Author Topic: DEAD MAN'S TAVERN I  (Read 28242 times)

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Offline Welsh Wench

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« Reply #30 on: May 19, 2008, 09:14:14 PM »
Reply author: Elinor Hakebourne
Replied on: 02/02/2008 10:45:00

Compared to the commotion that occurred on the main deck of the El Lobo, Dr. Gander's surgery was silent. There was no urgent shouting, no frantic cutting of ropes, for the peril inside the surgery was quite different than the peril outside it. There was only the sound of Lil's foot tapping impatiently on the floor, watching as Dr. Gander calmly and thoroughly worked on his patient, despite the din outside.

As the cheers rang in the air, signaling the news that the El Lobo was now free, Dr. Gander finished stitching up Elinor's wound, and she regained consciousness.

"What is the yelling for?" Elinor mumbled. "So loud--" She heard a gasp come from the other end of the room, where Lilaney had been pacing nervously. A moment later and Lil was at her side. "Lil!" Elinor exclaimed. "What happened?" She glanced at her left arm and saw the fabric of her left sleeve cut away, revealing the wound she'd received and the stitches that now decorated her arm. The greater part of her sleeve was soaked in blood. "Lil!" She exclaimed again. "You stitched me up! You--"

"Didn't," Lil replied simply. "I helped a little, but Dr. Gander did most of it."

"What?" Elinor asked, confused. "But--you were supposed to do it! I was supposed to let you treat me, not him!"

"You weren't in a condition to choose," Dr. Gander responded. "You'd fainted right after telling me your friend was able to treat you. I had to take the matter into my hands, it was the only way."

"It wasn't the only way!" Elinor exclaimed. "Lil could have done it, she--" Elinor made to clench her left hand, and found that her fingers were stiff. Why can't I move my fingers as I used to? she thought.

"Elinor," Lil began, grasping her right hand. "I'm glad you think so highly of me, but I'm not as experienced as Duckie is. I am willing to give up my pride to see that you get better," She finished, squeezing Elinor's hand.

"Lil is a good surgeon, Dr. Gander," Elinor persisted, but with half the fight in her now after hearing Lilaney's words.

"Things had to be done quickly. I knew where my supplies were, and I was best equipped to help you. That was a serious injury you withstood," Dr. Gander responded. "I knew I had to act fast." He paused. "How are you feeling?"

"Woozy," Elinor mumbled. "And I--can't move my fingers right--"

"That'll take some time," Dr. Gander replied.

"Some time?" Elinor quietly asked. "Do you know what's going on out there? I need to be there, observing and recording what's--"

"No, you don't," Dr. Gander responded. "You need to rest."

"How am I supposed to rest knowing my fingers won't grip a quill adequately for me to write once I'm rested enough to return to my job? Will I be able to do my job? I don't have any idea, I've never been shot before! Oh, no, I won't be able to be on the crew anymore, I'll--"

"ELINOR!" Lil shouted over her friend's worry-filled rambling.

The door opened, momentarily letting in the noise from the upper decks. "I could transcribe for you," said a soft voice from just inside the door. Elinor turned her gaze from her friend to the visitor at the door. "Oh. You." She muttered, glancing back at Lil.

"So you did meet, then," Dr. Gander said brightly.

Lil looked at Elinor, confused. "I'm Julian, the El Lobo's scribe." He held out his hand for Lil to shake, which she did, her face dawning with recognition. She flashed Elinor a smile. "What?" Elinor asked.

"Nevermind!" Lilaney responded in a sing-song voice.

"I saw what happened, but couldn't get to you in time," Julian responded, oblivious to the unspoken conversation that was taking place between the two women. "Are you allright?"

Elinor sighed. "Not entirely." She glanced at Dr. Gander. "But, I suppose, I need to thank you for your swift thinking and execution, Dr. Gander. Things might be worse if it hadn't been for you. So, thank you."

"You are most welcome, my dear," Dr. Gander replied, a small smile forming on his lips. "I am glad you are doing better."

"Lil is a good surgeon, though," Elinor said once more, under her breath.

Just then, a shot rang out on the main deck. Its sound reverberated through the air, reaching the ears of those inside the surgery. "What just happened?" Elinor asked, voicing the thoughts of each person in the room.

They didn't have long to wait for the answer to that question, for a few moments after the doors to the surgery swung open, and Blackjack was carried in by some of the El Lobo crew members, a dark stain bleeding through the black head scarf he wore.


Reply author: Mad Jack Wolfe
Replied on: 02/02/2008 17:30:16

"Oh, damn." Duckie fretted, noting Blackjack's head wound. "Lil, you need to tend fully to Elinor for the moment. You've seemed to be angling for my approval, so here may be your chance."
"I have not!" Lilaney protested.
"You're in my surgery now, and debate is not something available to you, are we clear? Keep pressure on that wound, and give her a tincture of laudanum ," he ordered.
"Laudanum won't help her," argued Lil.
"Yes, but then she won't care much about her injury, will she? Now, get to it!"

Duckie turned his attention to Roberts, whose headscarf was soaked with blood. He washed his hands in a relatively fresh basin of water and gently pulled the scarf free. "Well, what have we here?" he asked no one in particular. He gently turned Blackjack's head and felt the back of the wounded man's skull. "No exit wound..." he muttered. His fingers continued to probe back toward the injury. "The skull is still firm, that's encouraging," he noted. He reached the injury itself, and took a deep breath as he probed the wound with his little finger.

Duckie smiled. "Bone. I feel solid bone! It's only a graze! Thank goodness the fusil boucanier isn't as accurate as they claim." He picked up a fine needle and silk thread. "Lil, would you like to learn how to properly suture a wound?"
"Um, yes. I would," she offered. She'd done this procedure several times before, but she was always willing to learn, and Duckie seemed more than ready to teach. Maybe she'd pick up something new.
"Well, here's your chance to increase your repertoire," he said. "Here, I'll talk you through it while I tend to Elinor."

Lil was hesitant, but she traded places with the doctor. "What do I do? There's so much blood!"
"Head wounds bleed profusely, dear. Don't let it intimidate you. Splash some clean water on the wound, and dab it as dry as you can." Duckie instructed.
Lil did as she said, then picked up the needle and threaded the silk through it. "What do I do now?" she asked nervously.

"Keep your cloth handy to clear any blood from the wound. It's like darning a sock, really. Just not as tight. Start from the front of the wound, picking up the skin with the needle, and sew it closed. If anything like metal should catch your eye, pick it out, flush the wound again, and keep going. Just like I showed you with Elinor, only this time you don't have to stitch under the skin." he reassured.

Lil began stitching Blackjack's scalp back together very slowly, then gained speed as her confidence increased. "Duckie, what if this leaved an ugly scar?" she asked.
"Scars are tattoos with better stories, Lil. You're doing fine. That's my girl, just tight enough to solidly heal. You're quite the natural at this!"
"She tried to tell you," Elinor slurred.
"Yes, but now I know for myself," Duckie whispered. "Go to sleep."
"OK," Elinor smiled.

"All right, I think I'm done," Lil said.
"Let's take a look, shall we?" Duckie said quietly as he stepped in close to examine her work. "Very nice. Very nice, indeed. Now, wash the wound again, dry it, and bandage it up. I'd say your patient's prognosis is excellent!"

Lil beamed with pride as she finished bandaging Blackjack's head, and they eased the wounded man on to a cot. As she washed her hands in the basin, Duckie cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, do you need something?" she asked.
"As a matter of fact, I do," Duckie said. "It's obvious that while Jack can get us into more than enough trouble, Honour can easily treble it. I need someone with your considerable, if unpolished skills. I'll happily teach you to shore up your abilities. All I ask is that you abide by my rules and procedures of keeping a proper surgery. I know you're used to doing things your own way..."
"Yes," Lil interrupted.
"I beg your pardon?" asked Duckie.
"I said 'yes', you overeducated windbag! Yes, I want to learn from you!"
"Oh! Good! You promise not to sling any more knives at me when we disagree?" he smiled.
"I'll try to restrain myself," Lil smiled devilishly.
"Delightful!" Duckie grinned. "Now, finish cleaning things up, and I'll see you first thing in the morning, yes? Have a good night!"

Lil looked around the surgery and shook her head. The table was a literally a bloody mess, and the floor littered with blood-soaked rags.

"You think he's cute," Elinor giggled.
"Shut up and sleep!" Lil snapped.


Reply author: Mad Jack Wolfe
Replied on: 02/03/2008 19:39:39

"I want the condition and disposition of one Mr. Roberts once he's awake" Jack raged. "I'll be damned if I risk life and limb before I put us all in harms way for a single member of her crew. I'm fed up with her agreeing to have a blended crew unless she's hell bent on defying me. If she continues to defy me on such matters, then I know a few islands in need for a new governor. Damn it... the last thing I needed was to be embroiled in a private little war now with England!"

Briggs scribbled down Jack's ranting as best he could. The upshot was that Honour need to toe the line and act like a member of this crew whether is suited her or not.

Honour appeared as if on cue. "So I take it we return to port for repairs," she asked cheerily.
"Absolutely not," Jack snapped. "We've already garnered too much attention there. We'll make what repairs we can at sea, and..." as he finished some calculations and drew some heavy lines on the chart, "...we're going HERE. No debate. It's 2 days out of our way, but I didn't expect to have the entire third Expeditionary Force breathing down my neck!"
"What's the island's name?" Honour asked.
"La Ville du Traitre. I thought the name appropriate, give the circumstances. Good people, and repair priced are cheap. We'll make landfall in two days, no discussion. They're excellent at solid repairs, a situation you should be well acquainted with, darling. No shore leave. Briggs, Duckie, Martin, and I are the only ones allowed ashore. And I'll not debate it!."


Reply author: Elinor Hakebourne
Replied on: 02/03/2008 19:55:02

Lil set about starting to clean up the surgery, leaving Elinor no choice but to succumb to the weariness that was overtaking her, lulling her into sleep.

But not before she saw out of the corner of her eye a shadow slip past her and approach the door to exit. "And you were just going to leave, after you came in, so concerned?" She demanded. Sleep will have to be delayed for a moment, she thought.

Julian turned back to face her. "You need rest! I didn't think you'd be up for much conversation right now, after that laudanum--"He began.

"I didn't really need you to be so stuffy and cold earlier, either. I could have used a friend, but no! You couldn't be bothered!" Elinor mumbled, trying her best to sound angry, but failing miserably.

"I didn't--"Julian started once more, but then paused. "What is that?" He opened the door to better hear the noise out on the main deck. "Sounds like Captain Wolfe is angry enough for the both of you," Julian responded, glancing at Elinor. "He doesn't seem too happy with your Captain," he added, glancing back through the sliver of open doorway.

"Who is? I mean, I am, but, really, who is?" Elinor slurred. "She's always going after one pair of boots or another--"

"That is enough," Lil said crossly. She pointed at Julian. "You? Out. You're just riling her up, when she needs to rest." As soon as Julian made a hasty exit out of the surgery, Lil turned to her friend. "You? Sleep. Please?" Elinor gazed back at her, and nodded, finally allowing herself to relax and drift off to sleep, despite the row that ensued just outside.


Reply author: Welsh Wench
Replied on: 02/03/2008 19:56:27

"What do you mean, 'no shore leave'?"
Wench waved her boot in front of Jack's face. "Look at this heel. LOOK AT IT!"
The heel was just inches from Jack's nose.
"Do you expect me to limp around on one boot heel for the extended voyage?"
Jack pushed the boot away and said crossly, "You have plenty of boots in the closet and YOU KNOW IT!"
She raised her eyebrow. "And what has YOU so cranky this fine day?"
"Fine day. FINE DAY??? Look at my ship!"
She looked around. "What? Our ship has a few scratches."
"A few scratches. Are you out of your mind, woman?"
"Hey, I've seen worse!"
Kate came on the deck and said, "I'll say! You should see the parking job she..."
Kate faded away as she saw Wench standing behind Jack motioning to her with a finger drawn across her throat.
Jack whirled on Wench and she just shrugged. "She meant the parking job the other ships did to the Knight Hammer. I had a longboat that got a bit of a ding when the helmsman got a bit too close to the dock. That's all. A little putty and it was as good as new."
Jack turned to Kate and said, "Is this true?"
Kate said, "Sure. A ding. That's all it was. A little bitty scratch."
As she walked by Wench, she whispered, "You SO owe me!"

Jack started to walk forward. Wench started to back up.
Forward. Backward. Forward. Backward.
Like some sort of dance.
Only there was no music.
"OW!" Wench hit her head on the wall.
Jack put his face inches from hers.
She held her finger up. "Keep up the attitude, Jack, and I'll take my maiden name back."
"You do and you will bunk with the rest of the women on your crew."
She said flippantly, "What's the matter, Jack? You refuse to live in sin?"

That brought uproarious laughter from Jack. "Oh, that's rich! I seem to remember that is how we got married!"
She retorted, "We got married because you plied me with too much whiskey and rum."
Jack couldn't stop laughing. "Oh, that may have contributed to my momentary lack of judgment. But I seem to recall your exact words. We were going at it pretty heavily when you said, 'Not until we are properly wed.'
What was I supposed to do?"
"You could have controlled your bodily urges, you know!"
Jack put both hands on the wall on either side of her head and leaned in. His lips were dangerously close to hers.
"May as well stop a cannonball, love."

Wench's face flamed hot at the memory of that night and waking up to a marriage license on the dresser.
She ducked down and then flung over her shoulder, "Yeah, well, you're paying for that privilege now!"
Jack yelled back at her, "And some mistakes you never stop paying for."

But all he heard was the slam of the door.
Yeah, she was good at that, as he well remembered. He checked his door hinges and then said to no one, "I'll add it to her expense list. One set of door hinges."
And off he went in search of Briggs to amend his 'to do' list.

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Offline Welsh Wench

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« Reply #31 on: May 19, 2008, 09:15:28 PM »
Reply author: Blackjack Roberts
Replied on: 02/03/2008 22:24:40

After Lil had left to discard the soiled bandages Duckie returned to check on the condition of his charges. Elinor slept soundly and soon he expected more wounded to be filtering down in need of attention. As he bent over him Blackjack suddenly awoke with a start, and the surgeon found a razor pressed to his throat just hard enough for there to be no doubt as to the bearer’s intent, but not enough to break the skin. The look in Jack’s eyes was one of both pain and confusion as it was obvious that the pirate was desperately trying to sort out his situation, and taking no chances after being nearly killed.

The man’s confusion made this a far more dangerous situation and Dr. Gander knew he had to diffuse the situation quickly. “If you plan on giving me a shave I suggest you allow me to lather up first. However, if you plan on cutting my throat I would suggest you aim for the carotid artery.” He said calmly.

Blackjack’s brow furrowed for a second, then he lowered his formerly hidden weapon and smiled as best he could. “Sorry about that, Mate. Thinking you’ve been killed tends to make you a bit jumpy.” He slid the razor back into it’s hiding place behind his wide black leather belt. “Again, my apologies. You be the sawbones what fixed me up?”

“Actually it was your crewmate, Lil that preformed the stitching. I merely instructed.” Duckie scowled. “And please drop the dumb pirate act with me, Roberts. I am not that easily fooled.”

Blackjack sat up far too quickly than was good for him and he swooned a bit from the throbbing it set off in his skull. “Don’t know what your talkin’ about, Sawbones.” He gritted his teeth against the near blinding agony. “But I’d say about now I’ve more than wore out me welcome yet again, and I’ll be seein’ if I can find a way to slip off this barge afore I find meself walkin’ the plank.”

“Running again, Highwayman?” Duckie’s comment brought Jack to a dead halt at the door. Slowly he turned around to find the ship’s doctor sitting at his desk pouring two tankards of rum. He held one out to his patient. “Here this may help with the headache I would say you have.”

Jack made no move to accept the doctor’s offer. “And just how would you know that about me, Sir?” He replied dropping his act, a dangerous edge tinting his voice.

“Take this, and don’t be a fool!” Duckie commanded sharply. “If I had wanted you dead I could have done it while you were unconscious. I’m certainly not trying to poison you now. And sit down before you fall down.”

Jack took the offered tankard and the advice sitting on the edge of the cot he had lain on a few moments before. “My gratitude, Surgeon, but that still begs to answer my original question. How do you know of me?”

“I studied at Oxford and still have more than a few friends there.” Drake replied. “Did you honestly think that anyone who would put a wolf in sheep’s clothing like Lord Terrance Blackwood in his place would go unnoticed by others of the nobility? Especially when it was done by the most notorious highwayman since Robin of the Hood; Black Jack Roberts?”

Drake laughed at the confusion that leapt into Blackjack’s blue green eyes. “What did you think all we do at college is study dusty old tombs? There is a small group of us who have known the truth about Sir Terrance for a long time. The man is a traitorous dog that will blow the roof off of Hell when he finally gets there. You did a noble deed taking Jenny Blackwood away from that monster.”

“For all the good it did her, Sir.” Blackjack stared at the bloodstained floor of the surgery. “Because of me she died far too young. It might just as well been my hand that did her in.”

“So that’s why you ran.” Duckie mused. “Not because you feared Blackwood, or the gallows, but because you blame yourself for her death.”

“Aye.” Blackjack responded miserably. “I could no longer stay in England being haunted by the memory of my failure to protect her and being branded as her murderer. As long as I can remain alive I have a chance. One day I will return and Sir Blackwood will get his chance to blow Hell’s roof off. I promised her that on her grave. I will kill that bastard slowly, when he least expects it.”

“Now if you will excuse me, My Good Man.” Jack said standing once again. “Unless I miss my guess I would say your Captain would just as soon have me off his vessel, and I would prefer to have a sporting chance to survive so that I may carry out my vow.” He had not taken three steps when the room began to spin. Jack turned to stare at the ship’s doctor, accusation written in his eyes.

“A little white lie, Black Jack.” Duckie said calmly as he moved to catch the swaying man and redeposit him on the cot. “A bit of laudanum in the rum. Your in no condition to be going anywhere. It would be a death sentence with the concussion you have. You need to rest and heal if you are to have a chance at your revenge. A chance to avenge my poor niece. I’ll do all I can to see you get that chance.”


Reply author: Lilaney
Replied on: 02/04/2008 11:25:23

Lil stood on the deck surrounded by men and their various minor wounds.
The late afternoon sky blew a nice warm breeze across the deck lifting her hair slightly from her shoulders as she worked.
"You'll be fine, it's a scratch." She said to the last man in the ranks.
The Pirate guffawed as he spat tobacco into the wound and began to bind it up with his shirt sleeve.
"Naw, when we get in port; it'll scar up nicely and it'll be pike wound what I got offa Brit that I ran thru with me blade!"
Lil chuckled at his lip.
"Nice detail, although, you might want to let the Doc look at it in a couple of days to see if it is puckering properly; a good scar still needs a doctor's touch."
The sea dog grabbed another rag to wrap up the bound arm and shuffled off.
Lil leaned back on her heels again and looked at the pile of bloody rags she had tied up in a sheet.
"Could clean'em, but, I think some are just a loss."
Two men headed for the rag pile, grabbing the lot, they began to walk off.
Lil marched after them.
"Hey! What are you two doing!?"
One turned his head to shout over his shoulder.
"Using'em on the dead, no use wasting fresh blood, makes the sharks circle faster."
Lil blanched slightly.
The other nodded his head at the comment, the three of them walked aft where several British Sailors were laid out in a row near the railing.
"Yeah, Sharks, we need something to wrap'em up with and I ain't wasting the good cloth on these buggers. They'll go to Davy Jones either way."
The malice in this man's voice was clear to Lil. Slowing her footing she looked over the few dead sailors from the El Lobo. She only counted five. Each one wrapped up tightly in clean white sheets, their bodies amidship as opposed to the Brits who were aft.
"Hey! Bird! You're a Doc, right? C'mere and check these Brits over will ya? Wanna make sure they are good and dead. If they ain't I'll be happy to make sure they are."
A tall, skinny, angry Pirate motioned for Lil to follow him. Lil passed by the bodies of the El Lobo crew, and caught up with the gent who yelled for her.
"You are not sure they are dead?"
She was slightly confused.
"Nah, we know they're dead, but, want to get an official word and since Duckie ain't around, you'll do."
This felt to Lil morbidly like a Pass and Review. She walked slowly by each body, the tall Pirate keeping in step with her and she nodded at each lifeless form.
Her vision was getting hazy as she passed the last one and turned to look at the Pirate to her right. He glanced sideways at her slightly.
"Ye ain't crying, are ye?"
Lil was wondering why everthing looked underwater.
Swiping her arm quickly over her face made the entire world come back into focus.
"Nope, forgot to blink. I can say with whatever authority I guess you think I have, that they are all ready for Davy Jones."
The tall Pirate gave her one last suspicious look and headed over to the other two gents who were starting to prepare this lot for a burial at sea.
Feeling slightly lightheaded Lil started back for the bow of the ship.
Hibernian was over the bodies of the El Lobo's crew as she passed, bowing slightly to him she walked by in silence.
Making her way back into the surgery, she got there just in time to grab the other side of a not-so concious Black Jack and help readjust him on the cot.
"Laudanum in the Rum?"
Duckie nodded solemly as Lil chuckled out of strained hysteria.
"Classic move. Got any more?"
Duckie made a wide gesture to show her the other tankard on his small desk in the corner.
Sidestepping the gent, she passed Elinor, who looked as if she was sleeping peacefully and grabbed for the tankard. Toasting the air in Duckie's general direction Lil took a slug and sat the mug back on the desk with a rather hearty thump.
"Needed that, thanks. Got a bit left to do in here and then I am for bed. Shouldn't you be along to make sure Wenchie hasn't skewered your Captain?"
Lil moved around Duckie who had taken up a post leaning against the cabinet between the two sleeping paitents. She grabbed the bucket and scrub brush in the corner, dunking the bucket into the rain barrel, she drew up half a bucket adding in some rather harsh smelling solvent she found near the bucket she walked back to the other side of the surgery and got to washing the floor.
"I like how this ship is made, angled on the sides so all the water runs to the walls and aft. Clever design."
Lil felt herself chattering nonstop, she kept on about the ship's build and design commenting on the rigging and the efficiency of space and sundries. The entire time Duckie just stood there in silence.
Lil was slighlty self concious of his presence. Which made her only talk faster, or was that the Rum and Laudanum? By the time she began to compare the aft cannons to some she had seen on a shipwreck of the isle of Ginger, she had made her way across the entire floor.
Dipping another bucket into the water she sloshed it around on the floor and using the reed-broom she swept the water to the walls, where is ran aft and out of the surgery.
Lil turned to put everything back in the corner; as she turned back around Duckie loomed over her. Making her step back and almost fall into the buckets.
His voice was soothing, he pressed a mug into her hands.
She sniffed the contents and then looked up at him questioningly. He smiled slightly.
"It's only water, no tricks. You did quite well today."
Lil took a tenative sip, searching for any trace of odor or odd taste. Finding nothing, she took a longer draw on the water and then handed back the empty cup to his waiting hand.
"Thanks, needed that. Tough day today. And it's not even over yet!"
Lil felt her voice rising to a higher octive. Damn her nerves! She felt herself getting emotional. Time to beat a retreat before the weakness took over and she was a blubbering mess on this nice clean floor.
"You need sleep. Find me in the morning and we'll make a round of all the injured. Savvy?"
Lil looked him dead in the eye for the first time.
The color was astounding, a strange deep blue-green. Her mind caught the one line he threw her.
"Did you just say 'Savvy'? Doesn't suit ya Doc, better stick to what you know. Agreed?"
Duckie backed out of her presence and allowed her to pass, she walked over to Elinor and gave her sleeping friend's hand a squeeze of courage. Turning and looking back at Duckie, she saw that the day had passed for him the same as it had passed for her. He seemed to recognize her look of slight pity and he mustered his face back into a passive look of indifference. Lil cocked an eyebrow at him and made her way to the door.
"Call me if you need me."
No answer came as she walked down the hall and to what was once Brigg's quarters, but, was now the women's lodging. Lil felt herself going light as she crawled into her hammock. Feeling the room start to spin, she laughed silently at Duckie as she slowly fell into a warm well of passive darkness.
"Idiot gave me belladonna, no taste, no smell. I'll get back at him in the morning."


