Histories, Backstories & Bios

[crimsoncrow]

I be knowin' well enough, that many of ye be SCA, but not all. So gather round, fine lads and lassies, while this olde Crow tell ye me edited life. Barkeep !! A round fer the house on me!! Harken well, I be switchin' me speech from the pigeon tounge that be me Da's, to the educated manner taught to me by the one who educated me to stand before the mast in a proud manner. I shall show ye mine, you can show me your's.....

I was born Sean Mullin, second son of a fishmonger in Dungarvan, Ireland, 1641. My mother did not survive and my father never forgave me. Not helping, that I was fair haired and complected, taking after her and not my sire. At the age of 14, I lost my father and brother to pnuemonia, winter of 1655. Packing few belongings, I traveled south to Coreaigh,(Cork), And managed to aquire a position on the Merchant vessel as a Cabin Boy. The Captain was cruel hearted and was not one to spare the lash. In 1657, we were set upon by a Staten Jacht. The olde girl we sailed was no match and we were taken. A few of us were spared and put to work. The Captain was a man of 39 named William Lyons of Norman decent, former Nautonnier Knight. A man of great sea knowledge and skill. Stern in his ways, but always fair. Over the course of two Years, I was taken into his confidence . In this time, and in the seven Years to follow, I was educated and groomed in all stations, stratagies, reading, writting and above all, the skill of navigation. In 1665, we entered the Caribbean and after one year of successful plunder, the Captain decided it would be best that he stepped down. He had lived a full and rich life, but, the Sea was hard on him. We set him to port in Hispaniola and he named the First Mate, Gregory Truscott as Captain. He in turn, named me First Mate. I always thought that Lyons had something to do with it, he looked on me as the son he never had, I was told by Captain Truscott in time. Now to present, at the age of 34, the baton has been passed to me. Mister Truscott serves me as First Mate, now. But that is a temporary thing at best. He speaks often of fair Jamacia...

So there it is, in short. There is my name, as you know me. But, that me seamates....That be a tale for another tide.

Crimson Crow

Navigator of the Seas,

Corrupter of fine Lads

[DocF225]

I was born Wilhelm Van Wynsma in Henley-on-Thames in the year of our lord 1639. My father Wilhelm was a sailing master on a Dutch Merchantman. My mother was a seamstress. They met in London while my father was having a dress made for his sister.

They settled in Henley after my father lost his leg during a storm off the Horn. I was born a short while later.

When I was three years old, my mother succumbed to pneumonia leaving my father and I alone. My father then made his living building small craft for fishermen to ply the Thames. The Thames became my playground. I had any number of small boats to use to explore the banks up and down the river.

At an early age, I demonstrated a quick wit and intellect and it was decided that I would receive as much formal education as was possible. Not being a very religious man, my father often sent me to church alone in deference to my departed mother. The local Vicar taught me to read and write and taught me basic arithmetic. As I grew, so did my thirst for knowledge. I read any text I could regardless of the subject. I studied the natural world in my “explorations” of the river. I learned what I could about the sea from the sailing men my father worked for.

In 1655, a wealthy man commissioned my father to build him a yacht and in the process they became friendly. The man owned a small trading fleet and knew of my father’s ability aboard ship. This man became my benefactor. He offered me the opportunity to attend the Royal Academy of Physicians in London. In exchange, I would serve as ship’s Doctor on his flagship, Assurance.

While at the Academy, I excelled in surgery and showed remarkable prowess with both scalpel and saw. I graduated with honors and took my place aboard Assurance.

We made several journeys to the Caribbean and the Orient without incident.

I returned home in 1668 to find my father in very poor health. Try as I might I was unable to save him. I was devastated. All of my years of study and reading were useless to save the only family I had. I turned to drink to numb the pain. My usually steady hands trembled all the time, my mind was as slow as molasses up hill and my keen eyesight was blurred from the drink.

On a trip to the Caribbean in 1670, several Sloops under the black flag set upon Assurance. Most of the crew was killed but the raiders suffered heavily as well. The Pyrate flag along with a seriously wounded Captain was moved to Assurance. With a ‘lock at my head and a cutlass at my throat I was ordered to save the Captain. For three days and nights I worked feverously to save his life. Through some fortuitous twist of fate, Captain Eggleton recovered and in his gratitude, spared my life.

For several weeks, I stayed aboard with the Pyrate crew watching them “redistribute” the wealth from heavy Galleons. The crew took a liking to me and I was treated with respect and admiration for saving their Captain. For the first time in a long time, I felt as though I had a purpose. I convinced Captain Eggleton to let me stay aboard and care for his crew.

