Histories, Backstories & Bios

[Iron Bess]

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

Ahhhh.... kindred to me last breath m'lad.

And the last wave that swirls across me breast!

[crimsoncrow]

**Nods to Iron Bess**Tis always good to come upon another child o' Erin, lass. If ever needs be, ye have me word o' honor to be at yer aid an' at yer service. **Tips brim of hat to her**

[Iron Bess]

**Nods to Iron Bess**Tis always good to come upon another child o' Erin, lass. If ever needs be, ye have me word o' honor to be at yer aid an' at yer service. **Tips brim of hat to her**

(Delftly runs the tip of her fingers across the hilt of her rapier...)

Well said m'lad.

(Nestles the turned rosewood grip in her palm)

I'll remember the offer. Indeed.

I'll remember. :)

[LadyBarbossa]

Some fantastic backgrounds & personas there, mates.

I've to admit... I haven't yet come up with something solid yet. I've several types of 'personas' for role playing games.

[RummyGal]

I was given some smart tactics today from Blenderwench and decided to create my persona. It reads more like a short story...sorry folks. But feedback would be cool.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rummy Gal Persona

I was born as Renée Black to a mother of the streets. My father was unknown to me, but rumor had it I was one of many of Captain Blackbeard’s abandon children.

My mother’s line of work and lifestyle left little time to raise a child properly, so I was left to my own devices and wondered the streets of Charleston, at an early age. I learned many things about that world, many I wish I had heeded in my now adult life.

One day, I think I was about nine, a wife of a wealthy farmer took pity on me and my neglected appearance. She stated that she saw some beauty that shined under my simple clothes and street grime. This lady of statue and grace confronted my mother in requesting to remove me from my current life. My mother being her unusual drunken self easily agreed to letting me go and never to return.

So, from the streets of Charleston, I was uprooted to the country hillside to live at the Blanc Plantation.

While Mister Blanc was originally from France, he and his family had done well with the plantations north of Charleston and were a part of the high society within the area. In order to better fit within my new statue of society, the farmer’s wife and husband renamed me, Antoinette Blanc. The wife was barren and so I soon became the daughter of The Blanc’s and was whisked away in to the society that was theirs.

Etiquettes, manners, dances, schooling lessons, parties, fine clothes, were all freely given to me and I ravenous and craved the attention.

I remained with the Blanc’s until they started wanting to pawn me off to the highest bidder. You know, you can’t marry for love or lust, only for money and being I was the only daughter of this wealthy family, all suitors from 16 to 48 were interested in me. I might have been shy, but I was able to speak my mind when needed and it ended up getting me into serious trouble.

Finally at one point right after my 18th birthday, my father threatened me for the last time.

“You’re 18 years old and still not married, if you are not married by your 19th birthday, you’re on your own!”

Well, of course push came to shove, I left and being a woman of 18 with no real family, I set out to search for my biological father.

I traveled up the coast line until I came to Beaufort, North Carolina. I was able to locate my “father” through a series of local taverns and contacts.

Needless to say he didn’t want to take me on his ship or play the father role. Of course by the time I had found him, I was becoming desperate and my emotions caved in and he actually felt sorry for me and suggested to join Captain Duncan’s ship as a scribe, being I was well taught and fluent in several languages and it would be most helpful to the captain.

So, we have been traveling up and down the coastline for several years and while I don’t necessarily approve of our way of life, we drink, have fun and challenge life to the fullest.

I still remain quite shy, but don’t let that fool you of my bite. I bite nicely when asked and nibble without asking. I have been told my fingers are magic for removing those nasty knots at the stem of pirate’s necks and for scratching the scalps on those really bad bug days. I have also been known to drink most pirates under the table, how else do you think I acquire my booty and my nick name Rummy Gal.

Yet, from time to time I still hear other nick name given to me, An-twat-nette. It’s a lucky pirate who gets the honor to use that name freely, most others I have been know to kill on the spot.

I have yet to met that one man who will turn my life back to being respectful and to be honest I doubt it will ever happen as now. I’m a pirate like my father and I think it was always in the blood, but hope remains, as do my dreams somewhere over the next horizon.

My motto is “Beware of the quiet ones”.

[Capt. Z]

Me past is but short an' vague, but here it be.

I was born just on thee gulf of mexico aboard the gypsie spirit.