Reply author: Mad Jack Wolfe
Replied on: 02/04/2008 20:54:52

After a while and several reports on injuries an damages, Jack heard the lilt of Honour's voice approaching the main deck.

"A word or two with you, Madame Captain, if you please?" Jack asked quietly as he leaned against the gunwale. The steam was almost visible wisping from his ears.
Honour decided that since there was no possibility of sashaying nonchalantly in broken boots, she'd retrieved her bodice dagger and slit the lacings on both boots. Better barefoot than hobbled, she thought. She sidled up to her husband and with a voice dripping honey, asked "Yes, darling? Is there something the matter?"

He turned to face her, eyes ablaze, when he suddenly realised that she was several inches shorter. He drew a breath and started again. "As a point of curiosity, are there other wanted criminals among your portion of our crew whose apprehension might involve, oh, say, a bleeding squadron of Royal Navy ships?!"

She thought for a moment and answered "No, I'm certain you're the only one."

"This isn't fun and games, Honour. Roberts was nearly killed before us all, a scene I'm certain you're tired of reliving; a perfectly serviceable ship is now in need of repairs, and you have that to deal with." Jack looked at the bag of sailcloth lying on the deck. "Best we can tell, he's part of your crew. Or was. Your crew, your responsibility. Seems fair. I'm sure Brother Timothy help you find some appropriate words. Oh, and the crew expect his effects auctioned before the mast at noon tomorrow."

"But, wait! Aren't you going to help me with all this? Where are you going?" she asked.

"I'm going to inspect damages to my vessel, Madame Captain. And after that, I'll most likely be sitting with Briggs and Duckie, getting drunk. Care to join us when you're done?"

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Offline Welsh Wench

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« Reply #32 on: May 19, 2008, 09:17:09 PM »
Reply author: Hibernian
Replied on: 02/04/2008 21:57:44

Sword in hand he stood quietly near the railing where the injured Elinor had been gathered up by Lil and Duckie and taken to the surgery. His mind streamed and to no one in particular “Odd name for a physician, Duckie; I wonder if he has webbing between his toes? Still doesn’t matter, Lil was there, Lil is good, Lil will take care of Elinor.”

“Comin’ your way friar!”
“Beggin’ your pardon Father, but we needs these bodies.”

The voice brought Brother Timothy’s attention back and for the first time took note of the two men asking for his attention. Two short pirates, one with a knuckle to his head, looked at the monk and gesturing at the numerous bodies lying about.
“If you’re done we’ll take these away for you. No disrespect, but I swears you don’t look like much of fighter, brown robe and all, but these eight bodies says otherwise, no disrespect meant sir.”
“Pax, no disrespect taken, it had to be done.” Reaching down and taking a scarf off one of the bodies he carefully wiped the blood from his sword before sheathing it.
“What’s the devil’s due today?”
“Not quite sure yet, only five of us,” and the sailor pointed toward the far railing, “ but still countin’ the English. Davey’s sharks will eat well tonight.” With that the two, now supervised by a taller man, started to move the dead English into rows.

As he walked across toward the five bodies he reached into his pouch and withdrew a small vial of water. Kneeling down next to the first he undercover the face and began to silently pray. When he was done the face was recovered and he moved to the next.

“Praying won’t help that lot.” A sailor, Timothy recognizes him from the “shark detail” now stood looking at him.
“I beg your pardon.”
“I said, me, them, us, we’re pirates; don’t believe; praying now won’t help them.”
“Perhaps, but it won’t hurt either.”

Turning back to the last body, in a voice loud enough for the pirate to hear...”Ipsis Domine, et omnibus in Christo quiescentibus, locum refrigerii,lucis et pacis,ut indulgeas, deprecamur, per eumdem Christum Dominum nostrum.”
“Whats that your saying, I don’t speak no church words.”
“It’s the ending of my prayer for them, as I beseech He who is above us all to grant them a place of refreshment,light and peace.”
“Heck don’t sound so bad, probably wasted on that lot though, I don’t suppose they serve rum in this land of refreshment?”
“I see no reason why not, nothing I have ever read says there isn’t rum. After all He did turn water into wine.”
“In that case, when my time comes, you do some beseeching and see if I can get some of that rum in heaven.”
“You have my promise, I will do my best to get you some rum in heaven.”

At that moment a shout from the tall pirate hurried the man on his job. Having completed his duty Brother Timothy turned toward the quarterdeck in search of the latest news and plans.


Reply author: Ice Mage
Replied on: 02/06/2008 21:18:08

*Upon arriving back in her cabin, Rose found Dorean packing their things. She walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. Shrugging her off, he returned to packing.*

'What’s wrong my love? Why are you packing? We still have a long road to go.'

*Dorean glanced back at her.*

-We are booking a ship back to Glenlivet, as soon as we hit the next port.-

*Rose seemed confused.*

'What about my son, we can’t just abandon him?'

-We won't! You will go on, an I will take our daughter home.-

*Frustrated she began to raise her voice.*

'I can't do this without you, and I will not part with any of my children!'

*Dorean slammed the lid on their foot locker, and spun around to look in her eye's.*

-You won't be alone! You will have that dirty S*n o* a B***h, to keep you warm.-

*Rose's face flushed, as she sought out a response to Dorean's comment.*

'Wha...wha... what are you talking about?'

*Infuriated, Dorean chucked a glass goblet against the wall. As it shattered he began yelling.*


*Rose collapsed to the floor in tears.*

'It was an accident, I only kissed him!'

-So was the groping an accident too, or merely a benefit?-

*Rose continued to cry on the floor, begging Dorean to forgive her.*

'Please listen to me. We both realized it was a mistake, it will never happen again!'

-Why? Has he run out of money for his little whore, or it time for me to get his leavings once again?-

*Rose stood up and a flash of anger crossed her face.*

'It was not like that! Nothing happened!'

*Dorean headed to the door, and briefly spoke as he exited.*

-Yeah I’ll bet!-

*After Dorean Exited the room, Rose began weeping once more.*

'How could I have been so stupid? How can I make him understand?'

*Dorean stormed down the corridor towards the Captains Cabin, just as Daemon came down the stairs. They stopped for a moment and looked at each other. As Dorean was just about to draw his sword and dash at Daemon, an explosion occurred between them. Pieces of deck plate, bulkhead and fire flew in the air.*


Reply author: Blackjack Roberts
Replied on: 02/07/2008 20:13:20

Blackjack’s eyes opened for a second time on the world of the living after thinking himself dead. This time no stranger was leaning over him, and the surgery was dark, save for a single oil lantern gently swaying on it’s hook against the far wall, the wick turned as low as it could be for a faint ghostly light.

Without moving a muscle to give away the fact that he was awake he scanned as much of the room as he could. As near as he could tell with the exception of the softly sleeping Elinor he was alone. Slowly he sat up, his hand instinctively hooking a thumb under his belt to access the hidden razor. Now that was interesting. The razor was still in it’s sheath. Shouldn’t the surgeon have taken it? He certainly knew about it.

“Damn!” Jack thought. “Is everyone I meet today hell bent on trying to kill me? I swear I seem to be capable of wearing out my welcome faster than a poxed tavern wench!” At least this time his head didn’t throb as badly as it did before. The only order of business left was to find his effects and get off the Lobo before the captain decided to have a go at it for all the trouble he’d been put through. Third time could be the charm and Blackjack wasn’t about to tempt fate that hard.

The last thing he could remember was Duckie saying something about a little white lie, and then blackness. At least his luck was still holding there. So far he had been shot, then poisoned and he had yet to join Jenny. Not that he would mind, but he would prefer to tell her that her husband was providing the devil with sport first.

Everything seemed to be working until he stood. The combination of his concussion and the fast fading laudanum caused his head to swim. Then his stomach turned and he went to his hands and knees beside the cot with a violent case of dry heaves. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted them. His hat and weapons were neatly placed into a pile under the foot of the low bed. It seemed Lady Luck had not totally abandoned him yet, someone had thought to bring his belongings here. Possibly Captain Wench she seemed to like him. Blackjack was going to miss that spunky lass for sure.

As quietly and quickly as he could he donned his baldric and shoved the twin French flintlocks into place behind his belt. Coiling Old Hob he fastened the frog around the supple braided leather and patted the bullwhip like a lost pet. “Good to have ye back, Old Chum.” Jack whispered. “Should have took ye when I went after Dagget. It would have saved me a headache.”

Reaching up he felt the bandage on his head. It was dry which meant Lil had done an exceptional job stitching him up. No time to look for the head scarf, so he replaced his cavalier’s hat over his bare head and did his best to adjust it to hide the white bandage. If only the bloody room would quit spinning so often. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. The pitch and roll of the ship was one thing, having the floor trying to replace the ceiling was quite another.

His eyes snapped open, someone was coming into the room. There was nothing to be done for it now. Quietly He pulled his rapier, then filled his other hand with the bullwhip. Wench entered quickly keeping an eye to the hall, and quietly closed the door. Turning to the room she saw Jack.

“Now that’s not a proper greeting.” She tapped one foot in front of her, and placed her hands on her hips. “Just where do you think your going, Mr. Roberts? Your supposed to be resting!”


Reply author: Welsh Wench
Replied on: 02/07/2008 20:26:13

Black Jack Roberts said quietly, "I was going to try to seek employment elsewhere before I was asked to quit. But it seems I had a momentary lapse of consciousness."
Wench walked over and held her hand out. "I'll be taking that piece of fine steel, Jack. And the whip."
He clutched them tighter. "I say they be staying with me."
Jack sat back down and said, "I guess I feel a bit light-headed. Must be low blood sugar."
"Or lack of blood."
She picked up his feet and threw them back on the bed. Then she gently pushed his shoulders down.
"Why, Captain Wench! Do you think this is wise? With your husband so close by?"
She laughed and said, "My husband has not exercised his conjugal rights in some time. Besides, he would never kick a man when he was down. Only when he wasn't looking."

Wench sat on the edge of the bed and took Jack's boots off. He laid back and said, "Why, Captain Wench! I was thinking that my boots could end up under YOUR bed."
She laughed. "Aye. But I share the room with a co-captain and he's a light sleeper. What you really need right now, as opposed to a romp on the high seas, is a good deal of rest."

She walked over to Elinor who was sleeping soundly on the cot. Wench tucked the covers up over Elinor and pushed Elinor's hair out of her face.
"Oh, Elinor, forgive me for not being there to protect you."

Jack turned to Wench and said, "You really do care about your crew, don't you?"
She came over and sat back on the bed with Jack. "I certainly do. These people have stayed with me through thick and thin. They could have left when we were in Glen Livet. But they didn't. When we were ready to sail, they signed on again. Even Brother Timothy. OK, so he has a dog to find. Cade will take care of Amber."
Jack Roberts' ears perked up. "Cade? An unusual name."
Wench nodded. "Yes. Captain Cade Jennings."
"Friend of yours?"
"Sort of."
"Ah. Say no more."

Wench changed the subject. "Let me take a look at your head. After all, when you signed on with my crew, I am duty sworn to protect you."
"Even from you, Milady?"
Wench laughed and removed Jack's hat and put it on her own head. "You'll get this back in a moment. Oh...nice. Nice job Lilaney did. You, Jack Roberts, are one fortunate man. The angels smiled on their favorite son!"
She put the hat under the bed. "Everything will be safe here. No one is allowed in here but the captains, Duckie and Lilaney. And you can trust them."

She bent over and kissed Jack Roberts on the forehead. "Now get some rest. Seems I have an appointment to get drunk with my husband. He'd better have a stiff drink for me."
She lowered the oil lamp wick and covered Jack up with the blanket.
"I'll check on you later, luv."

Jack smiled in the dark as the door closed softly.
He said to himself, 'Cade Jennings. You sly dog! Taking her ship to lure her away from her husband. Well done, cousin. Well done.'

Show me your tan lines..and I'll show you mine!

I just want to be Layla.....

Offline Welsh Wench

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« Reply #33 on: May 19, 2008, 09:18:22 PM »
Reply author: Lilaney
Replied on: 02/08/2008 12:25:28

Lil sat straight up in her hammock just as the ship dipped and tossed her merrily sideways out of the canvas sling.
Smacking her hands rather roughly on the deck, she rolled and came up on her knees.
"Hurts every time, some day I gotta stop doing that."
As the ship settled back into an easy roll Lil shakily stood up, blinking in the darkness, adjusting her eyesight for the night. A single whale-oil lamp dimly lit the space.
Kate was sleeping soundly in what used to be Brigg's old bed, Elinor's pallet in the corner was unoccupied and the bed neatly made. The whole room was at rest, except Lil.
Something hade woken her straight out of a drugged dream. She listened hard.
Sighing and rubbing her sore head as the last of the tainted water faded from her view, she turned and headed silently out of the cabin, down the passage way and back into the surgery.
"Time for the night rounds" she mumbled, still feeling groggy she held a steadying hand against the bulkhead as she made her way into the room.
Quietly, she stuck her head in and saw two still bodies where she left them.
'Wonder who took off his boots?' Lil thought as she silently entered the space. Shrugging and thinking Duckie must have finished up after her wobbly departure, she turned to her head wound victim first.
Not wanting to wake an injured Pirate, she knew how grumpy they could get if disturbed, she used what dim light there was and assesed the damage. A tiny almost insignificant spot of blood was on the bandage.
'Hmmm' she thought to herself, he must have woken up at least once tonight. Nodding her satisfaction at him, she then moved to Elinor, who was stirring slightly.
"Shhh, rest now, write later" Lil whispered as she laid a cooling hand on Elinor's forehead.
She felt warm.
Frowning slightly, Lil went and dipped a small pot of water from the corner, quietly she mixed in three drops of rose water and returned back to her friend's side. Gently wiping a cloth over Elinor's forehead, she saw Elinor start to relax a bit, her face still in a stern frown.
Lil sat the water on the floor and got a three legged stool to place near Elinor's head.
Scooting it as close as she could, Lil picked the water back up and began to observe her friend. She looked overhead and prayed to the heavens.
"Please let this be a sniffle."


Reply author: Elinor Hakebourne
Replied on: 02/08/2008 15:36:12

As the night waned, and most were sleeping in their beds, those passing by Dr. Gander's surgery would have perceived both patients to be sleeping peacefully. Anyone, save Dr. Gander himself, or Lilaney who now sat beside her friend as she lay sleeping. The fever she felt upon Elinor's forehead told her that all was not as well as it should be, as did the frown upon the young scribe's face.

As Lil sat beside her and hoped that her ailments were minimal, Elinor dreamed. Not dreams of balls and mice and pumpkins, but dreams that seemed ripped from her life and fashioned into frightening, confusing monstrosities that blurred the lines of reality and fiction.

"You have people here who care about you, and were worried when you had gone with little word," he said, "Can you say the same of your shipmates?"

Yes! She wanted to say, but she found she couldn't, words escaping her. The kind, playful face of her fiancee retained its happiness, twisting it to now sport a malicious grin, "What will your captain do when she finds that you're no longer of use to her as a scribe, that you can hardly grip your quill? And when you do, you make a scrawl not fit for the most foolhardy of men, utterly unintelligible and not suitable for the logs of any ship?"

"She--she wouldn't!" She blurted out, but her words seemed lost to him as they stood on the road in Glenlivet where she had left him. The grin never left his face. "What will you do when you come back, having failed in your grand plans, to find I am no longer waiting for you like the dutiful friend I've always been?" And suddenly, Elinor found herself far away from him, unable to reach him. As she gazed, she saw an elegant woman, dressed in a beautiful gown of dark blue, her long brown hair delicately arranged with flowers, striding up to him. He took her in his arms. She smiled triumphantly at Elinor. "Finally," Luke exclaimed. "A woman who cares enough to stay with me, and not stupidly join a crew where she gets shot because she hasn't enough skill or luck to protect her!" He smiled at the foreign girl, and they kissed. To Elinor's dismay, the kiss didn't seem to end, but seemed to perpetuate forever, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't look away from the sight. "Luke!" She cried.

"I could transcribe for you," a voice said behind her.

Elinor swiveled around and saw the figure of Julian standing there, assuming the same haughty posture and attitude he'd taken when they'd first met. "But I doubt it'd help. Once you're off this ship, I'll go my way and you'll go yours. Do you think that you'll still be wanted by your crew? You can't defend yourself, and your crewmates can't keep making up for your failures," he continued.

Suddenly she and Julian were on board the El Lobo, and he was glancing at the parchment that contained the new pages of the ship's logs as she held them, folded in her grasp. "I suppose I can work with this for the time being," he remarked, grabbing the pages hastily and unfolding them, glancing at their contents. "Though your sense of continuity is quite absent, I'm sure you're glad that no one else looks at these, aren't you?"

"Brother Timothy has--" Elinor began.

"But not in great detail, has he? Anyone with any skill in this art would be very disappointed. It's interesting anyone on your crew tolerates you," he mused.

"They don't just tolerate me, at least, I don't think--"

"Nevermind, I'll spend some time neatening your work up, and then we can move forward, is that satisfactory?" Julian asked. "It shouldn't take but a few weeks," he added nonchalantly.

"A few weeks?" Elinor's eyes bulged. "I thought I did a serviceable job with this--"

"And it is good I am here to set you right," Julian finished calmly. "But you'll have to not stand in the light, Elinor, I cannot do this work if you're blocking the light!"

Elinor whirled around again. "But I'm not--"

"Your shadow," Julian calmly replied. Elinor moved, so her shadow was not blocking the sunlight that she now noticed was present. No matter where she stepped, however, the sunlight seemed to follow, persistantly creating a shadow over Julian's work.

"Elinor!" Julian said sharply from his position, "Your scrawl is unintelligible as it is! Stop blocking the light!"

"I'm trying!" Elinor exclaimed, her eyes flooding with tears.

"I have too many things to do, to be concerned about you," a voice reached her ears, a familiar, usually friendly voice. Elinor now found herself in the surgery, being lifted off her cot and and brought back out onto the main deck, which was now draped in night. "Captain Wench told me to tell you you're too much to deal with. Goodbye." And with that, Lil grabbed Elinor by the waist and dangled her out the side of the ship.

"You know how to swim, don't you?" But now the figure holding her dangerously off the side of the ship was Luke, smiling playfully at her from when they were younger. No, now it was Dr. Gander. "I am glad that you are feeling better," he said, smiling. "Now I must tend to the other wounded," he replied, and released his grasp. "No, please!" Elinor cried, but, once again, her words were lost as she fell downwards to the sea below. As the deck of the El Lobo became hidden from her sight, she screamed.


Who would be calling for her? No one was around, at least, not that she could see. The water enveloped her as soon as she hit it, wrapping her in a coldness that made her heart thump fast in her chest. "ELINOR!" The hiss was louder now. She looked around, searching for it, and found her right shoulder being grabbed gently, shaking her.

"You'll wake the whole ship screaming like that!" Lil hissed, a statement that seemed to pull her reluctantly from the world of dreams back into the real world. Her eyes sprang open, searching around wildly. She made to sit up, but found her left shoulder immobile with the injury she'd sustained that day. "I'm not in the water?" She asked, confused. She glanced at her position laying on top of a cot in Dr. Gander's surgery and her eyes flitted towards the door. "I'm still on the ship?" She asked. "I'm so cold..."

Then she noticed Lilaney sitting beside her, a cloth in her hand. "You're not going to t-throw me overboard are you?" She asked, her eyes truly filling up with tears. She did her best to shrink away from her friend, fearing for her life as the nightmarish dreams she'd just had refused to fade away. Her heart was beating fast, and her face was hot. She had to stop momentarily to catch her breath. "C-Captain Wench will still want me on her crew even with my injury, right?" she asked Lil in a small voice.

"Not if you keep making that kind of noise, she won't," said a voice from the doorway. Elinor's eyes flicked toward the door once more and her eyes grew wide with fear. Captain Wench stood in the doorway.


Reply author: Blackjack Roberts
Replied on: 02/08/2008 18:17:15

Honor walked into the surgery, the concern on her face belying her glib manner. “How is she, Lil?” She whispered.

“She says she’s cold, but you can see and feel for yourself, she’s burning up.” Lil whispered back. “She’s having delirious dreams in the bargain.”

“Thugee.” Blackjack’s voice brought them all about to find him setting up once again on the edge of the cot, pulling his boots on.

“What was that, Mr. Roberts?” Dr. Gander demanded, scowling to see the buccaneer determined to defy his orders to rest.

“Did any see the bastard what shot her?” Jack responded once again rising unsteadily to his feet.

“Blackjack! Lay down this instant! That is an order!” Wench was livid. It was enough she had to deal with Eleanor’s turn for the worse, she certainly was not prepared to watch the newest member of her crew commit suicide.

“As you wish, Malady.” Jack sat back down, but made no move to lay back down. “Now would someone please answer my question? The lass’s life may depend on the answer!”

“No!” Lil spoke up. “No one saw who the shot came from. Are ye daft? All hell was blazing away up there, but I think it came from where you and Captain Wench were fighting on the frigate.”

“That’s what I thought.” Blackjack squeezed his eyes shut against the throbbing in his skull. “Odds are it came from one of Dagget’s lackeys.”

“And just what would that have to do with it?” Duckie asked, curious.

“Ever notice that Malcolm’s men are for the most part dark skinned, and do not speak?” Jack continued fighting to think against the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him. “That’s because they are Punjabi Thugee. A cult of religious murderers from India.”

“God’s Teeth!” Duckie cursed. “I thought that’s what you said.”

“Figures you would know of them, Sawbones.” Jack chuckled as he gave in and lay back down on the cot. “Odds are that musket ball was poisoned with their special brand. If so I may have a solution. In the bottom of my sea bag there’s a little rosewood box. Don’t ask how I got it. Inside are three small bottles. It’s the antidote. I intended to fetch it myself, but I don’t think I’ll be doing that right now.”

“I know where it is.” Captain Wench exclaimed as she ran out of the door. “I’ll be right back.”

“What about yourself, Jack?” Duckie asked feeling Jacks head for any sign of fever. “You were shot from the other ship before it left.”

