Inside the Witch's lair

[Charlotte E. Yeager]

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The Witch of Endor remained on watch in the BMM gold field, stationed near Graves and undergoing field repairs, recovering from the damage it took in the recent skirmishes with the Mollys and the Coalition; the disgruntled deviants got their beating and have finally withdrawn to lick their wounds. Whenever they decide to show their despicable faces out of their holes again - the same dramatic fate awaits them, and their ships will be addedd to the abudance of space junk that have recently been a frequent sight in Bretonian space - the massive Debris field that's left from the battle of New London is yet to be cleared, and it is unclear for how long will it be staining the view of Bretonia's capital world.
All in all - Dunkirk have seen little action in the recent hours with the exception of occassional minor Molly raids looking for great fortunes they assume to lie in the bays of departing convoys; what they've been finding was an awaiting departure to the prison cell and, in the worst case scenario - their death warrant.

In the morning, Charlotte took her time to prepare for the guests' visit, tending to her uniform to have that exemplary view that's expected from the Royal Navy officer. Although the meeting was likely going to be informal. Now, the women have been merely expecting her guest to arrive. Nelson's ear twitched slightly, reacting to the voices outside her quarters. Soon as they fell silent and a familiar voice asked to let him in, Charlotte stood up and, walking over to the entrance, opened the oldschool wooden door that apparently matched the interiors of the room. She exhaled, visibly irritated with something, standing to the side cross-handed.
"You sure took your sweet time. Come in."

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