[Pitp] Caribbean Thread: Off Our Hinges

[Callos_DeTerran]

The grand Caribbean was a place of natural beauty, splendor, and majesty for those who paid attention to their surroundings. It was also a breeding ground of piracy, smuggling, and thievery as opportunistic individuals took advantage of the relatively inexperienced governments of the region to make a killing in shady businesses.

Sparkling clear waters were the territory of blood thirsty pirates, ruthless merchants, snobby lords, and those under the thumb of all the above and only in the Caribbean could it work the way it does. Spread across numerous islands and sand banks, there was plenty of space for the black-hearted to spread their wings!

And if there was one place where the black-hearted could walk in the full light of day without shame or remorse, it was the port town of Tortuga...

[Creed]

...Where Kane Blackite, the Gunner of the Deepest Sea, happened to be out of money and down on luck. He had been working in a bar fo two months. Honest work, yes, but no work for a self-respecting robber. He now looks for a new crew to sign on with, hoping for a gain treasure, fame, and quality of life.

[Callos_DeTerran]

Away from the frantic energy of the port itself, a small dinghy rocked gently in the waves as the two men aboard began to hoist in the first of their many fishing nets. The two were salt of the earth kind of men, the kind who plied the sea for an honest days work among the dishonest and spent the nights laughing and sharing a cup of grog among their friends. So when the net seemed to catch on something, the stout Spaniard began to curse beneath his breath, gesturing to the sun-burned Frenchman across from him to help with yanking the net up to the surface.

"This better not have snagged coconuts or trash again!"

"Feels too heav' for that. Maybe we got some sap's lobster trap, eh?"

"Yeah right, I don't think we'd be that lucky!"

And yet when the net was hauled out of the water and into the middle of their boat, a large shape did appear to be swaddled in the nets, the two beginning to unravel it with increasing interest.

...To find a body. A woman's body to be exact, richly dressed in red silk with deathly pale skin.

Who jerked up-right so suddenly it had the Spaniard stumbling back out of the boat with a splash as the Frenchman gaped wordlessly at the 'corpse' given life as she began to roughly cough up sea-water. Once that distasteful act was finished Sybille stood up unsteadily on the boat, waving her arms about for balance before giving a weak but cheeky grin to the one still in the boat.

"Ya have my 'ternal thanks, but Ah must go zee a man 'bout a boat!" the pirate captain declares grandly, despite looking as weak as a newborn kitten, raising one hand as if to tip a non-exist ant hat to the two...before kicking the Frenchman straight in the teeth, spilling him out of the dinghy beside his friend as Sybille plopped down and took hold of the oars as the cursing man clutched at his mouth.

"Worry not, Ah'll leave 'er at the docks for ye!" Sybille Morcant laughs out as she nears Tortuga's docks, eager to get a proper meal in her and see what news abounded. It had been...well she couldn't remember actually. But some time since she had called port in Tortuga and the lively city did more to invigorate her after her near-drowning experience then the minor theft of the fishing boat.

Ah can imagine it now! Moi, on the prow of a new ship, ze breeze on my cheeks 'nd treasure at mah back! 'othing better!

[Mina Kobold]

In the shadow of a newly docked trade ship a small boat could be see making it's way toward the docks of Tortuga, it's only passenger starved and soaked but still singing to a burial tune set by his lute.

Though, the closer to dock the boat it came, the jollier the music got until it was a ballad about life when the passenger set foot on the dock of Tortuga.

-Sink into the blue
I knew I had run dry of my luck
So I saw it me cue
To try to reach Tortuga's dock

Upon finishing his song, Everdawn nonchalantly headed toward the nearest bar, one of the many that fill up the town of Tortuga but one of the few to employ a pirate and gunner in honest work

Only to collapse as soon as he was in the door

(Yay, Everdawn stumbled into the only bar with another PC in it, what a coincidence :smalltongue:)

[Creed]

In the shadow of a newly docked trade ship a small boat could be see making it's way toward the docks of Tortuga, it's only passenger starved and soaked but still singing to a burial tune set by his lute.