Blackjack laughed. “No worries there, Sawbones. Malcolm won’t let one of his dogs do me in if he can help it. He wants that pleasure for himself, and he’s too confident in his own abilities to think otherwise. Now if you’ll excuse me, I do believe I’m going to take a bit of a nap.”

Show me your tan lines..and I'll show you mine!

I just want to be Layla.....

Offline Welsh Wench

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« Reply #34 on: May 19, 2008, 09:19:34 PM »
Reply author: Welsh Wench
Replied on: 02/09/2008 21:12:59

Wench came back with the bottles.
"Which one is it, Jack? Before you drift off."
Blackjack turned his head towards Wench's voice and said, "They are all the same. I stocked up. Give her a few drops under her tongue and then pour some on the wound."
Wench handed it to Lil. Removing the bandage, she did just as Blackjack had told them.
"Now we wait."

Elinor, in her delirium, clutched Wench's hand and pleaded, "Please! You won't feed me to the sharks, will you? I promise I'll be good. I'll learn to write all over again, Captain! I'm not useless. Please! Please!"
Wench's eyes filled with tears at the desperation in her young crewmate's voice.
She gently pushed the hair out of Elinor's eyes and smiled at her with affection.
"Elinor, dear, I'd never do that! You are like a little sister to me."
She held Elinor's hand and felt the dry heat coming off them.
She turned to Duckie and said viciously, "Do something! DO SOMETHING!"
Duckie said, "All we can do is wait. I only pray we are not too late."
Wench shook her head and looked to Lilaney.
"I won't allow it. I won't allow Elinor to die. I forbid it. Do you hear me? I FORBID IT!"

Lilaney said sternly, "Wench, you are getting yourself all upset. Just like you did when Daemon Vardus blew himself up. You even threatened us with a sword if Daemon died. And Martin had to take you in a headlock and drag you up on deck and then he doused you with that 55-gallon drum of water."
Wench winced at that memory.
"Ruined a good pair of suede boots, too. Alright, Lil, I'll stay calm. For Elinor."
Elinor's teeth chattered and she was shivering but her skin was burning hot.
Wench and Lil took turns washing her face off to cool her down.

Wench walked over to Black Jack and adjusted the blankets, covering him up. Through sleep-laden eyes, he mumbled, "You know, Captain, you are beginning to look like an angel...."
Wench said, "What? OH! That! Well, that's the light in back of me. The sun is starting to go down and gives me that Lady Madonna look. Believe me, in front of that light beats the heart of a fallen angel. If you could see my halo, you'd see it was dented."
Blackjack smiled and took her hand.
"I thank you for all you have done."
She touched his cheek and said, "It works both ways, Jack. You put Jonas Corwin in his place and you saved my life earlier today."
He squeezed her hand and said, "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship!"
She laughed and said, "Some day, some one is going to say that in the future as the standard for unlikely relationships!"

"Captain! Come quick!" Lilaney shouted.
Wench hurried over, fear on her face.
"Is she...is she...." Wench could feel the tears welling up in her eyes.
"Yes, she is."
Wench could hardly whisper, "She's...gone?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Her face. It's clammy and grey."
Lil grinned, "Her fever broke! She's breathing normally! Wench, she's going to be alright, thanks to Black Jack Roberts!"
Wench and Lil both wiped tears of joy from their faces.
Jack Roberts closed his eyes and said, "Thank God I was right!"
Wench touched his hand and said softly, "I can never repay you, Jack. You saved her."
He squeezed her hand and said, "I think we are even, Wenchie."
She smiled at the name he called her and then she said, "I have to tell Jack and Briggs."

She went up to the nautical map room. There Jack and Briggs had a bottle of Jamaican rum and were sitting there with their pipes.
Wench came in and sat down.
"Elinor is going to be alright. The fever broke."
Then she burst out crying.
"I need a drink. Several of them. Hell, I need the whole damn bottle!"


Reply author: Mad Jack Wolfe
Replied on: 02/09/2008 23:21:19

Briggs fetched another cup, which Jack promptly filled. Honour took it and gulped down the dark liquor.

"More," she coughed, and the tears started again.

"Better fetch another bottle or two, Josiah. This could be a long night."

"Aye, and a few kerchiefs," Briggs said as he left the room.

"Which was worse, darling?" Jack asked her as he filled her cup again.

"Worse? I don't follow."

"This little tiff today, or the Mercedes? Which was worse?"

Honour dabbed her eyes and drank a little more rum. "I don't know... Why are you bringing Mercedes up again, anyway?

"Let's call it 'professional curiosity'. Which experience was worse?"

She thought about the question for a moment, still not sure where his typical pretzel logic was going. "Well, the Mercedes incident was horrible. And you made it unbearable afterwards."

Briggs reentered the room with more rum and a pile of kerchiefs for Honour. "So, what have I missed?" he asked.

"Just Jack trying to see how angry he can make me."

Briggs sighed heavily and poured more rum in everyone's cups. He hoped they didn't notice him move the sugar bowl and salt cellar well out of Honour's reach.

"All right, now," Jack said. "Honour, my darling, you're... right. I have yet to thank you properly for saving my life that day. Now that that's taken care of..."

"What did you just say?" she asked incredulously.

"Something that will most likely drive us further away from an answer to my original question."

"Did you just apologize?"

"An apology wrapped in a thank you, drizzled with a bit of humility, yes. Why?"

"Mother and child. He did in front of a witness," Briggs whispered.

"Can this day possibly get any more confusing?!" She drained her cup, and the tears began again. Josiah tried to be helpful by filling her cup and offering a fresh kerchief.

"Which leads me back to my original question! Given the choice, which experience was worse?"

"This conversation," she said, then blew her nose and disposed of the soiled kerchief in Jack's cup.

"Humour me, and I promise your one answer will answer a thousand others."

She thought about both days; the guns, blades, and blood. She thought about Jack getting shot right before her eyes, and her desperate makeshift surgery to save his life. Then she thought about poor Elinor, and Roberts."

"Today," she answered flatly.


"Because before, I was only a small player, helping where I could. But today... people I'm supposed to watch over and care for nearly died. It was worse than thinking you were dead. I'm sorry, I know that's not the answer you were looking for..."

Jack plucked her kerchief from his cup and pour more for the both of them. "What you told me was exactly what I was looking for, love." He clinked his cup against hers. "It is indeed an honour to share a table and glass with you, Captain Wolfe."


Reply author: Hibernian
Replied on: 02/10/2008 23:04:03

The wind upon his face felt good and with the slight roll of the ship combined in an almost dreamlike state as he slowly recovered from the battle. It was always like this after a battle, the mind and body one minute frantically trying to respond to a thousand impulses and now it was an effort to keep his arms and legs from turning into pudding. The experience of the years has taught him this would soon past, but the advancement of the years has brought new aches and pains in places he never knew before.

Standing alone looking back over the Lobo's stern he watched the Pride engage and with the lowering of the English ensign capture the last frigate. "Good for you Guard'n now give a taste of the hell they've been giving us for past 100 years!" A muscle spasm in his back brought a low complaint followed by a heaven sent apology from his lips "Hey that hurt! I know, I know, you didn't have to kick me in the sore spot Lord, I shouldn't take pleasure in other's misfortunes as it were, but they deserve that one at least. Its about time the Irish got a bit of their own against the English."

His quiet time of reflection was suddenly interupted by the call of the watch to the sails and the Lobo's sudden shift in direction. Brother Timothy stood off and watched the helmsman wrestle the ship's wheel back under control before he approached "Helmsman, are we no longer on pursuit of the Knight Hammer?"
"You're a nosey one aren't you, what concern is it of yours, the Lobo heads where Capt'n Jack wants it to head."
"And where is it that Capt'n Jack fancies heading now?"
"None of your business where we're heading." Looking down his nose at the monk the helmsman continued "I imagine if you were meant to know you would know now wouldn't ya."

Cutting off the retort before it was spoken, Brother Timothy step over to the compass to observe the ship's current heading.
"Hey what are you doing, get away from there..." and as the helmsman tried to closed the lid of the compass case the monk's right hand connected with the back of the pirate's skull. Jumping quickly away the helmsman couldn't know of the long line of monastic novices and students he had just joined; all sharing the same experience of feeling the mighty hand of Timothy upon their crown.

"Never" Brother Timothy using his stern voice straight from the diaphram "do that again.It's one thing to play dumb, although I'm not sure it takes much effort on your part, and not answer simple questions. But do not attempt to get physical with me or in my way. That was a soft tap, it can get worse."

One hand on the wheel for the ship and one hand rubbing the growing goose egg on the back of his head he watched the monk step forward to the compass and pull out a small leather bound book. Carefully the ties around the book were undone and the monk leafed through as if looking for a specific page.

"Looking to say your prayers priest? Perhaps if you pray hard enough a voice of heaven will come down and announce where we're heading?"

"My friend you should tend to something you are familiar with such as your aching head and not religion, while it is true the monks of St. Brendan are known for their prayers, I am long past needing a breviary. You may not realize it but the founder of my Order was a great navigator and that tradition continues today, this small log contains copies of charts acquired over the years. Knowing where we were and the current heading will give me an idea of our new destination."

The charts within the log were too small for most details and meant for general use by the traveling brothers. Yet he did not like what he found, knowing their departure point, allowing for the battle and drifting, factor in the Lobo's current heading and he hoped he was wrong.

Even if only half the stories told were true, the Captain wouldn't be foolish enought to take this crew to that devil of an island. Carefully lacing the ties around the book the monk turned to go.

"So where do you think we're heading priest?"
"Exactly where you deserve to be, straight to hell."


Reply author: Welsh Wench
Replied on: 02/14/2008 20:45:38

"'Captain Wolfe. How strange that sounds. I mean, after all, there can only be one Captain Wolfe. I'm thinking of changing my name back to 'Bright'. But then again, they all know me as Captain Wench."
Briggs laughed. "I remember the night we met you. You even gave us the name as Honour Bright back then."
Wench took a deep drink of her rum. Lord, how it went down smooth after the first one....

She let out a little hiccup and then laughed softly.
Jack poured another cup and slid it towards her.
She held up her finger. "Ah, ah, ah...it won't work this time, Jack I am sa...sa..sav...I am wise as to what you are like. But that doesn't stop me from taking the rum you offer."

She took a deep drink of it and looked over her cup at her misplaced husband. He looked exactly the same as he did the day he sailed off. Co-incidently it was the next day that Cade sailed off. And she followed the day after that. She had to close the deal on the sugar plantation in Barbados. Too bad, Jack, that you reneged on your promise to give up the life of pyracy. And now ironically, I am sucked into it, she thought.

Jack raised his eyebrow and looked at her. "Why the cryptic smile, wifey?"
She leaned back in her chair. "Just thinking about how strange life is."

She looked out the bay windows over to the horizon and her mind thought back to the two weeks preceding her hasty departure from El Lobo del Mar.The battle with the Mercedes had taken its toll on the ship. Not to mention the fact that Jack was felled by a sniper in the Mercedes' rigging. Jack claimed he didn't see him because Wench had been hiding in a longboat and he was distracted when he saw her.
She remembered clearly how she had to dig the ball out of Jack's shoulder with a dagger. And how she tried to take care of him.
That seemed to be the turning point in their relationship.
Then Cade Jennings came to Bridgetown.
And that was when her marriage unraveled.

Jack had sailed off to meet Armand LaFourche about the location of a treasure.
Treasure. All for a treasure.
Jack couldn't see that their marriage was trashed. Cade was only a symptom, not the cause.
She thought back to Captain James Blake and how he helped her out. James did more for her at that time than anyone else and he was the keeper of her secret.
The secret.
The real reason why she left Captain Jack Wolfe.

"Where were you? You were a million miles away."
"I'm sorry. Did you say something?"
"I asked if you wanted a refill on your cup?"
She brought her attention back to Jack Wolfe and said a bit too brightly, "I can't see any reason why not, Captain Wolfe. Pour it. And keep them coming."

Reply author: Welsh Wench
Replied on: 02/15/2008 11:37:50

"Did we really drink that much rum?"
Wench up-ended the bottle and watched as a few drops fell into her cup.
Jack looked over and said, "Three dead soldiers laying on the floor, I guess we did."
He kicked the three bottles out of the way.

The sun was beginning to set. Jack offered Wench another cup and she said, "Alright. But this is the last one. I'm starting to get a headache."
She rubbed her temples. "Right...in...here. It's gone all the way down to my shoulders."
Briggs poured himself a cup. "Tension. The day has a way of lodging into your muscles. Plus you are getting old, Honour." He winked at Jack.
Wench grew indignant. "Speak for you and your old man Captain, Briggs. I'm at least fifteen years younger than you two!"

Jack stood behind her and put both his hands on her shoulders. He said, "Want a neck and shoulder massage?"
He dropped down to a whisper, "It always made you purr before."
She retorted, "That was Puddin' laying on the pillow. Don't give yourself credit where none is due."
He put his hands up. "Do you want it or don't you?"
She grabbed his hands from behind and put them on her shoulders.
"I didn't say I didn't want it now, did I?"

As Jack began to give her a neck massage, she closed her eyes.
"Mmm...you haven't lost your touch, Jack. Now where did you say we were headed?"
"La Ville du Traitre."
"Has to be an interesting story there. Care to tell me about it?"
Jack looked over at Briggs and said, "You want to do the honours, Josiah?"
Josiah Briggs laughed and said, "With pleasure. You know how I love to spin a good yarn, Jack...."

« Last Edit: May 19, 2008, 09:23:27 PM by Welsh Wench »
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Offline Welsh Wench

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« Reply #35 on: May 19, 2008, 09:22:32 PM »
Reply author: Mad Jack Wolfe
Replied on: 02/15/2008 11:40:42

The quartermaster topped off his cup, took a long sip, and let out a dramatic sigh. Briggs was in his idiom; the master storyteller was on stage.

"Only a day or so's sail from here," he intoned, "there be a forbiddin' island of jagged black rock called Île d'Enfer - Hell Island. The French chose it to build a prison to get rid of the very worst of the worst. Every murderer, swindler, scoudrel and pirate they could get their hands on was locked away in this massive prison they built right in the middle of a fortress. They gave the prison the name City of Traitors, La Ville du Traitre.

Now, the French, they knew that it would be only a matter time before some crew would have half a mind to attack the prison to spring their mates, so they ringed the entire island with batteries of cannons, coverin' every navigable approach. And it worked. At least for a while."

With all them guns protectin' 'em, well, those Frenchies got plenty complacent behind the walls of La Ville du Traitre, and the governor of that black rock was more than willin' to turn a blind eye to how the prisoners were bein' treated. Finally, the inmates had had enough of their sadistic gaolers. They rioted, and it weren't long before they had complete control of the fortress. They kept every approaching ship away as they set about stagin' drumhead trials, 'til every last one of the soldiers was hung by the neck and left to dry in the sun."

It's told that they had a special fate for the governor. Oh, no, they didn't let him go, nor throw him into the sea. They figured that he'd done such a good job overseein' the affairs of the island and it's inhabitants, that he ought to stay on and continue to watch over them. If ye take a close look at the flagpole atop the high tower, you'll see the good governor's skull dutifully at it's station watchin' everything that goes on."

The port is open only to those what fly the black flag. All others, well... lets just say they the welcome they get is warmer than they can handle."

Briggs took a drink and sat back, a self-satisfied smile on his face. "So, there be the tale of La Ville du Traitre."

Honour blinked, then looked up at Jack. "Remind why we're going to such a god-forsaken place?"

"Because, darling, we're pirates, they only welcome pirates, and we don't have to worry about the English."
"Are there boutiques?"
"Shoe stores?"
"Gourmet foods?"
"Day spas?"
"No wonder they call it 'Hell Island'."
"It's not that bad, really -"
"We're going to an island that has absolutely nothing worthwhile on it? I have a pair of boots that need repair!"
"I'll tell you what; next port, I'll buy you a new pair," Jack offered.
"A new pair?"
"A better pair."

Honour considered the offer as she drank her rum. "Two pair. And a hat."
"Done,"sighed Jack.


Reply author: Blackjack Roberts
Replied on: 02/17/2008 07:45:03

Blackjack lay back on the cot, his arms folded behind his head. As long as he lay back his head didn’t throb as badly as when he tried to stand. He owed Malcolm for this headache and intended to collect with interest as soon as he crossed paths with the dog again. There was also his current situation to consider. He had to reveal more of himself than he had intended to save the scribe’s life. That the decision was worth it, there was no doubt, but the doctor was far more knowledgeable than Jack was comfortable with.

True, Duckie had not taken the razor from it’s hiding place and that was encouraging, but had he searched while Jack was unconscious? Did he know about the other, more exotic weapons Jack kept hidden? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Most of them would not be recognized as weapons by the larger part of the populace and they had been instrumental in aiding his besting of Dagget on several occasions over the years.

Jack’s mentor’s had taught him well, and one of their first rules was secrecy beyond all else. His own training under their tutelage, although no where near the level of skill they themselves possessed, was the key he needed for the destruction of Terrance Blackwood. He had spent the years since leaving England seeking them out in the darkest, most dangerous corners of the Earth. Each success another step toward his goal.

As the Sawbones had correctly guessed he did not care if he lived or died, only that he could send that noble son of a pig to Hades first. Or at least take the bastard with him. Blackwood may be above the law, but that wouldn’t put him above paying for his crimes. Not if Jack had anything to say about it.

“Think nothing of it, Lass.” He had grinned. “I’ve more than enough wealth, and should the need arise I can always lay my hands on quite a bit more.”

“You are of the nobility then?” She asked, and he noted the flash of fear that lit her deep brown eyes.

“Nay, Miss Kenward.” Jack laughed, relived to see the fear leave her as he spoke. “Just a successful man of business. I trade in gold and jewelry mostly.” He wondered why she would have a fear of the nobility. She was obviously high born herself, he had robbed far to many of her class not to recognize that about her.

“Again I must thank you for your assistance, Mr……?” She smiled genuinely for the first time, and Jack felt it to his very core.

“Roberts, Miss Kenward. Jack Roberts, at your service.” He lightly kissed the back of her soft fingers.

“Mr. Roberts.” Jenny continued to smile. “But I fear you may be in danger because of me. My Father’s men may return in greater numbers, and so I must leave here with haste. I may suggest you do the same.” She rose from the table to go.

“Well then,” Jack grinned rising to his own feet. “If we both should have to leave, would it not be wise for us to accompany each other for our own safety?”

For a moment Jenny Blackwood thought of refusing the offer. She knew nothing of this man and there was no telling what his true intentions were. Yet there was something in his blue green eyes, something in his deep voice that spoke to her inside. Though it was against her better judgment she found herself saying. “I think I would like that, Mr. Roberts, Thank you.”

Jack tossed several gold crowns onto the table. Holding Jenny’s cloak for her as she slipped back into it they then left the Crown and Scepter, his hand hovering protectively near the small of her back without touching her. Once outside they mounted their horses and turned to the west road.

“Where should we go from here, Mr. Roberts?” She asked.

“I’ve a small cottage near Birmingham, Miss Kenward.” He offered. “I live alone, and there is a spare room. I swear neither I, nor any other will touch you there, and it should prove to be the last place your father will think of to look for you.”


Reply author: Welsh Wench
Replied on: 02/19/2008 20:54:30

Wench stood up a little shakily. She immediately sat back down in her seat.
"You alright?" Jack asked.
She nodded.
Briggs replied, "Two of those bottles of rum were the ones you drank, Honour. Jack and I switched to Irish whisky a while back."
She folded her arms and laid her head on the navigational charts table.
"Why did you let me drink so much?"
Jack almost sprayed his whisky in Briggs' face.
"Since when did I ever have control over you?"
Wench shrugged. "Once upon a time I might have done what you wanted."
She stood again. "I'm going to the in--in--infir----infirmararymary. Have to check on my crew, doncha know?"
Jack slapped her on the rump when she turned around and said, "Ya you betcha!"
She fumbled around for her bodice dagger and when she couldn't find it, she leaned over to Jack and whispered, "Remind me to stab you later."

Wench made her way to the infirmary by holding onto the wall. She didn't dare let go of it so she kicked the door with her foot.
Duckie answered the door and burst out laughing. Wench had hit the opposite wall and slid down, sitting on the floor.
He chuckled as he grabbed her by the hand and hoisted her to her feet.
"Just like old times, eh, Honour? Jack plied you with Jamaican rum, didn't he?"
"Non--non--nonsense. I plied myself with it."
She tried to straighten her shirt and went to adjust her hat but it was not on her head. But a few of the feathers were stuck in her hair.
"You look like a plucked chicken. Shouldn't you be in bed?"
"Why, Doctor Gander, that's a very interesting invitation. But shh! Not in front of my crew. They lose respect for you if they think you are a floo---floo--floo..."
"A tart?"
She put her finger up and said, "Precisely!"

"Duckie, I need to check on my kids."
The doctor laughed. "This is your crew, Honour. Not your kids. Although I think you would make a wonderful, caring mother."
Wench ignored that comment and asked, "Can I see them?"
"Why not come back tomorrow, Honour? Black Jack Roberts saved Elinor's life and they are both sleeping."
She motioned Duckie closer and whispered in his ear, "Promise?"
"I promise you, Captain Wolfe Jr. They will be better tomorrow. And so will you."
"I'm ho-holding you to that, Duckie."
She then started to tear up.
"Yes, my little commander?"
"Jack is sending me to hell."
"Honour, I hardly think that the relationship you have with Jack will send you to eternal torment in fiery flames. Although if you hang around with Jack long enough, you just may end up there. As he always said, 'Better parties'".
She shook her head. "You don't understand. He is taking us to Le Ville de Traitre."
Duckie exploded, "Is he out of his mind? After what..."
"After what?"
"Never mind. Why don't you go to bed, Honour. And take this."
He handed her a package of powder.
"What is this?"
"Take it with water--NOT rum--and you just may ward off the headache that is heading your way."
Honour gave Duckie a kiss on the cheek and said, "Have I ever told you how much I adore you?"
"Yes, you have. But that is besides the point."
Honour paused at the door and asked, "Duckie?"
"Yes, darlin'?"
"What does one wear to a party in hell?"
"Oh. OK. I think I have a red dress for it."
"Yes, Duckie?"
"Go to bed. Good night."
She sighed and said, "You're the doctor."
As she walked out, Duckie heard her say to herself, 'Wonder what kind of boots you wear to a party in hell? And I have to get a new hat for it....'

Wench managed to find her way into the captain's quarters. She laughed when she saw the rope strung up and the sailcloth curtain down the middle of the bed. She threw her clothes in the corner of the room, crawled into bed and wrapped herself in the coverlet.
But visions of new hats, boots and hellish parties danced in her head.

