Author Topic: DEAD MAN'S TAVERN II  (Read 41677 times)

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Offline Captain Jack Wolfe

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #30 on: June 16, 2008, 08:23:06 PM »
The entire place was decorated in what could only be described as opium den chic.  Stale smoke hung in the air of the main room, mingling with the soot of a few feeble oil lamps.  The light they cast revealed a multitude of overstuffed pillows scattered and piled all around the space.  A few barely animate men lounged on the stacked cushions, expending no more energy than was necessary to draw the smoke from and enormous hookah pipe into their lungs.  Sitting in the middle of it all, tucking in to what should have been a feast for ten men, was Ahmet the Turk.

"Jack!!  Jack Wolfe, you scoundrel!  Come in, come in!  I was just having a bite to eat!  Care to join me, my friend?" the huge man roared with a jolliness that belied just how ruthless and unforgiving he could be.  Jack's stomach rolled unpleasantly as half-chewed roasted chicken and who knows what fell from Ahmet's mouth as he spoke.

"No thanks, mate.  I've already got plans to smear meself with food in an hour or so.  It'd be a shame to spoil it."

Ahmet laughed loudly.  "How I've missed your sense of humour, Jack.  It was a pleasant surprise to hear your fine ship was in the harbour.  I'm sure you won't mind that I've arranged for repairs to start immediately.  They tell me she should be ready to sail in two days, perhaps sooner."

The news didn't sit well with Jack, but he didn't have much of a choice in the matter.  One didn't refuse the hospitality of Ahmet the Turk and retain one's health.  "Much obliged, really.  Wholly unnecessary..." Ahmet's smile began to fade.  "... but greatly appreciated, to be sure.  But I didn't come here to discuss the repairs of my ship."

"Of course you didn't!  Jack Wolfe never walks through my door unless there's a bit of business to discuss.  What is it you would like to talk about, friend Jack?"

Jack tried to relax a little.  As long as Ahmet was still calling him 'friend', things were good.  "Remember that small matter of a bounty I put out on my wayward wife?"

"As, yes!" Ahmet said brightly.  "'Honour', isn't it?  'Honour Bright'?  Lovely blonde little thing, very fond of boots?"

"That's the one!  I'm pleased to tell you said bounty is no longer required."

"Really?  Then someone has dispatched her?"

"Yes!" Jack lied quickly.  It was the kind of opening he'd been hoping for.  "I did."

Ahmet's eyes went wide.  "Jack!  I never realized you could be such a cold man.  I am impressed!"

"Finally caught up to her in Glenlivet, a couple day's sail away.  She never saw me coming."  At least that part was true.

"Interesting," Ahmet said around a mouthful of food.  "Very interesting."

"Didn't think you had it in me, eh?  She had it coming."

"Oh, that I don't doubt, Jack.  Breaking your heart the way she did, no one can blame you.  But one thing continues to puzzle me, friend Jack..."

"Really?  Seems pretty straight forward to me.  I offed the adulterous Welsh wench, so the bounty can be dropped.  That puts me in line for a bit of a refund, I should think."

"It would," said Ahmet, "if my men hadn't seen her walking about in the bazaar  today, very much alive.  I don't appreciate being lied to, Jack.  I don't appreciate it at all."

Jack swallowed hard.  "Ahmet. Mate!  I can explain everything..."

Ahmet picked up a large carving knife and regarded its edge in the lamplight.  "I suggest you start."
« Last Edit: June 22, 2008, 06:49:31 PM by Mad Jack Wolfe »
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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #31 on: June 19, 2008, 04:35:45 PM »
'How come the baddest ones always have the most difficult hideouts?'
Lil thought bitterly as she stepped gingerly around a questionable body.
It could be dead; it could be sleeping; it could be a trap.
"Next time we hunt down an old friend of yours, make sure they live closer to the fringe of 'high' society, okay? At least we can get at'em easier, and with less 'colorful' scenery along the way."
Jack gave a slight smirk of laughter as he followed behind in her wake.
He sidestepped the body as well, as an afterthought, he gave it a nudge.
It snorted and rolled over to its side, curling up into the fetal position and, sticking its thumb into its mouth, contently began to sigh in its sleep.
"Deal, luv; and when that happens, you'll be the one going shopping, and I'll have your Captain gaurding my back."
The alley they had proceeded down had opened up ever so slightly; the hangings from overhead windows flapped in the sea breeze occasionally allowing some sunlight to penetrate to the ground below.
Lil inwardly smirked at his remark, her eyes darting from doors and windows.
A shiver crawled up and down her spine.
There was positively no movement in this corridor; and that was the worst sign of it being a trap that her instincts screamed at her.
She had a feeling that Jack knew this too, for he seem to be inching closer and closer behind her.
"trap?" he audibly breathed near her ear.
She nodded almost imperceptibly.
'Trap' she thought.
Jack then stepped in front of her and began to take lead as the alley opened up into what looked like a Turkish Bizarre that had crashed into a Chinese marketplace and it was all being held in what looked like an impenitrable cul-de-sac.
The noise, smell and overall brightness of the scene caught her somewhat offgaurd after all the silence.
"impossible" Lil looked around at the madness, there were people, all sorts everywhere. How they were coming and going was a mystery to her. Shops and stalls butted up against a wall that was round and seemingly endless, the alley seemed to be the only entrance.
"No, luv; not impossible. But, very, very dangerous."
Jack's voice held something of a feral tone in it.
"Well, let us be off and find this 'Pew' of yours. Seems he's part of the prettiest mousetrap I have ever had the misfortune of finding myself walking willingly into."
Jack hooked his arm into hers as they walked side-by-side towards what he knew to be end of one game and the begining of something even more sinister.

« Last Edit: June 19, 2008, 04:38:19 PM by lilaney »

Offline Elinor Hakebourne

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #32 on: June 19, 2008, 08:43:46 PM »
Elinor ran out of the room as hastily as her feet could take her. Peering back into the room to take a glimpse at the chest, she studied it carefully, intent upon noticing any further movement should it occur. It didn't.

Nevertheless, she decided it would be a good idea to leave the chest--and room, for the matter--alone for a time. Her heart thumping fast, she made her way onto the main deck. Most of the crew having left the ship to "stretch their legs" ashore, she found the El Lobo rather empty. This fed into her uneasiness from the chest having moved underneath her, and she found herself glancing toward the island. A choice presented itself: stay on the ship, where she knew her surroundings, but had no allies about her, or, venture out to the island, and find comfort in her fellow crew members.

When an odd rumble sounded from where she had just come, her feet decided for her, making her run off the ship and onto La Ville du Traitre. She couldn't help but cross herself before she got onshore. Must find my friends, she thought. I'll feel better when I've seen Lil and Martin, even Duckie would be a welcome sight by now...

Offline Captain Jack Wolfe

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #33 on: June 20, 2008, 11:31:31 AM »
Jack's nervous smile evaporated as two of the inanimate lumps rose and moved to flank Ahmet, each one brandishing evil looking long knives.  Their master glared at the trapped pirate.  “I’m waiting,” he rumbled.

“All right, so you caught me.  Good onya,” said Jack, trying to fake a casual air.  “Yes, the missus is still alive and kicking, and to be honest, I’ve rather taken a shine to her being that way.  So what I really need from you, old friend, is to cancel the bounty and recall your talented blokes.  Forget returning my money, and we call it square.”

