Captain Crewe did not reply to Crystia's comments, but instead listened as Roland spoke his mind, and the woman questioned his capabilities as a leader. Roland, at the utterance of her words, turned his head gracefully, yet incredulously to look upon her. He gave her a look which reflected his opinion of the audacity she had to ask such a question, yet for the purpose of maintaining the bare minimum of pleasantries among the company, he tried to maintain his composure and speak with as little discourteousness as possible. Ignoring her jab at his complexion, Roland gave her a somewhat forced smile.
"I assure you, Ser Knight, that you will have more trouble hearing of battles that I have lost. My credentials are long and qualifying, though I am unsure of what information passes into your..." he paused, trying to look for the right word to describe her country of origin. "...trees." His voice was filled with the racism much common in Aerion, particularly among humans. "But if you have heard of the Grand Tournament of Ethora, then you will have heard of the three-time winner, Roland Grey. Which is who I am. I am also a member of the Lionguard, royal guard of the King of Ethora, may Andal forever watch over his soul, and of his rightful heir, Hector Reigncliff." The last bit he articulated full of pride and loyalty, championing his lord and whom he believed to be the rightful King of Ethora. "Are these merits to your liking, miss...?" He inquired to the elf, wondering what name to call her. Before he could get an answer, the Captain began ordering to the crew from afar, preparing to set sail.
"All accounted for then? Very well. All hands, raise anchor, lower the sails! We make for the port of Duānkǒu!"
Moments later, the ship departed from port, heading into the open sea of the Deep Blue. The Knights' journey was underway.