Port Royal, Part Two

[Thomas Neede]

Thomas peered from above his glasses to see Sully ushering one of the twins in. He shuffled some of his papers and procured a rudely drawn map of Port Royal. "A drink lad?", Thomas offered and waved towards his cupboard. Liam showed Thomas the bottle his fist was clenched around, "T'ank ya sah," he replied. Thomas called Liam over to his desk and moved some of his ledgers to the other side. He rested his chin on the backs of his hands.

Very calmly he spoke, "Liam, we are to put the King's Lion out of business." "Sah, innit th' pub fer th Gov'nah's men?" "Aye, the King's men," Thomas corrected. The King's Lion was the main pub for the soldiers stationed at Forts Walker, Charles and Morgan. One of the larger establishments in town, it was found on the south end of Lime Street where the west end of York Street met. Known by its yellow tinned roof it could be spotted from St. Paul's Church as well as from the ramparts of Fort Charles. While there were plenty of other taverns in town, the Lion catered almost solely to those in service to the King. Payment for drink could be left on script, with a promise of coin at their next pay. Not many in town could do so. And for a good reason. Thomas was to make sure of that.

Thomas showed Liam the map. The innkeep made everything as simple as possible for the twins. He pointed out where the main rum stores were kept out behind Fort Walker, most in part for those pubs found on the south side of Port Royal and specifically the King's Lion. He dragged his finger northeast across the map to where they were currently located. He showed Liam where a small pinnace could be found tied along the dock just down from the 'Neede. He left the twins up to their own specifics. "You two should be able to fit ten barrels on that boat in one trip," Thomas explained. "I want thirty barrels in two days time and I don't want to know how," smiled Mister Neede. "Me bruddah an' i 'll 'ave 'er done," Liam smiled. He could not wait to tell Ian.

Liam rushed from the office. "Think they can do it sir?," Edward queried as the door closed. "If they cannot, then we will find someone who can."

[LadyBarbossa]

Upon the exit of two gents from the office of the tavern proprietor, eyeing the two as they meandered their way out. Sought to finally take this opportunity to seek out and discuss business with Mr Neede.

A hand motioned back to her party as she waltzed towards the intended locale of Mr Neede. Meandering her way through the ruffians and rabble as they heartily laughed, drank, played games and did whatever they could to enjoy the company of comrades and questionable women.

Finally out of the crowded room to stroll down the short hall to a door. Stopped before it a moment, then knocked upon it with genteel grace.

Standing there, she awaited word to enter that may or may not come. Either way, she WILL enter the room to talk.

~Lady B

[Ransom]

Ioan watched the Irish twins leave the tavern, still not believing they hadn't recognized him. After all, they'd had a near shootout in the stairway of the Ship Tavern over that renegade Killingsworth. Or his body. Ioan had stood to earn good silver for the capture of the man, had not the twins beat him to it and killed him. He wondered if the fine lady who had been willing to pay him was still in Port Royal. Maybe she had other jobs he could do for her, now that the crew of the Rakehell wasn't dogging his every step. That thought led him to wonder, once again, who was dogging him now, no doubt under her orders. He forced his mind away from those thoughts, since all they did was make his anger fester like a septic wound.

Instead, he watched with interest as the flamboyantly dressed female captain headed to the back room of the tavern. His curiosity piqued, he wondered what business Mr. Need could have with such a one. His interest was distracted by the bark of one of the warehouse workers who was playing cards at his table.

"Ioan, ye going to play cards, or gawk at the strangers all night?" the man growled, tossing in his bet.

Ioan studied his hand, discarded two cards, placed his own bet, then grinned at his co-worker. "Be glad to take your money, Cyrus. It'll pay for my next ale, if it doesn't come on the house."

"Ye have to win it first, ye blackguard," Cyrus fired back.

"If you insist," Ioan replied, laid his cards on the table, fanned them, and grinned at the rest of the players. "I believe this hand is mine, lads...and lady."

[Ian Finn]

Liam 'adn't bin gone long afore I noticed someone familiar. Dunno ifin he caught me as well. I 'member me 'is black eyes. Liam grabbed me shoulder an' pulled me out o' th' inn. I tried t' tell m' bruddah o' th' man at th' 'Neede. But Liam cut me off 'fore i could tell 'im. Once on th' road he told me o' Thomas' next plans f'r us. "BLOODY 'ELL LIAM! 'Ow in th' fek we gonna do 'at? THIRTY barrels??" Liam punched me an' told me' t' keep quiet. I punched him back an' 'e fell 'n th' dirt. He grabbed me arm when I jumped on 'im an' swung it behind m' back, rolled me over an' stuck my face hard 'n th' road. "Shut ye fekkin' mouth so I's c'n tell ye you stupid fek."

