Author Topic: DEAD MAN'S TAVERN II  (Read 41707 times)

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Offline Captain Jack Wolfe

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« on: May 12, 2008, 07:16:06 PM »
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This entire work ©2008-2009 by the respective authors.  All Rights Reserved.
Dead Man's Tavern I ©2008 by the respective authors.  All Rights Reserved.

For those of you just joining the story, we humbly recommend you start here, with Dead Man's Tavern I, where Welsh Wench's crew joins up with that of Mad Jack Wolfe, her estranged husband.

The complete narrative of Dead Man's Tavern I, compiled by Welsh Wench, will be available for download from this location at a later date.

Picking up from where we left off...

Jack smiled as he poured himself more wine, then held his glass aloft in a salute.  “I have to hand it to you, Brother Timothy.  You don't shake easily.”

The monk gave a single small nod.  Had he heard a hint of respect in the pirate's voice?  “A by product of strong faith, Captain.”

“I suppose,” Jack replied.  He took a sip of wine, then continued.  “You all seem to have heard ramblings and rumours about our destination.”  Everyone at the table nodded and made affirmative noises.  Briggs just shook his head and slugged back his wine.  “Well, it's true.  We are bound for La Ville du Traitre, the former prison colony built by the mongrel French and now run by pirates, for pirates.  We'll lay in for necessary repairs, thanks to the popularity of your Mister Roberts here with certain well armed lunatics.  Will we lose time in our pursuit of the Hammer?  Of course we will.  But we'd lose considerably more if we were to lose a mast, which you all have intimate experience with, or should we manage to get a few more holes blown in us, which always seems to happen whenever your bonny captain sets a stilletoed heel on my deck...”

Honour cleared her throat loudly.  “Would you mind focusing, Jack?”

“You said the Hammer will stretch her lead,” Blackjack interjected.  “By how much, do you figure?”

“Two days, give or take,” Briggs answered.  “The shipwright owes a few favours.”

“Two days?  We'll never catch him!” Lil lamented.

“I wouldn't worry,” said Jack.  “Unless Muir has learned to handle the lines – good dog, but doubtful – it'll be nigh on impossible for Cade to make significant headway.  Besides,” he added, making sure to avoid Honour's gaze, “I have as much reason to chase down that perfidious cur as any of you.”

Elinor's brow furrowed with worry.  “This place you're taking us to sounds ghastly and dangerous!  Is there any place in particular we should stay away form to avoid trouble?”

“The entire island, for starters,” Duckie said, and gave Honour a wink.

“And any place Jack feels comfortable,” added Honour.

Jack gave her a sarcastic smirk, but his expression sobered quickly.  “Let me be clear about this.  Nobody goes ashore alone.  Stay within sight of the ship, and stay together.

Blackjack leaned back in his chair and chuckled.  “And I suppose the bogeyman is lurking round every corner.  Jack, you strike me as too cautious a man to risk your neck, much less your ship, at such a wicked place!  You've done a splendid job getting the womenfolk in a tizzy.  Fairy and hobgoblin stories aside, what's this port really like?”

“Land!  Land ho!  La Ville du Traitre, dead ahead!” came the cry from the deck watch.  Jack gave the former highwayman a knowing smile.  “Let's see just how honest I've been, Mr. Roberts.  Shall we all retire to the weather deck?  Josiah, have the watch hoist our flag and pennants, and pass word to the gun crew to have the appropriate salute ready.”

Briggs made his way to the Lobo's main deck with the rest of the group in tow.  As he went about passing along orders, Jack led the Knight Hammer's crew forward.  He made a grand sweeping gesture toward the sunset bathed island that lay before them.

“Behold.  Hell's forward outpost on earth.”

La Ville du Traitre was, to be generous, a filthy, pestilent dung hole masquerading as a port of call. Tortuga, Port Royal, Charlotte Amalie, and other famous dens of iniquity were garden spots in comparison. If one wanted to find the dumping ground for society's refuse, this was the place.

The island's most prominent feature was the massive prison fortress that seemed to grow right out of the top of its solitary central hill. A majority of the inhabitants of this forbidding place lived within the walls of the former prison, its cell blocks having long ago been refashioned into flats and hovels. The ramshackle town that sprang up between the ominous structure's gates and what was now a disjointed jumble of a dockyard offered anyone with money a variety of diversions devised to satisfy their whims, from subtle to gross. Snaking its way amongst the docks was a grand bazaar where nearly anything, or anyone, could be purchased for the right amount.  The little island's sole redeeming quality, a tiny crumbling chapel, long ago ransacked and now used a storehouse for powder and shot hidden well within the impenetrable walls, stood testament to the soullessness of this place.

Honour glared incredulously at Jack. "You didn't say it was going to be this horrid," she spat.

"What part of 'hell on earth' wasn't clear to you?", Jack asked.

"We're upwind of that cesspool, and it already reeks!"

"Maybe so, but remember; it's got shopping.  Has to count for something, yeah?"

Honour crossed her arms and stared at the island. "You'd better have one hell of a line of credit here, Jack," she grumbled.
« Last Edit: June 08, 2009, 07:27:55 AM by Mad Jack Wolfe »
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Offline Welsh Wench

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #1 on: May 12, 2008, 08:48:59 PM »
Wench continued to stare at the island and then gave a big sigh.
"I can imagine you know where every den of iniquity is on that God-forsaken rock, Jack."
He gave her a sly grin and whispered in her ear, "You can get anything you want at Alice's tavern."
"And I just bet you've had everything on the menu, too."
She turned to her crew. "It's late and I suggest that we all get a good night's sleep while we still can. Jack, I am guessing you are putting the anchors down and we shall be disembarking to this armpit of the world in the morning when we have a fighting chance?"
"You guess correctly."
"Then I shall say good night to you all."