Ahmet smiled beneficently.  “Ah, see?  The truth is not such a terrible thing to ask for, nor a hard thing to tell.  You’ll find I am a sentimental man, friend Jack.  I’m happy that you are reunited with your sweet bride.”

“So, that’s it, then?  We’re square?  Ahmet!  You’re a diamond, that’s what you are…”


Jack stopped short.  “No?  But you just said…”

“I said I am sentimental.  But I am a businessman, and I see no incentive to give you what you want for such a paltry fee!  Surely your wife is worth more to you alive than dead, is she not?

“Let me think on that one,” Jack said, eliciting a chuckle from the henchmen.  “Fine.  How much more are we talking?”

“I would think that double would be equitable, don’t you?”

“Double?!  £500?” Jack sputtered.

“You disappoint me, friend Jack!  Putting a price on love is so callous,” admonished Ahmet.  “Either way, it matters not to me.  Don’t fool yourself into thinking you can hide her from me four full days.  My men are… tenacious.”

“All right!  All right, I’ll pay it.”  He’d actually expected Ahmet to demand much more money, but he wasn’t about to let on as such.  At least he was erasing the price on her head, and that’s what mattered most.  For her to run away was devastating enough.  To have her taken from him because of a foolish mistake he’d made?  That was something he couldn’t allow.

“Wonderful!” Ahmet cried, and he clapped sharply twice.  “I shall send a man around later today to collect payment.  In the meantime,” a servant girl appeared, carrying a hideous silk scarf.  It was florescent green with an eye-searing orange pattern and gold fringe.  She presented it to Jack, bowed, and backed away.

Jack looked at the thing in disgust.  “What’s all this, then?”

“Why, it’s dear Honour’s protection, friend Jack!  She must wear that beautiful scarf on her person, to let my men know she is not to be harmed.”

“Got anything in a periwinkle?  This one will clash with her, oh, everything.”

Ahmet laughed.  “No, my friend.  That is the signal my men know to follow.  Now, if we’ve concluded our business, I would like to eat my snack.”

Jack wadded up the offensive piece of cloth and stuffed it inside his waistcoat.  He was going to have to come up with a real corker of a tale to get Honour to wear that awful thing.  “I think we’re good.  Thanks, Ahmet.  I knew we’d reach an equitable solution.”  He turned to leave, but Ahmet wasn’t quite finished.

“You know, friend Jack, I am in an especially generous mood today.”

“Are you, now.  Do go on.”

“So happy am I that you and your wife are reunited, I want to do a special favour for you.  Name some fond desire, and I shall grant it if I can,” Ahmet intoned happily as he gestured with a drumstick.

Jack thought for a moment, and his face brightened.  “I’ve told you about Cade Jennings, yeah?”

“Yes, yes you did, my friend!  In fact, he was here only two days ago, looking for a crew.  He did not have much luck, I'm told.”

“Then you know what I want.  I’ll cover any extra expenses.”

Ahmet’s cheery expression changed to one of surprise, then to gleeful malevolence as he contemplated the dark request.  “No need to, friend Jack.  It will be done.”

“Ta, mate,” Jack said as he tipped his hat, then left on his way to find Honour.
« Last Edit: June 22, 2008, 06:53:55 PM by Mad Jack Wolfe »
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Offline Elinor Hakebourne

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #34 on: June 20, 2008, 07:28:14 PM »
Elinor ran until she was off the ship and out of breath. Clutching the stitch in her sides, she observed her surroundings. Two men nearby oggled her with something more than polite admiration, and their looks made her walk quickly away, despite not having adequate time to breath. Bodice dagger, do I have my bodice dagger? she wildly thought as she briskly walked away from the men's jeers, her face scarlet. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea at all. Supernatural occurrences I can deal with, rude men who--I don't even want to finish that statement--I can't easily deal with. Must find my crew. Any of the crew members. Even--

"Oooooof!" She grunted as her face met with a man's chest. Jack Wolfe. "Oh!" She exclaimed as her eyes glanced upward into the Captain's eyes.

"I had the impression you were going to stay on board," Captain Wolfe muttered quietly.

"Well, I, I--" Her hands were shaking, and she could feel her face getting hot. Stop stammering, Elinor! she thought to herself.

"Nevermind," Captain Wolfe interrupted, glancing around. "Would you be able to do a favor for me?"

"Wh-what kind of f-favor?" Elinor stammered, still nervous.

Captain Wolfe gestured to the scarf he held in his hand. "I need my wife, your Captain, to wear this. It is vital that she does so."

Elinor looked from the scarf back to Captain Wolfe, and the tension she had melted away. Giggling, she managed to reply, "You're jesting, surely. Wench wouldn't be caught dead wearing that even if she was alone with no one to see her! It clashes with her--"

"I know," The Captain interrupted her once more. "But, I repeat, it is vital that she does so. Do you understand my meaning?"

Elinor looked at him carefully. He looked completely serious.

"All right, Captain," she said slowly. "I think I can persuade her to don that scarf."

He gave a nod of approval. "I think she'll be more amenable to the notion if it comes from you." Now it was Elinor's turn to nod slightly.

With that, Captain Wolfe parted ways with the scribe, saying, "Watch yourself. You can't be too careful here."

Elinor walked away from him, with one thought running through her mind: How am I ever going to do this?
« Last Edit: June 20, 2008, 08:01:24 PM by Elinor Hakebourne »

Offline Blackjack Roberts

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #35 on: June 20, 2008, 09:26:35 PM »
Blackjack walked quickly to the front of Lil. “Keep a weather eye behind us, Luv. Unless I miss my guess…”

Before he could finish the ominous sound of several hammers being drawn back sounded behind them. Before she knew what was happening Roberts had grabbed her arm and whirled her behind him, Old Hob uncoiled in his left hand. Four seedy looking pirates had come from their hiding place behind the colorful stalls and had leveled their flintlocks at the duo.

“Now, Jack.” The leader smirked. “Even ye should know better than ta bring a whip to a gun fight.” The other three chuckled evilly.

“Aye that may well be, Simon.” Roberts grinned back just as wickedly. “But I’ll still be bettin’ I can change yer religion afore ye, or the rest a yer scurvy dogs can pull them triggers.”

“After what ye just did ta poor Mitchell a few moments ago, I’d be tempted ta take that bet.” Simon Turnbull growled. “Surely ye don’t think ye can take the lot ‘o us afore we blow several holes through ya?”

“No, that I don’t.” Blackjack’s laugh was so vile Lil felt an involuntary shiver run the length of her spine has she slipped a dagger into each hand behind him. “But ye know I can have ye and one other afore I go down. That’s good enough fer me. The question be which one I plan ta take ta Davy Jones with us.”

Simon scowled for a moment then broke into a hearty chuckle. “It’s good ta see ye’ve lost none a yer sand, Mate. Tell ye what, we’ll stand down if’n  you will.”

“You first, Mate.” Blackjack lowered his chin staring at the quartet from just under his eyebrows. His other hand inches from one of his own flintlocks.

“Stow yer gear, Dogs.” Pew’s second in command barked and the three pirates shoved their pistols back into their belts reluctantly. “Now you, Blackjack.”

Roberts began to rewind his bullwhip as he whispered to Lil without moving his lips. “Put your daggers back, Luv. I know you have them out and now’s not the time. Besides, they know full well by now that you are well skilled in their use.”

