<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"I've got a map outlined with the route stashed down below.  I want you to go over it with a fine-toothed comb and find us the best route, whether it be Dogleg, horse leg or peg leg.  I trust your judgement!  Get together with Mr. Arensfolk and make it happen."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>The Castilian looked a bit puzzled, but nodded. Well, more of a bow, really, as if having long since decided to treat La Capitana as if she were a lady of status. Which was, from more than one point of view, entirely true. Then, turning to regard the helmsman, he gestured in the direction of the Captain's cabin.<br/><br/><strong>"We may as well be about it, at least until the pilot turns us loose at the harbor's mouth and we are truly underway."</strong>Shaking his head as he walked, he muttered something about pesky weather witches and how it messed up his calculations, but if there was any heat to them it was hard to tell.<br/><br/>Reaching the relative privacy of the Captain's Cabin, the slender scholar lingered at the door as if genuinely reluctant to ender without the occupant present. Having the Helmsman present tipped the balance quickly enough and he zeroed in on the map she'd mentioned, taking up a pair of dividers and a protractor.  Tools in hand he studied the map, his frown growing less puzzled and more annoyed by the moment.<br/><br/><strong>"Here, what do you see in all this? You are a nautical man. Perhaps you will see something that I mistake for something else."</strong><br/><br/>He spun the chart so that Ragnar could get a better look at it and paused to let that worthy have his own look.