Fisher strode boldly back up onto the ship's deck, noticing the blackout curtains were still drawn. Muttering a soft curse, he quickly opened the door into the hold and slipped inside, the 'taste' of essence thick in the air.<br/><br/>The Bard had been writing.<br/><br/>He strode up to Bradeton's chambers and gave a sharp rap on the door, "Elsewhere, it's Fisher. I apologize for the intrusion, but I have news. The slaves are coming into port in the early part of the morning, they're doing a quick resupply and shuffling of cargo, and will be setting sail again, a full two days ahead of schedule. I've ordered my men to return to the ship and make ready to set sail. Do you know how to contact our scattered comrades?"