[crimsoncrow]

A bit o' rum for ye, Sir! May yer life be long and free of hardships to it's end. Ye have paid yer dues.

[Animal]

Me persona be one tha evolved as I did o'er the eons. I wa found in a leaky craft by de most Honorable Captn Hurricaine. De crewe nurseded me back from de brink o death wit rum and wenches. It be amazing how tha mixture can make ye regain yer will ter survive. De Captn tell me tha whilst I was out o me 'ead, I spewed scripture and turned green. Dis wa confirmed by de crewe an dey made me da cook an revrend. Me tinks dat it be a curious combination dat be but I accept it as me lot. De Captn also says to I dat when I be green, I seem to not be so spiritual in me actions. Idunna no abou' dat as I canna ever remember much after one o dem spells. I haffa to beleive da Captn is saying fe tru as he saved me life.

Animal

[crimsoncrow]

Here, here! It is a fine man that offers mercy and comfort to those in need, when it be the easier path to stand aside and not intervene. For mercy is not a sign of weakness, but, a true showing of strength. My regards to yer Captain. And I will be fillin' yer tankard for sharing yer tale, lad.

Crimson Crow

[Captain Scurvy Dog]

although every pyrate has sometime in his er her life cried out me name ...Scurvy Dog... few knows that it be me they were callin', (sniff) but it be me family that takes the fame... me two uncles probleys' be most famous...me uncle Ed on me mother's side, Edward Teach commonly known as BlackBeard the King a Pyrates & me uncle John on me father's side, Long John Silver, he be called... me mother be named, Ima Dog the Queen a Wenches, those close to her just calls her "Bitch"... & me father, YellowBeard, who never married me mum & i never knows his last name to add it to mine & although he did try to kill me many times... it was i in the end that sent him to Davy Jones Locker ...er, so i believes... but some say he washed up on thee British Isle a Virgins & is alive & well... i be followin' in me uncles & father's bootstraps, thee adventure leds me to journey on 8 perilous voyages... wit some of the booty i acquired, i opened up a fine tavern, "Thee ShipWreck Pub", in thee Caribbean... & though i still seeks adventure, the voyages be much shorter in duration these days... & mostly less perilous...(sniff)...

Aye...i've spoken too much... the rum loosened me lips...BLASTED!!!

Spill a Word a This to Another Soul & I'll RIP OUT YER TONGUE & WIPE ME BUTTOCKS WIT IT!!!

[Black Syren]

Born as Tristan Grey in 1643. Her parents were of noblitiy. Her Father an English Earl and her Mother an Italian Contessa. Before her grandafther died he refused to acknowlege Tristans mother because although of noble birth Gypsy blood ran hot through her veins. Since the Grandfather refused to acknowlege his wife he gave up the title and moved to Galveston and began working in politics.

Parents died when she turned 11. Her uncle became her guardian and the current Governor of Galveston wished for the young beauty to wed his son when she was of age. He had seen her and heard her sing at a dinner party shortly before her parents death and was entranced by her blossuming beauty. But she defiantly said no. Her uncle enraged tossed her out into the night. Cold, scared and hungry she roamed for nearly a week. Then she could stand it no more..her stomach was so hungry..She began to sing. Soon a hand was clapped over her mouth and she wa hauled aboard a ship and into a cabin and was released and told to sing again..She did. From them on she became known as The Siren and Peg Leg Red became her adopted father and he taught her everything about pyracy. At his death by the Govenor who hunted her she became Captain of the Seas Song Peg Legs Ship and her own Sloop Poesidon. Now she eludes The evil Governor by staying one step ahead of him..But recently he offered gold for her to be captured and brought back alive..For his mistress...

[crimsoncrow]

A thanks for yer tale an' the next fill o' yer tankard be on me. I would offer ye position on me own ship, but seems ye have two of yer own. An' yer fair face an' sweet voice would wreck havoc on me crew when the tyme comes to be doin' their duties.

[Black Syren]

Ah well I be thinkin ye kindly fer yer offer and the drink..Perhaps we could band together and terrorize the Texas coast. I feel a change in the wind says I..What say you crimsoncrow? Band together and Ill not be tying ye to any masts nor torturing ye with feathers. :)

[blenderwench]

My persona is not quite as developed.... but, here goes:

Born Victoria LeVine, a merchant's daughter. I was betrothed to a terrible creature, and ran away from home at the age of 14.

I found employment in the taverns, at the docks of Fells Point, in Baltimore. I was then named "Blender Wench". Although I was a tavern wench by trade, I was deeply intrigued by the rabble that came into port and drained their tankards to the sweet nectar that I concoct in a blender, I started to yearn for life at sea.