Everyone left the Captain's mess to go their separate ways. Martin touched Wench's sleeve and said quietly, "Will you be alright, Wench?"
She nodded. "I've survived Captain Swazey and Undead Daemon, I'll survive this one."

She went to the quarters that were formerly Briggs' and were now hers. She closed the door and crossed the room to look out of the porthole.
'Jack, what have you done to us? Taking us to the soiree in Hell you've always talked about? I'm betting you are sitting on the Devil's right...'

She dropped her breeches and flung her shirt in the corner. Reaching for her chemise, she pulled it over her head and then turned the covers down, slipping between the sheets. Within moments, she was asleep.

Jack headed back to his quarters with Briggs close behind. Jack whirled around and said, "And where do you think you are going, Briggs?"
"Well, seeing as how the missus has commandeered my quarters, I'm bunking with ye. Remember?"
Jack glowered darkly. "Briggs, there is no way I am sharing my quarters--let alone my bed--with you. I suggest you bunk down with Davis until I can make Honour see reason."
"Reason? Honour? We talking about the same woman? The woman that threw ye out of yer own bed?"
"She didn't throw me out."
"Oi, right. Out of yer own cabin then."
"Look who's homeless, Briggs. Not me. You."
With that, he shut the door in Briggs' face.

The moonlight streamed through the porthole window, illuminating the sleeping form that had a sheet gliding over her.  He made his way over to the bed and gently brushed the tendrils that escaped her braid away from her cheeks. She stirred and her eyes opened. Opening her mouth to scream, he gently put a hand over her mouth.
"It's just me," he whispered.
He took his hand away from her mouth and she said in a hushed voice, "Jack, what are you doing here? If you think there is going to be a repeat of last night, you are sadly...and what do you have in your hand?"
"This? Only a bottle of the finest Madeira wine. It was from the same lot as the bottle we drank on that night on our way to Castara Bay. I thought it was only fitting I share it with you."
She sat up and pulled the sheet up to her chin.
"Jack, you always have an ulterior motive. You never do a kindness--well, rarely--unless there is something in it for Jack Wolfe."
He laughed softly and didn't answer. Pouring two wine glasses, he handed her one and said, "I just wanted to share a drink with you before we set on La Ville du Traitre."

She took a sip of it and closed her eyes as it traveled down her throat. "As good as ever."
Jack chuckled, "I seem to recall you said the same thing that night but it wasn't in regards to the wine."
"Keep it up, Jack, and you can add Briggs' cabin to one more place I have kicked you out of."
He looked at her and then said, "Damn it, Honour! Why do you have to be in Briggs' cabin with the moon shining down on you when you could be in OUR cabin lying in my arms?"
She looked down and said softly, "There is too much we have done to each other, Jack. Too many bridges burned."
He gently put his finger under her chin and raised her face to his. Their lips were within inches of each other.
"I say we build another one. Or find a rowboat. Or swim. But for tonight, let's find our way back to each other....."
He kissed her and then put his hand to her hair. With one gentle tug, her ribbon loosened and her braid came down as her hair flowed around her shoulders.

She felt her pulse quicken and her breath starting to catch.
"Jack..." she started to say.
He drew her close and kissed her. Her arms went around his neck and she pulled him back down as she leaned back against the pillow. His hand caressed her cheek and trailed down her neck as his finger ran slowly along the neckline of her chemise, gently tugging at the drawstring.
He looked deeply into her eyes and said in a gentle whisper, "And can ye serve under a captain such as me?"
She nodded, finding the words hard to say with the rising heat, "Aye. At least for tonight...."
Her chemise slipped off her shoulders and his hand slid under the sheet...

With a start she woke up.
There was no Madeira.
There was no Jack.
Only the gentle sound of the ship rocking as it moved with the currents and swayed with the anchors.
The moon shone down on her. And that was it.
She was alone.

Let the writing begin!
« Last Edit: May 12, 2008, 10:41:22 PM by Welsh Wench »
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Offline Blackjack Roberts

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #2 on: May 15, 2008, 10:18:45 PM »
Blackjack whistled lowly and feigned surprise at the sight of the island he had once taken refuge on to escape Malcolm and heal after the debacle in India. It wouldn’t do for Mad Jack, or for that matter anyone else aboard, to know that he had spent three months there before signing on for the near disastrous voyage to Singapore. The less the captain of the Lobo knew about him the better.

“I’ll give ye this, Captain.” He spoke lowly, making sure to keep his eyes wide with false surprise. “Of all the scum ridden ports I’ve seen what pirates make their own, this hell hole tops the list!”

Mad Jack swelled slightly with pride that he had succeeded in shocking Roberts. “Now you can see why I ordered that no one,” he made certain to look Blackjack in the eye for emphasis, “and I mean NO ONE, is to go ashore alone.”

Blackjack raised one hand in front of him. “No worries there, Mate.” He grinned. “I’ll not be settin’ foot there by me lonesome.”

Mad Jack scowled for a moment before returning his attention to his estranged wife, but whether it was from distrust of Robert’s word, or Duckie had informed him of Blackjack’s ploy of playing the ignorant pirate, Roberts couldn’t say for sure. All he did know was he intended to keep his word, after a fashion. All that remained was which member of the Knight Hammer crew he would take with him to see Old Pew.

Gaining the ingredients he needed to make the antidote for the zombie powder was no problem as none would suspect, save for perhaps Lil, or Gander. Lil he could trust, but Jack still had his doubts about Duckie. The physician was far too knowledgeable and his loyalty to Mad Jack made him too much of a risk to be trusted completely.