Though, the closer to dock the boat it came, the jollier the music got until it was a ballad about life when the passenger set foot on the dock of Tortuga.

-Sink into the blue
I knew I had run dry of my luck
So I saw it me cue
To try to reach Tortuga's dock

Upon finishing his song, Everdawn nonchalantly headed toward the nearest bar, one of the many that fill up the town of Tortuga but one of the few to employ a pirate and gunner in honest work

Only to collapse as soon as he was in the door

(Yay, Everdawn stumbled into the only bar with another PC in it, what a coincidence :smalltongue:)

A man from behind the bar with black hair an abnormally white skin hops the bar with a bottle of rum in his hand and runs over to Everdawn You all right?

[Mina Kobold]

Golden Bart drags himself up and hoarsely whispers

Water! An' food if ye have any.

The starved traveller lets a few coins dump into the man's hand as payment

[Creed]

Golden Bart drags himself up and hoarsely whispers

Water! An' food if ye have any.

The starved traveller lets a few coins dump into the man's hand as payment

Gotcha. Tha man stands back up and runs over to the bar. He picks up some water and (insert random food here). He brings it back over to the collapsed traveler.

[Mina Kobold]

Everdawn gulps down the food with a haste that almost causes him to choke on it and flushes it down with the water

Thank ye, me good man, I thought I was gone fer fer a moment.

He looks a bit better and tries to stand up but have to sit down on one of the chairs.

seems I'm not quite fresh yet, eh?

[Creed]

Everdawn gulps down the food with a haste that almost causes him to choke on it and flushes it down with the water

Thank ye, me good man, I thought I was gone fer fer a moment.

He looks a bit better and tries to stand up but have to sit down on one of the chairs.

seems I'm not quite fresh yet, eh?

Seems so. Anyhow, welcome to Tortuga. Anything else you need?

[Mina Kobold]

Well, I could use some money, almost out o' guineas, ye know

-Everdawn jokes

But I think I'll start with a mug o' rum an' a little rest, if that does not trouble ye?

[Creed]

Well, I could use some money, almost out o' guineas, ye know

-Everdawn jokes

But I think I'll start with a mug o' rum an' a little rest, if that does not trouble ye?

Not at all sir. The man says and walks over to the bar, retrieving a mug of rum and delivering it to the stranger.

[Callos_DeTerran]

There was a slight commotion from the doorway of the bar, men turning to look and see a most peculiar sight, that of the red-dressed Sybille carefully walking through the doorway backwards, making the sign of the cross fervently as she did. Just as abruptly, she spins about on her heel, looking at all those who stared at her as if perhaps they were the ones who were a bit off.

Feeling a tad awkward after that display, the woman saunters up through the mess of tables towards the bar, eying the barman with a roguish wink even as she looks for a mark. A mark for what became obvious as Sybille takes advantage of a distracted sailor and snatches his bottle of grog with sly certainty before giving a throaty chuckle.

In but a further moment she's slipped into a seat, tossing back some of the fiery liquor with a fierce scowl on her face before motioning for the man behind the counter.

"Oi! You! Yes, you! 'et over here!"

[Creed]

There was a slight commotion from the doorway of the bar, men turning to look and see a most peculiar sight, that of the red-dressed Sybille carefully walking through the doorway backwards, making the sign of the cross fervently as she did. Just as abruptly, she spins about on her heel, looking at all those who stared at her as if perhaps they were the ones who were a bit off.

Feeling a tad awkward after that display, the woman saunters up through the mess of tables towards the bar, eying the barman with a roguish wink even as she looks for a mark. A mark for what became obvious as Sybille takes advantage of a distracted sailor and snatches his bottle of grog with sly certainty before giving a throaty chuckle.

In but a further moment she's slipped into a seat, tossing back some of the fiery liquor with a fierce scowl on her face before motioning for the man behind the counter.

"Oi! You! Yes, you! 'et over here!"

The tall youth behind the bar walks down to her Something I can get you, ma'am? Well spoken for a guy in Tortuga, eh?