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Offline Welsh Wench

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« Reply #36 on: May 19, 2008, 09:24:29 PM »
Reply author: Lilaney
Replied on: 02/20/2008 09:54:14

Duckie quietly shut the door to the surgery and leaned against the aged wood.
'Long day' he muttered; closing his eyes as the weariness of the day begin to set in.
Lil stood in the corner quietly observing the doctor.
He was no great hero, covered in all honor or glory.
But, to this crew he was prized for his knowledge and friendship. The trust that the Captain held for him, the respect this rough and scratchy crew gave him was an oddity on this, the high seas of adventure.
This puzzled Lil.
"Why are you here?"
Her statement in the quiet of the room surprised even herself.
Duckie did not move from his position, nor did he speak.
Nervous energy made Lil fidgety, and kept her moving while Duckie remained motionless.
Putting away supplies from changing Jack's bandage and cleaning up the area around Elinor's bed, rearranging this and that on the tops of the tables and cabinets while Lil's mind swirled with self-doubt.
It was a Cardinal Rule that one not ask a person why they had chosen the proffesion of Privateer, or Piracy. It was just rude, plus, one might not like the answer they received.
The silence of the room was deafening to Lil, she really could not stand quiet. That sort of situation always lent itself to mean danger.
"Why are you awake when I gave you enough sleeping powder to knock down an Arabian Stallion?"
The statement from so close behind Lil back made her freeze in her current task of rearranging the ink wells on the desk.
Turning slowly, she was relieved to see that Duckie had moved from his position of weariness to now leaning one hip against a cabinet, arms folded casualy,as he stared her down.
Lil felt a thrill of whimsy as she tilted her chin up slightly with pride.
"Because, Doc, I am immune to most standard poisons and potions. It also helps that I am about as similiar to an Arabian horse of either gender, as you are to the Duke of Buckingham."
The tiniest flicker of a smile passed his face before he reset his visage to one of cool calm.
"Be that as it may, you need sleep, just as much as your own dear Captain needs a nap."
"So sayeth the man for whom sleep shall take as he stands before me."
Lil quipped.
He raised a single eyebrow at her.
Lil had taken a similar pose as he had, leaning against the desk, arms folded as she stared him down.
His blues eyes to her brown.
"Touche, so we are agreed; it is sleep for the both of us. It looks like our patients will not be needing either of us for a few hours more and dawn will be upon us faster than one would like."
Lil nodded, but, did not move, neither did the doctor.
"So? Are you going to bed?"
Lil smiled a Cheshire grin.
"You first, Duckie."
Lil's smile faultered slightly.
Duckie nodded as ,finally, he moved to head out the door.
"That's my name. If we are to be working together you may call me by it."
His hand was on the door when Lil finally looked up from the floor where she stared, pondering.
"Sleep Well"
His face softened, and he gave her a true smile for the first time.
"Sweet Dreams, Lilaney."


Reply author: Blackjack Roberts
Replied on: 02/20/2008 21:54:42

Blackjack awoke with the first light streaming through the porthole into the surgery. Elinor slept still, but peacefully this time. He smiled. Thank God he had guessed correctly. Most likely the Thuggee had fired at Captain Wench after she brained Dagget and missed when Jack pulled her out of the way of that other back biting swine.

Now yet another safe haven had been ruined for him thanks to Malcolm’s ability to show up in his life at the worst possible moments. It certainly wasn’t the first time, but Jack knew he would regret this one more than the others. Still he could not deny that it was because of him that the ship had sustained so much damage, and worse of all another lass had almost lost her life. Perhaps it would be better for him to remain on the move, it would certainly be safer for all concerned. You would think he would know better by now, but damn it, even he grew tired of walking life alone sometimes.

If only Mad Jack would have done what Roberts had expected him to, and turned him over to Malcolm. Any other pirate captain wouldn’t have thought twice about it. He was beginning to see how the man had earned his name. Dagget would have happily sailed off with his prize without so much as a backward glance, just to satisfy his twisted sense of honor. Elinor would have been safe, happily recording the ship’s log, and many a good pirate would still be breathing as well.

“Yer a bloody Albatross is what ye are!!” Cade had shouted at him after the Tortuga incident, as they both threw buckets of water onto the deck fire.

“I told ye not to interfere, Cousin!” Jack shouted back throwing another bucket, and reaching for the next one. One of Malcolm’s lackeys had gotten off a fire grenade as they pulled away from the dock, a split second before Blackjack had put a pistol shot between the Thuggee’s eyes.

He had just escaped from the brig on Dagget’s sloop when Cade Jennings and the rest of the crew came flying down the dock fully armed, and intent on his rescue. The large crowd had not gone unnoticed and the alarm had been raised. A stealthy departure was out of the question now. Jack quickly released the wire he had slit the guard’s throat with and swung down to meet them.

“And what the Hell did ye expect me to do?” Cade shot back. “Leave you to the gallows back in England?”

They had almost made it back to Jennings’ ship when Malcolm had caught up with them. In the melee that followed on the dock Jack and Malcolm had engaged in a brutal sword fight that ended when Jack had disarmed Dagget by wrapping Old Hob around Malcolm’s blade to jerk it out of his hand, then sent several inches of his own rapier through the man’s shoulder. Cade had grabbed him before he could finish the job and they made a run for it as Malcolm’s reinforcements ran for their position.

“Regardless, Jack,” Cade said sadly as they finally got the fire out. “I’ll have you off this ship first port we make for repairs. As long as that maniac is after you my whole crew is at risk. God knows what he’ll try next.”

It was a scene that had been repeated a few times over the years, sometimes not quite as civilly. No matter how many times Malcolm had caused Blackjack to wear out his welcome he had never quite gotten use to it. Jack didn’t expect this time to be any different from the others. At least he had a few good times to add to the others in his memory.

He had just begun to wonder what port he would find himself wandering in this time, and how much of Sparrow’s purse was left to get by on when he heard the door begin to open. Quickly he shut his eyes, and pretended to still be asleep as Dr. Gander entered the room.


Reply author: Elinor Hakebourne
Replied on: 02/24/2008 13:49:30

The Sun was starting to announce its presence in the sky, letting warm light cover the entirety of the ship, when Julian noticed the ship's surgeon--or, one of them, at least--head back into the surgery. He thought about the patients that rested inside--one in particular--his mind traveling back to the events of the previous day. He remembered being unceremoniously ushered out of the surgery to let the young girl rest, and figured he had no reason or right to entertain the thought of checking up on her to see if she was well.

Seeing as his feet did not often follow reason or right, the scribe of the El Lobo found himself following Dr. Gander, striding into the surgery.

The pirate who had sustained the head wound was resting, as was Elinor. He paused to watch her sleeping, just in time to catch a grin spread across her face for a fleeting moment, the result of what he hoped was a happy dream.

Her bag was slung over a stool next to the cot on which she lay. That bag, he thought. He glanced at the splotches of blood that decorated it, mixing with the ink spills to create a bruised purple hue. She was not prepared to live this life, was she? Noticing him come out of the shadows and approach one of his patients, Dr. Gander gave him a cautious look which Julian answered with a shake of his head. He didn't intend to wake her.

Lifting the flap on the bag, he poked around inside. The glass of the broken inkwells tinkled softly as it was shifted around. The inside of the bag was even more of a mess than the outside. Despite the lack of light caused by his shadow, Julian could see the bag was dark with ink stains, stains that now covered most of the rest of the parchment Elinor had with her. I wonder how long she's had to deal with supplies in this condition? he thought. She should have taken his offer to store her ship logs in the barrel. At least they wouldn't have been ruined by the inkwells smashing once again. He sighed, shaking his head. "She should have known how to fight," he muttered softly.

From her cot, Elinor stirred slightly, slowly waking up from her deep sleep. Opening her eyes, she spotted him crouching down beside her bag, one hand still inside it. Her eyes widened, and then shifted into a glare, her brows furrowing. "Get away from my bag." The voice was firm and steady, a coldness creeping into it that he hadn't heard from her lips before. "I--just--" He stepped away from her bag, putting his hands up in surrender.

"I didn't know you fancy stealing from someone you thought you were better than." The words cut through the air as she spoke them.

"I wasn't stealing," he responded. "Just...inspecting." He blushed in embarrassment, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Preparing more jokes at my expense, more ways to elevate yourself above me? I don't need your help, I don't want your help, so you can take your offer of transcription and throw it overboard!" She exclaimed, attempting to sit up, and slowly doing so. "I can handle myself!" She finished, nearly spitting at him. He backed slowly away, looking frightened and confused. Where did that fire come from? he thought.

"Julian, I think it would be best if you departed," Dr. Gander replied cautiously. He gazed back at the surgeon, and moved to walk out of the surgery. He had not gone three paces when he stopped and turned back.

"I was not stealing," he muttered. "I only thought that since we're docking sometime soon, I'd take a look at your belongings, see what kind of supplies you had, in case they could be replenished when we got in port." He paused. "But, I see that you desire to work with inferior supplies alone, so I won't stop you."


Reply author: Elinor Hakebourne
Replied on: 02/26/2008 12:52:24

After having fallen asleep once more, Elinor's dreams were far better than they had been. Doubts about her life still lingered at the back of her mind, but they were kept at bay by other, happier thoughts.

Slowly, somewhat reluctantly, pulling herself out of her dreaming sleep, she opened her eyes, and the contentment she'd had vanished from her. Julian was crouched next to her bag, one hand inside it, a startled look upon his face as if he knew he was caught.

She found the words immediately, her voice cracking a little from little recent use. "Get away from my bag." She was surprised at how steady her voice seemed, how cold in tone it was. She'd rarely, if ever, used that tone with anyone. This time it's fitting, though she thought. How dare he?

"I--just--" Julian stepped away from her bag, putting his hands up in surrender.

"I didn't know you fancy stealing from someone you thought you were better than." The words cut through the air as she spoke them. I should have expected it, it isn't like he has been consistently nice. I should have known.

"I wasn't stealing," he responded. "Just...inspecting." He blushed in embarrassment, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Preparing more jokes at my expense, more ways to elevate yourself above me? I don't need your help, I don't want your help, so you can take your offer of transcription and throw it overboard!" She exclaimed, attempting to sit up, and slowly doing so. "I can handle myself!" She finished, nearly spitting at him.

She found herself attempting to clench her left fist again, out of instinct and anger, but she found she could barely move the fingers, they were so stiff. You just lied, didn't you? she said to herself, the words echoing in her head. You lied. You need his help. You can't handle this by yourself, not yet. Her eyes flooded with tears momentarily, and she looked away, to prevent Julian from seeing them.

"Julian, I think it would be best if you departed." She could hear Dr. Gander's voice behind her, calm and even. She could hear Julian's footsteps making the journey back towards the door to the surgery, and then they stopped.

"I was not stealing," he muttered. "I only thought that since we're docking sometime soon, I'd take a look at your belongings, see what kind of supplies you had, in case they could be replenished when we got in port." He paused. "But, I see that you desire to work with inferior supplies alone, so I won't stop you."

At this, she turned her head back towards him, blinking the tears of of her eyes and wiping them carelessly on her right sleeve. "That's quite a statement to make. That may be what I desire, but that isn't going to happen yet, and you know that. You know, as well as I do, that a scribe who can't grip her quill is useless. You certainly have a way with insults." Her gaze locked with his. "If we had stuck together in the fight, maybe I wouldn't be in this mess! Instead, you have a starring role in my nightmares, and come in here rifling through my bag, and offer help, then easily accept that I don't want it!" The tears filled up her eyes once again, and she realized absently that they were falling down her face. She didn't care.

"I know when to back down from a fight," Julian replied. "How else am I supposed to deal with you? You are as stubborn as a mule that refuses to move!"

"Deal with me? I didn't know I was someone who had to be dealt with!" Elinor exclaimed. She could feel her face getting hot. Was that fever, or anger?

"Julian!" Dr. Gander replied sharply. "I suggest you keep it to genial conversation, or you leave, as I suggested earlier. She has had a long night, she does not need more trouble now that the Sun has risen!"

Julian came forward, and spoke in a low voice. "I didn't know of your fighting skill, and knew that my crew members needed me in the battle that ensued. I left your side because I was needed elsewhere. Then I saw what happened to you, and I immediately regretted my actions. I've been at this life longer than you have, that is clear to me now. I wasn't even going to enter this room this morning, as I didn't think that I had a right to see you again. But, I wanted to know if you were allright. Last night I heard the commotion that occurred with the fever and the terrors, and I couldn't bear to think--" He paused, his mind calculating how to proceed. He spoke in an even lower voice. "I shouldn't have acted as I did, and I am sorry." He looked uncomfortable now, as if speaking for so long, so intimately, was not something he did--ever--and he looked for a moment as if he regretted his speech.

Elinor looked back at him, stunned. "I should leave," Julian replied. As he made to leave a second time, Elinor grabbed his hand. "Please, stay." He looked at her, confused, but nonetheless, did as he was asked.

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« Reply #37 on: May 19, 2008, 09:27:06 PM »
Reply author: Mad Jack Wolfe
Replied on: 02/27/2008 09:10:51

"... and that thieving snake Luttrelle is sure to gall us for every stick of oak he replaces. But all told, we've suffered worse," said Briggs. He drained his cup, and that's when he noticed Jack hadn't payed attention to a word he'd said. He thought for a second, then put his cup down with a bang.
Jack snapped out of his reverie. "What? Sorry, Josiah. My mind was elsewhere."
"And I'll lay hard money on where it was. Are ye gonna sit there starin' at the door all night? Might as well be done with it, says I. With that belly full of rum she's got, it ain't like she'll throw ye naked out of your own quarters for tryin'."
Jack thought about it for a moment, and a lecherous smile played across his face. "Impeccable logic, as usual," he agreed. The whole room seemed to rock and spin when he stood up, but thanks to plentiful experience he quickly regained his bearings. "Wish me luck," he said as he wobbled out the door.
"Oi, Jack!" Briggs called.
"Other way."

Before long, he was outside his cabin door. He was confident Honour had managed her way back, judging by the odd small feather he found here and there along the companionway. Quietly, he pushed the door open and slipped inside, and to his delight, Honour was already in bed. He scanned the room and spotted her clothed in a heap on the floor. Puddin' had already claimed it as his bed for the night.
"Very good," Jack thought to himself. Looking back at Honour he noticed an oddly wicked smile adorning her lips. His smile broadened when he noticed her bare shoulders.

No chemise.

He was sure the Powers had truly smiled on him. He made his way as stealthily as possible for a drunken pirate to a chair near her side of the bed. The left boot, then the right came off. He used his foot to slide them neatly under the bed, right where she'd be sure to see them. His two belts were a bit more problematic, but manageable. He froze when the clank of a heavy brass buckle made Honour stir, but she didn't wake up. The rest of his clothes came off in short order, and he climbed into his side of the bed. He paused to examine the sailcloth the carpenter had rigged to divide the bed in half. It was an ugly monstrosity, but like any barrier, it was a nothing more than a nuisance to Jack. All he had to do was lift it up and...

It wouldn't move. That snotty carpenter had lashed the bottom of the sailcloth fast to the bed. Undeterred, he felt under the edge of the mattress and found the knife he kept there. He felt around the bottom of the curtain near the headboard until he found the rope. The knife made quick work of the rope as he expected. What he didn't expect was Honour's hand grabbing his wrist. She pulled back the curtain, her nose only an inch or two from his.

"You're the one who always said no weapons in bed," she giggled.
Jack couldn't help but laugh as well. "You're right," he said, and tossed the knife behind him.
She looked at the curtain, then back at him. "Jack Wolfe, are you trying to get on my side of the bed?"
"The thought had crossed my mind, yes."
"We had an agreement," she said, waggling a finger at him. "Your side, my side."
"I was was trying to keep an open mind about things."
"Well, I know about you. You're not open in interested minds."
"I'm not what?"
"I meant 'interested in open minds'." She dissolved into giggles. "I'm drunk."
"See? We still have so much in common."
"I'm not going to fall for your... your charming act. And I know where your hand is."
"Who says I'm acting?"
"See? That was charming. Not falling for it. Nope."
"Um, yeah?"
"You're talking too much again."
She looked into his eyes, and that wicked smile reappeared. "Then find a way to shut me up," she whispered.

He kissed her gently, and she responded tentatively at first. But all the tension between them, that had been like a powderkeg kept too close to the fire, transformed into a hungry passion that overwhelmed them both. Their hearts raced, their bodies entwined...

And as fate would have it, the drunken lovers passed out within moments of each other.

The morning sun washed over the couple as they slept. Honour was the first to stir. She felt the warmth of his body against hers as she lay in his arms. She smiled and snuggled back against him as a feeling of satisfaction began to glow inside her.

Her eyes flew open. She looked around, wild eyed, realizing where she was. She lifted the covers and looked down at the arm that was wrapped around her. On his forefinger was a wolf signet ring. Then she peeked over the side of the bed.

There they were. Jack's boots.

Honour tried desperately to remember what had happened the night before. She remembered drinking with Jack and Briggs, getting undressed, and Jack being in bed with her. The kissing, the passion, the...

For the life of her she couldn't remember. Had they, or hadn't they?


Reply author: Martin Montgomery
Replied on: 02/27/2008 23:58:28

Martin slowly moved around his galley,banking the fire in the stove so it would be still burning in the morning,the pots,pans and dihes from the last meal could wait until his helpers came in to start breakfast. Removing his belt and hanging it on it's peg,he slipped his boots off then eased his bulk into his heavy duty hammock. Rubbing his eyes he thought back over the last day,starting with the running battle between the English ships,the "Lobo" and the the blessed ship of Brother Timothy's "Friends" called the "Pride". He had answered the call for battle by making his way to the chest under his hammock and arming himself with his pair of long daggers a boarding axe and his newest possesions,bought in Glen Livet, a brace of flintlock dueling pistols. Taking the weapons from their case he quickly loaded them and stuck them in his wide belt(no holster or scabbard was supplied with the set,as they were meant to be held until fired.) Clipping on the new pouch that held the pistols powder and shot on his belt as he made his way back to the deck,Martin spoke to himself aloud,"Not satisfied with the life of a traveling merchant! NOOOOOO! You had to Follow adventure! Sign on with this Female Captain who IS a snappy dresser but doesn't know the bow from the stern! Make friends with her motley CREW of LONERS! A Monk,A Female Doctor,A Battleing Scribe,A Sea-Going Highwayman, AND SIGN ON WITH A LONG LOST HUSBAND!! As he spoke the final sentence he burst out onto the deck ,which was now swarming with the fighting crew of the "Lobo"! Lines had been thrown and grappels dug deeply into the rails of both ships and Lord love them all the spirit of adventure swelled in Martin's breast and his pride for the joined crew made him smile widely. A seaman from the attacking english ship swung over on a line that was lashed to the crossmembers of the mast. He landed and drew two pistols ,discharging them even as he dashed towards the main deck,both of his shots hit but weren't instantly fatal one hit a young gunner in his shoulder and the other lodged in a sailers leg. The big man had stepped out from the shelter of the hatch and extended his right arm. The running man's face had went from bloodlust to surprise in the instant before his neck snapped from hitting Martin's forearm! His body fell, limp and lifeless,to the hardwood deck,the cook took the attacker's mismatched pistols,shoving them into his belt,behind his back. He also found and confiscated a full powder flask. The battle was a blur from then on and the hefty man had taken several wounds,none of them life threatening. The call had gone out to cut the ship's free and he had fought through to the rails just as a young boy took a fatal shot from an English seaman,who had paid with his life ,as Lil had decended from the sails like an avenging Valkyre.


Reply author: Martin Montgomery
Replied on: 02/29/2008 00:35:56

The firey tempered young woman swung down on a monkeyline that was tied off to the crossmember of the mainmast,her swing was so fast that she seemed to blur across the sky.Martin winced as Lil snatched a handfull of long hair from the English sailor that had just shot the unarmed "Lobo" powdermonkey. She used the extra velocity from her swing to yank the hapless sailor off of his feet and over the side! The cook listened for a splash but he was too far away too hear. Turning towards a chillingly loud scream that set his teeth on edge! A huge English sailor charged across the open deck with a heavy cutlass,already swinging forward,aimed for the burly cooks throat! Snatching the boarding axe from his wide belt Martin got it high enough to block the powerful blow,but lost the weapon from the kinetic energy transfered. Reaching out after the lost weapon with his numbed left hand,Martin's body half turned away from his attacker,who stood poised,weapon raised high,ready to seperate the "Lobo's" new cook from his head! The English sailor stepped forward and grinned "Let's us see what there stuffing inside pirates to make 'em so big!" As he spoke Martin saw the rotting stumps of the sailor's remaining teeth and felt his rank breath wash over him in a noxious cloud. Completing his unbalanced turn like a drunken ballerina,Martin drew,cocked and shoved the barrel of his right hand pistol deeply into the guts of his attacker! "Shut yer stinkin' piehole!!" He yelled as he pulled the trigger and blew the contents of "Rottenteeth's" stomach out the hole in his back! Rolling the lifeless hulk off of him Martin stood up,recovered his fallen axe then took the time to charge the three spent pistols and replace them in his belt,before working his way to the rails just in time to hear the call go up "Abandon the ship!! Back to the "Lobo!!" Tossing a couple of attacking sailors back over the rail and onto the deck of their own ship Martin drew his trusty axe and aimed at the helmsmen of the English ship. The cook's spinning axe flew straight and true,taking the helmsman in his chest and knocking the fataly wounded man to the deck. The man had wrenched the wheel hard to starboard which widend the gap between the two ships. Martin ,seeing that it's too far to use his pistols accurately started to gather the wounded "Lobo" crewmen on the main deck to await treatment by Lilaney or Dr Gander and tossing the wounded English overboard! He then set to laying out the men who were beyond suffering looking up as he heard the sharp crack of a large firearm and saw Blackjack Roberts fall to the "Lobo's" deck in a boneless heap,bright red blood staining the wood! The rest of the day passed in a mist of burials at sea,repairing the damaged ship,helping Lil care for the wounded and serving the despirited crew a fortified stew made of salted beef and good vegetables. Martin tried to visit Elinor,the wounded scribe,in the infirmary but Dr Gander warned against to many visitors so the big man checked hourly on her condition. When it improved,thanks to Mad Jack's knowledge of Thugee poisons,the Knight Hammer's crew breathed a collective sigh of relief. Still all in all,the crew found out that a nearby port that catered to the needs of "Enterprising ship's crews" or pirates was the next destination and not too many of the wounded were abed and not working their posts so the mood was slowly improving. So at this moment when his head hit his bedroll Martin was asleep and looking forward to the new adventures of the joined crew serving the Co-Captains Wolfe.

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« Reply #38 on: May 19, 2008, 09:28:26 PM »
Reply author: Elinor Hakebourne
Replied on: 02/29/2008 14:47:01

Even though she couldn't yet fully trust him, and even though she wouldn't admit it to his face--He doesn't deserve any more ego boosting, she thought--she craved companionship. Now that the day was here, the night having been forgotten--somewhat--she knew she wouldn't be as mobile as she'd like to be, due to her injury. That meant much time spent in the surgery, with mostly Dr. Gander for company. Lilaney wasn't up yet, and Elinor felt lonely at the prospect of no one but the El Lobo surgeon to talk to at present. Facing a day full of frustrating and unsuccessful attempts to return to her work, and facing the prospect of doing it relatively alone, she made the hasty decision to ask Julian to stay at her side.

