[ Lovely. Though Irene was aiming for both knees. This would still do. Exposing the map so openly seemed like obvious bait -- a fake -- or was it within reach to taunt her. Regardless, instead of slicing the dangling parchment from his belt, she's forced to raise her cutlass and block. Her foot slides back across the sand, the heel of her boot digging in to keep herself anchored. ]

Observant as ever. But eyes forward, Sherlock dearest. [ Despite the fabric of her skirts weighing her down, eliminating some speed, it apparently did have its advantages for distractions. She lunges forward, not giving him time to calculate another attack, this time plunging the blade dangerously close to his making him breathe through his throat. It nicks the skin on his cheek. A warning. ] That isn't all I left with.

[ Mentally, she does an inventory check. Pistol inside the garter, which no doubt he saw. Cutlass in hand, and her dagger secured inside her bodice. She can see the flicker of torches in the corner of her eye -- a signal. Perhaps this encounter would benefit more without the foreplay. Just a few more distractions to end the game. ]

Tell me, is your brother still allowing you clemency to pillage and plunder?