William Brand

Your pardon, sah. I slipped into my most suspicious of moods.

Why do you ask...? Where do your loyalties lie? Who has paid you to discover our inner circle...? Come, sah, we will have your answers!

July 31, 1704 - In the jungles of Martinique Nearly eight bells of the Mid Watch It was a warm night in the jungles of Martinique. Warm and alive. The jungle teemed with life of all varieties. Insects, snakes, lizards and wild birds all moving about in the half light of a creeping and purple pre-dawn. Everywhere there was life. Colorful. Beautiful. Natural. Among all of these natural wonders of the jungle danced God's least natural creation, born the only son of Cormac and Aingeal Tenille. Had anyone come upon this reedy and ghastly performer, what a sight they would have discovered. The fishmonger's son danced among the dark leaves of Martinique, naked but for a shoes and stockings. His two tone flesh, half sunburnt tan and half codfish, belied a long life in the sun, though he seemed to be more in his element lately. His face was a bruise of blisters and one ear was badly abused, though he smiled with the wide abandon of the lunatic. He limped a little, for reasons unapparent, and one hand was stained with veins that spoke of an infection. His hair, above and below was matted from the days unwashed and he was missing a fingernail, which made even his good hand look malformed. Tawny paused in his dancing to pop a blister on his face with the care of one performing the act on stage, and indeed he was, for a little girl watched from her bonds near a palm tree. She stared in horrid fascination at this half burned, half bleached creature which kept her captive in the darks recesses of the island. She wanted to scream. She had never in her life wanted to scream quite so much. The desire was so strong that it continually crept up in her throat like a bile of noise trying to usher forth from her. She could taste the terror in the back of her throat with every passing moment. It was a fountain of pure and utter horror that she continuously swallowed again and again and again. Tawny had left her there tied to the tree most of the day and night, all the while speaking to himself and her in a kind of mad soliloquy. When he had gone earlier in the day, she had prayed for destruction, happy to die rather than see that scarred and oozing face once more, but Tawny had returned. He smiled at her as the newest blister ran down his face and neck. The burns inflicted upon him by the ship's mess mate had destroyed a good part of the already awful features of his face. He had lost part of an eyelid to the searing solution and had very nearly lost the eye itself. One nostril was enflamed to twice the normal size it should have been and his ear, cut nearly in half by Robert Thatcher, was entirely the wrong color. "Stop yer starin', gerl. Tawny's not so easily flattered by attentions..." he cooed. "Tawny's without a comb and mirror, he is...but this here ear...ohhhhh." he shook his head. "Tawny's looks 'ill be wasted." Tawny made a 'tsk tsk' sound and shook his head again. The little just girl stared at him. He was naked, and this alone might have scared a girl of her years, but she had seen her share of the human form in all the many forms of it, raised a slave as she was. It wasn't his nudity, but his proximity, and that dripping face that frightened her. The damage done by Constance had also robbed Tawny of his mouth on one side, for the lips were gone at the corner there, replaced by bad teeth, puss, drool and not a little blood. 'It's the face of death and madness', she thought, though she thought this in her own tongue and with words more terrifying. "Tawny best fix this ear...eh gerl? Fix it fer good...aye. Fer good." He tittered and drew out a wicked looking instrument. Then, before she could grasp what he was about, he shaved off his own ear in one quick flick. Then he screamed and she joined him in screaming, letting loose the terror she had tried so hard to keep until the last. Christopher Daniels would have understood.

You trace the design onto the natural colored canvas and paint everything but the design black. The bones and other symbols are left natural.

I've done several flags this way, including the Pyrates of Treasure Cove's ensign... And the Weltanders flag...

We'll need a fiddler.

Wow, that's a really cool flag! Why thank you. I've been gone long enough not to notice the activity on this thread. There are some fine new additions.

I'm glad to see so many fellow pirates getting into the spirit of the thing. I expect that the atmosphere of the camps will be such that all involved will take home such pictures and stories as to make the Pub jealous. I hope the weather is fair and the attendence large.

Not for me this year, I'm afraid. I'll be doing well to keep everything in order and to finish my most current costume. Besides, Mike isn't going, and I would need Mike to really sell the fop. He can lisp like nobody's business.

Mike and I have discussed dressing as fops for years. He would go by his middle name of Francis and I would probably be Willy, though we would pronounce it with the proper emphasis... Ffffronssis and Willay.

Well...there may be some unforeseen pitfalls in accepting a 'free drink' from a pirate. Surely there is a parable or two waiting to be born from such an offer. Pirates bearing gifts and all that that implies. There are too many cut-purses about.

Why, Miss Gage, it is a profound honor to meet the wife of our own Lazarus. Welcome to the Pub. Allow me the honor of breaking tradition by buying you a round.

Welcome aboard, Miss Maloney.

I'm talking about the tag along the side... Example: Your information reads as follows. Capt. Sterling Posted: Jun 25 2007, 06:52 PM Pyrate Legend Group: Members Posts: 3879 Member No.: 2648 Joined: 2-January 06 See where it says 'Group: Members'? Some fellows on the pub belong to 'Group: Captains'. There are six members of the Pub who belong to the group 'Captains', namely blackjohn, Cap'nPern, Duncan McGuyver, hurricane, Master Studley and Redd Oktober. I was just wondering how that particular designation is handled, for while some of these men do command groups as captains, I'm not sure that all of them do. You for example, my dear Captain, are in the group 'members', as am I.

And the "captains" question leads to another question. What designates someone as a captain in the member groups?

Done. Actually...damn. I get paraphrased too often, but thank you.

For questions on clothing as they pertain to PIP, I would see the related threads under the Pirates in Paradise forum as well.

First, let me clarify something. This thread was started to ask a few straight forward questions and that is all. Mod or Admin bashing is not the intent of my original questions. I just wanted to see if a few things could be changed. Small things.

"I've been asking for access to the Tales of the Ghost Ship Watch Dog forum for almost 2 years."

Aye... ...and that's okay, but I'd still prefer to have it removed if it can't be utilized by any of us.

Your quote option is broken. "You can be invited, but you may also ask to join the crew." You lucky dog, you. You have a working subforum with threads and everything. I've been asking for access to the Tales of the Ghost Ship Watch Dog forum for almost 2 years.

You see, there are several reasons why the subforum for The Travels of the Ghost Ship Watch Dog needs to be changed, but the tagline is one of the main ones. It is wrong. It states that "you must be invited to join the crew to post on the Watch Dog" which is not true. You can be invited, but you may also ask to join the crew. You don't have to wait for an invitation. We get volunteers quite regularly. Some one must be working on the issue as we post, because the threads are now gone. Only the The Travels of the Ghost Ship Watch Dog title and tagline remain.

One down. 4,585 to go. Of course, 3,000 of those are spammers.

Niiiiice.

I'm holding a small dinner party on the Kate and everyone is invited. Please RSVP me if you would like to attend.