Dr. Gander walked around behind Julian, bending down slightly to whisper in his ear. "If you rile her up again, you will not be allowed back in this surgery as long as she is in it." Julian nodded solemnly. His warning given, Dr. Gander walked away from the pair, attending to other work that needed to be done. "After last night's commotion, and having to regulate visitors to the surgery, it's good that things have calmed down a bit." He glanced at Julian, giving him a look that reinforced his earlier warning.

One part of Dr. Gander's last comment gave Elinor pause. "Regulating visitors?"

Dr. Gander waved the question away dismissively. "Oh, a man stopped by the surgery wanting to visit you last night. I didn't recognize him, I suppose he was a member of your crew. With all that had happened, and was happening, I decided it was best for you not to be disturbed and I sent him away."

"A man? Wanting to visit me?" Elinor's brows furrowed. "Who would--the man wouldn't have been of a large, intimidating stature, would he?" She asked him.

"Yes," Dr. Gander nonchalantly answered.

"How dare you?" Elinor replied. "Martin wanted to see me, and you wouldn't let him?"

"No, I wouldn't. You needed rest and still do--" He replied firmly, but wasn't given a chance to finish.

"So, I am allowed the company of a man I barely know, who only says he regretted leaving my side in the battle, and I am not allowed the company of a crew member I've known far longer and has proved himself a great ally and friend of mine?" Elinor spat.

"I thought you accepted my apology!" Julian exclaimed.

Rather than feel helpless, Elinor, placing her right hand upon the cot, swiveled her legs delicately around so they dangled off the cot, groaning in pain as she did so. She paused, allowing herself to relax for a moment and the pain to ebb away slightly before proceeding to land her feet firmly on the floor of the surgery, hoisting herself to standing position.

"What are you doing?" Julian asked.

"I am going to pay Martin a little visit, show him I'm all right," Elinor said matter of factly, looking at him as if this was exactly what she should be doing.

"He is most likely still sleeping," Julian protested.

"You should not be out of bed," Dr. Gander advised.

"I would do as Dr. Gander says, Elinor," said a voice from the doorway. "I don't want the crew to get any unsavory ideas about you." Elinor glanced at the door the surgery. Lil stood there, trying to hide a smile. Elinor glanced down. The left sleeve of her chemise was bloody and cut open, very near to falling off. If it wasn't for the bodice...

Elinor blushed in embarrassment. "I'd better get some new clothes, shouldn't I?"


Reply author: Lilaney
Replied on: 03/03/2008 11:19:35

"As a matter of fact, I have some clothes for you right here."
She brought the arm that was slightly behind her back around and held out a small pile of clothing.

Elinor's face lit up at the prospect of changing clothes and possibly visiting Martin in the galley.

Duckie's brows drew together in a look of concentration. He knew what the girl was thinking. And somehow he was going to have to convince her to stay put, for her own health.

Elinor tried to stand, against the doctor's warning, and was caught easily by the tall man next to her. Lil's eyes glared at the gent.
"Who are you?"

He looked only as old as a kid who had just descovered he could grow a beard, but, his eyes told the story of how old he really was.
"My name is Julian, and I am the scribe on this ship."
The look Elinor threw Lil told her he was alright and Lil backed down.
"Very well, well, go ahead and set her down and if you'll pardon the rudeness of my statement but, could all you gents bugger off, so Elinor can change in privacy?"

Duckie felt a small twitch of a smile, but, let it fall as he nodded and helped Blackjack out of the room. Julian hesitantly laid Elinor back on the cot and followed the others out, closing the door behind him.
Lil handed the clothes to Elinor.
"If you need help, just ask, I am going to straighten up the desk."
Elinor smiled and nodded as she began to clumsily unlace the bodice. Her quiet look of determination spoke volumes to Lil that helping her now would be a bad idea in the healing process. So, Lil moved to the Doctor's desk and began to put stoppers in ink pots and gather pens and paper. She saw a piece of paper that was covered in very fine writing.
.." the night was trying, with her in the surgery, but I can see why the Captain allowed this motely crew aboard"...
Lil stopped reading, mainly because the lines had gone blurry. It looked like water had mussed up a bit of the paper's edge.
"I'm through Lil."
Lil looked up and saw Elinor freshly dressed and trying to stand again.
She ran over to help her friend back on the cot, but, into a more comfortable sitting position.
"Doc's right, you know, you have to stay here."
"But, what about Martin?"
Lil smiled, "I'm sure the Doctor could not prevent Martin from bringing you breakfast, seeing as you are ordered to stay abed for the day. Would that suite?"
Elinor broke into a brilliant smile and nodded.
"That's settled then, I'll go tell Martin and you stay here."
Lil opened the door to see Julian hovering at the lintel and Duckie gone from sight.
"It's safe to come back in, but, please don't upset her." Lil asked of the man as he came back in and Lil walked out.
"Wonder where the Doc and Blackjack got off too?"
Lil made her way to the Galley to speak with Martin.


Reply author: Blackjack Roberts
Replied on: 03/03/2008 20:51:29

“I’ll make a deal with ya, Sawbones.” Blackjack spoke up once the door to the surgery closed behind them. “I’ve a need to get back to me bunk and insure me effects be in order. Ye can follow me there, an’ I’ll promise to rest in me own bunk.”

Drake looked suspiciously at the highwayman turned pirate for a few moments before answering. “I’ll agree, but only if I have your solemn word that you won’t attempt to jump ship. From all I’ve heard of you, despite your former profession, you have never broken your word yet. Besides, in your condition you wouldn’t last more than a few days alone on the sea.”

“Very well.” Jack steadied himself against the wall. “You have my word that until I see the lay of things with Jack Wolfe, I’ll not attempt to leave the ship.”

“Fair enough.” Duckie offered his arm to steady Blackjack as they made their way deeper into the bowls of the Lobo. Only slightly disappointed, as well as amused, that Jack ignored the offer, using the close walls for support.

Julian watched as they made their way down the hall slowly. “Either that one is the most stubborn man since the Captain, or for some reason he doesn’t fully trust Duckie.” He thought to himself. “Either way it should prove an interesting bit of work for Elinor and I. There’s more to that one than he lets on, I’d wager.”

Dr. Gander was lost in his own thoughts as he followed behind Blackjack who balanced himself by bracing both hands against either wall. Several times he had to move forward to try and catch him before he fell, only to find the action was unnecessary as the buccaneer caught himself, and paused for a moment to regain his composure.

“He doesn’t trust me.” Duckie thought to himself. “After the spiked rum, I can’t say I blame him, but it’s more than that. If I were a gambling man I’d be willing to wager that he hasn’t had much reason to trust anyone so far. I’d say Honor has seen more of the true Jack Roberts than any of us have, and doesn’t even realize it.”

Jack opened the door to the crew quarters set aside for Wench’s crew, and Duckie breathed a sigh of relief when Blackjack stumbled to the cot he had claimed and fell heavily into it. “There! I’ve made it here in one piece, and all without pukin’, so’s ye can be about yer business with the lass, Sawbones. She be needin’ ye mor’n I.”

In response Drake crossed his arms and leaned against the center post. “You don’t trust me, do you, Mr. Roberts?”

“Can’t see why I should, Doc.” Roberts eyed the surgeon steadily from the bunk. The throbbing in his skull the walk had set off making him a bit disagreeable. “Ye make a lousy tavern keep.”

“I didn’t try to poison you, Jack.” Duckie sighed. “If I hadn’t stopped you somehow, you would be dead now. Either shot by the watch, or drifting about in an open coffin with oars for the gulls to feast on.”

“So I stay here to have a drumhead trial and wind up food fer the sharks, governor of me own little sandbar,” Blackjack’s voice was laced with sarcasm, “or clapped in irons and bargained off to the first redcoat we meet in port. At the best I’ll find meself in another pirate’s den tryin’ ta survive long enough ta find another crew ta sign on with.”

“None of which will happen.” Duckie grinned. “At worse Captain Wolfe is curious as to why the English would send an entire fleet for one man.”

“Weren’t the English, Sawbones.” Jack closed his eyes for a moment as the pain lessened. “It had to be Blackwood. Either he called in a few favors to the Crown, or he outright purchased the use of the vessels to add credibility to any endeavor to take me. Probably thought it would make it easier to get the crew of whatever ship I was on to hand me over without a fight.”

“I would say that is exactly what Jack Wolfe wants to know, whether we are at war with England, or not.” Dr. Gander added thoughtfully. “He’ll be relieved to find out we’re not.”

“Tell me one thing, Jack.” Duckie switched gears. “What did happen the night Jenny Kenward died?”

Blackjack’s eyes snapped open. “How did you know that was the name she gave me the night we met?”

“I didn’t.” Duckie pulled a barrel next to Jack’s cot and sat down. “It was her maiden name. Her mother’s was Gander, My sister.”

“Then Jenny was…” Blackjack’s eyes widened.

“My niece.” Duckie finished. “I didn’t think you were conscious enough to hear me the last time. So you see I have a vested interest in keeping you alive and healthy. Now please answer my question.”

“Jenny and I had been together for almost two years.” Jack began softly all trace of the pirate accent leaving his voice. Duckie marveled at the difference, Roberts almost sounded like an English squire when not playing his role. “We had fallen in love, though I can not swear I did not love her from the moment I laid eyes upon her. I knew not of her true life before me, in truth I cared not. I kept my true profession hidden from her, and for a while she thought me no more than a successful man of business.”

Blackjack paused, then looked Drake straight in the eye. “But secrets such as we both carried never last long between two who truly love each other. We soon confessed our true stories to each other, and found that we did not care. As long as we had each other we were more than content. Of my own violation I gave up my profession, and began to actually work the farm that went with my cottage. I can promise you she was happier than she had ever been with our simple life.”

He turned his gaze to the ceiling. “Then came the day I was off looking to a horse that had wandered away. I heard the scream as I neared our home, and ran for the back door. As I burst in she was on the floor, and Terrance Blackwood stood above her. His fist was clenched, and blood flowed from her lips. I remember little after that, but I pulled my sword from the wall and cut the bastard across the face. He fell backward and I turned to see to Jenny.”

“I should have never taken my eyes off him!” Emotion choked the pirate’s voice. “I never heard the click behind me, but she reached up and pulled me off balance with all her strength! I fell to one side as the pistol fired behind me, striking her in the chest! Before I could recover he had bolted, and as I cradled her in my arms I could hear the hoof beats of his horse fade into the distance! She died in my arms!”

Jack’s fist slammed into the cot with his frustration. “She died because of me! If I had only pressed my advantage, and done the blackguard in, she would yet live! It’s my fault she died at his hand!”

“You did nothing save be concerned for her, Jack.” Duckie said softly. “I thank you for letting me know the real story, and if I have anything to say about it you will get your chance to avenge her.”

Dr. Gander stood and walked to the door, stopping as he opened it. “Remember, I have your word.” He said without turning around. “You stay in that cot and rest. I’ll come back to check on you every now and then. You can’t revenge our Jenny if you succumb to your wound, and your in no true danger here aboard the Lobo del Mar.”


Reply author: Welsh Wench
Replied on: 03/04/2008 18:43:36

Wench's head was swimming from the combination of rum and confusion. She was filled with great trepidation over what may or may not have transpired. Although all indications were that she and Jack weren't exactly exchanging cookie recipes...

She lifted the cover carefully once more. Yep, Jack was without apparel. She leaned over to her side of the bed. Li'l Puddin' was snuggled in her chemise.
She bit her lip, perplexed. 'If my chemise is there....and Jack's clothes are over there....
She looked under the bed.
'Oh my GOD!'
Jack's boots were parked under her side of the bed.
She looked over at Jack. His back was turned and it was kind of...scratched up.
'Doesn't mean anything', she reasoned. It could have been Puddin'. Yes, that's got to be the answer! The cat did it.
She carefully lifted up Jack's arm and slid down towards the edge. Carefully she rolled. Closer..closer...Ooof!
'Guess the edge was closer than I thought.'

Jack stirred and she hastily put a pillow in her place. He threw his arm around it.
She leaned over and whispered, "Go back to sleep, darling..."
He murmured, "Do you want to....zzzzzzzzzzzz."
Wench quietly picked up her chemise and shimmied into it.
"Good Puddin' but you mustn't scratch up your daddy's back like that."
Puddin' glared at her for being disturbed.
She shook her head. 'I swear, that cat really does resemble his side of the family...'

Tiptoeing into the small room off to the side of the cabin, she filled a wash basin with water. 'Why do I feel like the bottom of a bird cage?'
She looked in the mirror and gasped.
There were three hickeys on one side of her neck and two on the other.
She remembered the line Jack had used on her that night they met. 'I don't bite...too roughly!'

Bits and pieces of the night started to connect the dots in her mind. She remembered seeing Duckie.
Sort of.
They were discussing parties and what to wear. She remembered shedding her clothes and crawling into bed. The next bit was hearing Jack swear and his knife cutting through the ropes. A blank spot and then her words came back to haunt her....
'Then find a way to shut me up.'

Jack woke up to a blood-curdling scream from the other room that was probably heard all the way to Glenlivet....


Reply author: Welsh Wench
Replied on: 03/05/2008 06:09:04

Deadbishop and Captain Bacardi were at Dead Man's Tavern enjoying a tankard of rum.
Deadbishop paused with the tankard halfway to his mouth.
"Did you hear that?"
Bacardi shrugged. "Yeah. That's Wenchie."
They both went back to their rum.

Lorelei stopped wiping the bar down, shook her head and muttered to herself, 'It was bound to happen sooner or later. I hope you survive, Mad Jack.'
She resumed her task.

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« Reply #39 on: May 19, 2008, 09:30:36 PM »
Reply author: Capt. Bacardi
Replied on: 03/05/2008 09:39:34

Bacardi lowers his tankard again...
"Blue!!!....Get out of that wenchs bodice, and go find Wenchie"
Blue tilts his head at Bacardi, like I am having fun here.
"She has coconut rum in her bodice....".
Blue takes flight in search of Wenchie. The Captains looks back to Deadbishop.
"She is probably going to need my help bailing her out of some kind of mess."
"OH".....They do bad to their rum......

Lorelei looks over to Bacardi.
"You should really stop doing that"
"What can I say I am a sucker for blondes.....Plus she told me a good place to get rum..."


Reply author: Mad Jack Wolfe
Replied on: 03/05/2008 21:33:50

Honour's scream startled Jack out of his sleep. He flew out of bed and into the anteroom where she stood in front of a mirror.
"What's happened? Are you all right?" he asked urgently.
"Look at me!" she exclaimed. "You were supposed to stay on your side of the- oh, for God's sake! Put some clothes on!"
He leaned against the door facing, purposely flaunting the fact he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing just to annoy her. "Forgive me, darling, but when you go screaming to raise all blue bloody hell, decorum is a low priority. Besides, you seemed quite happy with this attire last night."
She gave him a withering look. "It must have been warmer last night."
"Touché," he sighed, and returned to the bedroom to fetch his clothes. "What are you so up in arms about?"
"You promised you'd stay on your side of the bed, Jack! We had a deal!"
"Deals change. You know that."
"Thanks for reminding me," she said snidely. "Tell me the truth; did we...?"
He paused to tuck in his shirt. "What do you think?" he said, motioning at his neck.
"I'm having a little trouble remembering, after all that rum you-"
"Ah, ah, ah! You're the one who kept asking for more. It's not like a gun was pointed at you."
"There's another fond memory."
"All the evidence points to the affirmative, love," Jack smiled, tightening his belt. "We've officially gotten reacquainted."

Honour sat on the edge of the bed. "It shouldn't have happened. This is terrible!"
"It's not terrible," he said. "In fact, it's wonderful! Plus, it's a logical extension of what you proposed in the first place."
"Oh, I have to hear how you've figured this out."
"You proposed we merge our crews, yeah? Well, now the co-captains have, shall we say, merged as well. It all fits quite nicely, pardon the pun. Hey, this means you're the first captain I've ever made love to, or would want to for that matter. Usually one has to join up with the regular Navy to make such a claim..."

"THAT'S IT!" she exploded. "Enough!! Get out! Get out!! Go!" she hollered.
Jack backed away from her, wide-eyed. "Now, Honour, just settle down..."
She grabbed his boots from under the bed and threw them at him. "Bastard! GET OUT!!"

Jack got through the door as quickly as he could before she slammed it and threw the lock. As he stood there staring at the door, he heard a quiet chuckle from behind him. There at the end of the hallway was Briggs.
"See? I told ye she'd not throw ye out naked," the quartermaster chortled.
Jack was about to reply when he heard the door unlock. He turned to see if Honour had changed her mind. Before he could open his mouth, his hat hit him squarely in the face, and the door slammed again.


Reply author: Lilaney
Replied on: 03/06/2008 09:40:42

Lil spewed what was once a full mouth of ale all over the deck.
Her laughter made the Quartermaster and the Captain turn around to see the errant Surgeon of the Knight Hammer laughing at the current situation.
"Want me to talk to her? Or, should I send for Kate?"
Her request was punctuated with wheezes and choking from the laughter.
"Thank you, Lil. I have this."
The Captain was smiling like a cat who got the cream. Briggs was trying to glower at Lil, but, the smirk of humor from the current situation kept breaking through.
Lil nodded cordialy and continued on her way to the main deck. She smiled merrily at the waters as she leaned against the Quarterdeck's railing.
"Nice to see Captain Wench is back to normal."


Reply author: Mad Jack Wolfe
Replied on: 03/07/2008 21:57:41

Jack put on his hat, then leaned against the wall and started pulling his boots on. "Glorious morning, wouldn't you say, Josiah?"
Briggs was initially caught off guard by Jack's cheeriness. "Aye, that it is. Better for some, I'll be bound."
"No, I'm not one to kiss and tell..."
"The hell you ain't! I seen that look too many times to be told different."
"Guilty as charged, my friend. It's a beautiful day," Jack beamed. "Is Duckie up and about?"
"Aye, he's in the surgery checkin' on Roberts and that Elinor girl."
"Good! I've got some questions for the erstwhile Mr. Roberts." He walked in the direction of the surgery, whistling a cheery tune.

Duckie was preparing his books and instruments when he heard Jack knock at the door. "Good morning, Jack. You're looking chipper today. Get a good night's sleep, I trust?"
"It was a very, very good night," Jack smiled. "I do have a favour to ask."
"I'll do my best to accommodate you if I can. What do you need?"
"I need to speak with Roberts."
"Can't it wait, Jack? I'd rather he rest and gain his strength before you interrogate him."
"Duckie, we're a little over a day out from La Ville du Traitre. I need to know if there's any more surprises we might encounter on the way."
Duckie sighed, but gave in to Jack. "He's in steerage with the rest of the Knight's Hammer crew at his insistence. You have until the next watch bell. Not a minute past." He finished gathering up a few things turned his attention to Elinor.
"Thank you, doctor. I promise no to overtax him." said Jack as he left.

The ship's scribe pretended to be asleep, but she had eavesdropped on the entire conversation, as she had the night's before. She was worried that Jack Wolfe would find some way to split up the crew, and that he'd found his starting point with Blackjack.

Jack found his way to the temporary home of the Knight's Hammer crew. The accommodations were far from opulent; each berth contained 2 hammocks, one slung above the other, and scarcely any room for personal possessions save a sea chest or duffel.

"I had a feelin' you'd be along to see me," Roberts said from his bunk, not offering to rise and meet the ship's captain. "Where's your drum for the trial, Captain Wolfe? I was expecting all the bread and circuses!"

"Calm yourself, Mr. Roberts. I have a few questions about the previous night that requires answers only you can give me." Jack leaned back against the bulkhead and regarded the former highwayman. "Why are the English after you hot enough to indiscriminately attack a pirate ship of superior strength?"
Blackjack appreciated the direct question, and slowly shook his head. "Not the English. Just one man hell-bent on stretching my neck," he replied.

"Ah! Good! I'd hate to find myself at war with England over the likes of you," Jack sniffed.
"His name's Malcolm Dagget, a noble-born snake if there ever was one. He's what you'd call motivated to see me dead."
"And why so?"
"Because I'm determined to kill him first."
"Any particular reason for your mutual blood-soaked vendettas? A woman, no doubt?"
Roberts' eyes darkened. "Aye. A woman I loved, and acquaintance of Dagget's murdered her."

Jack weighed things in his mind for a moment before speaking again. "I can see how a vendetta could be sparked by an event like that. Still, no matter how badly you want Dagget's head on a pike, you are now a member of this crew, until such a time as we retake the Knight Hammer. So you can put your 'jumping ship' notions right out of your head. The crew have standing orders to turn the patereros on any boat stolen from this vessel. Any attempt at running will be your last."
"That's quite an offer, Captain. Either I mind my P's and Q's, or watch my chances of drawin' a next breath fade."
Not at all, Mr. Roberts. Once ashore, you may part company, if that is what you wish. I'll simply not have you absconding with my ship's equipment."

Duckie appeared at the doorway. "Jack, I have some input that will help you decide your next steps with him." Jack and Duckie stepped outside the space and spoke for a few minutes. Finally, Jack returned.

"Before you go passing sentence on this poor old sea dog, I have a question or two for you, Captain," Roberts declared.
"All right then, ask away.
"Why didn't you just hand me over to Dagget when you had the chance?"
"Because," Jack began, "he attacked my ship with no preamble nor provocation. It wasn't until well into the fight that we knew it was one deranged fool after you."
"You could have recalled your crew and left me to die."
It wasn't my crew causing the confusion. They where Honour's people, and Honour herself staging your defence. To recall my men would have left her exposed, and I was unwilling to risk that."
"So you were more worried about her safety than mine."
"Yes, if you need it spelled out like that. Yes, I was concerned about her safety."
"You've got to admit, brother, that's a strange way to react, given the state of your marriage...
"SUffice it to say our marriage is a strong, yet unique on. And it's an odd marriage, inviting none of your business." Jack replied stiffly. "Now, get your rest. We'll be docking at La Ville du Traitre sometime tomorrow. Perhaps we can gain additional information of Malcolm Dagget while we're there. Someone that brazen usually has a big mouth, too."
Roberts could scarcely believe his ears. "You mean, you'll help me get my revenge?"
"There's precious little profit to be had in the revenge business, but the satisfaction it brings is more than worth it. You have my cooperation."
"Thank ye, captain!" Roberts exclaimed.
"Don't thank me," Jack smiled. "Thank the doctor. I owe him more than a few favours."


Reply author: Welsh Wench
Replied on: 03/08/2008 21:19:24

She yelled to...no one.
Her mind was in a turmoil. 'How can I face my crew with all these sucker-bites'?
She went back into the anteroom and looked in the mirror again.
Doesn't even know the meaning of the word 'discreet'.

She took her hair and pulled it in front of her neck. If only it isn't breezy....
Hunger overtook her desire to hide for the next twenty-five years. She dressed quickly and as she backed out of the room, pulling the door closed, she bumped into something.