“Friends of yours?” Lil asked sarcastically as she sheathed her blades.

“Pew’s men.” Blackjack chuckled silently. “As were the fools that attacked us in the street. A test if you will.”

“A…a test?” The lovely brunette piratess gasped. “They tried to kill us for a test?!”

“Aye, Luv.” Roberts sighed. “That’s the reason I did what I did back there. Had I not this lot would have shot us down from ambush the moment we passed. We wouldn’t have stood a prayer. Remember what I told Martin? Mercy here is a weakness we can ill afford and I’d say the worse is yet to come.”

Simon Turnbull walked up to them and held out his hand to Roberts, a vile grin gracing his face. “Good ta have ye back, Mate. Pew’s looking’ forward ta see’n ye again. If he could see that be.”

To Lil’s astonishment the two pirates grasped forearms as if no more had passed between them than an exchange of pleasantries. “Thought I’d gone soft did ye?” Blackjack grinned. “Ye should have known better after I carved up that fool ye sent ta greet us.”

Turnbull’s laugh caused a sick feeling in Lil’s stomach. “It proved ye were still one a the vilest rogues ever to set foot here. This last were ta see if ye could be cowed when the deck were stacked agin ye. Mitchell and them others were no big loss. Pew caught ‘em takin‘ moren‘ their rightful share. Figured he‘d kill two birds with one stone, so ta speak.”

“Count were more like seven if I remembers right.” Roberts chuckled. “I’d say the old bastard owes me a fee fer swabin’ his deck fer ‘im.”

“Ye can take that up with him.” Simon laughed. “He’s wait’n fer ye.” He clapped Blackjack on the shoulder as he motioned expansively toward the closed door at the end of the blind alley. “Pity ye didn’t throw in with us when he offered, Jack. Ye’d be a right dab hand ta have around.”

Out of the corner of her eye Lil kept watch on the other three Pirates as they walked to the door. The rest of the bazaar returning from the cover they had retreated to as if nothing had happened. Simon knocked cryptically on the hardened oak and a soft click was heard from the other side as it swung open. In a way Lil was almost relieved that the three pirates took up positions on either side instead of following them inside.

Simon led them to a second door to the left of the one they had just entered and knocked again. “Git yer bloody arse in here, Simon.” The raspy voice called out. There at a polished mahogany table sat an old salt dressed completely in black. A black silk scarf bound the man’s eyes, yet he dined from a silver plate with the ease of a man who could see. “From the sound of it I’d say Blackjack be with ye, and someone else. A woman unless I miss my guess. The one Sally told us about?”

Lil took in the room. For all intents and purposes it could have very well been the opulent quarters of a ship’s captain on board. Everything about the den was nautical. “Aye.” Turnbull replied. “The one they been say’n Jack’s sweet on.”

“A dangerous child from what I have heard.” Pew chuckled. “But then ye always did play dangerously, didn’t ye, Blackjack? Now what brings ye back here after all these years?”

“Ye know damn well why I be here, Pew.” Blackjack sat down opposite the blind pirate. “I come ta fulfill me obligation, as long as ye fill yers.”

The aged pirate threw back his head and laughed loudly. “I’ve not heard such bilge since Flint took me eyes fer dare’n ta look at his map!” Pew choked laughing and reached for his tankard. “From what I hear that other cousin a yer’s caught ye on Mad Jack Wolfe’s ship and damn near blew yer head off from two hundred yards away!”

“Cousin?!!” Lil burst out and Roberts quickly put a finger to his lips.

“Aye, didn’t he tell ye?” Pew sneered. “Malcolm Dagget be Jack Roberts cousin.”

“That be enough, Pew!” Blackjack’s voice took on a warning tone.

Pew sat back and breathed deeply, a smile of satisfaction on his leathery countenance. “He be right testy about it, too. Still if yer prepared ta tell me what I want ta know, We’ll finish our business.”

“We have an accord, Pew.” Blackjack said stiffly.

“Simon. Fetch Jack’s chest, and that other crate what he sent here from the China’s.” Pew grinned. “And be quick about it.”

After his second left Pew leaned forward. “My offer still stands, Jack. From what Sally told me, ye’ve some new talents what I could use on this little venture.”

“Nay, Pew.” Blackjack said softly. “Ye know as well as I the rest ‘o Flint’s crew wouldn’t be takin’ kindly ta yer cutting’ me in.”

Pew sighed and shook his head sadly. “A pity. Still ye’ve always been fair with me, so I’ll let ye in on a bit ‘o information as a bonus. Ye best keep a weather eye on that blond Captain. Ahmet has a contract on her pretty little head.”

Blackjack went white and Lil gasped. “What would that fat pig be a want’n with her?!!” Roberts demanded.

“From what I can gather Mad Jack Wolfe put a bounty on her last time he were here.” Pew sniffed dismissively. “None ‘o my affair, but I figured ye’d be wantin’ ta know. And that other cousin a yer’s Cade were here two days ago. Took on a crew and lit out like the devil his self were on his heels.”

“Any idea where?” Blackjack asked as coolly as he could. His mind reeling at the thought of Honour at the mercy of Ahmet’s vicious band of murderers.

“Barbados.” Pew replied as the door opened and Simon placed two wood boxes on the table. One small and square, a regular small sea chest about one foot square. The other more of a long rectangle of carved rosewood. Oriental dragons swirled about in carved relief on every surface save the bottom. This one Blackjack opened first.

Lil whistled sharply. Inside lay a sheathed cutlass, nestled in black silk. Blackjack picked up the weapon and pulled it from it’s leather case. Her eyes widened. Never had she seen such a cutlass. Only slightly longer than normal the edge was like none other she had ever seen. A strange wavy mark covered the edge from basket to tip and the basket’s steel was cut out in a fashion that made wicked looking long holes with sharp deadly pointed edges. The handle was rare black jade.

Smiling satisfaction Roberts removed his rapier and fastened the cutlass’ scabbard in it’s place before ramming the strange looking blade home. He tossed Lil the smaller sea chest then turned to Pew. “Now to tell ye what ye’ve waited all these years ta hear. Flint’s map is in the possession of Billy Bones.”

Pew scowled. “That’s not possible! Bones died! Went down with Flint and the ship!”

“Nay, Mate.” Blackjack chuckled. “That’s why ye’ve had neither word nor sniff ‘o that map. Billy Bones lives, and he carries that map in his own sea chest. Now we’re settled?”

“We’ll black spot the bastard for sure!” Pew raged. “That treasure belongs ta us all! See to yer own now, Jack! I’ve work ta do!”

Blackjack grinned and turned to Lil then whispered. “We have to get back to the market as fast as we can, Luv! Captain Wench’s life isn’t worth a brass farthing on this bloody isle!”

Offline Captain Jack Wolfe

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #36 on: June 21, 2008, 01:35:50 PM »
Jack moved around the bazaar until he finally spied Honour and her shopping entourage perusing the wares of a pottery vendor.  “Just what we need,” he sighed.  “More breakables for her to throw.”  Elinor was picking her way through the crowd toward them, so Jack scanning area for signs of trouble.  That was one thing the island could provide in boundless abundance, this time in the form of two men dressed in the unmistakable garb of Amet's men.   A man in rags scurried up to them and pointed in Honour's direction, and they rewarded his treachery with a few coins.  After a brief exchange of words, they split up.  One moved out to approach from the flank, and the second opted for the direct approach, straight towards her.

