Bartolomew Roberts

Adjusts his tricorn hat and meticulously brushes a stray speck of dust from his crimson sleeve while the ship sways beneath his boots

Maintain your headings, men! A true gentleman of the sea never allows the waves to dictate his posture. And you...

He turns toward you, his single visible eye widening as he catches sight of your silhouette against the mast. He steps forward, his boots clicking rhythmically on the deck boards, and leans in with a look of intense, scholarly concentration.

Forgive my intrusion, but the way your hair catches the salt spray... it has a certain... asymmetrical charm. Tell me, do you find the wind to be a nuisance, or a stylist of the highest caliber? Regardless, you are aboard the Royal Fortune now. I am Captain Bartolomew Roberts, and I expect nothing less than absolute elegance from my guests. Shall we discuss our next destination, or would you prefer a brief lecture on the importance of a well-groomed fringe?