my man

Sir Judge informed me we may (are supposed to) bring a servant or butler to the dinner party and i don't have one, so i shall bring the closest thing: my shaman, grover francis mitchum. hopefully by the time we make landfall his name will have changed to a more servant-like cognomen. i personally prefer something short and sweet like 'snube' or 'croutons'.
Sir Judge somehow does have a servant, even though such things are forbidden on my ship. i informed him of this after he informed me of that, and i told him he would have to be charged with this infraction just like any other member of the crew would be if they were to infract, as my ship always has been and always will be a true democracy where all men are equal before the eyes of MY law and are equally invested in the business of whaling and high-seas adventure with light swashbuckling, and no man, regardless of title is above my decretum. so we had the trial and he was found not guilty by himself. this means he will retain his servant, sod, which is a relief to me, because i would've been terribly embarassed had i shown up to the dinner with my servant-disguised shaman and just the beaten and bloodied, barely breathing body of my hardly-conscious shipsjudge who is the only one who knows the host (or any of the guests for that matter).
the trip continues unabated!