Panic began to wrap its clammy fingers around Jack's heart.  He couldn't intercept both of them, and he was too far away to shout a warning.  Elinor was still struggling against the press of people in her path, shooing away anyone who tried to buy the hideous rag from her.    The second man was almost halfway through the throng now, bodily shoving those who loitered in his way.  The first man had already disappeared into the mass of people.

Why does this always have to be so complicated, he asked himself.  All he wanted was to do something he wasn't accustomed to at all; clean up a mess he'd created.  Wreaking havoc and leaving a wake of ruin and chaos for others to clean up is easy.  He was finding out the hard way that atoning for one's sins is quite a different matter.  It wasn't important to him that Honour know he'd fixed a mistake, or at least tried.  Quite the contrary.  He knew in his heart that if he was to stand a chance of redeeming himself in her eyes, he needed to find redemption for himself first.  Keeping her alive would be an important step in the right direction.

A desperate idea finally popped into Jack's mind.  “Look!!” he shouted, pointing in the direction the first man had taken.  “Blue flag going up!  The blue flag!  Over there!!”

Like dogs smelling fresh meat, the mob pressed together and moved as one in the direction of the phantom flag.  The first man was trapped and swept along with them, powerless to do otherwise.  Though he couldn't be certain, Jack thought he caught a glimpse of the first man being carried away as well by the mindless surge of humanity.  Jack took the opportunity slip though the crowd's wake and join up with his wife and friends.

"That takes care of them." he sighed with relief.  "Now let's see how persuasive you can be, Elinor."
« Last Edit: June 22, 2008, 02:58:37 PM by Mad Jack Wolfe »
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Offline Welsh Wench

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #37 on: June 21, 2008, 07:08:49 PM »
 "Honour! Fancy meeting you here in the bazaar!" Jack broke out into an overly sincere smile.
"Where did you expect me to be, Jack? Down at the local bathhouse with the unwashed masses of this Hades? I swear, the next time you decide to break a mast, I'd appreciate it if you find a port where malaria is not the national bird!"
"Yes. You know...those birds with the ring on their neck and the green heads. Kind of like---" here Wench grabbed the bottom of a bolt of silk Briggs was holding--"this silk here, the green with the peacock blue shot through it."
"HEY!" Briggs yelled as he stumbled under the flurry of silk bolts shifting.
Jack parted the silks and peered at Briggs through the fabrics and wrapped parcels.
He hissed through his teeth, "Any sign, Briggs?"
Briggs whispered, "Not yet."
Wench looked over at the two of them and said, "What do you two have your heads together about? Briggs? What do you think of this inkwell?"
She hefted it in her hand. "It's practical and has a nice weight to it."
Jack reached over and took it out of her hand, giving it back to the merchant. "She's just looking, thank you very much."
Wench looked over and saw Elinor running to catch up to them, clearly out of breath. Wench put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes.
"And just WHAT are you doing out of bed, young lady? Weren't you told to stay on the ship and rest? Duckie? Didn't you make that clear to her?"
Duckie was haggling with a vendor over a pipe and looked over. "I thought I did. Elinor, you still are not strong enough."
"But I--"
"No 'buts' about it, Elinor. You are in violation of a command from your captain. I should dock your allowance.."
Duckie whispered to Wench.
"You sure? She doesn't get an allow....oh! OH! You mean her share of the booty."
More whispering.
"But we don't HAVE any booty. Not even any plunder!'
Even more whispering.
"Huh? What do you mean they are the same thing? Next thing you will be telling me that plunder and pillage is the same thing!"
Elinor held up the hideous scarf that Jack had given her to sweet-talk and cajole Wench into wearing.
Wench burst into laughter. "Elinor, WHERE on earth did you get this rag that looks like something a gypsy passed on?"
Elinor started, "Wench..."
"Honestly, Elinor! Do I have to take you shopping with me? This looks like something an Obeah priestess--"
and here Wench shot Jack a dagger look--"would wear to an exorcism ceremony!"
"Well, Wench, you..."
Wench picked up the offending cloth by the corner and wrinkled her nose. "Elinor, this isn't even real silk! It looks like a goose lost its lunch of chameleon stew on it!  I mean, the hideous greens and..what do they call this colour? Puke?"
"Puce." Jack supplied.
"That's what I said the first time. Puke."
But, Wench, you see...."
"Unfortunately this is one of the few times in my life that blindness would be an advantage. I wouldn't wear this on a date with even Jack!"
Jack burst out with, "Hey, that's not..."
"Fair? I seem to remember when we got married, Jack Wolfe, that I was wearing a tavern wench's dress and you barely managed to put your hat on. So don't lecture me on the whys and wherefores of the fashion industries in this backwater burg. I swear, this place--aside from the dirt-cheap prices wherever that blue flag goes up--well, this place has about as much redeeming qualities as a boil on your backside!"

She threw the scarf over her shoulder and it landed on Briggs' head like an Arabian's veil.  He couldn't reach it with his full arms.
Wench shook her head. "Elinor, you tell me where you bought that piece of windowcovering that looks like it came out of a discount-price two-for-one-take-what-we-have-because-that-is-all-that-is-on-the-menu bordello!"
"Wench. please...!"
"Don't thank me, Elinor. It's my pleasure. Because we are going to get your money back!"
« Last Edit: June 21, 2008, 07:50:55 PM by Welsh Wench »
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Offline Blackjack Roberts

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #38 on: June 21, 2008, 10:10:10 PM »
As they ran from Pew’s lair the crowd in the alley seemed thicker than it had when they entered. Blackjack and Lil slowed to a crawl from the press of bodies. Lil could hear Roberts cursing as they were soon separated by the crush of human flotsam. Relying on Blackjacks reputation to keep things at least partially civil Lil forced her way through the throng towards the narrow street and turned to wait for Roberts to catch up.

The minutes stretched by and the sudden throng cleared a bit, enough for the lady warrior to see down the alley. Pirates and thieves went about their business as usual, but there was no sign of Blackjack anywhere. Checking her weapons, Lil slipped the small sea chest under one arm and one dagger secretly into her hand and headed back. Soon she was halfway to the oak door leading back to the den they had just left, still no sign of her companion. Concern graced her normally passive features, turning to fear as she spotted it. Blackjack’s caviler hat lay in the dirt of the cobblestones near the stall she had last seen him pass.

“This is not good!” She thought to herself. “Now what do I do? Do I search for Jack, or get back to Wench as fast as I can?”

For long agonizing moments she wrestled with her indecision. There was no choice. Blackjack could take care of himself and her first duty was to her captain. They had been through too much together to let it pass. Reluctantly she picked up the black caviler hat and dusted off on her thigh. Then she ran for the entrance to the alley and disappeared down the narrow street. No one stood in her way this time.

Roberts came to, his head once more throbbing to beat all Hell. The stitches Lil had so carefully placed along his skull burst open by the force of the blow he normally would have seen coming had his concern for his new captain not blinded him. He knew two things instantly. One he was being dragged through the tropical foliage by two strong lads, and his hands were bound behind him tightly.

Allowing himself to remain as limp as a rag doll he assessed the situation as best he could through his half closed eyes. The bonds did not bother him, as he could easily get free of them once the opportune moment arose. Lil was now  filling his main thoughts, had his captors harmed her? The talk from his unwanted companions soon put that worry to rest.