Drake Gander. Jenny’s uncle. Still Blackjack had to wonder if he secretly held him responsible for her death and was waiting for him to take his revenge on Sir Terrance before exacting his own on Blackjack. Roberts knew all too well the hollowness of words and how easily they could be twisted to gain a advantage. It had proven to be a hard lesson, but one that he had learned well.

When he had come to from Duckie’s shaking the Black Lotus had still held him in it’s grip and his mind barely registered the concerned man standing above him. He certainly did not recognize him as an ally.

“Jack! Jack! Are you alright?! I almost couldn’t wake you! Who’s Mi Lin?!”

“A….a girl I knew in Singapore.” Blackjack scowled still muddled. “And who are you?”

“You know damn well who I am, Jack!” Duckie frowned, checking Robert’s eyes. The pupils were so dilated that the were almost pure black with a slight ring of blue green color. He felt Jack’s pulse and noted the clammy coolness of the pirate’s skin. “What the hell have you been doing to yourself?!” He demanded.

Blackjack’s mind cleared as the last of the potent flower burned its self out of his system. “Not a bloody thing, Sawbones.” he chuckled. “Yer more nursemaid than anything else if ye ask me.”

Duckie scowled. He knew enough to realize Roberts had taken some form of opiate, but none he knew of caused such delirium. Almost bordering on hallucinogen. This was new to him, and quite possibly dangerous. He was also a bit perturbed that Roberts insisted on continuing his charade with him, even though they were alone and he knew better.

“Don’t lie to me, Roberts!” He replied icily. “I know full well the effects of a drug when I see them. You were also seen entering the galley when I strictly said for you to rest! Are you trying to kill yourself, Man?!”

Blackjack laughed. “Ye lot would’ve left me to starve down here if’n I hadn’t, Sawbones. I had a bit o’ laudanum in me sea bag, so I used me a bit ta get ta the galley and some grub. Perhaps a bit more’n was good fer me.”

Duckie sighed exasperatedly. It was obvious Blackjack was going to tell him as little as possible. For a few moments he wondered what the man had gone through to make him so mistrusting of others. Roberts exhibited all the marks of a man deeply betrayed at some point in his life.

“Very well.” The lobo’s doctor said at last. “I’ll let it go for now, but if you have need of medicine, I would advise you get it through me.”

“If’n it’ll ease yer mind, Sawbones.” Roberts grinned.

“It will. By the way, the captain requests your presence at dinner tonight in the Captain’s mess. If your strong enough.” Duckie added matter of factually.

“Any idea why?” Blackjack asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“We’re nearing La Ville du Traitre and he wants to brief you and a few others of the Knight Hammer crew.” Gander said. “Think you’ll be up to it?”

Slowly Roberts stood up from the bunk, but this time he didn’t sway, or seem dizzy in the least. “I think I’ll be able to manage.”

“Good.” Duckie smiled. “Till then you rest. Or by God I’ll have you tied to that bunk!”

Blackjack sat back down and mockingly saluted Duckie. “Aye, aye, Sawbones!”

Duckie rolled his eyes heavenward as he turned to leave.

Offline Martin Montgomery

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #3 on: May 18, 2008, 04:42:49 AM »
Martin stood next to his Captain ..... Bright? and nearly choked as she commented under her breath "Damn you Jack!! I'll bet that the bootshops here don't even carry any decent stilettos!!" She spun and stomped back towards the bowells of the ship,purposely gouging small circles into the otherwise pristine deck. The big man looked once more towards the forboding island that loomed just off the starboard bow and looking up he saw the "Lobo's" Skull and Crossed Bones flag flying high above the crow's nest. The symbol of pirates everywhere snapped and popped in the stiffening breeze,sounding to Martin like a volley of musket fire. Shaking his head and starting for the galley to catch some sleep and prepare himself for the landing party he whispered to himself "I wonder if we do find everything that we need and can afford the prices here,will we all return in the same shape we left in?"
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Offline Elinor Hakebourne

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #4 on: May 18, 2008, 08:14:18 PM »
Elinor's curiosity got the better of her, and after supper, she ventured to the main deck to take a glimpse of the island they had all but arrived at. Shivers seemed to creep up her arms and send goosebumps in their wake, causing her to think fleetingly of the warmer clothing she had in her room. There was no doubt about it: the place was foreboding, and somewhere in her head she knew it wasn't just because of the fact it was night at present. From what Captain Wolfe had said, she knew better than to think the shadows on that island would fade with the morning sun.

Deciding she'd had her fill of the sight of La Ville du Traitre, she turned away and headed for the Infirmary. There was no doubt Lil would want a good look at her wound before she went to sleep for the night.

Offline Blackjack Roberts

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #5 on: May 19, 2008, 07:33:53 PM »
Blackjack thought hard about the shore party. That he would sooner or later be recognized on that accursed island he had no doubt. Though his stomach churned at the thought of the depths he had sunk to, just to gain enough respect to semi survive and be accepted.

Still one was a fool to take one’s eyes off one’s back there for any reason. As long as none knew how well he knew the island he stood a better chance of slipping off with his chosen ally. Perhaps he should take Captain…..Bright was it now? As long as he went ashore completely armed they shouldn’t have any serious trouble. The again… would be sure to attract Mad Jack’s attention, and he didn’t want that.

Perhaps Lil? One hell of a dangerous lass to be certain. They certainly wouldn’t have to worry about their backs. Brother Timothy would also be a good choice….few seamen, no matter how depraved risked harming a holy man. Plus, Jack would bet his eye teeth there was more to that monk than met the eye.