[Callos_DeTerran]

Well spoken enough that it leaves Sybille staring at him as if he'd grown a third head or begun to speak in tongues. The dreadfully pale woman shakes it off quickly though, reaching down to the red sash about her waist and snagging something from within it. But she keeps her fist clenched as she raises the hand, holding it in front of the youth's eyes before daring to reveal it.

With a flick of the wrist, she sends a gold coin spinning into the air, glittering enticingly in the light before it was snatched back up and rolled over her knuckles as if part of a game. But Sybille's blue eyes were fixated on the lad's as if searching for something.

"I need rum, good rum. And more..like a bath. And..." Now she looks about suspiciously before leaning over the counter towards him, "And I need words..words about any...disputably legal sailors looking for more of this."

She emphasizes the last word by pressing the doubloon into his hand, giving him a pointed look.

[Creed]

Well spoken enough that it leaves Sybille staring at him as if he'd grown a third head or begun to speak in tongues. The dreadfully pale woman shakes it off quickly though, reaching down to the red sash about her waist and snagging something from within it. But she keeps her fist clenched as she raises the hand, holding it in front of the youth's eyes before daring to reveal it.

With a flick of the wrist, she sends a gold coin spinning into the air, glittering enticingly in the light before it was snatched back up and rolled over her knuckles as if part of a game. But Sybille's blue eyes were fixated on the lad's as if searching for something.

"I need rum, good rum. And more..like a bath. And..." Now she looks about suspiciously before leaning over the counter towards him, "And I need words..words about any...disputably legal sailors looking for more of this."

She emphasizes the last word by pressing the doubloon into his hand, giving him a pointed look.

He reaches under the bar and pulls out a iron key and a flask. First room on the left is your room. He points down a hallway. As to sailors, you've come to the right man. He sweeps into a low bow Kane Blackite, at your service, Gunner of The late Hydra and adopted son of the late Green Will. He shoots Sybille a disarming smile. I'll see if I can find more sailors. He hops the bar and starts searching the tavern for old contacts from his years on the streets, getting word on available sailors of disputable morals.

[Mina Kobold]

Everdawn makes his way up to the bar and take a seat beside Sybille

That was quite a show ye pulled there, lady.

he smilingly extends a hand as if to shake hers before quickly pulling it back into his pocket and withdraw quite a few Shilling

Seems I have more than I thought, I could pay for yer rum too with this.

The look on his face shifts from telling Sybille that he certainly knew where those money came from too a look of challenge

But I'm not sure ye could take it, I hear this stuff could send a grown rat under the table after a few kegs

The young man jokes.

[Callos_DeTerran]

The shipless captain eyes the stranger with a sort of...content wariness, someone used to this sort of stuff especially after she went flashing money around like she had. So, while she thought, one hand slips the key up her sleeve and Sybille rises from her chair with a bit of a wobble in her posture.

"Rum ain't been brewed that Ah cannot drink." she boasts with a hint of a French accent in her voice before sweeping into a low bow. "But I beg pardon. Ah have a date with hot water and an inch less of dirt."

Better be hot for a doubloon...

[Creed]

The shipless captain eyes the stranger with a sort of...content wariness, someone used to this sort of stuff especially after she went flashing money around like she had. So, while she thought, one hand slips the key up her sleeve and Sybille rises from her chair with a bit of a wobble in her posture.

"Rum ain't been brewed that Ah cannot drink." she boasts with a hint of a French accent in her voice before sweeping into a low bow. "But I beg pardon. Ah have a date with hot water and an inch less of dirt."

Better be hot for a doubloon...

You will find it hot enough, hows 9000 degrees!

Kane is shifting through the crowd, putting a few drinks on his tab, and gathering a crack crew.

[IcemanJRC]

Sitting in a pub is a French man, of weathered face and inviting eye. He sips a mug and reads a book. His reputation as the greatest gunsmith in South France, and possibly all of France, is probably gonna be known by a few, so you can say hi.

