"Eighteenth Night of the Third Perigee, of the Sweep [Unintelligible] Ugh. Captain Surefin of the Darkened Depths? Terrible ship name by the way. This dullard comes to MY manor and spends three entire nights trying to impress me, win my pusher, establish 'diplomatic relations'. Brought his expensive wine and champagne from abroad, INSISTED I try it, 'cultural exchange between elevated minds' my chute. He hoped I would take to it, get drunk. Probably hoped to win his way to my private chambers. No such luck for the man, I'm afraid. The wine was good though. I decided to keep what he brought in my cellar. The man is swine. Every diatribe about his many naval accomplishments, how our fleets together would SURELY be complimentary, it all sent a shiver up my posture pole and made me went to have him gutted within my drawing room. But I played nice, as is my talent. Told him his ships were beautiful, larger than I had seen from any other hailing from his region, made a few implications about whether the sails matched the hull. Suckered him into a trade agreement that benefited me far more than it did him. I'll have to put up with the bastard for a while to keep up appearances, but eventually I'll drain his intelligence, what little there is, dry, and usurp his resources from under him. If I am lucky, I will not find need to invite him to my chambers to keep him upon my hook. The time will come where his use is spent, and then the man will be thrown to the wolves, far from both his and my port, and no one will know what he did to earn a blade in his neck, nor who specifically desired it so. Well. Perhaps the former will be less a mystery than the latter. Ha ha. Ruminating on that future gossip brings a desire for drink upon my tongue. I believe I will have wine." ~Journal entry, precise date Unknown