Blackjack would have to tell Pew this time. The last piece to the puzzle, Old Salt. Tell me what I need to know, return my sea chest, and you will know at last. I promised you that. “Funny a blind man would see me enough to know I’d keep that promise.” Roberts thought.

Offline Hibernian

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #6 on: May 19, 2008, 10:10:59 PM »
‘In the darkness of the evening the eyes of my heart are awake to you.
I seek your graces of healing.
At the heart of the brokenness around me and in the hidden depths of my own soul.’

The monk paused in his prayers to listen to the ship’s bell, he had been leaning here against the starboard rail for some time, watching the night fall on the island that lay just a good cannon shot away. The Lobo lay anchored far enough away for an evening of safety but still close enough that one could hear the rise and fall of the crowd’s voices as the evening progressed. “I wonder if my prayers shouldn’t be for them rather than ourselves?”

“May I join you or is this rail reserved for members of the clergy?”
He knew the voice and without turning replied, “Ah good Kate, what fair wind blows you in my direction; for the hour is late and perhaps you should be abed?”
“Why Brother is that an offer?”
“If that is an offer, then it expired twenty years pass and unlike Lazarus will not rise from the grave. Consider it a friend watching over another knowing that tomorrow brings the unexpected.”
“It has been said a wise man follows his own advice. You are burning the candle late this evening.”
“Enough Kate, let me finish my prayers and I’ll extinguish the candle.”

“Fair enough good Brother, but tell me who do you pray for this evening?”
Kate stepped beside the monk and matched his leaning upon the railing. She turned to face him and for the first time noticed the lines around his eyes. His face told her this was more than a simple evening prayer, while he may not admit it to the crew, he was worried.

He gestured toward the island, “I pray for all the lost souls, that they may be found. I pray for our friends upon this very ship that tomorrow we do not add to the lost souls on that island.”
“Come now Brother, we know Captain Jack was laying it on thick, that island didn’t sound like anything the crew of the Knight Hammer can’t handle.”
“Keep telling yourself that Kate, and pray you don’t ever believe it. There is evil upon that island, I’m not saying it can’t be beaten but I’m concerned that perhaps the Captain didn’t lay it on thick enough.”

“Still we’ll watch for each other, make our repairs, may be have a drink or two and get out of port as soon as the repairs to the Lobo are completed. We don’t bother anyone and they won’t bother us, how hard can it be?”
“More experienced crews than ours have entered this port and barely made it out again.”
“You sound as if you speak from personal knowledge, perhaps there is more to you than a brown robe?”

The snort of a laugh escapes, “even monks were young once and not always monks. No, I have never visited the Isle of Traitors but I know members of my Order who have been here. We will find very few friends here.”

No more words were spoken, the monk and Kate just quietly watch the darkening night.

« Last Edit: May 20, 2008, 08:42:37 PM by Hibernian »
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Offline Captain Jack Wolfe

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #7 on: May 20, 2008, 09:12:41 PM »
Jack walked the quarterdeck, unable to sleep.  Partly because of La Ville du Traitre, and partly because of, well... Honour.  He fetched the rum bottle from the binnacle and took a long tug, then went to the rail and watched the shimmering lights of the island as he worked out in his mind how he would deal with Ahmet the Turk.

His concentration was broken by what sounded like multiple cannon reports from far overhead.  The strangest falling star he'd ever seen cut across the night sky, drawing a long trail of luminous green mist behind it.  It was followed by another, and yet another.  They seemed to follow an almost intelligent trajectory towards the most densely populated region of the Spanish Main.  He watched with curiosity as the trio of objects trekked silently through the heavens toward the southern horizon when, without warning, a crewman who also witnessed the spectacle cried out with all his might, "Uuuuuuullaaaaaahh!"

"Singhal!" yelled Jack, clearly startled by the man's wailing.  "What the hell are you squalling about?!"

"The green falling stars, Captain!" the Indian man explained.  "I have heard about them before, when I was in Jamaica!  Very bad omen.  Very wicked spirits that come down from the skies!"

"So, you what?  Decide to chat them up as they pop in for tea and biscuits?!"

"I was making the call I was told they use to talk to each other, in hopes they would think us kin and pass us by!"

"Well, knock it off!" Jack ordered.  "First a blue box that's there one moment and gone the next, now monsters from the sky.  Indeed.  A ridiculous story that wouldn't sell a penny dreadful," he muttered as he returned his attention to the flickering lights of the island.  "We've monsters enough of our own to worry with."
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Offline Martin Montgomery