"Briggs! You startled me!"
"Beggin' yer pardon, Mrs. Wolfe, but..."
Wench said curtly, "It's Captain. Captain Bright. I changed my name back this morning."
"Well, seeing as how you and the Captain have entered connubial bliss once again and---"
"Who told you that? Did HE tell you that?"
"Well, not exactly--"
"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?"
"Well, he was smilin' like--"
"Like what?"
"Like he did a few months ago when he and Renee--"
Briggs looked around for a longboat or at the very least some canvas to hide under.
"Can we start this conversation over again, Ma'am?"
"Didn't think so."
"Did he tell you what happened?"
"No. He said he wasn't the 'kiss and tell' type but I saw the look on his face and--"
"Look at my face."
"Yes, ma'am. A right pretty face it is."
"Do I look like he did?"
"Well...I can't rightly say. It's been a while since I've seen you after----"
Wench took Briggs' hat and jammed it down over his nose without a word.

She poured herself a cup of coffee from the galley and headed up to the upperdeck.
"I thought I'd find you here."
"Where else would I be? You know I always take my morning coffee in the sunshine, Wench."
Kate sat with her face to the sun, smiling even though her eyes were closed.
"Kate, I've got a problem."
"When don't you, Wench?"
"A man problem."
"As I said, 'When don't you, Wench'?"
"Things got a little..complicated last night."
Kate opened her eyes and looked at Wench. She didn't say a word.
Wench sat with her coffee on the deck and said, "Last night..um..well.."
"The sailcloth came down?"
"Not exactly. More like it was set free. Kate, it wasn't supposed to be like this!"
"Oh, come on, Captain! You two have been on a collision course since he set foot in that tavern in Barbados!"
Wench rubbed her temples. "Damn rum always gives me a headache."
Wench hastily pulled her hair in front of her.
"Oh, I wish! That I could deal with."
"Oh, you mean, he used your neck for canvas and his mouth was the medium he used?"
"Doesn't mean anything. Kate, I don't remember a thing about it."
"I said, "I don't remember--"
"I heard what you said, I just don't believe it."
Wench nodded. "I must be losing my touch if I can't remember a thing."
"Then how do you know it happened, except for the ungodly markings on your neck?"
Wench shrugged. "I would have known...wouldn't I?"
"I would think so. Only one way to really know for a fact if you did or didn't, Wench."
"How, Kate?"
"Wait nine months and see if there's a miniature captain or wench making an appearance!"
"Thanks alot, Kate."
"Anytime, Wenchie."

Show me your tan lines..and I'll show you mine!

I just want to be Layla.....

Offline Welsh Wench

  • Legendary R/F.com Member
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« Reply #40 on: May 19, 2008, 09:32:07 PM »
Reply author: Blackjack Roberts
Replied on: 03/09/2008 11:07:37

Blackjack lay back in his cot, he had not completely obeyed Duckie’s instructions and had taken quite a few moments to prepare for the worst. It had become a habit for him since Jenny’s death, serving him well over the years.

Apparently Captain Wench had not noticed anything unusual in his sea bag, not that he had expected her to, and everything was still in place. She had even replaced the rosewood box that still contained two of the antidotes to the Thuggee poison. Jack knew he was right about her, and could trust her. The halo may be dented, but the woman it belonged to still carried a good heart.

He smiled at his exchange with Mad Jack, a good captain and pirate there, concerned more with his ship and crew than anything else. Still, he couldn’t be blamed for underestimating Blackjack’s abilities, it was the same thing that kept Dagget and Blackwood at bay. As if he would have been fool enough to try and slip off with a long boat without taking precautions to ensure his success. Misdirection was such a handy technique when applied to situations other than a conjurer’s tricks.

No need for that now though, Mad Jack had earned his respect, if not his complete trust. Roberts had told both him and the doctor no more than they needed to know, and he was fairly sure the sawbones had brought Mad Jack up to snuff on the rest. Jenny’s uncle? That explained much. Small wonder Jack had awoken a second time to find all his surprises still in place, including the one Drake knew about.

Blackjack chuckled, had he possessed the knowledge he had now six years ago he could have walked off with the Crown Jewels, and no one could have stopped him. Better still, Blackwood would be dancing jigs for Lucifer’s entertainment long ago, with Dagget as his waltzing partner.

La Ville du Traitre was the next port of call, eh? Even better. It had been a couple of years since Blackjack had set foot on that den of iniquity, but was fairly certain that he was still there. Strangely enough it was the one place that old blind sea dog was completely safe. The question now was if Roberts should put the old pirate to use.

If any would know of Cade’s exact whereabouts he would, but what would Mad Jack’s reaction be when they found him? When he found out Cade’s plans to take Honour for himself? There was still Wench to think about as well. That she deserved her ship back Jack had no doubt. The problem was he knew his cousin all too well and there could be only one reason he would steal The Knight’s Hammer. To lure her to him, and Mad Jack wasn’t the type to just sit idly back while another sailed off with his wife.

This was turning into quite a sticky wicket indeed. Roberts questions to Mad Jack had not been to spell out anything about himself, that he already knew, but to get the pirate captain to tilt his hand about his true feelings for Wench. The ploy had worked brilliantly. Blackjack now knew beyond doubt that Mad Jack was deeply in love with his wife, regardless of what outer show he put on. Misdirection was a handy technique indeed, properly applied.

The question now was just who did Blackjack owe his loyalty to? He answered the question almost as soon as he asked it. There could be no doubt. His loyalty was to the crew of The Knight’s Hammer and Captain Wench alone. It would be their best interests that he would serve, no matter who stood in the way. Once they made port in La Ville du Traitre he would go to see old Pew. If the man knew anything about Cade Jennings whereabouts Captain Wench would soon be made aware of them. After that the decision would be hers as to what, and who she wanted.

Malcolm could wait. Most likely he thought Blackjack dead, and it would be some time before he learned otherwise. On their next face to face meeting, however, Roberts would hold nothing back. It was high time Terrance Blackwood lost his prize hound. If Sir Blackwood had indeed called in enough favors to commandeer three of the crown’s ships, and lost two in the process, then Jack’s fear of him releasing an even larger force at Malcolm’s death was a moot point. The king would never agree to it now.

“And when you get to Hell, Dagget,” He said to the empty room, lighting a thin black cigar, “You be sure to tell Satan that you have company coming to join you. Very soon.”


Reply author: Elinor Hakebourne
Replied on: 03/09/2008 14:58:03

Elinor patiently listened to the Captain of the El Lobo speak with Dr. Gander, her eyes closed. She could feel her eyelids fluttering open as Jack left the surgery and Dr. Gander changed the dressing on her wound. The moment she heard the door close a second time, she opened her eyes. With a start, Julian, who'd been watching her as she dozed, glanced at her. Her brows were furrowed.

"Did you sleep well?" Julian asked.

"Partly," Elinor responded, shifting on the cot. "He's up to something."

"Who?" Julian asked. "Dr. Gander?"

"No, that Captain of yours," Elinor replied, frowning. Why do I have the feeling that this cozy arrangement of our two crews working alongside each other isn't so cozy for all parties concerned? She thought. Choosing not to voice any more opinions to one of the members of the El Lobo's crew, she pushed her thoughts of Captain Wolfe and what he might be trying to do to the crew of the Knight Hammer out of her head, at least for the moment. She let her facial features relax out of the harsh frown they had sported, and she sighed. She didn't have much time to engage in further conversation with Julian, however, as there was another knock on the door of the surgery.

Julian looked up, and sprang to his feet at the person who entered the surgery now. Elinor could faintly hear the tinkling of bowls and mugs. She sat up, slowly, looking behind her, to see none other than--

"Martin!" She exclaimed, smiling.

"I got word you wanted to see me," Martin replied, grinning himself. "Lil also said you were preparing to go against Doctor's orders and leave your bed to do so," he continued. "And as much as I appreciate the gesture, if the doctor says to stay in bed, you shouldn't ignore that on account of me."

"It's so good to see you, Martin!" Elinor exclaimed. She moved to hug the cook, forgetting her wound. The pain in her shoulder that resulted served to bring her memory back quite quickly, and she lowered her left arm once again, gasping.

"Give that arm of yours a rest, and have some breakfast," Martin ordered,lowering the tray laden with food so that it rested just above her knees. "There's more than enough for both of you," he added, spying Julian suspiciously. He glanced at Elinor, who gave a nod and a small smile, and Martin relented. "Thank you, Martin," Elinor said. "I don't care what Dr. Gander says, you are allowed to visit me anytime."

"You are very welcome, and thank you," Martin responded warmly. "I should see about breakfast for the rest of the crews, but I will be sure to check on you later." Elinor nodded, and watched him leave.

"Seems Lucky has been given some time off," Julian mused, gazing at the food before him and Elinor. "Very well-timed time off, I might say!" He leaned in close to Elinor. "Our cook left...well...much to be desired."

Elinor nodded. "We're lucky to have Martin on our crew." Remembering the times he'd steered her out of harm's way, she said softly to herself, "Very lucky."


Reply author: WhiteRose
Replied on: 03/10/2008 21:32:00

“What the hell?” Rose said as she pick herself up off the ground.

The baby started to cry and then stopped. Rose walked over to her to see nothing but blood coming from the side of bed. The closer she got the madder she got. When she got to her there was a piece of the bow in her little chest. The baby tried to breath but she couldn’t do. Rose just look at her and said ‘ Sleep my little one, forever sleep.’ Everything that she had tried to keep in her past was just a taste of what was about to happen now.


She picked her up and started running out the door. When she found Dorean, he was with Daemon.

“DOREAN, OUR BABY! Who did this to our baby? Who killed our baby?”

‘Our Baby killed…’ That’s all he could get out as he turned around to see Rose holding Arwen in her arms covered in blood. All hate he felt towards Rose just stopped and he started blaming Daemon for everything that had just happened.



Reply author: Martin Montgomery
Replied on: 03/11/2008 06:33:14

Martin,carrying a covered tray from the galley,nimbly dodged the crewmen that hurried to their morning work stations. Most of them offered him a mock salute or a quick grin as they passed under the loaded tray. "I guess that the best thing to make the "El Lobo's" crew accept us "Outsiders" from the "Knight Hammer" is a little good food in their bellies and a stirring sea battle!!"He thought to himself "It didn't hurt that Lil patched up the wounds of half the crew up on deck yesterday!" Lost in thought,the burly man knocked once very lightly on the surgery door and then just walked in expecting to find Elinor and Blackjack asleep in their sickbeds and possibly the two ship's surgeons discussing some medical procedure He stopped short,still balancing the breakfast tray in his right hand the surgery's doorknob still gripped in his left. Jack's bed was empty,but a figure had quicky lept from the stool sitting VERY near the bed of the "Knight Hammer's" comely young scribe. She was struggling into a sitting position in her bed,a smile lighting up her face,her hurt arm was swathed in clean bandages and she was in clean bedclothes. "Martin" she exclaimed, her smile showing her joy at seeing the large cook,whom she counted on to listen without comment and to never,ever judge.(And he could COOK!) The crockery shifted under the warming cover and an almost musical chorus of muted tinkling sounded as he quickly righted the tray with a scowl directed at the "Lobo's" foppish looking scribe who offered a weak grin at the VERY,VERY large man blocking the doorway,while nervously fingering the jeweled hilt of his beltknife."I got word you wanted to see me,Lil also said you were preparing to go against Doctor Gander's orders and leave your bed to do so," he continued. "And as much as I appreciate the gesture, if the doctor says to stay in bed, you shouldn't ignore that on account of me.(Or him!! He finished inside his head! "It's so good to see you, Martin!" Moving to hug the cook as he set the tray on the bed,resting it just above her knees. Her face showed the pain as she lowered her injured left arm with a gasp."Give that arm of yours a rest, and have some breakfast! Whipping the cover off the tray,Martin showed the bounty that he had brought from the galley. Bowls of oatmush,fresh biscuits,little brown sausages that still sizzled in their bowl,a rasher of bacon sang counterpoint,a pyramid of wedge cut fried potatoes graced a platter next to large bowl of scrambled eggs.Butter,jams and jellies were arranged on a carrier next to a large pitcher of fruit juice. "There's more than enough for both of you,I had thought Jack would still be here" he added, still scowling at Julian his face turned away from Elinor's,turning back to the young woman who gave him a nod and a small smile. Martin relaxed,she was able to take care of herself,but with her injury......"Thank you, Martin," Elinor said,breaking into his thoughts "I don't care what Dr. Gander says, you are welcome to visit me anytime." "You are very welcome, and thank you," Martin warmly replied "I should see about breakfast for the rest of the crew,but I will be sure to check on you later." With a final low growl and a curled lip directed at Julian he left the surgery,pulling the door closed with a shake of his head he headed forward to search for the "Captains Wolfe" he had heard through his budding grapevine that the ship was damaged more than the Male Captain had let on and that they were headed towards the Pirate Port of " La Ville du Traitre" and he needed to let the Co-Captains know about the small holes created by cannon fire from the English ships. The damage had been patched by the ship's Carpenters, but not before half of the Galley Hold,amidships had flooded,ruining many of the provisions and leaving the ship low on many staples. "She does know how to look after herself" He whispered to himself "But will she want to?" With another shake of his shaggy head ,Martin steeled himself to report the bad news to "Yin and Yang" as the crew had began to call Mad Jack and the Welsh Wench.

Show me your tan lines..and I'll show you mine!

I just want to be Layla.....

Offline Welsh Wench

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« Reply #41 on: May 19, 2008, 09:33:32 PM »
Reply author: Martin Montgomery
Replied on: 03/13/2008 05:16:12

Martin had thought to quickly stop by the Galley and pitch in with the finishing touches of the crew's breakfast but,as with any simple task,everything went wrong! The hens had sufferred "Shell Shock" because their coops had been stacked against the starboard bulkhead,not the port,which had been holed by one of the attacking ships.Half of the poor birds were refusing to lay,and the other half couldn't keep up with the renewed demands for the new cooks food. Several tedious hours later a VERY tired large man headed to his small space set aside for him in a corner of the soggy galley hold. Using a wooden crate as a desk, Martin checked the list of ruined supplies against the list that he and the Dooley brothers had double checked when surverying the damaged larder together. Martin had set the young men to making a savory stew from the busted barrels of salt pork ,after first checking each peice for splinters! Dried peas and corn would help form a thick,tasty gravy and he had sent one of them,Tim he thought,back to find a bag of cracked barley to thicken the rue and help it stick to the hungry crew's ribs. Shaking his head he removed his worn grey beret and raked his fingers through the shaggy mane. Absent-mindedly he polished the fine gold pin that rode proudly upon the the hats shabby band with a bit of linen,a Lady's kerchief,and let his tired eyes close for a few seconds. "Was she safe?" He wondered "Was she happy?" he let his mind bring up her face out of his fondest memories and he smiled. It had been good while it had lasted,but in the end the Wanderlust got to him and they had drifted apart. When the big man found himself under a heavy workload or lots of stress, he could think back to their time together and breath easier,knowing that somewhere out in the wide world,at that EXACT SECOND was remembering him with fond thoughts. Bringing the list on the crate back into focus he smiled,gave the horsehead pin a gental rub with his thumb and set the threadbare beret back on his head. "Boys!!" He called to the Dooley's "Don't scorch that stew!! It must simmer for a long while to make that bootleather that Lucky had stocked up on,taste like pork!! Wake me up in a few hours,so I can show you how to make fresh bread!! The Carpenters must have used the hardtack to plug up the holes,cause I didn't see any!" Leaning back in his hefty hammock,the big man put his boots up on the overturned crate. Covering the inked stamp "Ship's Hardtack- Best if used by........."


Reply author: Hibernian
Replied on: 03/14/2008 19:43:55

A slow draw upon the pipe brought forth the bitter taste of the smoke as it played across the surface of his tongue. But deep within that bite of bitterness was a hidden sweetness. He laughed at himself now comparing the smoke to his current situation. While on the surface things did not seem to be going well, Isle of Traitors indeed, there must be a way to turn this to their favor and find the sweetness within a situation he is helpless to change.

His Order has been sailing the oceans since the original Brendan found his way to the promise land in the setting sun. While not the oldest profession upon the waves, piracy was a close second and this Isle was just another incarnation of the ageless idea of the stronger preying on the weaker. One didn’t have to know there was no honor amongst thieves to realize that once within sight of the cursed isle that the entire crew must be on the alert if they wish to leave with everyone and everything that belonged to them intact. Somehow he must make sure to get his dear Captain aside and make sure she realizes the full extent of where this ship is heading. This was an island where anything and everything was for sale and sometimes people, even whole crews were known to have disappeared. After all, there was still a price on her head, and much worse has been done for as little as thirty pieces of silver. Perhaps his feelings were wrong, perhaps Captain Wolfe could be trusted, but his gut told him to watch and be ready to act...just in case silver was stronger than love.


Reply author: Ice Mage
Replied on: 03/16/2008 12:44:41

*At that moment, one of the powder kegs exploded. The shock through them all to the deck, as the rest of the bulkhead fel away. Through the now gaping hole in the wall, a British Ship of the Line could be seen. Planks extending from her deck to the now crippled merchant vessel. Within moments soldiers poured down through the decks.*


Reply author: Martin Montgomery
Replied on: 03/17/2008 05:20:15

Tim Dooley crept closer to the mountianous form occupying an oversized hammock,which swung gently in time to the waves that the good ship "El Lobo Del Mar" effortlessly cut through on it's way to the Traitor's Isle. "This is the last time that I listen to Tom!!" He thought as he inched closer to the softly snoring man. "You lost fair 'n square Brother!! The empty hand is the one what picks! Now you go and wake Martin while I fetch these ingrediants from the galley hold."Smiling he held up the scrap of paper that the cook had scribbled out the neccesary items needed for making bread. Two steps further in,"An' like a fool,here I go, ta' wake up a man that I seen with me own two eyes,throw aside full casks of salt pork so's them Carpenter's could get at that last big hole inna "Lobo's" side!! Damnation!! Them blessed casks is a couple hunnert pounds a'piece EASY!!" Stopping and crossing himself Tim wondered aloud "Why dint I jest pick Tom's other hand?" A low chuckle rumbled from under the grey Beret and a voice whispered "Then the hand that picked would have been the one with the marble,Tim, and you still would be here talking to yourself!! Snapping upright and touching his knuckle to his brow Tim Dooley gawked as Martin Montgomery took his extra large boots from their place on an upturned crate then heaved his bulk to a standing position. Looking past Tim,he noticed a bright beam of sunlight arcing down from an open hatch on deck. "Looks like it's around eleven,time to rise and shine! By the way Tim" He grinned "I don't usually rip the arms off of my friends and shipmates!! With that the big man crossed the galley to remove the cover from the cauldron that had been pushed away from the hottest coals and sniffed the tempting aroma rising from it's contents "Well" He sighed "It's not stuffed and roasted pheasant but it should stave off hunger for today!!"


Reply author: Blackjack Roberts
Replied on: 03/18/2008 20:40:05

Blackjack pulled the small blue flask from it’s hiding place in the false bottom of his cigar humidor, he could no longer afford to have his throbbing head keep him bed bound. Although the tincture of poppy juice and black lotus would not heal him any faster it would allow him to ignore the wound and any side effects from it for a few hours.

He dreaded using the concoction though and kept it only in case of emergency. Once it had allowed him to run through the jungle even though Malcolm had put a flintlock ball through his thigh. He had almost bled to death from forgetting that he had been shot. That was not why he dreaded it though. The bloody stuff tasted like an aged pigsty smelled!

He took a sip of the foul tasting syrup and gagged it down while he replaced the bottle in it’s hiding place. Immediately he pulled a black tobacco cigar from the humidor and lit it in an attempt to get the taste out of his mouth. Rum worked better. Placing three more cigars in the inside pocket of his jerkin he lay back and waited for the liquid to take effect.

While laying back and thinking it had suddenly occurred to him that there was something strange in his exchange with Captain Wolfe. Were it not for his throbbing head he would have caught it sooner, but the fact seemed to remain. Drake Gander had not told Mad Jack all of the story. Blackjack had deliberately led him to believe that Malcolm was his target to throw him off the scent, and when he had returned he seemed to still be under that impression.

It could only mean that the doctor had not informed him that Jack’s true target was Sir Terrance Blackwood. Malcolm was incidental, more in the way than anything else. Were he not trying to kill Jack to please his master Jack wouldn’t have given a brass farthing about the man. Still it seemed that Duckie had allowed that misconception to remain, and Blackjack needed to see if he could find out why.

Something else had occurred to him. He had maneuvered Mad Jack into giving away his true feelings about his wife, not that they were not obvious to any but the blind, and that had brought another thought to Jack’s muddled brain. Mad Jack intended to keep Captain Wench aboard the Lobo. To do that he would need to split the Knight’s Hammer crew asunder, and he planned to try and start that fissure with him!

“Not bloody likely, Mate.” Blackjack murmured to himself as he rose from his cot. The potion was working and he neither felt dizzy, nor the dull throb in his head. He grinned sarcastically. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Blackjack pulled a sheet of parchment from his bag and a bamboo stylus. Dipping it into the small steel inkwell he scribbled out a note to the doctor:

“Don’t be worrying your head, Sawbones. I’ll be keeping’ me word, and am still aboard. Just got hungry, and am headed to the Galley fer somthin’ to tide me over. I’ll behave and return soon.”

He grinned at the awkward scrawl he used to disguise the fact that he could write perfectly well, tossed the note onto the bunk, and strode for the door.

“Well, It's not stuffed and roasted pheasant but it should stave off hunger for today!!" Martin groused over the stew pot when he heard the now familiar laugh from behind him.

“Perhaps not, Mate. But I’d be as likely ta eat it were it three day old horse meat. As long as ye been the cook.” The huge man turned to find Blackjack leaning in the doorway to the galley, grinning. “Think ye could spare a bowl fer a shipmate what’s not had a bite in two days?”

“Jack!” The giant of a man grinned. “I was going to bring you a bowl, but you seem to have beat me to it!” Martin was pleased to see his newest crew mate up and about. “Elinor said you had returned to your quarters. Come in and have a seat.” Martin turned and filled a bowl of stew handing it to the former highwayman.

“Ahhhh! Thank ye kindly, Martin.” Jack smiled with gratitude. “Me stomach were startin’ ta think it was me throat that got cut instead ‘o me head what was shot. How is the lass, by the way?”

“She’s doing much better. Thanks to you I hear.” Martin watched with glee as Blackjack dug into the stew with gusto.

“I just happen ta in the right place at the right time.” Jack dismissed the praise. “I couldn’t well stand by and let the lass die when I had a fair idea as to the cause.” He looked around the galley quickly. “There be none ‘o the Lobo’s crew about, is there?”

“None. It’s a short while till mess call. Why?” Martin frowned.

“Ye know about their captain’s feelin’s fer our own lovely captain, don’t ye?” Jack dropped his voice to a conspirator tone.

“Aye.” Martin nodded. “Who doesn’t?”

“I’ve a feelin’ Mad Jack intends ta keep his wife with him, whether we finds the Knight’s Hammer, or no.” Blackjack continued. “Ta do that he’ll have to make sure she has no crew ‘o her own. He plans on splittin’ up the crew ‘o the Knight’s Hammer, and thinks ta start with me.”

“Over my dead body!” Martin growled.

“Calm yerself, Mate.” Jack winked, handing the empty bowl back to the Knight’s Hammer’s cook. “He can only succeed if’n we lets him. Fore warned be fore armed says I. Ye being the cook can spread the word ta the rest ‘o our crew without the Lobo’s crew being any the wiser. I’ll be a visitin’ Elinor and let her know what I’ve twigged.”