[Marisol de Sansal]

Marisol continued to quietly play cards, winning some hands, losing others. She was becoming more and more aware of the attentions of the man who had given her a seat, and also of the young lad across from her, who seemed to be winning most of the money. She wished Mr. Neede would return to the common room so she could acquire a room, but now that the impressive female ship captain had gone to the back, she would be forced to wait even longer.

It wasn't that she found the company of rough men disagreeable—they were entertaining in their own way. But this was not the life she was accustomed to, and cursed again the bad luck that had stranded her and Ahmet on this island.

A roar went up as the Welshman won the latest hand. She smiled at him. His manner and way of talking were educated and she wondered what had brought him to Port Royal. Trouble, no doubt, as the place seemed a haven for every sort of miscreant.

Her thoughts were interrupted by shouting, as a fight broke out at another table. Two men hurled themselves at each other, and ended up wrestling on the floor. Bystanders laughed, cheered them on, and poured beer on the pair. Others were clearly placing wagers on who would win the bout. Ahmet stood protectively behind her, like a pillar of dark marble.

"It appears the tavern has now become a sporting arena," she said, then accepted her number of cards for the next hand. "Should I bet on the cards, or on one of two gentlemen currently on the floor?"

Edited June 1, 2009 by Marisol de Sansal

[Thomas Neede]

Sully was halfway to the door when he heard the knock. He turned immediately to Thomas whom waved him forward. The young boy went to the door and opened it gingerly. He peered out to find a woman not of the usual ilk standing outside the door. Judging by her dress, Edward assumed the woman to be a ship's captain. 'Odd', he thought to himself. "Come, please". The young boy bade her enter into Thomas' office. The innkeep was replacing several ledgers he had withdrawn from their nook when he noticed the Captain. "Madam," he politely bowed. Moving towards her he outstretched his arm awaiting a handshake.

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

.....Fine!" Elizabeth said throwing the bills in Bess' face. "Your master wants his money?! Then he will have to come to me directly for it!" Eilzabeth quickly opened her dressing room door and screamed for her stage grunts. It didn't take long for two of the biggest men Bess had ever seen in her life to appear standing in front of the dressing room door.

Things did not go well for Bess. As she stood in shock, drenched in mud from head to toe, muttering insults under her breath. Bess did not take kindly to being assulted by Mistress Elizabeth's henchmen. They lifted her effortlessly from the dressing room chair and dragged her through the backstage hallway until they reached the stage door. With one mighty swing, she went flying and ended up in the muck and filth.

She took her time walking back to the inn. Being unsuccessful in obtaining the money owed to her master, she tried to think of a way out of this mess. Yet, as she glanced down at herself she knew it was going to be difficult to explain her current condition to Master Killingsworth. With a sigh she slowly made her way up the last cobblestone street to the inn. "Perhaps he will not beat me this time." She whispered to herself as she looked up at the small window on the top floor. The light was on...and she knew that he would be waiting.

[LadyBarbossa]

After a moment of nothing, the door opened.... by a young lad. Inside the room wans a gentleman... the keep of this establishment apparently.

"Thank ye," to the lad with a slight genteel nod as she strod in gracefully but strong. Her troupe following behind as she meandered over to the table as she was addressed as 'madam'.

"Hardly," she replied to Mr Neede with a slight smirk and a deep siren's tone - sweet yet wicked. "Lady Ana will suffice," Then she continued, getting right down to business. "Tis difficult to notice that ye shall soon be in need of provisions. Particularly more spirits. Having recently come to Port Royal and with a hold filled with provisions to sell.... perhaps I can offer ye some... goods? Bottles of madeira, port and various other wines? Barrels of rum and whiskey?"

Not taking a seat instead she paced a moment before stopping to face Mr Neede with a wicked smile.

[Professor Angus Trilby]

.... With a sigh she slowly made her way up the last cobblestone street to the inn. "Perhaps he will not beat me this time." She whispered to herself as she looked up at the small window on the top floor. The light was on...and she knew that he would be waiting.

Trilby was enjoying the relatively cooler night air and the slight breeze that the terrace afforded, when he saw the young maid approach the doorway across the lane. He saw her look up, her face pinched with worry, and for the hundredth time that day, wondered who the man in the window had been, for she was obviously afraid of going inside.

