Ransom

I can only speak for myself, so here goes. I'm sure there is some PMing between players—I've done a bit, but it wasn't about plot—but most often it seems to be more a matter of "roll with it." It's kinda left up to each person as to how they want to get involved. You can put yourself in someone's path, pretend to know someone from before they arrived at Port Royal, stumble onto something, etc. It took me awhile to decide how I wanted to interact with the others, then before I could decide, I got shanghied into a tavern brawl! That was fun. Best advice I can give is, as this is my first time at role-playing, watch the story line, see where you might fit in. Then dive in, the water's fine. BTW, there is a character bio joint thead for Port Royal you might want to check out, which will give you backgrounds on some of the characters being played. See you in PR soon! The more the merrier.

Jimmy, the first out of the boat, stopped in his tracks once he reached the beach. "Holy Mary mother of God!" Africa made some pagan sign of protection, while Ioan gave a mumbled, "Shite." I'd seen a lot during my six years on the sea, but the sight of Killingsworth tied to a tree, his body beaten and his chest burned with a brand, made my blood run cold. Overhead, crows and seagulls hovered, screaming at our interruption. "No, Mr. Killingsworth, you're not in hell, but you came close." I turned to Ioan. "Cut him down. And have a care, we don't know what other injuries he may be suffering." Ioan eyed the man with discust. "He's a killer. Why not leave him to the gulls?" I closed the gap between us, then slaped him hard across the face. "Do as you're ordered, God Dammit, or you'll take his place!" Africa came to stand protectively at my side. Ioan slipped a knife from his belt, hesitated, as if he couldn't decide whether to use it on me or Killingsworth, then stode to the tree and began to sever the ropes binding the man. Once free, with a gutteral moan, Killingsworth sank to the ground unconcience. "Get him to the boat." Ioan took the man's wrists while Africa took his ankles. Jimmy ran ahead to steady the boat. When Killingsworth was settled, with Africa to support his head, Jimmy and I pushed the boat out, then jumped in. Ioan, Jimmy and I took up oars. Wtih sarcasm, Ioan asked, "What'll we do with him?" "Take him to the Rakehell. Then I'll decide," I shot back. The trip back to the ship was made in silence, but I could see the question on each face. "Why have you rescued a killer?" Why indeed, I mused, and continued to row.

Gives Lilly a big grin. "Well, I couldn't let you, the Captain and Aurora have all the fun, now could I?" Gives Jacky a little wink and takes a sip of champagne. "And yes, Mr. Tar and I seem to have hit an accord. Very enjoyable indeed. And trust me, Silky, I know exactly what I'm doing." Takes another sip of champagne. "Jacky, I'm not really very hungry, but a little appitizer might be nice. What are you in the mood for?"

"Yes, thank ye. Wit' or wit' out glasses?" Gives him an apraising look. "Your choice."

And a pretty face.

I was just about to settle in to what Goose had called a grilled chicken, when a frantic knock beat against the cabin door and Jimmy Cox called out. "Captain, come quick." "I pushed the plate away, stood, and flung the door open. "What?" The boy's eyes were like saucers. "I did like ya asked, and watched where the boat went. Out to another, but they didn't go far. One of the islands just outside the harbor. Then it were quiet for a time. Then...then there were this blood-chillin' scream." Pushing passed the boy, I ordered, "Get a boat in the water. Now!" A quick death by the grim reaper I could understand. Would be deserved. Conversly, if Killingsworth deserved hanging, then let him hang. But some small spark of my traditional English childhood could not condone torture. No doubt, I mused, a potentially fatal flaw in my character. As the sun crested the eastern horizon, the boat was in the water, Ioan, Africa and Jimmy at the oars.

I'm not sure what Tia would recommend, but I think you need to "get outa Dodge" before the mushroom cloud goes up! You're sitting at ground zero, mate.

The Big Bopper

Bats her Irish blues. "Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that, but the sash sounds lovely. Care for some champagne?'

"Of course you can buy me a drink. My favorite, if you don't mind. Champagne with a tot of tattoo. As for being a good samaritan, why, surely you would do me the same honor, should I be so in my cups...er, glasses...as to stumble into the Pub wearing naught but my birthday suit. But," Blushes, "I might need more than just a hat. Maybe a hat and a nice sash."

A fine, imposing figure you be, Captain. The black coat is my personal favorite! Cheers to Kass for all her hard work. And yours.