“That scribe from the Lobo’s crew is with her, Jack.” Martin warned him as he stood to leave.

Blackjack grinned wickedly, patting Old Hob. “No worries there, Mate. Leave him ta me.”


Reply author: Lilaney
Replied on: 03/19/2008 08:45:08

"Day's looking good for tacking."
A body had joined Lil at the railing; she knew who it was before he even spoke.
"You bet, just for the curiosity of the crew, where the heck are we headed?"
Lil turned to look at Duckie's profile.
He seemed to be intent upon something, what ever it was he wasn't letting on with his looks.
That man certainly had a poker face.
He remained silent in his ponderings. Lil leaned against the railing and stared out over the ocean.
The gents of the Lobo and the scant handful of swabs from the Knight Hammer were busy behind them with adjusting the sails and lines, grabbing what wind there was as it came. Their shouts and songs were a melody that sang to Lil's heart as she felt the ship moving and shifting to the wishes of its crew.
"We are after your ship, of course."
Lil nodded to the obviousness of his statement, but, to her it sounded rather rehearsed.
"If you say so, but, your meaning holds much to be desired."
Duckie never took his eyes off the waters to the NorthEast. He squinted at the horizen,
he could see the omnious darkening.
"It is due too being after your ship that is marking our course, where it takes us, well, that is where my meaning stands."
Lil followed his gaze and saw the darkened sky. She searched her mind for what that particular shade of black could mean.
Duckie gave a firm shake of the head.
"La Traite du Ville"
Lil's eyes rounded to the size of saucers and her mouth formed a silent 'O'.
"Is it really nessicary?"
Duckie then turned to look at her, her fear could not be hidden fast enough for his scientific eyes
to divine.
"That is where we are headed."
Lil nodded and looked away from the increasing darkness that was slowly coming upon them.
Her own innards were at war, her courage battled her fear.
"You'll be fine; I've seen you fight."
The half-hearted attempt at flattery made her smile slightly. She turned again and leaned in close to Duckie, for being on a pirate ship, and being surrouned by the salty tar of sailors, he smelled good.
"Ain't me I am afraid for." She whispered.
The breeze blew over the ship from the North East at that moment bringing with it the smell of burning wood and flesh.
"Smells like we are five nautical miles out." Lil pulled away from his curious gaze.
"Best let the crew know we are almost at the Gates of Hell."


Reply author: Elinor Hakebourne
Replied on: 03/19/2008 10:04:34

The surgery was quiet once more. Having eaten breakfast with Elinor, Julian had told her he wanted to tend to a few things in other parts of the ship, so he had left her, with a promise to check in shortly before they docked.

As such, the surgery was empty save Elinor, who tried to close her eyes and rest, but to no avail. She found her mind wandering back to Captain Wolfe's entrance to the surgery, and what he'd said to Dr. Gander. Not having much information to go on, however, her mind flitted to her fellow Knight Hammer crew members, and what would befall them next.

Listening to the silence, she heard the crew singing on the main deck. She could only faintly make out the tune, and it wasn't one she recognized, but it was nice to hear music once more. She'd almost forgotten about it, with all the adventures and dangers that had happened to both crews of late.

Before she realized it, she had started singing with them, but a different tune altogether...

"Where will they go?
No one yet knows how their story will end
But theirs is a story of battles with foes
And sharing pints and talk between friends..."

It was a rough tune, plagued by stops and starts when a lyric didn't come as easily as the rest. Her voice, rugged with disuse, started out rough as well. But as she continued singing, the tone grew clearer and stronger, as she remembered all the adventures, from Tortuga, to Glenlivet--and the cats!--to this recent battle aboard the El Lobo. The memories fueled her singing, and gave it life.

"In a new tavern called Dead Man's there met--" She paused. "How to describe our crew, in words that might rhyme, no less?" Her brow furrowed in concentration.

"I don't think our crew could be limited to one verse of a song, lass," said a voice from the doorway to the surgery. Elinor nearly jumped out of the cot in fear and surprise, finally turning around to see who had entered. "Blackjack!"


Reply author: WhiteRose
Replied on: 03/19/2008 17:58:38

Rose held Arwen tight has she could, as two of the British soldiers grabbed her by the arms.

“Do not touch her! Get you hands off my wife and daughter, You lousy pieces of sh*t!”

Dorean draws his sword and plunges it into one of soldiers holding Rose, while Daemon leaps on top of the other soldier.

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Offline Welsh Wench

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« Reply #42 on: May 19, 2008, 09:37:33 PM »
Reply author: Hibernian
Replied on: 03/19/2008 20:43:35

Just another stride or two and he would catch her. Having spotted her on the upper deck conversing with Kate she had moved down the stairs and was heading below before he could reach her. Somehow she seem not to hear his calls which was unusual considering everyone else on deck was holding their ears from the loudness.

“Make a hole, coming through, gang way there, Son move your posterior or else!” Through the hatch and down the stairs, a hard right and then a left brought him in sight of the long blonde hair moving down the hall.

“Wench” and yet still she didn’t respond.
“Wench!” loud enough for the hands two deck below to shout back but the blonde headed lass didn’t miss a step.
“Wench hold it right there or I shall call you by your proper name in front of God and crew!” Stopping quicker than a ship running aground on a sandbar her hands went to her hair as she turned, ”Why Brother Timothy how nice to see you, but you must excuse me I have an errand."

“Consist. Verto.” Turning to go his voice caught her off guard, the register had changed and she found herself unable to move. Her mind was certainly willing, but somehow the legs weren’t listening. Strange, she hadn’t experienced anything like this since her druidic training as youth. She wondered if there was more to this old monk than anyone suspected.

“Wench, we need to talk, do you know where the Lobo is currently heading?”
“Certainly Brother, I’m the Captain or at least one of the them, what kind of Captain would I be if I didn’t know where we were heading. I’m not just a figurehead.” She leaned back into a shadow and pulled her hair to the front of her shoulders.

“Is something wrong with your neck?”
“NO! I mean no, everythings fine.”
“Then why do you keep adjusting your hair and collar, please step into the light so I may see you. Girl we don't have time to play back and forth here like youngsters," he stepped forward and extended his hand, "may I?" He lightly lifted the long blonde hair to expose her neck.

"Dam Wench your neck, St. Blaise protect you, what happen did you battle a kraken last night?"
"Oh these little things, would you believe I ran into a door..."
"Please while I am a monk and have taken the vow keep in mind I haven't always been a monk, so please don't insult the intelligence of either one of us. I imagine this had something to do with the other Captain Wolfe."
"Do I look like the type of girl to kiss and tell?"
"No, normally the boots under your bed tell the story well enough for you. Wench this is exactly why I needed to talk with you. Whether you realize it or not where we are heading is not your typical port of call, the only rules are the ones being made up at that moment. The way you, shall we say usually behave, can be very dangerous on this isle, people may take things the wrong way and well there could be problems for you and the crew."

Stepping toward him, the monk could see the seriousness in her eyes "I am the Captain and I will take care of my crew. Besides you know me, I'm like a cat who always lands on its feet."
"Yes, I've watch you and I've help patch you up, how many lives do you have left Wench and are there enough lives to cover everyone from the Knight Hammer?"

"Brother I will be careful, we stop here long enough to repair the Lobo and then its back to sea and after the Knight Hammer." A quick move and suddenly the monk found himself being bear hugged by the blonde Captain. Akwardly he reach around and patted her on the back. "Um, I'm sorry but this is a little unusual for me"

"Thats why I did it, your the one man aboard I can hug and not have to worry about misunderstanding and looking for more."

"Fine young lady, just remember to behave and watch out, the face you see may be smiling while the hand behind the back holds a knife."


Reply author: Blackjack Roberts
Replied on: 03/19/2008 21:58:51

“How you feelin’ now, Luv?” Blackjack walked over to Elinor’s cot, pulling Drake’s tall stool over from his desk to sit next to her. Suddenly she sat up and hugged the surprised pirate with her good arm.

“It’s so good to see you walking around, Jack.” She smiled excitedly. “How can I ever repay you?”

“By getting better, Little Sister.” Jack grinned. “Ye’ve no idea the importance of a good scribe. Ye be the keeper ‘o all the secrets ‘o the ship.” He winked and Elinor giggled for a moment, before her countenance turned gloomy.

“But, Jack. What if I can not write anymore?” Tears began to fill the young scribe’s eyes. “My fingers still won’t work right!”

Blackjack reached up to gently cup her cheek in one warm hand. “Now don’t ye be worryin’ yer pretty head on that account, Luv. That be just the after effects ‘o that particular poison. It paralyzes the muscles around the entry wound. It will wear off in a few days, take it from one what knows.” He smiled reassuringly.

“Oh, Jack! Do you mean it?!” Elinor almost jumped for joy in her cot.

“Here, now!” Jack scowled, smiling at the same time. “Don’t ye go overtaxin’ yerself there, Missy. Ye leave that kind ‘o foolishness to Ol’ Jack. I has more experience at it. Ye rest and get well, the crew needs ye.”

“Speaking of which,” Elinor crossed her own arms in front of her and scowled back, “shouldn’t you be resting yourself, Mr. Roberts?”

“See what I mean?” Blackjack laughed. “I will, Lass, but at the moment there be some things I needed to tend to. Things important to the future ‘o the Knight’s Hammer crew, and I has me ways ‘o dealin’ with me own injuries fer the moment.”

“You mean what Captain Wolfe has in mind for us?” Elinor’s eyes widened. “Have you found something out?”

“So, I see I’m not the only one who noticed.” Jack mused, dropping his pirate persona. “This is what I meant about a good scribe, Lass. You have the head for the job, very little escapes your notice. Yes, I believe I have figured out what the good captain has in mind.”

“Jack!” Her eyes widened even more, “I’ve never heard you speak like this before!”

“When one wishes to blend in with their surroundings and not arouse suspicion it becomes prudent to effect every aspect of one’s environment, Luv.” Jack grinned. “It isn’t to deceive my crewmates, I assure you. People tend to believe what they see and hear, and I long ago learned how to use that to my advantage. It’s how I’ve kept ahead of those who would see me dead.”

Elinor smiled realizing how much he had come to trust her to drop his ruse in her presence. “So what have you learned?” She whispered excitedly.

“From what I was able to wheedle out of Mad Jack without his knowing, I believe he has formulated a plan to keep Honor by his side. Whether she wishes to be there or not.” Blackjack stroked the goatee part of his beard thoughtfully. “He has figured it out that if she has no crew to be captain of, then she would rightfully turn to him and stay with the Lobo. To that effect I believe he has formulated a plan to dissolve the crew of The Knight’s Hammer. He‘s a canny one to be sure.”

“I thought as much myself!” Elinor gasped, and related what she had overheard between Mad Jack and Duckie.

“Your perceptions make you well suited to your job, Luv.” Blackjack grinned proudly. “I’ve been to see Martin and…..” His words trailed off as the door suddenly opened and Julian burst into the room.

“I couldn’t hear all, but it sounds like the two of you are planning mutiny!” He shouted.

Blackjack stood slowly up from his chair. “Ye be wrong there, Mate.” He grinned wickedly facing the Lobo’s scribe. “Regardless didn’t yer mama teach ye it’s not polite ta eavesdrop?”

“And what do you plan to do about it?” Julian sneered, his hand inching toward the pistol in his belt. “Your not in the best of health, Roberts.”

In a blur of motion that surprised, and shocked Elinor Blackjack’s hand flew to his belt and sent a thin line of black snaking out into the space between him and Julian that ended in a loud crack. Julian’s belt and pistol clattered to the wooden floor, the belt’s leather cut three inches from the buckle as cleanly as if by a knife.

Julian jumped and flattened himself to the bulkhead as Blackjack’s other hand shot out releasing a silver streak that pinned his shirt to the wood of the ship’s wall, a throwing dagger that the both of them had never seen Jack in possession of quivered there. Sweat broke out on the Lobo’s scribe’s face in rivers, as Jack strode over to him.

“Listen up, and mark me well, Mate.” Blackjack growled lowly as he pulled the dagger from the wood. “Breathe one word about what ye think ye heard here, and I’ll clip yer ears and tongue just as fast and easy. And believe me. There are none aboard this ship what can stop me in time. What ye heard were the Knight’s Hammer crew makin’ sure we remain a crew! We don’t give a tinker’s damn about yer captain’s ship, nor his command, but we’ll be damned ta Davy Jones locker if we’ll be letting’ him drive a wedge between us!”

Blackjack turned to leave. “See if ye can talk some sense inta yer friend, Luv. Fer his sake. I’ll be seein’ ye later.” He winked to Elinor so Julian couldn’t see before he turned and strode out the door for his own quarters. Duckie would be around to see about him soon enough, and he could feel the potion beginning to wear off.


Reply author: Martin Montgomery
Replied on: 03/20/2008 07:40:45

After Blackjack left the galley,Martin began thinking how to let the "Knight Hammer" crewers at least be on the lookout for each other while not tipping his hand to the "Lobo's" crew. "We can't have this appear to be a "mutton-y" as Wench would say!" A quick grin here " But as Blackjack said fore-warned is fore-armed. Still I can't be seen taking just "our" men aside,it would choke off the newfound camradarie that battle has forged between the two crews. Wether or not Mad Jack has thought to separate WW from "Her" crew,we must stick together!" Absentmindedly stirring the stew with a long handled wooden spoon the big man thought "I also have to figure out exactly how many weapons I can sling from my belt without clanking or slowing myself down!" Still stirring the large cast iron pot,a slow smile crossed Martin's lips and an amused chuckle escaped them. Later that day when serving the combined crew the hearty stew with thick slices of toasted bread,he made sure that Lilaney,Brother Timothy,Mason and several other,literate and totally loyal to WW,members of the "Knight Hammer's" crew recieved specially toasted slices carefully crafted by Martin using a bit of bent wire heated in the coals of his cooking fire. As he set the thick slabs of bread on the trays he spoke to each man in line no matter which ship he hailed from, but when he set the "special" slabs on the chosen men's trays,face down,he tapped the toast and winked. The message simply....."C E 4 INFO"


Reply author: Elinor Hakebourne
Replied on: 03/20/2008 12:10:59

As she watched Blackjack leave, she muttered, "My friend? He's not my friend."

Julian turned around, his face red with anger and embarassment, and, Elinor suspected, more than a little fear of the man he'd just interacted with. She caught his gaze finally, and it was as if she now saw him through an invisible shield, one that could not been seen, only felt. That unseen barrier prevented Julian from crossing to her bedside, and seemed to halt their speech, for neither talked for what seemed like a very long time. Then, turning on his heel, Julian started to stride out of the surgery.

"I hope you're not going to do what I think you are going to do," Elinor said softly. "He meant what he said, I am sure of it."

Julian halted in his stride, pausing for just a moment. "I have a duty," he replied, and then left the surgery, without looking back. Fearing for the worst, Elinor delicately swung her legs onto the wooden floor, and carefully stood, propping herself up on her right hand. Once standing, she slowly began to walk, holding on to anything nearby--sometimes even awkwardly grabbing at the wall--to steady herself. Exiting the surgery, she glanced around, looking for any sign of her El Lobo counterpart, but he was nowhere to be found. "Got to find Blackjack," Elinor muttered to herself. "Where would he be? Maybe the galley? Perhaps the Knight Hammer's crew quarters?"

Continuing to walk onward, she decided to try the galley first. Steadying her breath against the waves of nausea that swept over her, she walked past the ship's crew going about their daily routine, continuing to repair the ship after the battle. Finally arriving at the galley, she found it almost filled to capacity with crew members of both ships.

"Look who's up and about!" One of the El Lobo crew members exclaimed. This gave the others pause, and they shifted their gazes towards the doorway, where Elinor stood wearily.

"ELINOR!" Martin and Lil admonished together. "Whatever happened to staying in bed, obeying Duckie's orders?" Lil asked her, coming over to her. As soon as she had reached Elinor's side, Elinor whispered in her ear as nonchalantly as she could, "Circumstances require me to cut my bed-rest short."

Lil looked back at her bread, the message unmarred by a few bites taken out of the edges of the slice. "What is going on?" She asked, pulling Elinor off to the side by her good arm.

"Not here," Elinor muttered, trying to avoid the glances of the El Lobo crew members. "This room is full of wolves." Lil gazed at her friend for a second, finally understanding. Martin glanced over at the two of them with concern, but Brother Timothy did not meet her gaze. "You need to be resting," he calmly asserted, turning around and approaching her and Lil. "Cabin-fever, that is all this is," excusing her behavior to the others present. "Lil, help me get her back to the surgery, will you?"

"But--"Elinor protested.

"No but's," Lil replied.

"You need to know something!" Elinor hissed rather loudly. Brother Timothy glanced around to make sure no one had heard her. "I have no doubt of that," He whispered into her ear. It was only when they had gotten back to the surgery, and Elinor was once again laying on her cot, that Brother Timothy spoke again. "As you said yourself, that room was full of 'wolves,' as you put it, and I don't doubt it would have been a very dangerous place for all of us if you'd decided to start talking there and then."

Elinor's eyes widened. "You heard that?"

Brother Timothy nodded. "But I doubt anyone else did, they were so focused on the meal before them."

"What is this all about, Elinor?" Lil asked. "First, Martin's leaving messages for us etched on our bread, and then you decide to take a stroll when you should be resting, fear written all over your face!"

"I was not strolling," Elinor replied indignantly. "If I was strolling I would have been in a lot less pain, I'll have you know!" She glanced at her left arm, where a deep red circle had bled through the dressing.

"Perhaps you're getting better then, if you can be that indignant again!" Lil replied, managing a small smile. "But why the sudden need to go walking?"

"I think--and so does Blackjack--that Captain Wolfe--the Captain of the El Lobo--intends to separate us from Wench so he can have her all to himself."

"What?" Lil asked, her eyes widening.

"And while we were talking about it, Julian came in, and started yelling about mutiny, and then Blackjack threatened him as to what would happen if he talked, but Julian left anyway. I think Julian's going to tell Mad Jack what he overheard," Elinor whispered. "Before he left the surgery, he said he had a 'duty,' probably to his Captain, to let him know what we were planning. I was trying to locate Blackjack, but instead found all of you."

Show me your tan lines..and I'll show you mine!

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Offline Welsh Wench

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« Reply #43 on: May 19, 2008, 09:39:17 PM »
Reply author: Lilaney
Replied on: 03/20/2008 14:44:53

Lil's Brain whirled with the inumerable scenarios that could be quickly played out.
Every one going from bad to worst.
She saw Brother Timothy nodding in time with all the words that Elinor was saying.
"This is not good." Lil stated the obvious then, began to pace the surgery.
"But, what about Julien?"
Elinor sat a bit straighter up on her cot. Brother Timothy had began to change her bandages. He was doing a fine job, so Lil let him get on about it.
Lil looked at the back of the surgery door for a moment.
"BlackJack can take care of him. No, my concern is for us. La Ville du Traite is not exactly a luxury resort and to be going there makes me wonder. Why are we going there?
And finally; if we cannot find the Knight Hammer, there is no way in hell I am staying on that island for any length of time. I'd rather be keel-hauled."
Elinor watched Lil in her pacing; the stride was made longer by nerves, her face set with determination. She stopped suddenly and stared at Elinor.
"You are certain in your information? Not a doubt rests on this relay?"
Elinor nodded firmly at her friend, biting her lip as Brother Timothy made the bandage snug in its place.
Lil gave a curt nod. And set to pacing again.
"That settles it then, we have to get Kate, the Captain, Martin, and BlackJack all in one place. We need a plan, a backup plan and a fall back plan."
Timothy gave a flit of a smile at her ramblings. His confidence was palpable.
Lil watched him for a moment, then went back to searching her mind for possible solutions.
At that moment, the door opened.


Reply author: Blackjack Roberts
Replied on: 03/20/2008 21:26:54

Julian strode down the close hallway towards the captain’s quarters. He fumed inside at what had just happened. That pretentious bastard had dared to make him look like a weakling in front of Elinor! Worse yet after he had preached to her about acquiring fighting skills if she were to be the scribe of a pirate ship! How dare he?!

He especially hated the feeling in his gut. The trembling fear that settled deep inside from the display of skill he had been the recipient of. He had guessed correctly, there was far more to Roberts than met the eye. The man was moving about as if he had never been wounded in the first place, and no one human could fight like that a mere two days after such a wound. He had seen too many wounded men in his time to believe it. The man had to be some kind of demon.

Well, once he had made it to either Biggs, or captain Wolfe it would be a moot point. They could keep him safe from Blackjack. He wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t have him keelhauled, or thrown overboard once they knew.

“Goin’ somewhere, Mate?” The hated voice set Julian’s knees to quivering as he looked up to see Roberts blocking his way. “Ye didn’t think I’d be letting’ ye go that easy did ya?”

Julian raised his right hand, his retrieved, and cocked pistol pointed at Blackjack’s chest. “D-d-don’t move so much as a whisker, Roberts!” His voice slightly higher than Julian was used to. “I won’t hesitate to shoot you! Keep your hands where I can see them and take off your weapons! I’m taking you to Captain Wolf!”

Blackjack grinned. “Wouldn’t think of it, Mate. Just don’t get all trigger happy on me, and I’ll go quietly. Perhaps yer silence can be bought? Would this seal yer tongue?” He opened his hand to reveal a two inch wide ruby resting in his palm.

Julian’s eyes glowed with greed. He could accept the ruby and still turn Roberts over to the captain. It would be just deserts for the man making a fool of him in front of Elinor. “It’s a deal, Roberts! Hand the jewel over nice and slow and I’ll let you return to your quarters then forget all about what I overheard.”

Blackjack closed his hand over the glittering red square and slowly held it out to the scribe. As Julian transferred his pistol to his other hand and held out his right to accept the ruby Jack suddenly tightened his grip. A crunching sound was followed by Jack suddenly turning his hand upright and tossing a handful if crushed thin red glass and white powder from his palm.

Out of instinct Julian inhaled sharply, sucking a good amount of the powder deep into his lungs. A violent coughing fit took him for a few moments, as he struggled to get a bead on the advancing pirate. Why couldn’t he lift his pistol? The fit had passed. He tried to raise his hand to ward off a blow from Blackjack. His arm wouldn’t move either!! What kind of spell had this devil put on him?!!

“Have’n a bit ‘o trouble there, Mate?” Roberts grinned as he took the pistol from Julian’s paralyzed fingers. “That there be the same dust what the Obeah use to make zombies with. Were the sawbones ta find ye in a few moments they’d wrap ye in a linen cloth and slide yer worthless carcass overboard. I’m tempted ta let that happen.”

Julian’s mind screamed in silent horror at the thought of being buried at sea alive as he listened helplessly to the highwayman turned pirate continue.

“No worries there, Mate. I’m not that cruel a man.” Blackjack smiled. “I’ll be hidin’ ye instead. It takes about three days for the effects ta wear off without the antidote. By then I’ll have me business ashore taken care of. Till then ye better hope none finds ye. Even the doc will believe ye dead, and ye know what would happen to ye then. Once I finds out what I need ta know, I give ye me word I’ll return ta set ye free ‘o the powder.”

