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Yarr there be boasting to do!


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Aye there be tales of grandure to be told over my table this day. I shall have me mate bring the rum and we loose our Debochery. Raise high your glass ya scurvey dogs and tell your tales to all. For I be feelin genorous this day an offeren me own drink to ye! But iffen you take glass and not a storie have , I shall loose my dogs or war!

So come one come all and hear the tales of the dread Pirates! :lol:

The night was warm that mid summers eve, too warm. I was in me cabin restin me bones from the day before. The sweet trade had been good to us so far. Up above midships the two mates on gaurd watch where heavy into drink as was most of the crew that night.

Now I bid the rest of ye to either finish this tidbit or to come wit yer own.

theres drink to be had and bards to hear!

:lol::lol::lol::lol::lol:

So please drink wit me and enjoy my table!

Capt. Tark

:lol::lol:

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As I climbed to the deck, I heard the rough snores o' the crew, disposed however at their guns, as these was waters we knew to be rich with our prey. Aye, and the merchants knew it, too.

She only carried six-pounders, and but five to a side, but they was sufficient, and with Mike Bollard as gunner to check the layin', we'd iron aplenty to disconcert the West Indiamen while we pulled in close enough to board.

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The slumbering crew were cast in a deathly pall by the moon. I quietly worked forward looking for any hint of wind to give relief from the cursed heat. In the distance, a shadow was cast on the looking glass surface.

Doc Wiseman - Ship's Physician, Stur.. er... Surgeon Extrodinaire and general scoundrel.

Reluctant Temporary Commander of Finnegan's Wake

Piracy- Hostile Takeover without the Messy Paperwork

We're not Pirates; we're independent maritime property redistribution specialists.

Member in good standing Persian Gulf Yacht Club, Gulf of Sidra Yacht Club and the Greater Beruit Rod & Gun Club.

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I reached down to my side to grab my glass but felt nothing other than my breeches. For I had stripped My belt and pouch before I Turned to the bottle. I tryed to rouse one of me mates but to no avail, drunken stuper had taken its tole. I turned quickly to go back to me cabin and get the glass.

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I pushed open the door of the cabin and at my back came a frightful cold wind. Swirling around it snuffed the fire out of the candles and sent the ship into a rank blackness as the moon was swallowed by a thick fog. I heard the banshee whistle of a canonball in the distance, but ne'er heard it touch neither wood nor water.

A pyrate's life for me.

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A cold green fog trailed 'long the deck, curled round me boots, then played in the shadows o' the doorway. Watching the whisps, me eyes burned trying to see the figures dancing around.

There in the moonlight stood a figure, with ribs of cobwebs an eyes o burnin coals. I wished me blade was in me hand, or least a 'lock..

Pirate Lass with sass, brass, a cutlass, an a nice *ss. Capt of the FOOLS GOLD PIRATES

BLAST BREAST CANCER! GET A MAMMOGRAM AND SAVE YOUR TREASURED CHEST:

http://www.myspace.c...iratesthinkpink

http://www.myspace.c...oolsgoldpirates

CAPT OF THE ONLY PYRITE SHIP AFLOAT: THE FOOL'S GOLD- look for us and Captain Merrydeath on facebook!

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Eyes burning, I tried to reach for me blade resting on the table. The green fog had lashed me to the deck; it's icy fingers slowly closing about me body. Try as I might, I couldn't avert my eyes from the burning gaze of the vaporous intruder.

Doc Wiseman - Ship's Physician, Stur.. er... Surgeon Extrodinaire and general scoundrel.

Reluctant Temporary Commander of Finnegan's Wake

Piracy- Hostile Takeover without the Messy Paperwork

We're not Pirates; we're independent maritime property redistribution specialists.

Member in good standing Persian Gulf Yacht Club, Gulf of Sidra Yacht Club and the Greater Beruit Rod & Gun Club.

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I felt the metal and wood of my flintlock beneath my grasping fingers. I always kept it primed and ready. Swiveling in the dark I shot at where the figure had stood. But the in the flash of gunpowder, it was no more. "Capn'! Cap'n," I heard my first mate call, "What are ye firin' at? Ye near left a hole in me sorry head!"

A pyrate's life for me.

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I remained hard rooted to the spot. My mate's words washed over me like so much mist as I stood transfixed by the fog. Abscently, I thumbed the hammers of my double barreled wheellock. It gave a satisfying click which brought me round to meself and I straightened to cry out me first orders...

 

image.jpeg.6e5f24495b9d06c08a6a4e051c2bcc99.jpeg

 

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Rouse the crew and call to quarters, I ordered. I reloaded me gun and strapped on me swordbelt. I gripped me sword hilt hard to comfort me that it was there. Before I headed back on deck, I also grabbed a bottle and drank back hard the hot burning liquid. I welcomed the burn. It assured me that I was awake and that everything now was real. I bellowed as I went on deck and roused me crew to thier guns..........

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They scattered like bilge rats. Knowing his place, each man was to his duty. I smiled at the speed to which they took flight to orders. 'Twas a sight I had grown accustomed to over the years, but it satisfied me no less than the first time I had ordered a crew to the guns.

 

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As the lads made their way aloft, dozens of pairs of bleary, rum sodden eyes looked in all directions for our "Visitor". The gun crews loaded and waited for a target, any target to appear.

Doc Wiseman - Ship's Physician, Stur.. er... Surgeon Extrodinaire and general scoundrel.

Reluctant Temporary Commander of Finnegan's Wake

Piracy- Hostile Takeover without the Messy Paperwork

We're not Pirates; we're independent maritime property redistribution specialists.