“I still says we should have taken the wench as well.” The pirate to his left growled.

“Nay! Roberts be the only one Simon said ta bring and I’m not about ta go disobeyin’ that order.” His partner replied.

“Pity. She were a right pretty thing. Would have made for an interestin’ evening.” The first grumbled.

Blackjack could feel the blood flowing down his face, watching as drop after drop splattered the greenery they hauled him through  Looking out of one corner of his eye he spotted his cutlass hanging from the right one’s belt. Old Hob and his pistols hung from the one on his left. He would have to ignore his pain and put all his skill to the test. With as little movement as possible he began to work on the knots that held him fast. Damn sailors were too good at the art.

Soon they entered a clearing on the far side of La Ville du Traitre. Gratefully they threw him down on his back, now with his hands hidden from view Blackjack could work on the bindings without stealth. “Damn yer eyes!” He heard Simon Turnbull bellow. “Ye better not have killed him! He’s worth more to us alive!”

“Don’t worry, Mate.” The one with Jack’s cutlass grinned. “He’s alive a’right, But I’d bet he’ll have a right golly whopper of a headache when he regains his senses.”

“Good!” Simon chuckled. “They can’t come ashore till night fall and I wants their prize ta fetch top dollar.”

“What about Pew?” The other asked. “Ye know he has taken a bit ‘o shine ta Roberts. He may not take kindly ta what yer planning, Simon.”

“Pew needn’t know!” Turnbull shot back. “Men disappear all the time here and Blackjack has more’n enough enemies ta take the blame fer it. Now shut yer traps and we’ll celebrate. We’re about ta become rich men!”

“Rich enough ta cover the expense a seperatin’ him from his doxie, I hope.” The pirate with Old Hob said.

“And then some, Mates!” Simon laughed. “And then some!”

The hours crawled by into sunset by the time Blackjack got his hands free of the ropes. Turnbull and his men had whiled away the hours with copious amounts of rum. “This should make the job easier.” Roberts thought as he pulled the poisoned darts from their hiding place in the back of his belt. He knew he would only have one chance and he could not risk anything but perfection. If only his bloody head would quit throbbing.

Suddenly Blackjack sat upright and released the deadly projectiles, catching his two escorts in the back of their necks. With a startled cry they both leapt to their feet. Roberts rolled along the ground as fast as he could slamming into their shins and toppling them face first to the ground. It would take a few moments for the puffer fish poison to take effect and he would have to keep them off balance until then. Simon would now be his main problem.

Jerking his right arm forward he released the throwing dagger from the spring sheath into his palm. With only seconds to spare he threw, catching Simon in the forearm. The flintlock Turnbull aimed at him exploded, the ball missing Blackjack’s head by a mere inch as it buried itself into the ground. The man’s scream filled the air as Jack dove for his weapons.

Simon’s two conspirators were now paralyzed by the toxin racing through their systems, it would be a few minutes before it would finally kill them by suffocation. Blackjack jerked his blade free from the stiff form that lay on the ground and leapt to his feet, the world beginning to spin about him. For the hundredth time he blessed the Lin Qui for the times they had gotten him stinking drunk then forced him to fight. He could see the wisdom in that course of training. Any fool could fight with a clear head and sometimes your life could depend on being able to fight when muddled.

Simon’s eyes were wide with fear as he saw his helpless victim free and wreaking utter havoc on his men and himself. He gritted his teeth and jerked the throwing dagger from his arm as Roberts turned to face him. A smile came to his face. Blackjack was unsteady and staggering slightly. He was wounded more than Simon had realized and that would give him the advantage. Quickly he pulled his own cutlass free of it’s scabbard.

“Ye should have stayed down, Roberts.” He hissed sibilantly. “Yer worth more alive, but now that I don’t have ta share the bounty, dead is just as good.”

Turnbull charged the wobbly pirate. A look of shock replaced his confidence as Blackjack caught his sword arm with ease and buried his new cutlass upward under the man’s ribcage, twisting the steel viciously. Simon’s eyes rolled upward and he slumped to the ground.

That’s when he spotted the ship anchored off shore. A longboat had beached below the small rise and the three lone occupants made for the campfire Simon had built. Roberts first instinct was to vanish into the jungle. Then the moon emerged from the clouds. Malcolm, his remaining Thuggee, and….Dear God! Could it be true? Sir Terrance Blackwood himself!!! Blackjack knew he didn’t have much time. Quickly he pulled the bottle of the Black Lotus mixture from the inner pocket of his jerkin and downed the entire contents. Propping up the three backstabbing dogs around the fire he took cover in the underbrush and waited.

“All right you dogs.” Malcolm said as they entered the firelight. “Where’s Jack Roberts? Don’t think you can up the price by hiding him from us.” He reached over and shook Turnbull’s shoulder. “I’m speaking to you, Man!”

Simon’s body fell over and Dagget cursed. “He’s escaped us again, My Lord! These men are dead!”

“No matter, Malcolm.” Lord Blackwood began. “We know he’s alive and somewhere on this isle. All we have to do is pay the right people and…”

A gurgling cry from the Thuggee brought them around pistols drawn. Blackjack had pulled the thin garroting wire from the seam in his belt and jerked it so hard around the Punjabi’s throat that he nearly decapitated the man. Without thinking Malcolm and Blackwood fired, wasting their shots and ending the Thuggee’s life mercifully.

Roberts hurled the body from him, pulling the vicious cutlass free of his belt. Old hob cracked in the night air, sending Malcolm’s new rapier flying from his grasp. Roberts dropped the whip and with a blur of motion pulled his pistol shooting his cousin through the chest. Dagget groaned and fell to the earth.

“Now you bastard!” Blackjack grinned the vilest smile Sir Terrance had ever seen on a man. “It’s just you and me. You’ll rue the day you ever laid your filthy paws on Jenny! But you’ll not rue it long!”

“Wait Roberts! I didn‘t mean to kill her! I was aiming for you!” The aristocrat trembled. “I can make you a rich man! Have you pardoned! Anything you want! Just name it! Please!!”

Blackjack Roberts strode over to the cowering woman beater in two strides ramming his cutlass through the man’s chest with such force he lifted Blackwood into the air for a moment. Staring into the dying man’s eyes he whispered. “I want Jenny back, you son of a belch!”

Terrance Blackwood slumped to the ground, his gurgling breathing growing fainter by the moment until it ceased altogether. “I’ve done it, My love.” Blackjack choked. “I’ve sent Blackwood to Hell for you and you can rest in peace now. I don’t think I’ll ever see you again, my own sins are too great, but if they led to the death of the man who abused you it was all worth it. Rest easy now, Darling.”

“My God! It was true!” The familiar voice brought Roberts around ready to kill Malcolm at the slightest sign of treachery. “How could I have been so blind?!”

Blackjack slid the glistening blade through his belt and knelt at Malcolm’s side, gently turning him onto his back. Dagget grasped his hand tightly, the pain and sadness in his brown eyes heart wrenching to see. “Please, Cousin! Forgive me!” He choked a thin trickle of blood slowly tracing from the corner of his mouth. “I could die peacefully if only I knew you would find it in your heart to forgive me for all I have done to you!”

Roberts pulled Malcolm’s red velvet coat and white silk shirt apart and examined the bullet hole he had placed through him. It would seem he was more unsteady than he had thought. The ball had passed cleanly through the furthest side, probably grazing Malcolm’s lung. Nothing immediately life threatening, but Malcolm would die if it was left untreated.