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #8 on: May 21, 2008, 04:29:24 AM »
In his galley berth, sleeping only in his breeches  unable to drift off for more than a few fitfull minutes at a time,Martin swung his legs out of his oversized hammock and bent to put on his boots. Oddly enough the action made him think of his petite blonde Captain,not with the thoughts that entered most men's heads when they first met the winsome Wench,but with thoughts of how he could protect her from herself! "How can I go ashore on an island that was meant to be a prison but is now  populated by vile cutthroats, thieves, evildoers and Pirates! How can I find and purchase provisions for the "Lobo",keep from having them stolen or destroyed before they reach the ship,stay away from dangerous situations, keep my head attached to my neck and my soul inside my body and keep WW from bringing the entire island down around their ears!!  He spoke in a low voice to the ship's cat,Lil Puddin' as it crossed the floor to his feet,a delighted "Mmmmrowwww!" escaped his lips at the sight of the rotund cook,who had replaced the nasty,one legged man who had banished poor Puddin' from the galley and his sight! Puddin' tried to help the cook's mood,by rubbing itself ruffly on Martin's booted feet. Reaching down and stroking the silky coated animal Martin came to a decision. "The "Lobo" and the needs of her crew must come first! I must get the best possible deal on the massive amount of supplies needed and get them safely back to the ship,I can't be in two places at once and WW is a grown woman. Ask your Master "He snorted,and began to run his massive hand from the happy feline's head to it's tail. "Our little Captain Bright can cut a man worse with her tongue than she can with her sword! Captain Wolfe will have to assign one of  the others to be her guardian." The cat stretched it's body and began to purr loudly,voicing it's pleasure under the large man's ministrations. "But for now,all I can do is be ready for first light and the shore party! Standing and slipping his shirt over his head and setting his ever present beret atop the shaggy head ,Martin began to ready his kit. "I may not be a pirate,or been born to the seas but I have been a merchant for many years and I firmly believe that No One on this forsaken island can best me while I have my wits about me!" The words made him feel better but somehow he felt that the statement was mere bravado  knowing that he would have to be at his best,for the good of the Ship and her crew, he prayed that he was up to the task at hand!!   
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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #9 on: May 21, 2008, 12:35:18 PM »
"That's you done, Elinor. I cannot see where my help in the healing will do much more good. It's all up to you now."
Lil gently patted Elinor's good shoulder and smiled a hopefull smile.
Elinor concentrated and flexed her hand, slowly and with determination.
"See? Just keep that up and it will all work out right."
Her high spirits seem to be catching with Elinor, who smiled a tenative smile as she walked
back out of the surgery, still slowly flexing her hand open and close, open and close.
"Here's hoping you get it all back, sister of the water. That is a hard blow for anyone to take."
Lil whispered to her dissapearing shape.
Her mind wandered as she dithered in the surgery. She was not tired, nor hungry anymore.
She was excited, yet terrified of the land beyond their bow. She knew of that place.
She was sworn to never set foot on it.
'I wonder if an apoligy will work? Or, am I doomed?' she thought while swiping a cloth haphazardly along the countertop.
"You know, you could simply stay on board."
Gander. Always him.
"Do you ever introduce yourself? Or, will you forever wish to startle me into attacking you?"
Drake smiled a caustic smile.
"You couldn't harm me, even if you wanted too, so give up the threats. They are empty. Much, like our surgery. Thank God."
"OUR surgery?" Lil put the cloth down.
He nodded and a bit of sad humor played across his eyes.
"Aye, our, you proved yourself these past days. I am not an unfeeling man. I will share space with you for the art of healing. As long as you don't touch anything, or move it out of place."
Lil watched his face. There was something there, but, he wasn't saying it.
"And?" she encouraged.
Dr. Gander gave a confused smile.
"And what?"
"You tell me."
His poker face remained intact. Lil wasn't fooled. Before she let her temper go, she walked out.
"When you are ready to really have a conversation. Find me. Until then, good night."
Her words were called over her shoulder, she was to the ladder leading up, when one of the Lobo's sailor's stopped her.
"He be wantin' a word with ye."
Lil was puzzled, "Well, that narrowed it down. Which, 'he'?"
The sailor smiled a toothless grin.
"Them's the one that be called BlackJack."
Lil blinked.
"Tell him, I will see him in the morning. He needs his rest."
The sailor made a grab for her elbow and was on the deck in one swift movement.
"Nay, he be wantin' to see ye now missy."
Lil stood up and allowed the sailor to scramble to his feet. She smiled at him.
"next time, speak first, then grab. Better chance for you to keep your head for further use."
The Sailor smiled like a lunatic and wandered off.
'Wander what he wants?' Lil thought and walked in the opposit direction of the berthing.
'he can wait until morning. Must not be all that important, if he didn't come for me himself.'

Offline Blackjack Roberts

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #10 on: May 21, 2008, 07:28:26 PM »
“Thank ye, Mate.” Blackjack grinned, tossing the toothless scallywag a doubloon from Sparrow’s rapidly dwindling supply. “Should have played that last night in The Dead Man’s Tavern a little closer to the vest.” He thought to himself. “Not that it will matter once I have my sea chest back.”

“At th’ lease she knows I be want’n a parlay with her.” He said aloud.

“So what be so important ye be needin’ at see that Hellcat? If’s ye don’ mind me askin’.” The Lobo crewman asked.

Robert’s head threw itself backward with the force of his laughter. “Need ye ask, Man?!!” He asked in feigned disbelief. “Surely ye haven’t been at sea so long as ta not notice the lass be cute as a button!”

“And as dangerous as a coral snake! Ye be a man what tempts fate, Matey. Mark me well.” The grizzled salt replied, remembering the ease he had found himself on his backside. “But, aye. I sees yer point.”

After the pirate left Blackjack opened his sea bag and dumped the contents onto his cot. Quickly he searched the lining until he found the hidden pocket and retrieved the gift he needed for his first choice to help him. If not he still had others to make the attempt with, and the crew of the Knight Hammer would be a little better armed for a trip onto that hell hole.

Time to put the old skills to the test again. Although his wound had settled into an annoying headache now, he decided he was fit enough to make this little run without artificial aid. He made his way to his door and presses his ear to it. Then bending down he carefully felt the boards of the floor, searching for any tale tail vibration.

Satisfied the small hallway was as empty as it could be near the door, Jack cracked the door enough to see out. Slipping into the hallway he shut the door behind him , them laid a hair across the latch.

Lil walked to the bow of the anchored pirate ship and stared out at the island. The lights of the pirate’s den known as La Ville du Traitre gave a peaceful illusion when compared to the faint sounds that wafted across the sea. Shouts, cursing, and from time to time the occasional scream and pistol shot.

Unbidden thoughts of Tortuga came back to her. She had heard more than enough truth about that place to have sworn never to set foot there. Even as another part of her thrilled to the challenge of testing herself against the worse humanity had to offer. Some so vile that they dared not set foot off the island again.