Member in good standing Persian Gulf Yacht Club, Gulf of Sidra Yacht Club and the Greater Beruit Rod & Gun Club.

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"What be we lookin' fer, cap'n?" my first mate ask as he scurried to my side.

"A red ship," I answered. My mate turned his head toward the mast.

"Lookout!" he boomed to a man in the riggings.

"Aye?" came the reply.

"What see ye upon the water?"

"Nothin' but black and still!"

I growled in my throat at the slit-eyed look my first mate gave me.

A pyrate's life for me.

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Black and still, and nothing but calm everywhere. But, it wasn't calm. There was something in the wind. Nothing to see, but you could very much feel. THERE.. cried a man at his gun. He leaned over the rail and pointed into the darkness. From aloft the call came in even louder..... sail ahead......Each man strained his eyes, but, it didn't take long. A grand war ship loomed into sight. Out of the darkness and enveloped in a mist of red she sailed.

The deck was awash with activity. Each man readying his gun. Hatches being closed and latched.. a table below made ready for the surgeon....etc.... The men dropped like spiders from thier watches and took thier positions on deck. Shot and powder was brought out and made ready. Matches were lit and placed by each gun.....

I stood there looking through the glass for a beter look at the ship. She was easily our equal or better. I searched for what proper action to take.......................

B)

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At first I gave no order as I surveyed her beams and rigging. She was a large ship but the eyeglass showed me she was riding high in the water and freshing away under full sail. I was hard pressed not to notice her bloodied hue and me legs, though sea worthy these many years, quelled a little on the deck. Fear? Excitement? Maybe both a warranted.

I passed the glass to the mate. He gazed a long time in silence.

"I can't see a soul on 'er cap'n."

 

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"Souls be in short supply on that ship, I think, and any thing moving is not of this world.."

Old Baptista kissed his medal, while a few of the mates mumbled long forgotten prayers to their gods.

The oddest thing about the ship was the silence. Even the gulls and waves seemed to mind it being here. The only sounds were of our ship, the creak of the wood, the rustle of the sails.

Pirate Lass with sass, brass, a cutlass, an a nice *ss. Capt of the FOOLS GOLD PIRATES

BLAST BREAST CANCER! GET A MAMMOGRAM AND SAVE YOUR TREASURED CHEST:

http://www.myspace.c...iratesthinkpink

http://www.myspace.c...oolsgoldpirates

CAPT OF THE ONLY PYRITE SHIP AFLOAT: THE FOOL'S GOLD- look for us and Captain Merrydeath on facebook!

merrydeathsigsmall.jpg

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It floated nearer, unmanned with darkened decks. The sails were slack as no wind dared bluster. The men watched it with hollow eyes and even the bravest of them shivered a little as the night air turned a sour cold.

"Ready the hooks," I said, my own breath catching in my throat.

The men did not move.

"Prepare to board, you dogs!" My voice boomed across the deck.

The reverie broken, the men gave a low cheer and gathered their wits, cutlasses and locks.

A pyrate's life for me.

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Aboard we went. But ever so cautiously. The wind felt ever so stronger as we made our way round the abandoned deck. I sound teased me ears, slightly but present. At first me men heard not a thing, but then they all claimed to be haunted by it. It was a gasping sound and it got stronger as we began to explore the levels below.

<span style='font-size:21pt;line-height:100%'>Have Parrot Bay, will travel.

WILL SHARE TOO!!!</span>

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As we surveyed below decks, twer nary a sign o life. No fire in the stove, no food stuffs in the mess, no trunks or hammocks, not even a bilge rat to be seen. The crew berth was a cold as winter's night. Yet every where the eerie sound filled me ears.

Doc Wiseman - Ship's Physician, Stur.. er... Surgeon Extrodinaire and general scoundrel.

Reluctant Temporary Commander of Finnegan's Wake

Piracy- Hostile Takeover without the Messy Paperwork

We're not Pirates; we're independent maritime property redistribution specialists.

Member in good standing Persian Gulf Yacht Club, Gulf of Sidra Yacht Club and the Greater Beruit Rod & Gun Club.

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The sound was getting into my head, the breathing sound loud in my ears. Old Baptista was murmuring prayers in Spanish, but they seemed to get sucked into the quiet..

As Marley walked forward, a round bead fell from his shirt tie, and stopped as soon as it hit the deck. No roll, no spin, no bounce. All eyes were on it, expecting it to roll under a coil of rope or to an edge.

His hair stood up on his neck, as the ship rolled a bit, but the buttton stayed put. He gulped, then stepped over it. It belonged to the ship now..

Pirate Lass with sass, brass, a cutlass, an a nice *ss. Capt of the FOOLS GOLD PIRATES

BLAST BREAST CANCER! GET A MAMMOGRAM AND SAVE YOUR TREASURED CHEST:

http://www.myspace.c...iratesthinkpink

http://www.myspace.c...oolsgoldpirates

CAPT OF THE ONLY PYRITE SHIP AFLOAT: THE FOOL'S GOLD- look for us and Captain Merrydeath on facebook!

merrydeathsigsmall.jpg

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I heard a low moan. There in the corner, where I swear I had looked before but seen nought, was a child no older than my own cabin boy. His face was an ashen grey and his eyes were small blackened pools like the dark center of a flintlock barrel. My crew turned slowly to follow my gaze.

"Who are ye, son?" I asked.

He looked through me and did not answer or move.

"Are ye deaf, boy? Who is yer captain?"

A pyrate's life for me.

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