I found pyrates seemed so intimidating and rugged on the outside, but were really compassionate, huggable and loyal - more so than any common merchant that I have known. The were also the sorts to protect a lass such as me, with no kin to be made mention of. Of course, I would never dream of crossing these men, but there was never a reason given to even consider switching my loyalties.

So, one day after the pubs closed, I accompanied several pyrantical lads back to their ship, where I was requested to make more of my fantastic rum drinks. As the party continued, we all became merry, danced, told stories, snuggled... as I was in a hazy stupor, at dawn, I noticed the ship was leaving port, going out to sea.

These fine men wanted me to accompany them on their adventures, serve my drinks, keep folks merry (when work did not have to be done) and (after the fact that the ship was at sea...) I was more than happy to oblige~!

I am a sassy sort, who can be quick on the tounge, with a smile to melt the hardest of hearts. On occasion I have been known to dance on tables and bars iffen the music gets to me, and the attention is right. I am also notorious for offering kisses in exchange for beer/rum/drink of any kind. (those that may approach me at the MD Renaissance Festival do know 'tis true!)

Am I a tramp? Not often. I am more of a flirty, rowdy, independant little thing that protects "my boys" and makes sure they are all happy and well-kept.

-------

Now - reality.... at least, so I am told..... My pop's family insists that our ancestry can be traced back to Blackbeard.

Of course, I am not sure if that is a legend they grew up telling us wee ones, but me likes to thinks tis true~!

[William Brand]

I am more of a flirty, rowdy, independant little thing that protects "my boys" and makes sure they are all happy and well-kept.

And are ye well paid for this hospitality?

[blenderwench]

I am more of a flirty, rowdy, independant little thing that protects "my boys" and makes sure they are all happy and well-kept.

And are ye well paid for this hospitality?

Of course! In a place to stay, rum, protection, and company of others. If there is something I so desire, may it be a garment or a trinket, I will have it.

And, to add - just learned Captain Scurvy Dog offered some unsolicited compensation - many thanks!

[William Brand]

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Thee confidence is befittin' of a good pirate!!! AYE! More rum!

[blenderwench]

That I can do!

::::runs to trunk and starts mixing flavours for a fabulous potent flavor::::

::::tastes creation::::

hmmm - I think I will name this one "Liquid Orgasm." - any takers of the drink?

[Iron Bess]

Bess' story, much as her life, is relatively short.

She was whelped as Pa'draigin Elizabeth O'Malley sometime in the middle of the 1600's.

It never occured to her to care exactly when that might have been.

She grew up in a happy household off the windswept coast of Ireland and then Scotland's Orkney Isles when her clan relocated for better fishing and more fertile lands. She was the only daughter among eight sons. Eight strong, handsome, protective and troublesome brothers.

She was a happy child indeed.

She loved them, each and every one and they loved her in return. She was never an annoyance and what they knew they taught to her. What they knew best was a love of roaming the coast and the sea and the small islands within reach. More then one was to take to Privateering and more then one would hang for their misadventures. Bess was rightly proud of each brother to her own dying day.

And what these scallywags also knew was the use of a sword. To respect your weapons and to know you are never it's total master. Bess, from an early age took to the handling of swords with a skill that was alarming and that convinced her family that the gift had come back with her from a previous life. With her level of ability, it was most likely from several lives. And too great a gift it was her father feared for often he was heard to mutter under his breath... *Aye, They will be after hang'n that girl!* In the silence of his thoughts however, he was proud that she took no nonsense from anyone and was growing into an honest, kind and caring woman. She became their *Iron Bess*. She was a peacemaker and a warmonger in the family and everyone knew that to cross swords with her meant, although she might lose the battle, that they would carry the bruises of her exuberence for weeks to come.

As she grew into her adulthood she was tall, tall enough to be intimidating to many of the local men that she'd known from childhood. While she had always been known to be adventurous and non conforming, for this waif to become an appealing and fine figure of a woman was something they had not expected.

Not at all.

With heavy, wavy dark hair and large grey-green eyes, she was fancied by many of the men for the sheer adventure of her size and her unpridictability. Her complexion was pale, soft and creamy ivory and it was still common enough for a blush to rise easily from the base of her throat to color her gently oval face. She saw her world through enormous but delicate brown eyes which communicated openly with sincere tenderness or fire of temper from within, allowing her to dissolve even the most blustery pirates hardened heart or set them to running with only so much as a tell-tale smile. Her small mouth with full, pleasing lips in the softest shade of rose would smile and pout and confound the men that knew her. Bess was well equipped for any chosen profession be it wife or wayfarer. Strong, muscled, lean and smooth, full round breasts and amply cushioned hips. Aye... she would be a comfortable and sturdy vessel for a night’s sail into carnal seas. For those that did not die in trying.