“Not the best port to make repairs in is it, M’Lady?” the familiar voice came from low behind her.

“Between you and Gander, Roberts. I’m wondering which one of you is going to get pinned to a wall, or mast first!” She replied coolly.

“Sorry, Luv, but if I can pull this off without being seen, then so much the better.” Blackjack smiled sitting in front of a few kegs and tarp near the forward mast. Effectively hidden from the angle of the watch’s view.

“Pull what off, Jack?” Lil turned around, but kept her eyes trained on the watch, and Blackjack in her peripheral vision. Roberts grinned, the lass knew her stuff, he hoped she would agree.

“I’m afraid I am in need of a helping hand, Lil.” He spoke matter of factly. “From someone I can trust.”

Lil grinned inwardly. The newest member of the Knight Hammer’s crew had put his full trust in his crewmates. “And just what do you have in mind, Blackjack?”

“I need to gather some supplies that I’d rather the good doctor not quite know about, and I need someone to slip off with me to visit a old salt that may have a key to trapping Cade Jennings.” Roberts explained in the same tone. “I’ve brought you a present that will make it much safer for us as well.”

With the toe of his boot Blackjack nudged the small parcel to Lil’s feet. Lil pulled a dagger and ‘accidentally’ dropped it. Kneeling down she retrieved both from the deck. Turning back to the island she opened the brown wrapper to find a matching set of ringed bracers.

“What’s this?” She asked curious.

“Look inside them, Luv.” Jack answered from behind.

Lil opened the bracers, and her eyes grew wide. The moonlight glinted from six bits of metal secretly sheathed inside the bracers, three in each. She delicately drew one out to find a small throwing dagger made entirely of metal. Perfectly balanced and razor sharp with needle points. The craftsman ship was exquisite. She whistled lowly and replaced the deadly projectile.

“Nice, but what good are they strapped against your arm out of reach? Lil asked.

“Push upward on the center ring on the outside edge, Luv.” She heard Blackjack chuckle.

To her surprise the ring moved and the handles of the daggers now projected from the tops of the bracers. “Odds are none will ever suspect you have those six daggers with you, Lil.” Blackjack spoke seriously. “You now have a secret reserve of six daggers that none know about, so none can take from you.”

“And if I refuse to set foot on that accursed island?” Lil smiled with her back to Roberts as she strapped on her new bracers.

“The daggers are yours, regardless, Luv.” Roberts smiled. “A thank you for attempting to pin Dagget to the deck.”

“I would have had him, too, if the Pride hadn’t fired at the same moment!” Lil scowled.

“Of that I have no doubt, M’Lady.” She heard Jack say sincerely.

“All right, Blackjack. We have an accord.”

“Agreed, Lass.” Roberts replied. “Once we are ashore, make an excuse to go to the herbalist, and ask me along. Once we have what we need there, we’ll go see Old Pew, and I’ll explain the rest then.”

“One more thing, Blackj…” Lil’s words trailed off as she turned around to find the spot Blackjack had been sitting in vacant and the man no where to be seen. “Damn,” she whispered to herself, “and I thought Duckie was sneaky!”
« Last Edit: May 21, 2008, 07:51:03 PM by Blackjack Roberts »

Offline Martin Montgomery

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #11 on: May 29, 2008, 05:07:20 AM »
"You are far to young to be talking to yourself young lady!" The long shadow cast by the mainmast released the ship's cook who,for such a large man,moved rather stealthily Lil admitted to herself. "Martin!" She hissed even as she spun and brought her dagger up to his throat! "The next man that feels he can sneak up on me shall pay a steep price!!" "Little One,I meant you no harm!" The look on his face was outwardly calm but his expressive eyes showed the pain of betrayal and the woman felt a deep pang of regret as she quickly reversed the blades direction and sheathed it without looking. "My apologies Martin!" She stepped forward and hugged the rotund man's expansive waist,feeling his arms encircle her for a second then release as she stepped away.Motioning towards the nearby island with an offhand wave she stated "I guess that this mess has gotten to me." Looking at the island himself, Martin plainly heard several small caliber shots drift across the open water,then a deeper roar that he associated with a swivel gun which was followed by an eerie silence broken only by the waves gently slapping the "Lobo's" hull. Lilaney's breathing seemed loud and he realized that he had held his own breath,straining to hear something else from " La Ville du Traitre",something that didn't evoke a feeling of dread. He turned back to her as she laid a gentle hand on his arm "Martin, I need you to help me do a few errends when we go ashore tomorrow." She knew that Blackjack Roberts had trust issues,but Lil thought that the kind hearted cook was as trustworthy as any aboard the "Lobo" except for Brother Timothy. "Anything that I can do,Little One!" The big man said immediately "You have but to ask." With a wide smile he said "Though,it may be easier over a cup of hot chocolate!"  Lil grinned and added "And some of those brownies that I smelled you baking this afternoon?" With a conspiracle look the two friends went below to the galley,to talk and await the morning.       
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Offline Hibernian

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #12 on: May 29, 2008, 09:53:00 PM »
The quiet night echoed with the sound of the ship’s bell. Two chimes followed after a short pause by a third. The morning brought activity to the Lobo’s deck as the new watch moved topside. Their eyes still half closed with sleep or hangover the crew shuffled about the ship performing their duties without thought or comment. Even the sight of Brother Timothy and Kate sitting together on deck, in the dark, apparently all night, drew little in the way of comments.