“Your not dead yet, Mate.” Roberts grinned as he threw his cousin’s arm around his shoulder. Hanging on with one hand he retrieved Old Hob, twirling the whip into a coil he fastened it back to his belt. “And you won’t. Not if I have a say in the matter.”

Malcolm Dagget looked at Blackjack’s face. “Your bleeding like a stuck pig! You’ll die if you try to take me with you! Forgive me and leave me here! For the love of God, Man, save yourself!”

Jack’s turquoise eyes sparkled merrily. “Oh, I don’t think so. I’ve a few new tricks up me sleeve that ye don’t know about.” With that Blackjack half dragged his cousin back through the jungle towards the port. Somehow he would have to convince Mad Jack to let Duckie save the life of the man who damaged his ship.
« Last Edit: June 21, 2008, 10:22:41 PM by Blackjack Roberts »


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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #39 on: June 23, 2008, 09:12:02 AM »
'Sure, that's what needs to happen.'
Lil made a sour face at a grubby-faced youth who seemed to taken a shine to her and began to shadow her steps.
The streets of this town had never been fully developed.
 In all actuality the entire town was a hodgepodge of dead-end streets.
Lil was retracing her path back towards the port;
although it looked to her that they had moved the port while she had been away.
After the third dead-ended street she had walked up, she was certain she had made a wrong turn, and was now lost.
"buggery" she muttered and turned around, again, and walked back down the street she had just walked up.
This street was laid with crushed shells, so she knew she must be near the port.
None of the streets had signs.
She looked up above her head, some buildings were three stories tall and some 'buildings' were tents leaned against the support of the buidlings to either side of them.
'''Scuse!" she sang as she stepped off the pathway and cut through one of these tented shops onto another street.
'Like walking through a penny dreadful.'
Lil seemed to be going the wrong way, again. Never mind that her mind was preoccupied with Pew's words against her Captain, and the dissapearence of Blackjack.
She stepped out of the tent and onto a new street.
This street was something straight out of the London Plague era.
"This whole bloody island is like a book pieced together from chapters of mulitple genres all bound into one cover!"
"Weel, whatcha expext? nary a man who's live on the island wots brought a piece of 'ome wit'em. 'Corse it be jumbly-umblied. 'Tis ome!"
The youth was only three steps behind her now, and talking in some dialect that was completely foreign to Lil's ears.
"Sounds like you been all over, where you from with words like those?"
Lil had had a dagger in her hand this entire journey, with the youth not making any threatening moves, she saw no reason to spill blood.
He was a scruffy thing, possibly ten, maybe fifteen. He was small, skinny, with bright green eyes
and hair the same color as Captain Wolfe's.
The brat grinned; he had all his teeth.
"S'all over; you?"
Lil nodded as she began to walk South down the street that had one redeeming quality, there were no drunk sailors laying in her path. The kid followed her again.
"I'll tell you where I am from," she said "but, in trade for information."
His eyes were old, they held the depth and breadth of the ocean in them.
Those eyes stared at her unblinking as she turned to see if he was still follwoing her.
"Guessing ye be wantin' back to yer a fancying ship ita be in portie? Fair's 'nough. Ta fallowing me, ifn' yer be pleasin'."
The boy immedietly stepped into the first open door to his right.
Lil froze on the street.
After a moment, the boy stuck his head out the door and glared at her.
'Ye be wantin' to stayin' on Deathie's Row? Fair's 'nough, justa be thinking youda wanted to be stepping lively. Ita be gettin on to darkeness soon enough. C'monie then, missus."
Lil barely had time to translate his garbled words when two men of questionable occupation seem to take an interest in her from about ten yards down 'Death's Row'.
'Better luck following the kid, than with those two.'
Against her natural instinct to stay and fight, she stepped into the door.
It looked like she had stepped into the backroom of an apothocary.
"Ravel? Who'd ya bring fer the stew pot?"
Lil's heart jumped into her throat as she understood those words quite clearly.
"Nay, Mam, she be just passin' through."
A dark skinned women was sitting on a chair made of antlers, horns, and streched hide of some sort.
The youth was standing next to her, handing her a cup of something.
Her milky white eyes stared directly at Lil as she sipped from the cup.
"A she be a fair one, that one, but she be dangerous. Good on you, lad. What did you be promising her?"
The youth took the cup from the old women's offered hand and sat it back on the small table next to her.
"Guidin' her's to her ship, wot be in fer fixin' Mam."
The old women nodded silently; she looked down at the floor and seemed to be lost in thought.
Lil looked around the store. It was bleak, there were no fresh scents of healing herbs.
There were no customers browsing, sniffing bottles. The entire front of the shop looked deserted.
There were a few bottles on a table, and even less on the shelves.
The front of the place was facing a street that opened up with a view that looked down on the harbor; where she saw the El Lobo in port. A small vessel was moored next to it and there was a team of gents swarming the ship as they reset a brand new mast into place.
Lil held a small smile to herself.
"Thank you for all your help, Ravel, is it? I can be on my way now. Lots to do, many things to fix."
Lil gave a slight bow of courtesy in their direction.
"Just a moment;" the women said.
She stood shakily, the boy went to help, but, she brushed him off.
"You are not what you seem, girlie girl. And all those around you seem to share that same affection for themselves. Best be watching and looking and getting on with your entire reasoning for doing what you do."
Lil stepped back involuntarily. How did this strange person know? Was it that obvious?
"I thank you for your advice; and seeing as you have stated I must be getting on.
I can see my ship from here and I must go."
"Wait!" her voice stopped Lil's feet once more.
The old lady mumbled to herself a moment, and walked with purpose to the front table covered in bottles to the left of the door that would be Lil's escape route.
Gathering things and bits into a woolen bag, the women gestured for Lil and the boy to come to her.
"Ravel, you promised, so take her to the ship. And you," she stared with her shining white eyes at Lil and offered her the bag. "Take this, never know when you will need a bag of mischief."
She smiled a gap-toothed grin of wickedness.
Lil accepted the bag warily and smiled a hesistant smile.
"I thank you for your genorosity, seeing as I had left my bag of mischief in Glen Livet, this will do nicely."
Ravel then gestured her towards the door.
"Thisun way, besta be gettin' to yer boat."
Lil followed the boy out onto a street that was lined with storefronts selling all sorts of items.
She held the bag warily.
"Ravel? What did she just give me?"
The boy was darting looks around him with every step. He shrugged.
"Not be knowin' the arts, miss, 'prolly nothin' but bits o' twig, or coulda be gunpowder and mint tea. Who be knowin' wit Mam. She be a bit funny. No'un would mess with her even ats a spot o land such as like this be."
Lil nodded and brought the bag up to her face and sniffed. She recoiled instantly.
The smell was dreadful. She coughed as she tried to determine the stench's properties.
"Smells like old sock and vinagered wine."
Ravel grinned at her words, seeing two men coming towards them, he made a gesture and they dispersed.
"Seems you know plenty of people here."
Lil's voice was light as she watched what he had done and how the men responded.
"Like a family, we be."
Lil was not so sure about that. If this island had taught her anything in her oh-so short time here.
Nothing was what it seemed.