Me be son of a sailor, and well, (in me words,of course)me mother was the most bible bunkin land lubber i ever saw. these arent mean words, for they are true. she be a yankee. I always be setin out on adventures on the beautiful sea whenever i pssibly can, sailin a pleasure, stealing a habit, and drinking i was always good at. A least i be good at fixin things too. plus me sense of danger, me smell i sometimes. a lust as jolly as gold. Aye, to be said I'm still in school! 2 years left, an I be off ta sail the seas.

[Bloody_Mary_Bonney]

*smiles* Well i think i'll buy the next round while i weave this tale and as i told siren before however she can not testify that i can i shall give you a lick and a taste of what i can do.

I was born Mary Bonney to a small time metal smith and his wife, in small town outside of london, in the year of our lord *snicker* 1645. Being that she was such a young and delicate thing my mother who was of irish birth, i believe, walked out on my father in the spring of 1648. He was a strong man who took his wifes leaving with a grain of salt or should i say a shot of whiskey. He no longer say wemon as a person whom he could share the undying passion that i knew had been there (he was also a bit of a poet) but instead as objects.

He began to bring them home in the fall of 1650, these whorse he would find on the streets and i watched and learned from these wemon and my father how for a long time i believed wemon were to be treated. This of course i found to be dead wrong but who can blame me for all i had to learn from was a womanizing drunk and his whore.

At the age of 15 i ran away from home only to get about as far as "The cock and bulls tavern" as it was called (okay okay i stole that from the poxy bogards). There i became a serving wench for a period of some 2.5 years or so in which i collected an education in hard knocks. And at the tender age of 17 she met a young man by the name of Andrew Fox who became a vital but not complete role in her become a bit bitter today.

It was an inocent romance in the begining he had just come home from sea and stumbled into the tavern quite litteraly i'm afraid and landed right ontop of Mary. Stuned and a bit embarassed she shoved him off and ran behind the bar counter. Not the easiest meeting i assure you when he was well rested he apologized and they began to talk and imediatly she found herself in love. After a week had passed he told her that he had to ship out and gave her a ring demanding he wait for her. He never returned later it was told to her that his ship was taken up in a storm and all the crew presumed dead. For weeks she did not sleep or eat until one day the bartender at the cock and bulls began to show interest and within a month they were wed.

She never forgave herself for marring that man. Within a week after the marrage she was planing to walk out. Soon the opertunity arouse when Mr. Fox came walking back into the tavern. Imeadeatly he callanged the bartender and the two steped out side.

That night there were two pistol shots and each one claimed a life Mary Bonney had caused the death of two men with jealousy. This is where the story truly begins

From then until present day she works her charms getting what she wants and then turning them away usually ending in blood. That is how she became Bloody Mary Bonney

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Well, as ye all can tell be me name, I'm not so much of a pirate . . .

Me da, well, he was the son of Sir William Smith, a poor man who was well rewardwed with a knighthood for his service to the queen. Me Da himself wasn't titled, but the Smith family lived well off of the fortune Sir Willie recieved - that is, till me da spent it all, but that's getting ahead of myself.

Me mum, well, don't know anything about her. Me da always said she was a whore. She and me Grandda died the night I was born. The only reason I was born in my father's house was cause me grandda was a noble man.

I grew up with the servents, me Da never home. I learned at a young age how to defend myself, what with all the boys picking on me. By the age of seven, they feared my rath. I had a mean right hook and had painfully accurated aim with rocks

During a time of Doctor enforced sobriety and boredom, me Da taught me how to fence. Soon I was better at it then he was, and he had me fight any duels he got into for him. Then he started hiring me out to his friends, to fight their duels for gold. Our family wealth was almost gone. Soon, my dueling wasn't enough and Da was going to turn the house into a private brothel. Not to keen to follow in me mum's footsteps, I ran off to Europe and fell in with a band of famed mercenaries. It was with them I learned how to really fight, how to read, how to write, to cook, to sew, and how not to sound like a London guttersnipe - though, sometimes, I slip up.

After a long run with the mercenaries - 3 years a soldier, 2 years a captain, something terrible happened. Peace broke out. So, after hopping around the globe, looking for a fight, I ended up in the Carribean. Somehow I eneded up on a ship with a pirate named Ravencroft, trying to figure out what makes pirates tick . . .

Well, that's me story, anyway. (And one that I hope ends up in print soon . . .)

Have a round on me - I could use the drink anyway.