I stood at the rail of my ship, thinking about the day's, and night's, events. One murder, and one attempted, and as far as I knew, sucessful second murder. Then there was Mistress McKinney's distress over Killingsworth, who seemed to be at the eye of this storm and, according to my new aquaintance, Prof. Trilby, a man who murdered with impunity. Until today. What profit would Killingsworth gain by killing a maid and Captain Sterling? The maid, if she had rejected his advances as poor Louisa had done, I could understand. But Sterling? To the east, a pale, peachy hue pushed away the darkness and announced the coming of a new day. The harbor was quiet, the air still fresh with night's cool breeze. I took a deep breath, enjoying the rare moment of solitude. Then a large presence came up behind me. "Captain?" Africa's deep voice whispered. I turned. "Yes?" "A strange boat in the water. Jimmy say for you ta come see." He led me to the stern of the ship, where Jimmy stood looking out over the water. "There." The boy pointed. Slipping quiet as a toy over dark glass was a boat with two figures. One sat silent as the grim reaper, one hunched and hooded. Even in the poor light, I recognized the reaper, which made me think the hooded figure was Killingsworth. I feared the man would soon end up at the bottom of the harbor. "What's going on, do you think?' Jimmy asked. "Bad business, dat for sure," Africa said. "Yes," I replied. "Bad business indeed. Jimmy, use your good eyes and mark where they go." "Aye, Captain. What you plannin' on doin'?" "I don't know yet." I turned away from the stern and headed back to my cabin. "Africa, roust Goose. Have him bring me some tea and a plate of food." "Aye, Captain." I glanced back over my shoulder, wondering what grim fate waited for Mr. Killingsworth, then went below to eat the first meal I'd had in almost twelve hours—notwithstanding Trilby's Madiera cake and Port.

Professor Trilby rushed to the wall as the strange woman dropped over it to the street below. His first thought was to shout for the guards, but he hesitated. "Bloody woman," he grumbled, then stepped away from the ledge. No, he thought, he would not call the guards and have her arrested. In fact, he had enjoyed her company. "Must be getting soft in mae head." Besides, he was not in the habit of attracting unwanted attention to his house. Having the Governor's guards on his doorstep, and possibly searching his rooms, would not do at all. Adjusting his turban, which had fallen askew, he left the rooftop patio and descended the stairs to the lower floors. Cleopatra followed on silent paws. Sulfur still tainted the air. "Souris, God skin your hide, where are you?" There was no answer from the servant boy, so Trilby assumed he had not yet returned to the house. Exasperated, he peered into the study. The room was a disaster of broken glass, spilled chemicals, and a fluid, still hissing puddle on the floor, which was eating its way through the boards. Once again his experiment had not had the desired outcome. He picked up the ancient leather book, shook glass shards from its yellowed pages, and read the entry again, checking to see that all the ingredients had been correct, their measure accurate. Scratching his beard, he pondered aloud, "May hap it was the salamander tongue that was nae sae fresh."

Stares at empty rum bottle, my only consolation for not being at such a wonderful event. Scrolls through pictures again, shakes head at the unfairness of distance, time, and coinage, which prevents my own participation with such an amazing group. Crosses arms on desk, drops head, and sobs bitterly. You all looked magnificent, and I am so, so...so JEALOUS!

"Elvira, Elvira, how many times must you be told, not to leave this stuff around the Pub for mates t trip over?" Picks up head from the floor, and slaps it back on body. Gives face a good look, and frowns. "You look familier. Have I ...Oh, I remember. Hows the bum, mate?" Looks to Ray. "Better get this man a drink, before he loses his head again." "Enjoy the Pub, Ragin', or is it Robby, or is it Australian Terrier, I can't remember?" **Aside to Elvira** "Wipe you mouth, dear."

Err, guys, I was thinking brief, thumbnail sketches for quick reference. My dear Captain Sterling, I fear, if you continue in your current mode of verbosity, that by the time you list the rest of the crew under your command, the Archangel will need her own thread. Brevity, dear people, brevity, I beg you! Humbly, Ransom