Offline Hibernian

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #40 on: June 30, 2008, 07:46:03 PM »
Kate and Brother Timothy followed Souris through the streets, the young boy lead them through several turns, streets wide and narrow, until they were uncertain exactly which way was which. Yet no matter how they turned the steeple of St. Dimas could be seen above the roof line getting closer.

While they were clearly not alone on the street, none came close; it was as if they were ringing a leper’s bells. In fact, much as it happened on the dock many glanced their way but when the good brother would turn to address them, they suddenly stopped, stared and quietly withdrew. The crewmates from the Knight’s Hammer took note of the crowds continued reaction and neither could offer a satisfactory explanation.

Once Kate stopped to examine some lace, obviously booty from an unfortunate merchantman, and was in the midst of bartering a very good price when suddenly the shop keeper grabbed the lace and threw down his curtain. “Closed, go away,” was all he said. Kate turned to find that Brother Timothy has silently come up behind her. There was no time for explanations as Souris yelled for them to come.

Still the steeple moved closer until finally they were so close it disappeared concealed by the angle of the roofs. Rounding another corner, their forward progress halted as their mouths dropped open. There was St. Dimas, larger than expected perhaps, in the middle of what could best be described as the commons.

Now this commons shared the usual traits with commons seen all over the civilized world; a large square of green grass open to all. What made this commons unique, what stopped Brother Timothy and Kate in their tracks, was this common was full of holes. It appeared that the ground around the Church of St. Dimas had been attacked by giant moles!
"Badges? We don't need no stinkin badges!"

Offline Welsh Wench

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #41 on: July 01, 2008, 08:28:24 PM »

Elinor shot Jack a helpless look. Jack tried to mouth something back as Wench looked over. He quickly shut it.
"Jack, I would highly recommend that you shut your mouth. You look like a guppy. Do you want to come down with mallard?"
"Yes. That disease you get from mosquito bites. All you need is one to go down your throat and bite you."
She reached over and put her hand on his forehead. "You aren't feverish or chilled, are you?"

Briggs blew his breath out and the scarf became air-born. It floated through the air and landed on Jack's hat.
He looked up and whipped it off.
"Um..Honour...actually Elinor and I went shopping for you and bought this lovely--see the designer label?--scarf for you. We thought it would look fetching around your neck."
"Fetching? Only if you throw a ball and I chase it and bring it back. IN MY MOUTH!"
She turned to Elinor. "Hon, I appreciate the effort. And the thought that went into it--all twenty seconds of it, Captain Jack what-do-I-know-about-good-taste Wolfe--but I think we really need to exchange it for something in my size."
Jack exploded, "In your size? For the love of God, Honour, it's not a pair of boots!"
She shot him a look. "More's the pity, Wolfe. It MAY pass for a pair of socks. At least the socks would be hidden in the boots."

She turned to Elinor and asked sweetly, "Which merchant did you buy this from?"
Elinor pointed in a general direction. "Over..there. Somewhere."
"There? What? Jack Wolfe, you bought me a scarf from the Blue Flag Special? What is this? Kashda Mart?"
"There's nothing wrong with shopping there. Quality but at a price! And look at the label! It says 'Marwah Suraqau'. So you know it's a good thing, right?"
"Wrong. It's a bad thing. Jack, this ranks right up there with that hideous piece of jewelry you gave me when we got married."

Jack brightened up. "You still have that, don't you?"
She waved her hand. "Somewhere.... it's stuck in a boot or something. I guess I'll find it someday."
Jack looked at the scarf and then Honour's neck. "But it would look so pretty on you. Please? For me?"
Wench said, "No. Not for you. I would not, could not, in this port. I would not, could not wear it for sport. I would not wear it here or there. I would not wear it ANYWHERE!"

Jack held it up against her face. "But it suits your colouring so well."
She grabbed it out of his hand and then wrinkled her nose.
"What's that smell?"
"Smell? What smell?"
"It smells like...I don't that time I was at that castle and there was a rumour of a creature that would suck the blood out of you. I remember because I turned to--whoever my companion was--and I said, 'HA! Jack Wolfe is in the Caribbean, not in England!' And they gave us these garlands to wear and it..THAT'S IT! That's the smell!"
"What smell?"
"GARLIC! Good grief, Jack! Not only does it smell like that garlic Chicken Adobo we had in Bridgetown--and I remember because I got sick on it--but it looks hideous!"
"Honour, darling---"
"Take it back or wear it yourself, Jack Wolfe!  BECAUSE I WON'T!"
She linked arms with Duckie and said "Come along, Briggs! We haven't even hit the boot tent yet!"
« Last Edit: July 12, 2008, 05:10:29 PM by Welsh Wench »
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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #42 on: July 03, 2008, 11:00:55 AM »
"Wells be, it a Port-un towne, and thisun be ye Port!"
Ravel grinned with a mock bow and a flourished hand towards the docks and piers beyond.
Lil watched covertly; that flourished hand had made some suddenly interested brutes become just as suddenly disinterested.
She cocked an eyebrow at Ravel and his impish grin.
"Like family? Huh, seems be you got cousins crawling all over."
His face never moved from its grin.
'He's like Puck', she thought as she walked past him and towards the piers.
She took in a healthy breath of Sea-air, Sea-gulls, and chum.
"Yep, a sailor's life for me." She sighed and proceeded down the docks, but, she had a feeling she had not ditched Ravel all that easily.
"Missun! You's be fergit our deal, where ye be hailing from?"
Lil slowed her pace and waited for the boy to match pace. She smiled slightly.
"Ah yes, so I had. Fair enough, I come from another island, similiar to this one, it is larger and covered in townes and villages."
Ravel waited as she and he continued walking.
They walked past Dockside shacks that held men and supplies, and dockside drunks and doxies.
None of whom stirred themselves to even look at the pair as they passed.
Passing strange.
"eh? so where be ye from?"
Lil nodded at Martin, who was casually leaning against a building. The building looked like it was grateful for the cook's supportive mass.
"Why, I be from Malta."
Ravel paused in his step as Lil instinctively paused next to him. You never let your foe see your back.
"Malta? What be'in Malta?"
Lil's face remained passive as inwardly she felt glee at trumping this youth, who seemed to be more than just a pier rat.
"Nuthin' that is why I am here!"
Lil gave a simple incline of her head, "I thank you for your secure assistance back to my vessel, and think this is as good a spot as any to part ways."
Ravel gave an even more flourished bow (one she was supsecting he practiced in front of a mirror for that one day when it might actually impress one of the gentler sex.)
"Aye, it be'un all me pleasures mum."
"Give it about ten years, sprog, and they'll not leave you alone."
Ravel beamed at the compliment as Lilaney turned and walked back to her ship.
"Was thinking you had that one in hand." Martin sidled up next to her as they walked the remaining way back to their ship.
The men on the pier, once lazing and overall being bored for the sake of being bored.
Were now happily robbing the El Lobo Mar as the other gentlemen who were attaching the mast were too busy at their job to care what was happening around them.
"Hey!" Lil shouted as one man{woman?} dressed up in three skirts, four shirts, two bodices, a pair of mis-matched boots, and a hat that had seen better days, rushed by her.
The overall mess of the pier was immense; it was covered in all the belongings that had once been neatly stored on the boat and now, it all but littered the scene in front of them.
Shocked, Martin and Lil gaped at the mess.
"OY!" Martin bellowed.
The handful of men who were picking through the heaps of clothes, tools, equipement, and sundries froze at the bellow of the man before them.
The handful of strange men on the boat ceased throwing things over the side with zealous energy.
"Who's in charge?"
Martin's voice dared any to nay-say him as he stepped forward, planted both feet wide, crossed his arms in front of him and glared them all down.
As if on cue, they all raised their collective arms and pointed down the pier, past Lil and Martin and pointed.
Lil turned to see a pair of bright green eyes smiling back at her.