On impulse, he leaned out over the half-wall and called, “Oi, lassie, ye seem a wee bit fearful of yon mister. Would ye be telling me who he is, for I think I’ve seen his like before, but I’m nae sure. It was a quick wink only I got of him as he stood in the window this morning, sae I couldna really tell. Truth is, I thought the man tae be daid these many months, ye ken, sae I could be mistaken.”

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

“Oi, lassie, ye seem a wee bit fearful of yon mister. Would ye be telling me who he is, for I think I’ve seen his like before, but I’m nae sure. It was a quick wink only I got of him as he stood in the window this morning, sae I couldna really tell. Truth is, I thought the man tae be daid these many months, ye ken, sae I could be mistaken.”

Bess was startled at first. She turned to see the old man beckon her and point to the window where she knew her Master was waiting. Fearing that her Master was watching her from his perch, she quickly turned to the old man."

"Ney sir, my Master would have me in an inch of my life if I spoke to you...or any other stranger. I am not permitted. Good day to you, sir."

And with that Bess quickly opened the door to the inn and went inside.

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

In the dark little room at the top of the inn, Reggie Killingsworth tried to find comfort in sleep. He rolled over on his small bed and saw that day light had given way to darkness. He rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh, but he could not find peace. An old malevolent force haunted his every waking hour. It had never left him since he arrived in Port Royal more than six months ago. It crept in like a ghost and held fast to his soul.

In the dim light of a faded fire he noticed the body of Bess lying on the floor. Had it only been a few hours since he killed her? Had anyone heard her cry? He wondered. Had anyone heard her shout ‘Murder’? His mind began to race once more.

Nevertheless, the unsettling feeling still haunted him. Killing was relatively simple. It was the aftermath that he had trouble with. His hands flew up to her face as he tried to cover his eyes of what he had done.

Reggie quickly lit a candle and grabbed the bible. “God, forgive me…” He whispered as he began to pray…

Deus meus, ex toto corde poenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum, eaque detestor, quia peccando, non solum poenas a te iuste statutas promeritus sum, sed praesertim quia offendi te, summum bonum, ac dignum qui super omnia diligaris.

Ideo firmiter propono, adiuvante gratia tua, de cetero me non peccaturum peccandique occasiones proximas fugiturum.

Amen.

Edited June 14, 2009 by Reginal S. Killingsworth

[bosun red]

As it t"was luck not b with me this eve! sir, I comend ye for yer skill ere at the tables. Madame, beg pardon me thinks i'll take leave while i still have a little coin in me purse. (up Red stumbles sliding the chair back sluggishly and stumbles out presumable to take a leak in the alley)

Ahhhhhh, I be holding that longer than be good for me body.(just pulling up his pants when two shadowed and foul smelling men arrive)

give us ye purse or give us ye life! (the first man throws a hard punch into red's stomach dubling him over. In this present position the second manhits him accross his temple with a rock and red goes down. The first plunges a knife into red's side "for good measure" and then they take boots, coat, and purse and disapear into the night laughing)

[captjustinkase]

He had made it back to Iceland barely in time for his father's funeral pyre. The letter found him while in port in New Orleans, and by the time he read of his father's illness he was already too late to say goodbye.

He looked upon the wall of his cabin and saw the axe hanging upon the wall, and he fondly thought of his mother. The small woman, full of old Viking spit and vinegar grabbed him by his hair and dragged him down in front of her. Calling him by he birth name she growled out his lineage, explaining how the 2 foot blade impaled on a 4 ft piece of wood had been the right of every elder male in his line dating back to Odin times.

He tired to explain that the axe would be of no use to him on the close confines of his ship, but further pulling of the hair, and eventual twisting of his ear convinced him that his family honor would rest easier with Thorn in his possession.

That was months ago, and being back in that cold land reminded him why he preferred warmer weather, so the SeaMonkey was sailing further south than they ever had before. New Orleans would not be her port of choice, for he demanded warmer weather and brighter sun. He has heard of a port within the Carribean that was supposed haven to those of his ethical persuasion, and he was determined to see if it was true.

A cannon's roar woke him from his mindless day dreaming and cause him to fall unceremoniously from his hammock. He picked himself up from the floor of his cabin and ran out of his cabin, grabbing a flintlock pistol and a chopping cleaver on his way.

Upon deck he lowered both weapons as he realized that instead of being part of a pitched battle, his crew stood upon the deck in proper military fashion all saluting him formally.