[Captain_MacNamara]

Mine be a tad short, but 'ere goes:

I am scotts-Irish, born in the year 1573 in Bunratty, Ireland. I have three sisters and two brothers. Cast out of our Family's lands in 1589, My youngest brother Thomas and I fled by ship and became Sailors. In the year 1590, I "borrowed" my first ship, the Mary Anne. I re-named her the Iron Lotus, Gathered a crew, and took to the sea again... this time as Cap'n Mac. In 1595, I "rescued" an English Noblewoman named Gabrielle and ended up marrying her. We have since had two children...

(Not near accurate yet... still in development.)

[Bilgemunky]

My own origin is shrouded in mystery - indeed, I'm often unsure where I've been meself (blame the rum, and one too many boots to the head.) I did, however, stumble upon a small snippet scribbled on a piece of fake antique parchment that read:

"According to ancient mythology, mighty Zeus came down from the sky to spill his blood into the sea, thus giving birth to Aphrodite, goddess of love. Similarly, when a little piece of heaven found its way into the bowels of a ship (we won't say which one) and mixed itself with all the water, oil, muck, and other unpleasant substances, it was then that the Bilgemunky sprang forth. Of course, Bilgemunky has yet to inspire poems and wars with legend of his beauty, but give him time."

So there ya have it, mates - true as oak and twice as splintered.

[Hook]

My persona is not quite as developed

Arrghh lass, yer persona is as well developed as I have seen these many years and I been lookin' at personas for quite a few days indeed.

Yer've got a fair pair of personas I might add

[Patrick Hand]

when a little piece of heaven found its way into the bowels of a ship (we won't say which one)

Bilgemonkey...... you won't say which one...... the bowels or the ship?

Sorry... just read th' post...... couldn't help meself........

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Well then like it be a matter of concern to ye but ere goes! I be Diego Santana de la Vega, Lookout on the fastest ship 'pon the sea The Osprey. Scout ship fer the Maiden of the Silver Bow. Privateers with letters of Marque we be and accompanied by the Ceili Myst as well. Three ships makes our fleet and 16th Century Europe be the seas we sail. The ships bell says tis nuff said. So be of pleasant days journey me friends. Grammercy

[Pynch]

Nothing fancy-like...just a devil-may-care, go with the flow, roguish little beastie, who'll serve the kindest Cap'n, if'n the price, drink, food and company is tae m' likin'. I'll sing tae ye, draw ye a pretty picture, mayhaps e'en fight for ye if need be (an if I like ye well enough).

Basically, a ship-bourne deck-cat...who'll purr or scratch yer friggin' eyes out, dependin.

:)

[LadyBarbossa]

HA! Finally found this thread again.

Amazed how little was posted here considering I'm sure a good amount of ya now have some backstories, history, bios, etc.

My persona's bio is still a bit sketchy at best.. but... I think it's developing a little bit more.

Can't say well enough where my persona originated.. however the road to piracy is much alike to what's happened thus far to me... in a manner of speaking.

War influenced her background, took her from her home and family. Driving between all she knew to a world rather unknown. Having to fight more and more in which drove her to a more darker side and less hope. Loving men then losing them... loving over and over... finally feeling she could never have love but lust started to become a focal point and was eager to lore men through lust to do whatever she wished. Through trades and coorispondense gaining connections to both various men of the Brethren and those under European Crowns.

Having a hunger and desire for more, for items out of reach... becoming like the Devil himself. Darker, wicked... willing to wage war and taken men to their doom. And women as well.

At the moment... my persona is caught between a good person and incredibly wicked, Captain keeping her in check as the First Mate of the Fool's Gold... knowing Jack Sparrow (which is fun)

Anyone else have their persona developed?

~Lady B

[Ransom]

Tis a sad story of indifference, that turned out well, concidering the life I would have ended up with.

Born of minor nobility with an estate in Suffolk, I am the youngest of seven children, and to make matters worse, the youngest of five girls. When returning from a trip to visit an aunt in Italy, our ship was taken by pirates. The captain, figureing to make a fine ransom from my father, held me on board until a note could be sent and replied to.

While the Captain waited for my father's reply, he put me to work. Odd thing was, I liked it, and the life on board. I took to it, you could say, like a fish to water. When the ransom arrived, it was discovered my father had paid in false coin. I have always assumed it was because he felt one less daughter he had to scrounge a dowry for, was to his good. In any case, the Captain gave me the name False Ransom in an attempt to shame me. Since by that time I had no intention of going back to the life of a broodmare, which would have been my fate, I kept the name, and kept to the trade.