They were pointing at Ravel.

He gave a mocking bow and dissapeared into the roving crowd of the docks.
She could not come up with anything foul enough to compare with what she truly thought of him.
Turning away from the crowd, she choked back a laugh at the new sight in front of her.
Martin was in his elemenet as he waded in to the stores and sundries.
Ankle deep in the confused mire he began pitching Pirates and scum off the pier and into the water like they were bath toys.
One particular pirate did a rather specatacular belly flop as he entered the brackish water.
"Um? Martin! That one was one of ours..!"
Lil could not hold her laughter in as the other Pirates on the ship fled as they could.
Some jumped off the other side of the ship, some came tumbling down the gangplank, and who ever was not fast enough, Martin helped them along.
"Lil! Go see where the crew is, so we can start getting all these things back on the boat!"
Lil, sides sore from laughing, went up the now deserted gangplank

 and found about ten of the El Lobo crew tied up around the brand new shiny mast.

"Well, I must say, they do good work." Lil muttered as she released the crew members.
With shame-faces they went down to the pier and began gathering up all the belongings and taking them back on the ship.

"They got the best of us." One old tar said as he walked by.
"yeah, but, when they be hollerin' 'WHAT'S THAT!' and pointin skyward. I'm gonna look up, who knew there won't nuthing to look at but clouds!?"
The younger man eyed the lacy pillow in his hands as he hustled onto the quarterdeck.
"Guessin' they ain't never seen clouds afor." The old Man muttered as he snatched the lacy Pillow out of the youngster's hands and lumbered off with it.
"That's mine. The green one be the Missus Wolfe's."
Lil knowing that the mayhem was becoming orderly topside, went to inspect the interior of the ship.

'This only looks like a smash and grab.' she thought as she surveyed the Surgery.
Nothing in there had been touched.
"That'll make Duckie happy." she muttered and she turned around to leave the spotless room.
"What'll make me happy?"
Lil started so bad she tripped on the hem of her skirt and fell hard onto her backside.
Duckie helped heave her back to her feet. As soon as she was balanced again, he dropped her hand.
"Uh, um.. that the pillaging looked to be only for show."
Duckie cocked his head at an angle and stared at her.
"What pillaging?"
Lil was taken aback.
"The pillaging that happened on the pier! The mess of clothes, and books, and things strewn all over the place!? Didn't you see it?"
Duckie blinked.
"What are you talking about... oh! That was pillaging!? I thought your Captain was looking for something!"
Lil felt like she should be affronted for her Captain at this statement. But, she shared a private smile with Duckie about it.
"I'm going topside, care to join me?"
Duckie looked oddly at Lil and nodded as they went back up into the fading light of the day together.
« Last Edit: July 10, 2008, 02:58:09 PM by lilaney »

Offline Captain Jack Wolfe

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #43 on: July 03, 2008, 11:28:31 AM »
'Why do I even bother with that infuriating woman?' he fumed to himself as he stood in the lane, the ugly cloth clutched in his fist.  He already knew the answer to the question.  For him, every other woman paled in comparison to Honour Bright.  Or Welsh Wench, or whatever alias struck her fancy that day.  Jack watched her retreating form, momentarily mesmerized by the swaying of her hips.  Oh, those hips...

Inspiration hit him like a bolt from the blue.  He tucked the fabric into his belt at his back and began walking quickly after her and her entourage.  “Honour!  Wait!” he called.  She stopped and looked up at the sky in exasperation for a moment, then turned to face her husband.

“What now?  Find another swatch from an Arabian nightmare you want to try and burn my eyes out with?  I'm trying to shop here!”

“Far be it from me to keep you from your second favourite pastime, love,” Jack demurred.  “But I couldn't help noticing that your sword belt was askew.  Knowing how you hate to look unkempt, I thought you'd appreciate it if I straightened things out for you.”

Honour crossed her arms and glared at him.  “You were staring at my butt again, weren't you.”

“Not staring,” he corrected.  “Admiring.  At length.  Now, give us a spin.  Come on, shift it!”  She sighed and turned to face away from him.  Quick as lightning, Jack had the gauzy material tucked into her sword belt.  He adjusted the way the rapier sat against her hip, then adjusted it once more to make sure the cloth wouldn't slip free.  “There.  Much better.”  Duckie tried hard to hide an amused look, and Elinor stifled a giggle.

Honour turned and looked at Jack with a smile he found oddly alluring.  She stepped close and put her arms around his neck.  “Jack,” she purred, “I was thinking about how I've never properly thanked you for everything you've done for me and my crew...”

“I'll show you my gratitude if you show me yours, darling.  My cabin's always open to you...”

She smiled and licked her lips.  “Before we get to that, there is one thing I need from you.”

“Name it, and it's yours.”

She reached back and yanked the scarf from her belt and held it in front of his face.  “Get it through your thick skull that I will NOT wear this damned ugly failed experiment in psychedelia!  Next time you try something like this, I will nail it to your chest with my bodice dagger!”

Jack smiled, and his eyes drifted down until he spied the glint of metal.  “And what do you know!  There it is, just like the night we met.”

Angrily, she stuffed the kerchief into his shirt.  “You are impossible!” she huffed, then turned on her heel and marched back to her entourage.  “Come along, everyone!  My shopping list just got longer.”

Jack watched with a self-satisfied smirk on his face as she walked away.  When she yanked the rag from her belt, an inch wide strip tore free and was left draped from the small of her back to the basket of her rapier.  The strip of cloth swayed back and forth with every step she took.

Oh, those hips, he thought wistfully...

« Last Edit: July 03, 2008, 02:00:10 PM by Mad Jack Wolfe »
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Offline Hibernian

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Re: Dead Man's Tavern II
« Reply #44 on: July 04, 2008, 10:09:00 AM »
Kate’s eyes widened as she took in the commons, “This is certainly different and not exactly what I expected to see in the middle of a town, even a town such as this.”

As he approached the nearest hole Brother Timothy slowly looked about, there was no pattern to be seen, holes were everywhere to the point that very little green space remained in the commons. “Kate, no animal marks here, theses holes look like they have been dug by shovels, some are deeper than others and it just doesn’t make sense. They just encircle the entire church.”

“Brother have you noticed how the holes arc around the church? Look, see the outer edge of the holes form a circle around the church almost like it had a halo.”

“Yes, as if whoever was digging the holes was following a line on a map.”

“Well, Brother and lady are you going to dig now? I know someone who has shovels you can buy.” Souris stood in the shade next to a shop looking at them waiting for an answer.

Brother Timothy and Kate moved toward him, “Why would we wish to dig?”

“I’m sorry Brother, but when you asked to come to the church I thought you were looking for the treasure like everyone else. To look for the treasure you must dig, to dig you need a shovel, my friend has shovels, for a price.”

The two exchanged glances, “Souris, what treasure?”

Souris looked at them as if they had asked him what sun in the sky, “The treasure of the thief, the treasure of St. Dimas, everyone knows about it!”
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