Morgan, 1^st mate of the SeaMonkey, stood forward and announced in a loud, crisp military tone, "Captain Justin Kase, The crew be ready for inspection, SIR!"

Justin stood dumbfounded, and stared slack jawed at his crew. His dirty, smelly, half drunken, lying, cheating, viscous crew.

"Oh, and Port Royal be in sight too." Morgan said with a half smile, and the whole crew broke into laughter.

"You…you…YOU DRUNKEN, malodorous, conniving, BASTARD!" Justin bellowed at the thin Irish man. "What was with the CANNON?"

"Ya did instruct me to wake you when the port be in site. Boom Boom was present when you made that announcement and I promised her she could do it. You know how she likes her wakeup calls Captain."

Captain Justin Kase then smiled warmly and threw the cleaver towards the center mast, where it stuck solidly into the wood. The small girl inches from the blade gulped hard and smiled sheepishly at the captain.

"Wake me like that again Boom Boom, and it be you I load into your precious children. As for the rest of you bastards… SHORE LEAVE!" A great cheer rose from the deck of the SeaMonkey as it made way to port.

Edited June 17, 2009 by captjustinkase

[Thomas Neede]

Thomas sat comfortably in his chair. Hands claspedHe placed the index of his fingertips to his lips. He waited a moment after she spoke to mull the conversation. Was not the first time a stranger had appeared bartering for goods. The twins were about to complete his stores, yet the possibility of legally gotten gains would better suit the ledger as well as accountants for the King. Yet she did not appear to be a content merchantman, or woman for that matter. Mayhaps something more sinister? Thomas felt odd, but not ill at ease. He knew of the current prices of Madiera from Spain, hogshead of large beer from England, and even whiskey from Scotland. Regardless of her price, Thomas Neede could afford such necessities. His days were spent ruminating about the counting houses by the wharf and speaking with those agents dutifully carrying out their meager existence within pen, paper and goods. A sharp crack from the fire seized Thomas back to the moment.

"I could use several of those items you mentioned, Lady Ana. What say we discuss price and payment . . .in kind or in full?"

Eleven p.m., The Sinners Neede

[Ian Finn]

I pushed him of o' me. He put his finger t' his lips and waved his hand toward him. "Follah me bruddah," he whispered to me an' smiled. He led 's t

the docks an' a small longboat jus' tied off. "Where we goin'? I asked 'im. He said we's t' take a look at the warehouse jus' north o' Fort Walker. "At night?" I ask'd him. He told me t' stop askin so many questions and pick up an' oar to get to rowin'.

[Marisol de Sansal]

The card game was beginning to bore her. She had to work hard at not winning all the games, and therefore riling her fellow, and very male, players. Card games at the French court were a true test of skill, and she had held her own over more than one noble French fop. Besides, it was getting late, and she was tired. She longed for a hot bath and cool sheets. However, the likelihood of getting either of them here was pretty dismal.

Marisol slapped her last hand of cards down on the table, deciding she wished to win, and then leave the game. The brawl had been broken up, and the combatants were now arm in arm, drinking heavily, and singing a very bawdy song. So far, the owner of the Sinner’s Neede had not reappeared, and until he did, she could not rent a room.

Putting on her most winning smile, Marisol swept the male players a coy glance, and asked, “Are any of you fine gentlemen acquainted with Mr. Neede? If so, I would be most grateful if you could intercede for me, and procure me a room, and also one for my guardian. I fear my long voyage of the previous week has tired me more than I thought.”

Unfortunately, the fact that she had just won all their money did not make them too disposed to help her. Instead of leaping up to assist, they just glared at her and demanded another round of cards.

[Thomas Neede]

An accord being met, Thomas finished his goblet and begged pardon to return to the inn. Even at this late hour, patrons continued to stream in droves seeking shelter from the rain and ales from the humidity. Thomas scanned the crowd and saw the large Turkish looking man standing in the corner furthest from himself. He made his way through the crowd and approached the table in front of the guardian. The table quited as the innkeep approached. "I take it a room is needed my lady?" asked the portly tender.

[LadyBarbossa]

OOC: Apologies, rather distracted lately. Back to the story, aye?

IC:

For a moment she pondered. "Price of payment, good sir, only be upon your accepting the goods. Feel free to wander down to the docks to the good ship, the Resurrection, inform the Bosun t'was I who sent ye. THEN we can discuss arrangements of payment there."

Her haunting eyes never left him. Calculating the situation as best she could.

Then she took her leave of the Sinner's Neede, returning to her vessel, the Resurrection.

