The Captain Disembarks

William Kelly stepped out of the ship, brushing his dirty black hair out of his face and straightening his dark velvet waistcoat as he stepped onto the cobblestones of the docks. With a flick of his hand, his crew began to unload the cargo, lowering it to the ground with cranes to be sent to market.

It seemed like years since the Irishman had set foot in the jewel of the British Empire. The Captain watched the crates of imported goods and loot move off into the capitol. Privateering had become a very profitable trade since the French Empire had reformed and went to war with Europe.

William turned away from the industry, stepping out into the narrow streets. London bustled around him, gentlemen in top hats strode by, discussing the latest news of the Empire. Passing them, fine ladies of good breed and stock chattered about the gossip of the day, cinched into tight corsets and hidden under heavy layers of fabric. William's eye caught on a brunette's rump, covered by a fashionable bustle. The Irishman smirked as a few distant memories of a certain Baroness lept to his mind. William had always despised the upper classes for their uptight and condescending nature even though when all the layers of finery were stripped away, they were as base and immoral as the rest of society.

William shook off his musings, cutting across the cobbled street to an alley squeezed between two unfavorable houses. He quickly surveyed his surroundings before striding into the darkness of the underbelly of London.