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You want to know about my raider "friends," huh? What in the world would make a goody-goody like you poke your nose in such a dirty business?
Well, there's good "Ser" Tadeus, of course. Some people say he runs the Armada. He doesn't. No one does. The Armada is a collection of ships, and each one is like a nation unto itself—its own rules, its own people, its own leader. Tadeus is respected, of course. You don't sink a half dozen Orlesian frigates without earning at least some respect. He's a dangerous man, but he's no king of the Armada. Anyone tells you that, they're lying, or misinformed.
Then there's Lachlan Poole. Likes to sail around the southern cape of Rivain, rattling his saber and posturing like it means something. No one really cares what Lachlan Poole does, though only a fool will say that to his face. You see, the thing about Lachlan Poole is he's got gold. Lots of it. All earned through legitimate means, even. He still has a trading company somewhere in the Marches, and hires people to run it while he plays adventurer on the high seas. The Armada lets him do it because it always pays to have friends with coin.
The one you should really watch out for is Ianto. They call him the "Talon," the "Terror of Llomerryn," but most often, "That Crooked Bastard What Might Kill You in Your Sleep." Slavery, murder, torture... nothing is too much for Ianto. He'd traffic in souls, if he discovered a way to extract them from people. In fact, I'm sure he has some Tevinter cronies working on that right this second. I'm sure there's coin to be made in stolen souls somewhere. The Imperium, probably.
—Isabela, self-proclaimed "Queen of the Eastern Seas"