[Marisol de Sansal]

An accord being met, Thomas finished his goblet and begged pardon to return to the inn. Even at this late hour, patrons continued to stream in droves seeking shelter from the rain and ales from the humidity. Thomas scanned the crowd and saw the large Turkish looking man standing in the corner furthest from himself. He made his way through the crowd and approached the table in front of the guardian. The table quited as the innkeep approached. "I take it a room is needed my lady?" asked the portly tender.

Marisol looked up at the man, and smiled gratefully. “Yes, a room is required, both for myself and my guardian. Is such available? And, I apologize for my earlier remarks. I beg you, blame it on my extreme fatigue.”

She stood, and Ahmet stepped protectively to her side as a loud crash from the opposite side of the room started another round of fighting. Apparently one of the whores had emptied a mug of ale over a sailor’s head, and he had thrown her off his lap for wasting the booze. In falling, she had upset a table and other mugs of ale went flying, much to the annoyance of those who had paid for them.

With a sigh of despair, Marisol looked once again to the innkeeper. “I see your house is busy tonight, but...I would be willing to pay extra for our rooms, especially if by some miracle you could provide a basin of hot water. If not, cold water will do.”

At this point, Marisol was so tired she would be thankful for a straw pallet on the floor, especially if the room was on the opposite side of the building from the noisy common room.

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

Reggie raised his head from the table where it had been perched in slumber for the last few hours. There inside the tavern of the ‘Pudding and Pye’ there were low rough-hewn beams, chipped plaster walls, and mice scurrying across the cold stone floor.

Earlier the crowd, most of them drunk, red-faced men in soiled shirts, from the docks laughed, coughed, and tipped their head back in great jest. It was an awful site to behold.

Yet now…looking around, he noticed that the crowd had dissipated to a lowly few. The barkeep barked his few commands to the lowly serving maid. “When y’er done there…out to the kitchen wif you.” The barkeeps eyes narrowed at the pretty little dark button-eyed girl in the soiled mud-brown frock. “and don’t be think’n you can steal anything from the pantry. I’m keep’n me eye on you, girl!”

The young girl threw her hand up in retaliation to the barkeeps comment. “Coxcomb!” She shouted back to him as made her way to the kitchen’s door.

Muttering under his breath, the barkeep words could be heard quite clearly from where Reggie was seated. It was then the barkeep realized he was not alone in the tavern. “You dun here? We’re closing up now. Pay me and off with you.” Reggie pulled his cloak closure to his body, his hat further down to cover his face. “Yes…of course,” was the only reply that came from him.

As he threw a few coins on the table, the barkeep looked at him. “You owe me a bit more than that…seeing that I took care of that ‘bundle’ of yours the other night.” Reggie’s eyes narrowed as looked back at the squat, ruddy-faced man. “I see that you are not above blackmail.” “Just trying to make my way in the world.”

“…just trying to make my way in the world…” Reggie laughed to himself. “yes…of course.” It was then he withdrew his knife from his cloak.

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

Hot air of his very lungs rushed around him. He found it difficult to breath. It was like drawing in flame…a feeling that he would rather forget. As he made his way down a narrow alley, he finally stopped and collapsed against a wall. Reggie’s hands now dripping with blood, he knew he had to hide the evidence of his latest crime.

Quickly, he found a rag stuffed between a few wooden crates and wiped them off. A knife? How foolish! He thought to himself. A knife leaves blood, and blood is a trail to be found out. He surely will be found out now. Strangulation was so nice and tidy. There is nothing left behind….except the body.

He kept running down the narrow passages until he found the back entrance to his lodgings. He will be all right once inside, he thought to himself. “I managed this far…” he muttered as he looked through the little window of inn’s lower hall. There, he saw many a man and woman in jubilant conversation and dance. He could see a woman dressed in robin egg blue satin and her amble bosom peeking out the top of her lace edged bodice. All this to draw the attentions of a suitor towards her. She whispered in his ear and coyly flirted with him. She then took her fan and tapped his shoulder. Reggie remembered this game that all woman play.

In a candle lit hall, all eyes were upon her. She joyfully smiled at those she passed by. “Well, if I live and breathe!” Shouted Reggie over the din of a boisterous crowd.

“Its’ our very own pretty little Lilly McKinney come to grace us with her presences and charm!” It was then Lilly stopped and greeted them all with her best theatrical curtsy, and was immediately surrounded.

“Did you given them what they asked for, Lilly?”

“…And them some!”