[Creed]

Sitting in a pub is a French man, of weathered face and inviting eye. He sips a mug and reads a book. His reputation as the greatest gunsmith in South France, and possibly all of France, is probably gonna be known by a few, so you can say hi.

A tall young man slides through the crowd to you. You new to Tortuga, sir? You just seem slightly out of place.

[IcemanJRC]

The man marks his page and looks up,
Ah, yez. I am Andre Bart. The best gunzmith en South Franze. I'm on a paid trip for vacazion. How may help you?

He seems to have a bit of an accent. And he looks like he'd be willing to actually help you if you asked.

[Creed]

The man marks his page and looks up,
Ah, yez. I am Andre Bart. The best gunzmith en South Franze. I'm on a paid trip for vacazion. How may help you?

He seems to have a bit of an accent. And he looks like he'd be willing to actually help you if you asked.

I was actually looking for a few sailors of questionable morals to form a crew for an employer. Would you be interested, Mr. Bart?

[IcemanJRC]

Qezshonal morals? I don't know? That zeemz lyke a bad idea. Why szhould I?
He looks like he;s contemplating it, perhaps just a little push?

[Creed]

Qezshonal morals? I don't know? That zeemz lyke a bad idea. Why szhould I?
He looks like he;s contemplating it, perhaps just a little push?

Because my employer is apparently one of the few pirates in these waters who can claim to have a fortune. With spoils, we'll be rich in weeks. Bluff check....

[IcemanJRC]

Because my employer is apparently one of the few pirates in these waters who can claim to have a fortune. With spoils, we'll be rich in weeks. Bluff check....

Eh, monyz are no conzern of mine.
He looks like he's more interested in less material things, like adventure.

[Creed]

Eh, monyz are no conzern of mine.
He looks like he's more interested in less material things, like adventure.

But it'll be fun!!! Umm...it will be adventurous, and on the high seas!

[IcemanJRC]

But it'll be fun!!! Umm...it will be adventurous, and on the high seas!

I can zee what I can do to 'elp.
He smiles.

[Creed]

I can zee what I can do to 'elp.
He smiles.

Great. Meet at the docks in a few hours. he meanders off toward the rooms and knocks on the first door on the left. Ma'am, I've gotten your crew together.

[Mina Kobold]

Everdawn bottoms down the last of his rum and spots Andre Bart.

Hello there, ye seem familiar, yer a gunsmith or something?

He looks a tiny bit less sober now.

[Crahen]

OOC: This is an opening post fight with an NPC ship. Zarah asked me to post first, so there's no interaction with other players yet. Sorry for the length. :smalltongue:

The howling wind swept across the deck, catching the sails - and any weakling men unable to keep their balance. The moon lit the heavy clouds, making them appear an eerie blanket in this damned night. The thunder and sporadic lightning were almost indistinguishable from the roar of the waves and the blasts of the cannons - the rain dropped from the heavens, connecting the sea and the firmament in a transitory, thick ligament of water.

The imposing man oversaw everything from the aft deck. His feline nails dug into the forerail, anchoring him to the rocking ship. The deluge of seawater and precipitation saturated him, darkening his vivid robes. Before him, the rats ran up and down the ropes, loaded the cannons, and reeled in the sails. They were too slow.

The brig floating several hundred feet off starboard was Deadwind's target tonight. It contained the next shipment of vermin.

"Bring about! Prepare chain-shot! Ship not can escape!" Wushir barked, his voice somehow coming clearly over the din. His eyes shone with fury at his dissatisfaction at the crew. "Do, or your souls forfeit!"

Slowly, the Lady's Gambit lurched to the right, pushing the resisting waves out of its berth. It was faster than the targeted brig, and would soon overtake it. Some pirates went for treasure - not Deadwind. His goal was much different.

Wushir unclenched his fists from the railing and came down the slippery stairs, being sure to glare at each crewman he passed. No one was able to return his stare. He approached the main battery of cannon. "You, when I say, fire at ship. Do not, until I say, fire!" He screeched at the "men" manning the weapons.