It had been a good night with a slight breeze keeping the main deck cool with a slight hardly noticeable rocking of the ship from the waves and currents. Last night’s view of the cities nightlife was now replace with the rays of the rising sun bracketing the port city. Kate stretch out her arms, stifling a large yawn “I wish our entry into port could be as quiet as last night, but I imagine that’s just wishful thinking on my part.”

“If wishes were horses beggars would be riders Kate. I’m afraid that you are correct. Any ship coming into a port such as this is always a noticeable affair. The mere fact that our dear beloved Captain Wench is involved, heck just her being on board the Lobo changes those wishes into sure thing.”

“I’m not sure how or when, but I suspect we will make a grand entrance, probably when we least expect it. Ah, speaking of grand entrances the sun has arrived.” Kate leaned back against the mast resting her eyes for just a bit more, Brother Timothy on the other hand stood and went to the rail for a better view as the rays of the rising sun illuminated the port.

Suddenly, a sharp piercing beam of light blinded Brother Timothy, his arm raised above to shield his eyes, he took a good look about. “Kate, do you see the light?”
“Sorry, Brother, while I respect you and all I’m not really ready to join up yet.”

“No Kate, not the light as in a vision but the beam of light reflecting from the port.”
“Can you tell what it’s hitting, where its coming from?” Kate joined the monk at the railing looking toward the isle and trying to pin point what was reflecting the sun toward the ship.

“It appears to be, amazing enough, a church steeple.”
“A church in a pirate haven?”

“Keep in mind that this was originally a outpost of his most Catholic majesty the King of France, so a church would not be unusual. In fact, I seem to recall a story of a parish right here though I have to admit I thought It would be long gone by now.”
“What kind of story, anything of interest or profit to us?”
“I suspect anything of profit has long since disappeared into the midst of the current populace, but I do remember the name of the parish was a bit of a joke.”

“How does a church make a joke on a prison island?”
“Well, I remember the patron saint for the parish was St. Dimas.”
“Brother, keep in mind many of us normal people, who did not benefit from a Latin education, how about saying that again in the vernacular.”

“Oh yes, while most people know of St Dimas, very few actually know that they know him."
"Brother your slipping out there again, focus."

"What better irony than to name the church on a prison island after one of the thieves from Calvary. You see St. Dimas was the good thief, so to speak, who was crucified with the Christ.”
“This is your church’s attempt at humor, what I said earlier about not joining up is doubled.”

“Remember Kate, to err is human and forgive divine. But the fact that this church might still be standing is incredible. I really have to see it and see what left. Perhaps my Order could start a mission here. Kate once we dock do you feel like a walk, go see the joke up close and personal?”

“Oh Brother…”
« Last Edit: June 01, 2008, 07:15:18 AM by Hibernian »
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Offline Captain Jack Wolfe

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #13 on: May 31, 2008, 01:08:50 AM »
Oh, god, why did I let you in? We shouldn't be doing this, Jack,” Honour said breathlessly.

“Of course we should,” he said, and kissed her once again. “I'm a captain, you're a captain, and we're still married...”

She kissed his neck in a way that had never failed to make his blood burn, her jasmine perfume intoxicating him nearly as much as her touch.  “Don't spoil it, she whispered. They kissed again with a smouldering sensuality that verged upon bursting into flame. Their hands played over each other's bodies as the former lovers reacquainted themselves, every taste, scent, and sensation driving their pent up desire for one another ever higher. He loosened her chemise and slowly drew it down over her creamy shoulders, their eyes locked and ablaze.


“What was that?” Honour asked.

“My heart,” Jack answered, and hungrily kissed her waiting lips again. All thoughts of the strange noise faded from her consciousness as she was swept away by his embrace.


The sound was even louder this time. “I think your heart just ran into the hull,” she said.

“I've said before how you effect me like no other woman, my love.” He drew her close once again...


“Shhhh,” Jack said as he gently placed a finger across Honour's lips. "Josiah will take care of it, whatever it is."  She smiled temptingly at him, and he moved his finger away to kiss her.

“I know what it is,” she said playfully as she pressed her body seductively against his.  His heart raced at the warmth of her breath against his chest.

“Tell me later,” purred Jack.

“The pilot be here t' guide us in t' that stinkin' hell hole of a harbour, Jack! Wake up!” said Honour, but the voice belonged to Briggs.

Jack cried out and sat bolt upright with a look of horror on his face. He looked around frantically and discovered that it was morning, and he'd fallen asleep on deck. “Master Briggs!” he snapped. “What have I told you about sneaking up on me when I'm sleeping?!”

“Well, I hated t' bother ye whilst you were smilin' and mutterin' to yerself, but th' pilot's boat is along side. What were ye dreamin' about, anyways?” asked Briggs.

“Erm... puppies.”

“Must've been some really special puppies.”

“You have no idea.”

“Shall we go an' welcome the pilot aboard, then?” Briggs asked.

“I'd really rather not stand at the moment, if you don't mind.  Bring him aboard and I'll see him here,” said Jack.

The quartermaster shrugged. “Aye, all right, then.  I'll have him here shortly.”

“Take your time! No rush, none at all. Has anyone seen my pipe?”

Briggs walked down the steps to the main deck, shaking his head.  “Puppies, me Aunt Fannie's arse!  This be that Obeah woman's doin', I'd wager anythin' on it,” he groused.  “Those two keep dancin' round one another like moths round a candle.  No sooner do they get burned, they're havin' another go.”  He reached the deck as the rope ladder was being lowered over the side.  “Lively lads!  Have the man aboard.  We don't want to stay on this accursed spit o' land a day longer than we have to.”

The pilot struggled his way up the side of the ship.  He was a squat, red-headed man, built more like a tree stump than a anything else.  His scraggly beard did little to hide the numerous scars on his face, ringing an enormous jaw that jutted out to give him the appearance of a buldog.