Eight months later, when my Captain took a neat two masted schooner, he decided to be rid of me, as I was becoming too great a distraction to the crew, and I secretly believe he was afraid I would garrot him in his sleep. He gave it to me. I changed the name from Anna Maria, to the Rakehell. Some of the captain's crew chose to sail with me.

Since then I have sailed wherever the wind or the whim takes me.

[Red Dog]

Neither collar nor crown, them's me words ta live by.

I be born to a successful, honorable father and fisherman and a lovely slip of a lady, me Ma.

The bloody red coats, they come in the dark ya know, sneekin like cats looking fer a mouse. I be thirteen at the time, not really a strappin lad, but enough to take a red coat round the bend if needed. The buggers nere let us a chance to fight. They surrounded our house and demanded me Da come forward. The cowards shot him as he walked to meet them face to face. I took to flight with me Ma and lil brother and we watched from the field as the lobster backed bastards set upon our house like the plague taking all they wanted and burning the rest. Me Da was loyal to his bloody highness but nere a shred of justice was to be seen! My uncle took the case before the magistrate that gave no more than shrug and tisk tisk.

We made our way to the Carolinas and there we took room and board with me Ma's family, I couldn't wait no more. I snuck out, went to the port and signed articles with the first loud mouthed separatist Captain I could find. His name was Greeley. Greeley, the coward, didn't last too long, he left ship in the middle of the night although we be three days to sea. I joined the mutineers and we voted to go on the "account". We elected Asher as our captain and in short order renamed the ship " The Crossbow". She was fast, but a bit to small for the guns we be wanting to mount so our first order of business was to set into port and commandeer a more suitable ship. Capt. Asher knew exactly where we would find more suitable transportation. Virginia was our next port.

In short order we came upon a well provisioned, well gunned merchantman of unknown origin. The crew spoke in a strange toung, one I nere heard afore. They be smugglers I guessed and that night while the ship lay in port and most the crew were on shore call, we climbed the anchor lines and easily took control. The remaining eight men onboard readily took to our cause and off we went. The Crossbow and our new flagship, The Consuela. She sported 14 guns and when the sheets filled, she moved through the water like corn through a goose!

The Consuela, now called " The Crow" was my home for nigh on more years than I can remember. Being I could read and write I became the surgeon and learned more 'bout how a man gets disassembled than I ever wanted. And that's where you find me now, drinking away the memories of the lessons I learned first hand.

I return to my family on occasion, delivering monies and swag to help 'em along, and found my brother has taken a commission from his royal pain-in-the-highness as a privateer for the crown! God help me.

[Capt Thighbiter]

Robert Thighbiter, born in 1705 in St Michaelschurch, outside of Perth, son of Rebbeca and John Thighbiter, was the sailing master on HMS Hellion. The Hellion was a privateer, with letters of marque against the French and Spanish navies. He shipped with his young son , who perished in a pitched battle with the French Man of War, Terrible', shot by French grenadiers commanded by Capt Louie Frommage. His taunting laugh troubles Thighbiter's dreams nightly.

After the death of his son, Thighbiter grew morose and sought solace in playing upon his fiddle, his only prize possesion. The captian of the Hellion, John Mowett, forbade the playing of music on His Majesty's ship, and Thighbiter fomented rebelion amongst the crew, who joined him in mutiny.

The Hellions crew now sails on account, seeking out plunder and existance. As a reminder of his son, Thighbiter leads the crew nightly in playing music on the forecastle after 6 bells of the evening watch.

Upon landing in port, Thighbiter will always seek out his sworn enemy, and can be heard to shout " Frommage! Frommage! Where can I find Frommage?". Alas, he is always lead to a cheese shop.

[Capt. Hedge]

Well, I wuz born on th islan o Port o Principe...I don know what year tha wuz, but I knows that I was jus a baby at th time. Anyhow...I was born from Irish parents who was killed when I was very young from pirate attack...sos one could say that I always been drawn up with this occupation. Me an me bes frien Hector growed up together as orphans. Hector was a son of a Spaniard, but I never held that again him...I was called Hedgehog from as long as I can recall, owin to me spiky brown hair. So Hector an me, we took to thievin early on, what with no family an no vocation.

Ses Hector one day, as we was lookin at the Danish Schooner Fancy "We orta take tha boat, an hed to sea, away from this tired ol islan" Hector had always ben the tougher o the two of us, an sorta made up all th rules...so I wuz game.