A crest of water reached over the ship, sweeping through the deck and washing over the other side. Wushir clung onto the rail as the ship listed to the right. The energy of the wave caught one of the seamen off his feet, driving him above and over the rail. He vainly clung for a moment, his eyes connecting with Wushir's. The man's right-hand trembled, wanting desperately to reach out to the ship for help. But he was too afraid of the Magician to dare offer his hand, even when death imminently awaited him. As the next wave came, he lost his grip and plunged into the grave waters below.

Wushir barely noticed the event. As the ship's keel once again righted itself in the ocean, he flew away from the side of the ship and approached a small alcove, adjacent to his cabin and only a few steps below the main deck. Wushir knew from ritual where to go. He approached a wooden pen and pulled a trapped gull from its enclosure, breaking its neck before the fowl could squawk. He produced a small knife from within his robes, swiftly dividing the bird into its constituent portions. He dunked the leg and wing bones into a closed vat of scouring liquid, cleaning the bones and bleaching them. He then scooped out the bones, placing them into a mortar and surrounding them with the gull's raw entrails. Wushir was skilled at cutting, and the whole act took less than two minutes. It was a science.

Wushir took a handful of desiccant and powdered the mixture with it, drying the bones and entrails. He then scattered a heating powder; he felt his hands scream in agony as he touched the material, but he had developed a callous to it. He finally added a touch of liquid, and the entire mixture became hot quickly. Wushir's lips pulled in a ghost of a smile.

He took the mortar and raced out of the alcove back into the raging tempest. They were just about upon the brig now. The alchemist's eyes looked down at the mixture. The entrails had been all but consumed, and the bones were beginning to brown with heat. "Prepare!" Wushir yelled to the gun crews.

The two ships were only separated by thirty-five yards, or so. He could see the men on the other ship now. They were running up and down the battlements and manning the cannons. All life was so similar, and near-universally pathetic.

The brig's cannons fired, hitting the Lady's Gambit above the waterline. It was practically no damage. Deadwind's crew expectantly waited on Wushir, but dared not look at him. They were used to this procedure.

Wushir waited for the opportune time to fire. His eyes did not leave the mortar. The bones began hissing, the last remanents of elasticity being scorched out. Then, simultaneously, they all splintered.

"You now fire!" Wushir screamed immediately. "Now!"

The chains erupted from the cannons, swinging in their orbits through the air, before they connected with the brig's sails. The fabric was ripped effortlessly, and the central mast began to collapse upon itself.

Wushir gently put the bowl in a holder. The brig slowed to a halt, propelled now only by the sea and inertia. The Lady's Gambit closed the distance between the two, coming closer and closer until the two ships were parallel and separated only by a small breadth. "Draw sword!" He seethed. "We board ship!"

Deadwind would be pleased.

[IcemanJRC]

Everdawn bottoms down the last of his rum and spots Andre Bart.

Hello there, ye seem familiar, yer a gunsmith or something?

He looks a tiny bit less sober now.

Zes I am. Andre Bart, Bezt gunzmith en Szouth Franze.

[Mina Kobold]

Knew I'd seen ye somewhere, think ye made something fer a relative.

So what's yer doing in such a place as Tortuga? Doesn't seem like the place fer a goody-two-shoes gunsmith.

A humorous hint can be seen in the young man's eyes.

[IcemanJRC]

Knew I'd seen ye somewhere, think ye made something fer a relative.

So what's yer doing in such a place as Tortuga? Doesn't seem like the place fer a goody-two-shoes gunsmith.

A humorous hint can be seen in the young man's eyes.

I 'ave come on vacazion.
He smiles as he drinks some stuff.

[Callos_DeTerran]

Sybille

Hot water pooled in the large wooden tub, slopping about messily with the slightest movement but that was of less concern to the woman lounging in it then the most important fact. It eased the strains and stresses of sea travel, the heat slowly leeching the strains from her body even as a luxurious groan came from her.