Bess' story is like the tides of the sea she loves... high times of adventure and love and low moments of grief and boredom.

Her life was short... but OH! the adventures!!

[crimsoncrow]

**Smiles and nods.**Well done all.

Cap'n Siren, yer proposition I shall think on an' we shall parlay at a later tyme.

Cap'n Scurvy Dog, manner wi' the handlin' of the fair gender be improvin'. I thank ye for yer tale an' fill yer tankard .

Blenderwench, ye be a sassy one. An' we seadogs always love a lass that be firey. Thank ye an' yer next round be mine to buy.

Iron Bess, ye warm me heart. Being a daughter o' Erine, tis nothin' but highest regard an' respect I hold for ye. For ye, lass, I shall have retrived from me ship's hold a decanter o' fine whiskey from fair Irelands shores. May it warm ye with warm 'membrences of home.

[Iron Bess]

(Roll'n m'eyes heavenwards...) Well now, think you that I sup with the first sassy lad that put the come-hiter upon me? (chuckle)

As you are Pirate... I will make an exception.

We must talk of the old world when time permits lad. I have people there still. Sligo and Tourmakedy on the West coast near Lough Mask.

Ahhh, the sounds of home.

[crimsoncrow]

Nay, dear lass. Was no' me intention. Just a gift of our homeland from me to a kindered spirit.

[Hawkyns]

Actually, Hawkyns has 2 personae, depending on the event. The more developed is the Elizabethan. I was born Roderic Hawkyns in1555 in Skipton, in Yorkshire. My father was a carriagemaker. I was apprenticed to my uncle, a saddler and harnessmaker. In the course of my apprenticeship, I went to the castle to maintain the harness of the garrison and Trayned Band. I came to prefer being with the soldiers to my other work, and eventually joined the garrison, much to the dismay of the family. I trained as a musketeer and eventually as a gunner. After some years service, I came to the attention of George Clifford, Earl of Cumberland, who was the lord of Skipton. He was equipping ships to sail privateering to the Caribbean, and took me on as a ship's gunner on the Bonaventure. I continued to sail on his ships and was aboard his ship when the Dons were defeated during their great Enterprise. After the Armada, the Earl returned to his privateering, where I still serve him as master gunner on his ship.

The other persona is less developed, but involves coming to the colonies in 1720 and becoming a smuggler on the New England coast. When the French wars break out in 1739, I fight for my country against the French and the Spanish.

Hawkyns

[crimsoncrow]

I thank ye fer yer tale, Master Hawkyns. And yer next round be on me. Met one o' yer gunners. Francois the lad's name was. Grand lad he was an' a credit to yer crew, I be sure.

[Redd Oktober]

Well...as the shanty goes....

"He sailed out from Dover an' his name be Oktober."

Orphaned off at an early age by besotted parents, Redd found hisself in the hands of a fabric mill. Twas here he learned his sewing skills. When the opportunity presented itself, he ran away from the mill and found himself a beggar in Dover. He was pressed into naval service and awoke aboard the HMS Persistence. The crew was comprised of a fowl rabble which committed mutiny off the coast of Madrid. They set sail for the Americas, where they were ambushed by an armada of pirate hunters. He escaped before he reached trial in Portsmouth. He found himself a longboat, and set out alone towards the Caribbean. It was here that he met the abandoned French poet August Merde. Redd learned why the poet was so named the minute the Frenchman opened his mouth (horrible prose). He set the hapless Merde adrift and stole his dandy coat of black velvet (for it has red cuffs, which the pirate much admired). When floundering in a squall, Redd was picked up by the mighty ship Royaliste, where he was immediately admonished for his seamanship...but praised for his wit, cunning, abilities in disguise, and marksmanship. He is now one of the sailors/gunners aboard the Royaliste...although recently he has gone ashore for a breif respite with his monkey, Domino...and a mysterious "dark lady" who seems to have captured Redd's heart with her black voodoo magic.

[crimsoncrow]

**Shakes head**Damned English pier pressure.....As wi' the others, I thank ye for yer tale, lad. An' I be owing ye a round.**Raises tankard in toast.**This be for The Royaliste...a lady of fine lines and grace, may she dance the waves for many a year!

[El Pirata]

http://www.colonialpanama.com/mybio1.htm

[crimsoncrow]

Me hats off to ye for yer service, lad. Thank ye and the nest round be mine to pay.

[Captain Scurvy Dog]

Cap'n Scurvy Dog, manner wi' the handlin' of the fair gender be improvin'. I thank ye for yer tale an' fill yer tankard .

(rum shoots out of Captain Dog's nostrils) Blasted! & i thought i be treatin' em worse!