“Welcome aboard El Lobo, mister?” Briggs entreated.

“Whiskey!” the man said abruptly.

“Mr. Whiskey?  There's a right odd name...”

“Nay, ye daft beggar!  Toss yer formalities and gimme a drink!  Otherwise we ain't getting' near that god forsaken maze,” the pilot demanded.

“Aye, ye'll be getting' yer drink soon enough, but I'll be havin' a name before I take ye to the captain to discuss payement.”

The little man squared his shoulders and looked Briggs squarely in the eye.  “Name's Kreatcher!  The best pilot in all these waters for the money.”

“Kreatcher, is it?  And they say there's no irony left in the world.  So, Mister Kreatcher, just how long have ye been the best?” asked Briggs.

“Two days.  No, three.  Tragic accident led to me current status, sorry t' say,” said the toadstool of a man.  “A tender carryin' our 7 best pilots was taken in a storm.  Sad.  But I don't mind getting' t' raise me price, there's a bit o' truth!”

“Our lucky day,” Briggs said sarcastically.  “Cap'n's this way.”

“Oi!  Were be my whiskey?”

“You'll get it once ye talk with Cap'n Wolfe, not before.”

Kreatcher stopped cold.  “Not Jack Wolfe, is it?”

“Aye, he be owner and master.  Why?”

“That means good whiskey,” the pilot said greedily.  “But I'll be asking payment up front!”

The two men reached the quarterdeck to find Jack gazing wistfully into the distance, the smoke from his pipe carrying the scent of tobacco, chocolate, congac, and cherries wafting through the air in wispy tendrils.  As they approached, they could hear him softly singing.

O bide, lady, bide.
Your lust for me, don't hide.
This tarry lad will be your love,
So lay aside your pride.

Briggs cleared his throat loudly, jarring Jack from his reverie.  "Cap'n Wolfe!  This here's the harbour pilot, Mister Kreatcher."  The odd little man shambled forward with an almost defiant air.  Jack started to extend his hand in welcome, then reconsidered.

"Quite the eponymous name, sir," said Jack.

"Heard that said a time or two before, but I don't know a thing 'bout horses.  Don't know where they get th' idea," Kreatcher complained.  "Now, where's me whiskey?  And me money, Cap'n Wolfe.  I've heard a thing 'r two about ye, I have."

"Not surprising you'd have friends in low places.  Master Briggs, see to it he's accommodated.  The sooner we're quit of this place, the better.  The helm is yours, Mister Kreatcher.  Mind what's left of the paint job."

The trollish little man received his money and drink, and an hour later El Lobo del Mar was moving on a drunken serpentine course through the hazards of La Ville du Traitre's wreck strewn harbour.  Jack kept an eye on how his ship was being handled, but his mind was awash in worry.  There was so little he knew about Honour's crew.  He silently cursed the circumstances that had delivered them to this awful place.  Would they be all right?  Could he keep them all safe?  And would he lose Honour for good this time if he couldn't?
« Last Edit: June 03, 2008, 08:13:35 AM by Mad Jack Wolfe »
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Offline Martin Montgomery

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #14 on: June 02, 2008, 01:01:17 PM »
Lilaney and Martin had each finished two cups of his good chocolate,that which he had reserved for WW's cultured tastes,and half a pan of soft,moist brownies when the call went up from the deck "Pilot tender coming alongside!" They had just began to talk about the manner of the errends she would need him to accomplish while they were on "La Ville du Traitre" when the loud Thump-Thump of the harbor pilots boat sounded several times running down the "Lobo's wooden sides. "Methinks that this man went to the same school of "boat driving" as our lovely blonde Captain!" Martin said to Lil as she scampered out of the galley towards the berth that she and Elinor shared. "It would seem so!" She called back over her shoulder "But at least she PASSED!" A final rasping scrape alongside and the cook heard the deckhands call greetings to the crew of the tender. I guess that it would be best to keep our "Hosts" happy." He thought as he picked up the tray holding a coffee pot and several cups,then shook his head and added two bottles of good Irish whiskey from one of "Lucky's" stashes he had found when scrubbing out the galley. "This should help lubricate the gears a bit this morning!" He headed up to the main deck looking for Captain Wolfe or Briggs and was slammed into by a short foul looking little fellow who had been scuttling along as if the Lobo were under way in rough seas instead of lying safe, gently anchored on the lee of an island. Holding the tray high the rotund cook had been caught in his midriff by the strangers protruding jawline that appeared to have suffered as many bumps and scrapes as the small forlorn gig made fast to the Lobo's side. "Make way! You overgrown son of a.." The squat man backed up three steps and stopped when he came up against Mr Briggs. Closing one bloodshot eye and squinting up at Martin,who was still trying to catch his breath,he murmured to Briggs over his shoulder "Is that a man or have you taken to shippin' out with shaved gorillas?"  Briggs stiffled a laugh and said "Mister Kreatcher,may I present to you our cook,Mr Montgome......" Kreatcher spotted the two bottles on Martin's tray and interupted Briggs "Ahhhhh! My Whiskey!!" Taking a bottle from the tray he tore out the cork with his teeth,spit it over the side and took a very,very long pull. "Ahhhh! Good stuff!" He said when he came up for air. "Now,where's Jack Wolfe?! I want to be paid and ashore before the Traitor's Rest fills up!!" As he said this he quickly took the second bottle from the tray and secreted it in an inner pocket of his worn coat. Martin followed the two men to where Captain Wolfe waited and served him and Briggs coffee,then took a position behind the pilot and to his left because the wind was blowing his unwashed stench to the right.
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