Ahhh, heaven..enjoy it while it lasts, eh? she thinks to herself, eyes drifting shut as steam billowed in the air above her. One hand fished the flask out from the water, popping the cork off for a quick swig before being replaced and set adrift in the bath water. Reluctantly Sybille grabbed the block of soap-like substance and ragged piece of cloth, scraping herself clean of dirt, grime, salt, tar, and all the other nuances of a nautical life before hauling herself up out of the tub.

Soon the crimson garments were pulled on once more, adjusting the red bandana over her forehead once more before giving a salacious wink at...nothing. She might have been out at sea for too long, just maybe.

Especially considering her admittedly lunatic plan if a crew was able to pane out in Tortuga...after all, first she'd have to get a ship, though an armed crew of pirates would certainly help in such an endeavor. And there was certainly plenty of ships in the harbor...speaking of which, the pirate woman opened the window leading into the room and pulled her soaked body up unto the window sill with one foot propped up on the window ledge. She looked out over the despicable port city with a content grin, all to happy to be back in a place she knew and loved.

[Creed]

Sybille

Hot water pooled in the large wooden tub, slopping about messily with the slightest movement but that was of less concern to the woman lounging in it then the most important fact. It eased the strains and stresses of sea travel, the heat slowly leeching the strains from her body even as a luxurious groan came from her.

Ahhh, heaven..enjoy it while it lasts, eh? she thinks to herself, eyes drifting shut as steam billowed in the air above her. One hand fished the flask out from the water, popping the cork off for a quick swig before being replaced and set adrift in the bath water. Reluctantly Sybille grabbed the block of soap-like substance and ragged piece of cloth, scraping herself clean of dirt, grime, salt, tar, and all the other nuances of a nautical life before hauling herself up out of the tub.

Soon the crimson garments were pulled on once more, adjusting the red bandana over her forehead once more before giving a salacious wink at...nothing. She might have been out at sea for too long, just maybe.

Especially considering her admittedly lunatic plan if a crew was able to pane out in Tortuga...after all, first she'd have to get a ship, though an armed crew of pirates would certainly help in such an endeavor. And there was certainly plenty of ships in the harbor...speaking of which, the pirate woman opened the window leading into the room and pulled her soaked body up unto the window sill with one foot propped up on the window ledge. She looked out over the despicable port city with a content grin, all to happy to be back in a place she knew and loved.

Just then, Kane Blackite's voice penetrates the door, accompanied by a knock. Ma'am? You're crew is prepared.

[Callos_DeTerran]

Sybille

The knock almost has Sybille falling out of the window and into the mud in surprise, though luckily she managed to catch herself in time and spun about into the room. Of course, first she grabbed one of her flintlocks and loaded it up, just in case, but in a moment she's at the door and pulling it open just an inch or so.

"Ah didn't zink ye would ve back so zoon..How'd ye find da men so quick?" She asks suspiciously and though Kane couldn't see it, a flintlock was pressed against the door in the general area of his body. The hammer was pulled back and one pale finger toyed with the trigger even as haunted eyes glanced about uneasily. "C'mon then! Unravel yer forked tongue and speak!"

[Mina Kobold]

I 'ave come on vacazion.
He smiles as he drinks some stuff.

Everdawn seems to be a bit depressed at the moment, even after a mug of rum

Why is it so boring! Let's have a song to cheer up ye lazy scum!

And that is exactly what he does, he grabs his lute and sing a song, encouraging people to sing along

(As I have limited knowledge of 18th century music you'll have to imagine the song)

[Creed]

Sybille

The knock almost has Sybille falling out of the window and into the mud in surprise, though luckily she managed to catch herself in time and spun about into the room. Of course, first she grabbed one of her flintlocks and loaded it up, just in case, but in a moment she's at the door and pulling it open just an inch or so.

"Ah didn't zink ye would ve back so zoon..How'd ye find da men so quick?" She asks suspiciously and though Kane couldn't see it, a flintlock was pressed against the door in the general area of his body. The hammer was pulled back and one pale finger toyed with the trigger even as haunted eyes glanced about uneasily. "C'mon then! Unravel yer forked tongue and speak!"

