Chapter Text
18th June, 1765
(Soon to be) No King’s Port
My Dear Friend Technoblade,
Fighting tonight was tough. Four dead, nine wounded. We have all been pushed back to various hideouts - most of us in the Tavern. Redcoats all around, though I do not know if they will try smoking us out or firing in the windows once morning comes. I think for now they are resting, but one can never be sure.
Now would be a lovely time for some Naval Reinforcements, if you’ve got the time. I think one last press and we should have them. My men are raring to go, only, Outnumbered. Additionally, there is a pretty Sailor from the Ivory Coast that I would like to take to dinner when the city is not a Warzone, so the faster we can remedy that, the better.
I shall send you this letter by way of our new Friend the Crow-Man from Las Nevadas, the one with the striped hat. I believe his name is Philza. He will certainly laugh at what I have written, but he is the only one who can leave through the Chimney.
I have the Honour to be Yours Truly, in anticipation of our imminent Victory over the Lobsterbacks,
A. Eret