We stowed on board inside some pickle barrels, an dinna come out till we was at sea, in the night. Hector had a pistol what was never loaded an I had an ol cutlass what I stole from some drunk merchant. We took her over rather quickly, since the crew wernt ready fer us. Next thing they knowed, Ol Hector gots his pistol up to the Cap'n's head. But their Quartermaster, he takes a lunge at us, an ol Hector unintentinly showed he'd been bluffin with the pistol. Things ws lookin bad, but for me an my cutlass. Dinna cut no man, but a few lines here an thar an the ol longboat falls down on most o the crew. Thas the same boat we set em adrift in.

Ses Hector, "this ol boat's as quick as that cutlass o yern! Les call her the Cutlass!" He was allas good at rallyin folks by the heart.

Anyhows, we knowd half a dozen good lads what would be game to put to sea, an at Hispaniola we picked us up some o them wild boucans what was willin to sign up too. So we drew up our articles an set out fer fortune.

Well, off Gibraltar we met the French Brigantine Le Mystique She had jus beat off a Spanish Galleon an was all but sunk herself. We come board to board with her an had her in no time. Aye, that was the birth O the Lady Sioux!(may she sail ferever!)

Anyhows, our real problems come from the fact that Le Mystique had an expert carpenter what was willin to sign on with us. Cap'n Hector takes him on what to replace Mr. Charly Banks, what had allas proved an able bodied carpenter. Charly Banks took offense at that, of course...any man would, especially what had come with us from Port O Principe! To make a example, Cap'n Hector shot him...not ded, mind yer, but shot him down none the less.

Well, the crew'd been gettin mighty uneasy bout Cap'n Hectors methods anyhows, an this set em to talkin.

We careened our ships an set to work fixin em up. While we was, Cap'n Hector announced he was gonna command the Sioux(may she sail ferever), an was gonna put me in command o the Cutlass, an that would increase our local influence.

Anyhows, this story's gettin mighty long. The short end o it is that in secret, the crew mostly decides they want me to be Cap'n, an want to hang Cap'n Hector from the bowsprit! When they brought is up to me, they clapped ol Hector in irons an was fixin to unroll the hemp that very instant! Bein as Hector an me had so much histry, I convinced em to let him serve on th Cutlass as a powder monkey er somethin until we could find a place what to set him ashore. An I took over the Lady Sioux(may she sail ferever).

Somehow, that night, wily ol Hector managed for to rally the crew o th Cutlass agains us. We was woke by a full broadside o her labbord guns. Well, Mr. Banks, what was now me quartermaster, dinna waste no time an neither did Hammy me negro gunner. A full broadside from OUR guns had the Cutlass busted open like a coconut an leanin over on her stabbord side. We boarded her an took her in no time at all, especially since most of her crew rejoined our side when things started lookin bad fer em.

Hector an some score o his men what wouldnt admit they was in the wrong ended up marooned with a barrell o water, some salted beef an as many muskets as we could spare...two.

Those men what had served aginst the Sioux(may she sail ferever) each took forty lashes, less one an forfieted their share o the plunder fer a year. Bein mosly good men as they was, that curbed their appetite an set em strait.

So, thas the story...nay, not the WHOLE tale, that'd take up a mighty load o bandwidth indeedy. We had many ventures before we even come to Gibraltar. But thas the bulk o it near as I can recall. Ol Hector swore with his las word what we herd as we was sailin away that one day he'd take back what was his by rights an set us all ablaze in the flames o hell itself what was his right as true Cap'n.

Tis a mighty shame in my mind that two lads what started the whole affair as mates should one day be mortal enemies. Mr. Banks, an indeed many o em still ses we shoulda strung him up...or leastways shot him or somethin humane like that...but I jus coulnna do it. Spaniard tho he was, he was allas there fer me when we was lads. Next time we meets, things may be differnt, whos to say?

[Smylingsnake]

Well, me own background's a wee bit on the dull side. born in the colony of South Australia, son of a vintner Da and a teacher mam, i soon picked up the odd useful skill, them bein' a knowledge of the difference between prime grog and rotgut, the skills o' leadership and a knack fer spottin' the opportune moment afore it passed me by.

me Mam and Da moved about a bit, which i suppose it where i got me wanderlust from.

heh, 'tis a wee bit funny. Terra Australia bein' the size it is, it weren't until me fifteenth birthday i even saw the sea, but when i did, i swift made up fer lost time. signed aboard the Bunyip, a blue water trader out o' Melbourne town. it would seem that the Bunyip's captain was a man with a relaxed view on the nature o' posessions, so it wern't long till i found meself on the wrong end of a bayonet. thankfully, the bloody redback'd forgot the first rule o' survival: when yer pointing a musket at a lad, make sure he ain't got any mates around. anyway, one swift fracas later, i had me a nice new(ish) pair o' boots, a cutlass and a slightly used musket.