This thread is for those currently playing in, or wishing to join the Port Royal role-playing thread. It gives quick biographies of the characters, both main, and supporting, that you might run into while in town! It is to help all of us keep track of who's who. NOTE: PORT ROYAL PLOT IDEAS AND CHARACTERS ARE COPYRIGHTED BY THOSE WHO HAVE CREATED THEM. NO ONE MAY USE THESE CHARACTERS WITHOUT THEIR CREATOR'S PERMISSION. RANSOM Female. Captain of the schooner Rakehell. Twenty something years old (This IS a fantasy, right!). Light red curly hair, Irish-blue eyes, 5' 6" boyish figure. Youngest daughter of landed gentry. Very good with rapier and knives. Tends to be sarcastic, and has quick fits of temper. IOAN Male. Currently first mate of the Rakehell. Welsh, dark curly hair, black eyes, 5' 10" and in mid-thirties. Suspicious nature, not given to loyalty. Ladies find him dangerously attractive. AFRICA Male former slave. Able seaman. Big, with some tattooing. Very loyal to Ransom. GOOSE Male. Ship's cook. Mid-thirties, skinny, with stringy blond hair. Named Goose not because he can cook one, but because he's as dim-witted as one. A sniveler with a good heart. JIMMY COX Male. Able seaman. English, about seventeen. Light brown hair, thin build. PROFESSOR ANGUS TRILBY Male. From Scotland. Short, stocky, with graying red beard and bushy eyebrows. Blustery nature, age mid-sixties. Dresses in long, tatty scholars's robe full of burn holes, and wears a Turkish turban to cover his bald head. A man of many mysteries. Keeps company with a cat named Cleopatra, and a Jamaican servant boy named Souris.

Okay, here's what I'll do. I'll start the thread. Each of us will have one post, listing current characters. As you add or subtract (kill off) characters, just go into "edit" and change that post.

Rather then attempt to PM everyone, why not just start a seperate thread? Maybe labled Port Royal Character Bio's—somethng to that effect? This would be only for bio's, not questions, such as this thread. That way it would be easy to click into, print, and use as a reference. It would also make it easy for characters to be added, and those of us playing multiply characters could add them at our leisure, without being burdened with a long project straight away. I don't think this list needs to contain the character's life story, just a quick description, age, maybe place of origin, and any quirks (Kilingsworth!) your character might have.

Tonight= BBQ grilled fresh tuna steaks. (It's good to be close to the coast!) Diced home-grown tomatoes and cukes, tossed with olive oil, red wine vinegar, and red pepper flakes. Beer bread, made with Oregon Rogue Honey Ale. Beer/wine

"I'll take the one hand, so long as you keep the other on that hat!" I pull Striker to his feet. "There now. Can ya make it into the Pub, or would you rather find some clothes? I have to tell you, if you walk into the pub wearing nothing but a hat, they're liable to Beat to Quarters!

I am throwing this idea out to see what everyone thinks. At this point, there are a lot of characters to keep track of. What if we made a list of all characters, their descriptions, and under whose "control/voice" they are. When a character who hasn't made an appearance in awhile comes up, you wouldn't have to scroll back through the thread to remind yourself what he/she looks like. I also thought this would help anyone just coming into the story to get better aquainted with all the various characters. Any thoughts? Ransom

I grab Jacky's hat and shove it at Striker. "Here, use that 'til your decent, man. Go on, take it, it's a nice big one. More than enough to cover your...main mast." Striker, somewhat confused and muddled, takes the hat and starts to put it on his head. "No, no, you drunken fool. Your main mast, not the crows nest!"

Admitting to Professor Trilby that I was captain of the Rakehell was a rash bit of egotistical bravado that could cause me a great deal of trouble. But as I trotted through the crowded street, I wasn't worried. For some strange reason, I didn't think Trilby would report me to the authorities. I suspected, although I couldn't say just why, that he and I would become friends—or at least I hoped we would. I quite liked the man. After making a few inquiries, I was directed to a jewelers, where I bartered the snuff box away for half its worth, but for more than enough to help pay for the provisions being loaded on board my ship. As I got nearer the docks, I forgot about Trilby and Killingsworth. My immediate problem was Ioan. I had to decide whether to keep him on board, where I could monitor his movements, or banish him from the crew. My first inclination was to be rid of the man. I had enough to worry about without having to watch my back due to a traitorous first mate. But I feared, loose in the city, he could do me more damage than if I kept him on board. Once out at sea, I mused, he might meet with an unfortunate accident.

Having watched the men hoist Striker up and out, I walk to the door of the Pub to see what Jacky has in mind—always interesting. I feel a bit of sympathy when they toss him in the harbor, but it seems it did him a bit of good. Uh oh. What's happening now? OMG It's a streaking Striker! "For God's sake Jacky, get the man covered. Er, at least part of him covered."