I grew up here ma'am. My contacts know every pirate on the island, and every wretch with no ship.

[13_CBS]

North American East Coast, off of Massachusetts Bay

For Bartholomew Young, gunner of the pirate ship Merchant of Milan, today was the worst day in his life. The burning wood of the ship does little to warm him as he lies bleeding to death, watching the ship that he once called home list and sink into the blue waters of the Atlantic, watching the men he once called brothers go to Davy Jones' Locker. With his last breath, he looks towards the colossal treasure ship that had sunk the Merchant and curses it.


For Duke Adair Ironhand, Lord Admiral of the Atlantis Pirate Hunters, however, today was an excellent day. It had been far too long since he last been in battle, and he had been worried about losing his edge, so he was quite glad for the chance to keep himself in tip top shape. He rests his hands on the broad beams of the Relentless' sides, leans over and breathed in the salty air, the smell of gunpowder, the metallic scent of blood. He drinks in the relative silence after a battle, a sign of a job well done.

The quiet is broken, however, by a sudden hand that grabs at his throat from overboard. Before he could be pulled off, he seizes the edges of the ship. A pirate, bloody and breathing hard, glares at him with burning hate and screams as he tried to shove a rusted dagger at Adair's face.

Another man might have met an inglorious end right then and there, but Adair was not the leader of the world's most powerful pirate hunting organization for nothing. He raises his metal fist to deflect the dagger, digs his steel leg into the wooden deck for leverage, then bodily lifts the pirate with one arm over his head and smashes him into the ground.

"Adair Ironhand!" the pirate coughs through the blood in his throat. "I'll--"

Adair does't even bother to listen as he lifts his metal leg and smashes it into the man's neck, breaking it. He then tosses the lifeless body overboard. Several marines scrambled over to the site of the incident, but Adair waves them off.

Adair snaps his fingers, and an aide appears at his side with a clean towel and a bowl of water, with which Adair cleaned off the filth from his hands. He called for the ship's captain.

"Captain Bernard," he says in a voice not unlike the pouring of a bag of gravel. "Lay anchor. Let the men rest. We set sail for Gibraltar in the morning."

"Oui, capitan." Captain Bernard turns to shout orders to the rest of the crew.

Adair returns to his rather Spartan quarters, consisting of only a common sailor's cot, a desk with a candle, and a coathanger, and calls for a meal of sea biscuits (sans maggots), salted pork that was practically leather, and cheese that you could hammer a nail in with--a common sailor's dinner. Before he could begin his luxurious meal, though, there is a knock on the door.

"Lord Admiral?"

"Aye?"

"I just received a report from Rear Admiral Nueva, from the First Fleet."

More spoiled nobles whining about life on the high seas, no doubt. Adair sighs and puts down his fork and knife. "I'm about to eat. Can it wait?"

"If you wish, my lord, but...the Rear Admiral did send it by priority post."

"Fine. What is it?"

"It is..." The aide reads through the message once more. "...about the sighting of the Lady's Gambit."

Adair froze for a moment, then slowly stood up and opened the door. He towered over the slip of a man that was his aide.

"My...my lord?"

"Continue."

"I...uh...yes, the, the Lady's Gamit, which we sunk years ago off the coast of Jamaica, has been reportedly seen in the region once more. Local merchants have been saying that the ship is crewed by dead men, and--"

"Dead men?"

"Yes, lord."

"Hmph. But it is the Gambit, for certain?"

"It seems so, lord."

Adair's weathered visage breaks into an awful smile. "Good. Tell Captain Bernard to belay my previous orders. Set sail for Jamaica."

"B-but sir, what about the ambassadors? They've requested for you to return to Europe--"

"Tell them that there's an emergency meeting with the Fleet Admirals in the Caribbean. If they keep asking, delay them."

"I...yes lord."

Adair walks out onto the deck, his dinner forgotten. There was no need for it when his other hunger was about to be sated.

The Relentless was heading to the Caribbean.