'twas at that point i thought to meself that it might be an idea te get meself trained up enough te keep me tripes on the inside, where they're intended. i found an old scotsman what felt up to the task and a while later i found meself knowin' the way around a blade or battle quite well.

the years went by, as the've a way o' doin', and at last i found meself in possession of enough gold te get meself a ship o' me own. i took meself to the docks and spied meself a ship te me likin', bartered a day and a night and finally dropped me coin down.

Alas, was the one time me sense o' the truthfulness o' me fellow man's let me down. turns out the damn keel was riddled wi' shipworm. thankfully, it lasted me long enough te get me to a pirate-safe port, but it's taken me a bloody year te get the gold together te get meself inside a hull once more. soon though, and then meself and me new lady, the Sandstorm , plan te pay a wee visit te the son of a rat that sold me that worm-filled barnacle-reef and present 'im with a bit o', heh heh, "Customer Feedback".

well, a mate's gotta have a goal for the future, don't he?

[Bloody Bill Flint]

My name is William Flint. I am what most of you would call a colonial. Alas these are troubled times in the new world. The hostilities in Europe have found their way to our shores. Not a week goes by that Acadian and New Englander do not visit cruelties upon each other. I am brother to the Five Great Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy and, a gunsmith by trade. I had been visiting relatives in Boston when it just so happened that a frigate of the Royal Navy was making berth. The press gang accosted myself and a companion on the way home from the pub. When we were taken we had been wearing buckskins. Not an unusual fashion in the colonies, but to the jack tars who were now our shipmates they may as well have been asked to bunk with John Merrick. So they eyed us with suspicion and pestered us with questions, particulary about the red color of my leggings. Natahn couldn't resist telling them that the hue was achieved by soaking them in the blood of one's enemies. This instigated a brawl which brought us to the attention of one W.F. Colquhoun, the master of the ship's marines. He secured positions for us in his company away from the common tars and their cat wielding officers. While patrolling the southern Atlantic we were beset by a pair of French ships and sunk. Nathan, myself and a few others managed to launch a longboat before she went down and slipped away in the smoke and fire. We drifted destitute for days without food nor water til Neptune deposited us on La Margarita. It was here that I made the accquaintance of Captain William Brand, master of The Watch Dog. And so it is that I find myself a privateer of the French crown with untold adventures before me.

[Zephaniah W Nash]

Here's the short bios on our whole crew. Project began during a twelve-hour work-day when stuck "overseeing" from the office, so yeah, it's a bit... whimsical...

The Crew of the Scandalous

[Tartan Jack]

Hi,

My main interest (before spending to much time here) is Scottish history, with pirates as more of an interesting side.

So, it seems most of ya'll have personas. I am beginning to feel like I need one now too.

So here is the basic outline:

Born 1695 in highlands of Scotland (location to be determined, possibly western isles or Argyle).

Fought at 20 in Jacobite Rebellion of 1715 (still need to decide actual position, thinking-> made battle flags and served as color bearer and/or chaplain)

After end, went to sea to avoid prosection as a rebel.

Ended up in Charleston area, but HATED percieved English presence. Tried backcounty, but not to liking. SO, went to sea.

Pressed into piracy (as flag/sailmaker/chaplain), but found to liking.

Vision:

Experinced tactician and moderate weapons (not expert) with a LOT of gall and deep hate for Hanover Government (and not a lot of respect for anything percieved as "English," though many friends and compatriots of English stock). Less experienced at sea, but wanting to learn EVERYTHING.

Is experienced in stitching and some background in art and design (flag making).

As for costume, mix of period highland wear (what already know) and sea wear. Maybe, tartan short coat and trousers/trews. I plan to mix with a belted plaid at times (own several and philabeg/early kilt), but not always nor when would be in the way.

So what do ya think?

(Yes, I am a BIG fan of Roberts, who probably influences my "vision" more than I would like to admit, though am trying to tone down)

[William Brand]

You have an excellent start. You can add upon this theme by researching all the important dates which coincide with the places you are or have been. Create a timeline of real events in history which may have impacted you.

[Lady Alyx]

Hmm picturing a ship with scottish pyrates with their kilties swingin in da breezes....lol

Scottish Pirates