With that Blackjack threw the thin man across his shoulder and headed for the place he had chosen to hide the man for the next few days until he could talk with Pew. What he hadn’t told the scribe that was once he had given the man the antidote to the powder he would never remember the last few days. It was the antidote, and the continual feeding of it to the victim that was actually responsible for creating a zombie.

Roberts would have used it now to make the scribe forget, but he had none of it with him. He had never planned on having to release anyone from the living death it induced. He could get what he needed at La Ville du Traitre. Till then he would have to hide the man and hope no one found him. They would instantly believe the scribe dead and bury him alive without knowing it.

By the time he had secured Julian’s body in the last place any would think to look for it the potion had nearly worn completely off. Blackjack stumbled dizzily back to the Knight’s Hammer crew quarters. The note lay undisturbed on his bunk and he collapsed on top of it. All of his skill had been used to insure that no one of either crew had seen him since he left the surgery, and it had taxed what he had learned from the Lin Qui to it’s limits.

As he passed out his mind took him back to that day he had washed ashore in China, and the events that had led up to his being taken in and trained by one of the clans of the vagabonds.


Reply author: Mad Jack Wolfe
Replied on: 03/21/2008 21:25:53

The morning air was clear and crisp. Jack inhaled deeply, the salt air refreshing his mind and spirit. He looked out over the ship from the quarterdeck and smiled with satisfaction. Some of the crew looked up at their captain and started speculating rudely amongst themselves as to why he looked like the cat that ate the canary.

He went to the binnacle, found the bottle stashed there, and took a healthy tug of rum. La Ville du Traitre lay a day before them. Hopefully they could get the ship repaired in a couple of days. It would cost more, but he didn't want to stay there any longer than he had to. Who knows where Cade was going with Honour's ship, but Jack was determined to run him down and return Honour's ship to her.

But he had enough to deal with at La Ville du Traitre in the meantime. How easily could he keep Honour under wraps long enough for him to track down Ahmet the Turk and negotiate a recall of the £250 bounty he'd drunkenly put on the head of the woman he knew as "Honour Bright"?

He took another drink of rum. "Thank goodness she's going by the name 'Wolfe'," he thought. "It should make dickering with Ahmet easier if his men don't know she's right there in the town."


Reply author: Blackjack Roberts
Replied on: 03/23/2008 12:50:14

Blackjack had pushed himself too far under the influence of the painkilling drug. He had caused it to burn through his system at too fast a rate, and that had allowed the lotus to flood his brain at an accelerated pace. The usual trance like effects of the black lotus took over and he sank backward into the past.

He found himself back on the deck of the Maria Anne, caught in one of the worst storms he had the misfortune to ever witness. He had left India and Malcolm’s group of Thuggee assassins far behind, chasing a rumor that offered him the hope of surviving their next encounter by something other than luck.

Roberts had worked his way to the position of quartermaster on the pirate ship since signing aboard, and he couldn’t say that the captain’s decision to waylay a shipment of British opium has set well with him, but the crew had voted. Blackjack didn’t care as long as he could make it to Singapore and begin his search for those he sought. They hadn’t counted on the monsoon though.

The monstrous waves tossed the ship around the ocean like a child’s toy. Driving rain that stung the skin like icy daggers made it impossible for them to get their bearings, but as far as the pilot knew they lay somewhere near the coast of China, between the Japans and the mainland. More than once the violent heaving of the groaning vessel had tossed men overboard, and sent Jack himself tumbling to the deck.

Without warning the bow lookout shouted as hard as he could, “ROCKS AHOY! DEAD AHEAD!!”

Blackjack cursed beneath his breath. The storm had driven them closer to the mainland than they had realized. Not knowing if he had enough time Jack grabbed a loosely rolling barrel and pried the cork free. It was one of the grog barrels that had been left on deck for the crew’s entertainment, and thankfully it was nearly empty.

He poured the remainder out to be washed from the deck by rain and sea water. Ramming the cork home he pounded furiously on it with the side of his fist to ensure it may stay put. Grabbing a length of rope he put one arm around the barrel and lashed it to him as best he could. Just then he heard the sickening sound of wood rending itself asunder on stone, and the Maria Anne flipped sideways launching his helpless body into the churning sea.

Mi Lin walked cautiously along the beach. It had been strewn with the wreckage of some hapless ship that had been unlucky enough to have been caught in the monsoon of last night and she was sure there had to be at least a few valuable items her clan could make use of. Since the western barbarians had increased in their trading numbers such events proved useful to keeping the Lin Qui well supplied and less dependant on defrauding the populace.

She could assume that there were no survivors since only that which could float had reached ashore. The western devils must have hit the short islands that sometimes dotted the sea about a mile away. She shook her head, only fools, or pirates attempted to sail these waters during the monsoon season. Suddenly her almond shaped brown eyes widened.

Yes. Her eyes were not playing tricks on her. There behind a few crates that had washed shore were the booted legs of a gweilo. What luck! At the least he would have a few coins that should come in handy to exchange in town. If his weapons had made it to shore with the body all the better. The powder would be useless, but the quality of the firearms were second to none, and highly prized by the aristocracy.

She rolled the body over, discovering to her shock that the westerner still breathed! How could this be? By all rights he should be dead! It had to be a sign from the ancestors. She would have to consult with grandfather. Perhaps the I Ching would hold the answer. Putting her fingers to her lips she whistled loudly, and her two brothers ran back up the beach to her.

“What is it, Mi Lin?” Li Chan asked breathlessly. “Have you found something useful in this mess?”

“I do not know.” She frowned. “See for yourself.”

“Buddha!” Fai Chen exclaimed. “This gweilo is still alive! In that sea last night? He must have a very powerful joss!”

At that moment Blackjack’s eyes fluttered and he groaned. Mi Lin knelt down beside him. “Ni hao. Ni ke ma?” He heard her say.

“Sorry, Luv. No savvy.” Blackjack smiled. “Well at least it looks like I’ve made landfall in China. Could have been gentler though.” He tried to set up and collapsed back onto the sand in exhaustion. “I’ll never find the Lin Qui at this rate.” He said to himself.

The brothers instantly shot looks to each other. “How can he know of the Lin Qui?” Chen eyed the stranger suspiciously. “This gweilo is too dangerous to let live!”

“I agree!” Li nodded. “Let us kill him and be done with it!”

Blackjack didn’t understand the melodious words, but he knew full well the inflection his hosts were using. Anger and fear sounded the same no matter what language was used. He had to take the gamble and pray if he were to survive. Reaching up around his neck he pulled the small jade amulet free of his shirt and said the only phrase Jun Quon had taught him in India.

“By the Grandfather of the Vagabonds, I claim your protection!” He choked out coughing from the irritation the sea water had imposed on his lungs.

The three looked in shock at the small figurine dangling from the leather thong Jack’s hand held aloft. How did a western devil gain possession of the brotherhood amulet? Even more puzzling, how did he know the secret phrase that demanded hospitality from one clan to another?

“We must take him to Grandfather.” Mi Lin demanded. “Gweilo, or not, we cannot ignore tradition.”

The two men nodded, and grunted an affirmative. Blackjack relaxed for the moment, sensing that he had gained a small measure of safety for the moment and if he had not there would be precious little he could do about it now. As his exhaustion overcame his senses he could only hope lady luck had not yet turned her back on him.

The next sight to meet his eyes was that of an aged Chinese gentleman. His wispy beard hung almost to the center of his abdomen and his solid white eyebrows curved up well beyond his brow. The effect was both sinister and gentile at the same time. His clothing was neat and slightly expensive without being opulent. His equally white hair draped down his back in a waist long braid.

“Welcome.” He smiled speaking in near perfect English. “I am Liang Hu, leader of the White Tiger clan. I am curious as to how you have come to know of us and where you acquired this.” He held up the Jade amulet that had been around Blackjack’s neck.


Reply author: Lilaney
Replied on: 03/26/2008 15:24:40

Lil's hollering was muffled by the deck; in which her face was now pressed.
Her arm twisted up and behind her back.
"Let her up, lad. She can't help her reflexes, it is the way she is programmed."
Lil was set back on her feet with a swift thump by Martin. She flexed her now
released arm, as the pins and needles tingled the nerve endings back to life.
"Thanks Martin. He scared me! You don't go sneaking up on a person when their back is turned."

Duckie was fuming.

"I did not 'sneak' up on you! I merely opened the door to MY surgery and was accosted by a she-harpie with a dagger. I only defended myself!"
Brother Timothy had moved swiftly from Elinor's side to next to the good doctor's.
"Lad, she meant no harm, she's just a bit jumpy."
Duckie looked around the room clearly since entering it and saw the majority of the crew of the Knight Hammer. His gaze stopped on Elinor's down-turned and somewhat guilty face.
His gaze focused on her and his eyebrows drew together.

"What are all of you doing in here? And why has your bandage been changed, Elinor?"
Lil stepped into the line of the piercing gaze that Duckie had leveled at her friend.
"We are having a family reunion and talking about the price of tea in China.
And I would thank you to let me take care of my patient how I see fit.
If I want to change her bandage fifty times a day, I will! And further more.."

"Lilaney, calm your pride, he is merely concerned."
Duckie looked at the passive face of the Good Brother and grew even more suspicious.
"Concerned isn't the word, but, I can see that I am not wanted. I will be going, once I have come to fetch what I am after."

The room full of eyes watched as the good doctor made his way to his desk and riffled through papers, selecting a few, he glanced them over, he tapped them smartly into a tidy pile, and nodding
to the assembly, he made his way back out the door.
His last glance was at Lil, his eyes left Lil feeling as if she had done something wrong. Forbidding herself from looking ashamed, she lifted her head and cocked an eyebrow at him as he closed the door with a sharp snap.

"Now, where were we? Oh, yes, how to warn our Captain of the suspected betrayal. I think we should tell Kate, she has the closest and least suspected contact with her. Now that Julian AND the Doctor know that we are in cahoots, I can garun-dam-tee they will be watching us just a hair bit harder than most."
The room in general nodded at this idea. Lil turned to Brother Timothy.

"Brother, seeing as you would be the least supsected of this assemblige, would you do the honors of informing either the Captain, or Kate?"

Brother Timothy smiled and gave a slight nod, letting himself out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

"Martin? If you get wind of anything. Send us another message and we can gather here again."
Martin smiled, gave Elinor a gentle hug and returned back out the door.

"What about me? What can I do?" Elinor looked at Lil, her eyes held so many emotions that Lil also felt the need to go and hug her.
"You are hereby ordered to get well. If you promise not to move this day, we'll go on the deck tomorrow and you can get a glimpse of the true scum and villanany that is our next port of call."
Elinor, feeling a bit tired, nodded at the somewhat confusing statement and began to drift off to sleep.

'Now, for me to go find the Doctor, and think up a whopper to keep him from garnering any more suspicion that he must have already divined.'
Lil turned the oil lamp's wick low, to dim the room, and left the surgery.
"Where would the good ol' doc be so early in the morning?"
She thought, as she made her way through the bowels of the boat.

Show me your tan lines..and I'll show you mine!

I just want to be Layla.....

Offline Welsh Wench

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« Reply #44 on: May 19, 2008, 09:40:30 PM »
Reply author: Welsh Wench
Replied on: 03/26/2008 18:54:06

Wench looked right and left in the companionway. Captain Mad Jack Wolfe was nowhere in sight. She quietly went back to the captain's quarters.
Back to the scene of the crime.

She sat on the bed and looked at it. If we did, I should remember it, yes? Of course. But I don't. Was it that lousy?
No, it never was before. And it's like riding a horse, right? I mean, you fall off and may even get stomped on, but you get back in the saddle for a ride.
Wait...that didn't sound right.

She flopped back on the bed and looked at the ceiling. Really does need painted...but I should have noticed that last night.
The pillow smelled faintly of rum and leather mixed with jasmine. A scent that always took Wench back to the heady days of Castara Bay and Barbados.
She laid there and looked at the tattered sailcloth and the knife thrown in the corner.
All evidence pointed to it, as Jack said.

She picked up the pillow and threw it.
Always screwing her life up. And now he was taking her to the bowels of Hell.
And all without a new dress for the party.

She marched down the hall and opened the door to the room on the end. She began to gather clothes and some sheets and blankets.
Josiah Briggs stood in the doorway.
Wench turned to Briggs and piled the clothes in his arms.
"You are relocating, Briggs."
"And where do you think you are relocating me to, Mrs. Wolfe?"
"That's Captain Bright to you. I changed my name a half hour ago."
She took out some maps and added them to the pile on Josiah's arms, then spun him around and pushed him through the door.
"And where am I to sleep?"
She slammed the door behind him and yelled through it, "Tell your Captain Wolfe, 'Hi, bunkie!'"

She gathered all his things and threw them in the hallway. Sheets. Towels. Blankets. His boots.
"Ow, Wench! I almost broke my neck on all this stuff! What is going on?"
She looked out the door and saw Martin standing there.
"Martin! I'm moving into this room. I like the way the sun doesn't come in the window at 7 AM. I need my sleep."
Martin laughed. "Not from what I have heard."
"Whatever you heard, it's not true. Not at all. Not the remotest. Never happened. I don' t know where you got your information, Martin, but whoever it is, they are lying and I'll be the first to--"
"Your neck. You didn't have your head in a noose."
She muttered, "That's debatable."
"Plus the fact that Captain Wolfe..."
"What? WHAT?"
"Well, he's walking around like he just held the winning hand in a high-stakes card game."
Her eye narrowed. "Is he bragging?"
"Not in so many words. I think the word..strut...is the one we are looking for."
Wench said quietly, "Thank you, Martin."
"Don't worry, my little captain. No mutton for you. At least not today. Not as long as we have French toast!"
"Martin, you are beginning to sound like...me."
Martin grinned and tipped his cap. "Wench, you are more loved than you know. But just be a bit cautious."

She listened as Martin's footsteps faded away. Climbing to the upperdeck, she found Kate still there with her coffee.

"Yes, Wench?"
"Um...have you ever...um..."
"Not remembered?"
What? Anniversaries? Birthdays? Whether I ate lunch or not?"
"No. Have you ever gotten...close? And not remembered?"
"Wench, are you still bothered by this?"
She nodded. "I can't remember whether we did or not. The earth didn't move. I didn't see any shooting stars or explosions! I--I'm losing my touch! No one will ever want their boots under my bed anymore! I'm a dried-up old hag!"
"At twenty-one?"
Wench wailed, "Kate, I--I'm FRIGID!"


Reply author: Ice Mage
Replied on: 03/26/2008 20:06:16

*Dorean plunged his sword over and over into the soldiers chest. Long after the light had left his eye's, Dorean continued to punish the corpse as if he had personally murdered his child. Meanwhile, Daemon strangled his opponent to a lifeless lump.

Rose continued to rock back and forth with her child, muttering all kinds of random comments. Cursing the soldiers, she began to summon her Voidwalker (A demonic spirit, sworn to protect it's caster). Just before she was able to finish, she was met with another horrible shock.

The British flowed down the stairs like a great wave. Catching the two men exhausted, the soldiers clubbed the men on the back of their heads. Rose however was not as lucky. The soldiers ripped the now stiff little body out of her hands, while kicking her square in the face.

Moments later they were all tied up, and unconscious. They were drug through the burning corridors, and acroos the gang planks to the British ship. Flopped onto the deck, they were laid out before the British commander. Wearing the uniform of the Dragoons, the man ordered them to be dumped into the brig.*


Reply author: Blackjack Roberts
Replied on: 03/29/2008 20:17:01

The effects of the Black Lotus kept Blackjack reliving the events of over four years ago, such was it’s properties if used directly, or if he pushed the pain numbing drug too far too fast. Until the effect wore off he might as well have boarded a time machine and traveled back into the past.

“I am curious as to how you have come to know of us and where you acquired this.” Liang Hu had questioned him. Blackjack’s hand shot to his throat in a vain attempt to find the necklace that swung from the Lin Qui leader’s hand.

“You need not worry, I will return your property as soon as I have my answers.” Liang Hu smiled. “Never before has a gweilo ever mentioned us, and I am curious as to how you obtained your information.”

“Gweilo?” Jack’s eyebrows knitted in his confusion.

“Ah! Forgive me.” the old man smiled again. “Gweilo is our term for a white man. Translated literally it means a ghost. I’m afraid it is because of your pale complexions. Some do use it as a derogatory term. I assure you, I do not. How did you learn of the Lin Qui?”

“A friend of mine in India.” Jack relaxed, there seemed to be no reason to worry over the sage who sat beside his cot. “We found ourselves comrades by chance, and he told me to seek out the Forest Demons….the Lin Qui. He felt that only they could teach me the skills I need to survive my enemies.”

“And did this friend have a name?” Liang Hu asked.

Blackjack nodded. “Jun Quon.”

Liang Hu’s eyes widened for a moment, then he returned to his near inhuman state of serenity. “I see.” He said quietly, handing the amulet back to Roberts. “Rest now, you are safe here. Once you have regained your strength we shall see if you are worthy of such instruction.”

The elder man rose as silently as a passing shadow and left the room, deep in thought. Entering the outside garden he found himself face to face with Mi Lin. “What have you learned, Sifu?” She asked, breathlessly.

Raising his right eyebrow Liang Hu favored her with a sidelong glance. “You have much to learn of patience, Little flower.” He frowned. “Still all of this can not be mere luck. The hand of destiny is self evident. He has met with my grandson in India. If this is not the will of Buddha, then I do not know how else to explain it.”

“So we are going to train him??!!!” She asked incredulous.

“That will depend. If he can prove his spirit, then he will become the first, and quite possibly the only gweilo to ever learn our secrets.” Liang Hu scowled for a moment. “We will see.”

Suddenly the vision parted, and Jack found himself looking into the concerned eyes of Dr. Drake Gander. “Jack! Jack!” The concerned physician gently shook Blackjack’s shoulders. “Are you alright? I almost could not wake you. Who is Mi Lin?”


Reply author: Martin Montgomery
Replied on: 04/01/2008 04:57:24

Standing beside his hammock in the far corner of the galley,Martin shook his head at the pile of weapons and gear strewn across his small living area. "This must be how Wench feels every time she goes to a new town!" The big man snorted,then adopted a much higher pitched voice "What to wear!? What shall I wear!?" Smiling grimly to himself he selected an old favorite,a very long,wide belt made of thick and sturdy leather. To this he added his two long knives,the footlong blades resting on his right hip. His long boarding axe would be to hard to carry,since he was figuring on a quick departure from the pirate held island. "Hey!" He thought outloud "It pays to be prepared!" With that thought,and recalling overhearing Duckie as he quietly informed Captain Wolfe of some of the weapons found secreted upon the person of Blackjack Roberts,quickly adding a few "extras" here and there. Just to be sure,Martin cleaned,inspected and reloaded his matched set of dueling pistols,purchased from a weapons shop in Glen Livet right before this whole adventure started. The pistols were a true work of art,beautiful yet functional,both had long engraved barrels,walnut grips and decorative buttplates. The heavy buttplates had been added by the shop's owner,so the "Gentlemanly" pistols could be used as a club after firing. Martin stuck one under his belt behind his back and the other went inside a pocket on the rear of his newly sewn canvas gear bag, which he would sling crossbody. The newest aquisition to his arsenal was a wickedly sharp,short cutlass boasting an enclosed hilt that could be,and most likely had been,used as a "Knuckle-Duster".It's past owner,a gunner's mate named "Ham Hands" Harrison had perished in the savage battle between the crews of the English warship and the "Lobo". Harrison had fought off every challenger,but had been shot from behind by the same Thugee that had shot Elinor. Gordy,the "Lobo's" squinty-eyed lookout,had presented the weapon to him because Harrison had the cutlass specialy made for his oversized hands and it fit Martin's own meathooks like a metal glove. Setting the obvious weapons aside until the shore party was ready to embark on a new and very dangerous adventure,Martin turned from his seachest and hammock,then started to prepare the "Lobo's" evening meal."Lord above us" He whispered under his breath "Watch over Fools and Sinners,You know there are plenty among THIS crew!!"


Reply author: Welsh Wench
Replied on: 04/03/2008 19:37:04

Kate refilled her coffee and sat down next to Wench.
"My father used to say, Wench, 'you can't get a coconut every time.' "
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means once in a while things don't quite work out. For whatever reason."
"You think?"
"Yes, I think. Fatigue and stress. Not to mention that your blood was rum-infused."
"Maybe I should try again?"
Kate grinned, "It wouldn't hurt."
Wench grinned back and started heading out the door.
"Wench? Are you heading toward the crew's quarters?"
Wench said nothing.
Kate exploded, "I meant with Mad Jack!"
"Maybe you should wait till Black Jack Roberts is stronger."
Wench sat back down and said defensively, "I had no such idea."
"Uh huh. You do know it could compromise Black Jack's position on the ship, don't you?"
"To say the least."
Wench brightened. "There's always dry land!"

Kate shook her head. "Wench, you are something else!"
"You know I was just kidding."
"Uh huh."
"Although he IS good-looking."
"Black Jack Roberts? Yes, he is. Very."
"And so is Mad Jack."
"Top of the line. And they both have their teeth."
"That's always a plus."
"What about Cade Jennings?"
"The thief stole my ship. I'm going to keelhaul him when I catch up to him."
"And then?"
"Remains to be seen."
"Are you going to marry him?"
"I feel compelled to bring this point up. You are already married."
"Jack Wolfe and I were together a month. That hardly qualifies for an anniversary gift, let alone a roll in the hay."
"There's no hay. You'll have to do better than that."
"Alright. A romp on the high seas."

Kate laughed. Wench was quiet for a minute, then said, "Kate, did you ever noticed something about Black Jack Roberts?"
"Nothing more than he is good looking and wicked smart."
"No...something else. He reminds me of...."
"Of who?"
Wench took a deep breath. "Cade. He has the same laugh as Cade. And the way he raises an eyebrow and tilts his head when something strikes him as amusing."
"Now that you mention it...but I am sure there must be countless men who do that."

Wench tapped her finger to her lips. "Cade once told me of a cousin who was a highwayman in England and then disappeared."
"So people disappear and resurface in the most unusual places."
"You're letting your imagination run wild, Wench."

Just then, Briggs walked by with an armload of maps and charts, grumbling under his breath.
"You dropped one."
Briggs looked back and ran into a wall.

Kate said, "I'd love to be a fly on the wall when Captain Jack Wolfe sees his new roommate."
Wench laughed. "Don't need to be a fly. Hear that? That, my dear Kate, is the sound of Mad Jack Wolfe opening the cabin door. Now wait...."

Thirty seconds passed.
"And the next sound you hear..."
The expletives began to fly.
Wench stood up. "I do believe I shall make myself scarce. I was never here. You haven't seen me."
Kate gave her a mock salute. "Aye, aye, Captain Wolfe Jr."
"Captain Bright and...oh, look! Shiny things!"
And with that she walked quickly in the opposite direction of the yelling.

Show me your tan lines..and I'll show you mine!

I just want to be Layla.....


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