“I would fancy seeing such a fine lady grace the stage.” Swooned an older court lady. Lilly then turned and without missing a beat smiled.

“Then you best not be coming to see me! Fancy isn’t what they pay for with Lilly McKinney before them!”

A roar of laughter over took the room and Reggie approached Lilly taking her hand in greeting. “Does it ever grow tiresome, hearing that applause and laughter?” He asked her as he kissed her cheek. “Only if I grow weary of being adored!” She replied with a wink!”

[Lady Violet Cunningham]

Lady Violet paced her parlor, taking occasional sips from her glass of Irish whiskey. It had been six months since that chit of a niece had left Port Royal. Escaping to sea in that heathenish ship of hers. Well, Violet thought, she was sure to come back, as that Frenchman she had taken up with was still in town. It gave Violet a headache to think how hard she had worked to convince the girl to go back to England, where a very advantageous marriage awaited her. Ungrateful gutter snipe!

Her husband, Albert, entered the room. "My dear Violet, are you still fretting over that niece of yours?"

She turned her wrath on him. "Of course I'm still fretting! The stupid creature has no idea what she has brushed aside."

"Oh, I think she does." Albert replied, pouring whiskey from the decanter. "It's why she left."

"Bah! She may think she has outwitted me, but she is sorely mistaken."

"You're going to give yourself a fever, wife. Let it go. You cannot force a woman of her nature to do something she doesn't choose to do."

Lady Violet stopped pacing and shot her husband a furious look. "Well, I can see I can expect no help from you!"

Albert settled into a cushioned chair. "You expect correctly. I am not going to get myself into a pucker over this affair. I have better things to occupy my time. Besides, you're only angry because you lost the battle."

"Well," Lady Violet said, "I may have lost this battle, but I intend to win the war. And make no mistake, Albert, war it is!"

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

Lilly took another long swallow of her wine. Reggie sat next to her as they continued their conversation. All London thinks you a sensation, Lilly! Her eyes peeked over the rim of her fine wine glass, then she placed it down upon the table. She smiled at him, coyly. Thank you, Reggie! I am on top of the world!

Yes, too bad Captain Sterling does not feel the same way. Said Reggie as he refilled her glass. Lillys face then fell. She did not expect him to mention his name tonight.

Oh! not him again, Reggie. She said with a sigh. I can have my fill of any of the lords and dukes that frequent the theater to see me. I am sure they are looking to add a bit of glitter to their dull lives?! She said with a smirk. "One justs has to find themselves a well-placed man, then make him fall in love with them, that is all She only smiled in return.

She again was playing the game. He knew that she would do anything to make Captain Sterling hers and hers alone. It was just that he was not as well off as the rest of those who wooed her. She longed for security and a man with wealth was the only way. Yet, in the meantime, he knew she would take lovers to suit her financial needs.

My Dear Lilly, did you ever consider monogamy?

I did actually, but Ive since recovered from it quite nicely, thank you!

Edited July 24, 2009 by Reginal S. Killingsworth

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

The dream was soon broken by the sudden sound of footfall behind him. Are you all right, Sir? A soft, shaken voice with an accent made him turn quickly. There in the dark shadows was a young native boy 16, if a day, looking at back at him.

Are you all right, Sir? Have you injured yourself? Suddenly Reggie remembered that he still held the cloth soaked in blood. I will call for a physick if you need, sir? From the distance across the way, Reggie then heard the demanding shout of an elderly man. It is my Master, Sir. I must go to him. He can help you, Sir. Come. Again, another shout from the other side of the street demanded a reply. Reggie took a step closer to the servant boy.

Edited August 13, 2009 by Reginal S. Killingsworth

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

The Professor now stroked his snow white beard and looked puzzled. He now had another stranger invading his home. The professor was more than put off by the very appearance of this man who now sat quietly staring into fireplace flames.

The professor stood at the door jam, looking into the dimly lit room. It was apparent that the stranger looked more like a monster than a man. He had taken to sitting in the professors favorite chair, but did not utter one word to his most gracious host or to the servant. The light from the fireplace danced across the man's face, half hidden by the brim of his large beaver hat.

The Professor raised his head slightly, eyes darting back and forth from stranger and servant, then he waved the servant boy away.

He had to admit, curiosity got the best of him. The Professor inched his way into the parlor.

Not a word came from the chair by the fireplace. It was then the sound of snoring caught his attention. As the Professor peered over the side of the chair, he noticed that his monstrous guest was fast asleep.

Edited August 12, 2009 by Reginal S. Killingsworth