Port Royal, Part Two

[LadyBarbossa]

Unlike some who came to Port Royal for drunken carousing, the Lady was more interested in business. Beridding the hold of some items and gaining a profit in return was more than worth this risky trek through the now muddy streets of this wicked port.

Stepping out of the 4th shop visited with good prospects. A dainty walking cane along side whilst wearing something a proper lady who was traveling would wear in a find mixture of crimson, black and a hint of gold tones. Brunette locks curled and tucked back into a fine silk ribbon all tied in a bow as those haunting hazel eyes glanced about for another shop to do business with.

Behind her, a young lad at aged 15 and of good height, walked with his aunt. The boy greatful to have ran away and by luck and chance found his aunt, one whom he thought was dead. Now he wa living adventures rather than dealing with family sqwabbles and hardships. This was Davy Kidd.

With the woman and the lad, was a middle eastern man and a frenchman. The frenchman was walking along with, writing in a small little pad of ivory with some lead piece of the transaction arrangement they just made.

Stopping she looked about. "Ideas, Gentlemen?" before she turned around to look at the trio of men who accompanied her.

The Frenchman, Pontier, still writing was finishing up as Ranjit looked about, "Man-ee ah mer-chunt," he said in his thick accent. "Pur-hops,,, dar," motioning to another general store.

Nodding she agreed with the decision. "Then there we shall go."

And so it was like that for the rest of the afternoon. Going shop to shop to peddle, making arrangements for the goods available. The shopkeeps agreed to go to the ship and have a look. Some items sold in an auction like manner. This would increase the odds of payday for herself and the crew.

Back on the ship, Graves overlooked as everything was stowed and items in the hold were being prepped for removal. But not yet.

Unfortunately-

"Master Graves!" yelled a man as he motioned to another foppish and snobbing gent who strolled up alongside the ship and up the gangway, "Permission to come aboard, I need to speak with the Captain."

"Permission denied. Captain is not here." Graves replied from the railing.

"I need no permission to simply come aboard-"

"On this vessel ye do," Graves stated in a strong by calm voice. "Captain is not here. Leave a message and return later."

The fop was rather beside himself and didn't like being spoken to in such a way. With a wrinkle and sniff of the nose, "Very well, docking fee is owed before sundown. Inform yo'r Captain of that which needs to be paid by then." Then the man looked over the vessel. "Or the men of His Majesty claims this fine vessel."

Graves was rather iron clad and no expression. Rest assured, His Majesty will NOT claim this vessel. Fee 'll be paid."

The fop snubbed again "We shall see," he said as he turned about to harass another vessel.

"Damn buggers," Toeffen hissed as he wandered up next to Graves.

"Yeesss, well," Graves watched the fop walk away then glanced to Toeffen, "He's the least of our worries. Rest assured, he won't confiscated the Resurrection." Then looked back out over the dockside as a merchant man walked up, "Permission to come aboard by invitation of yo'r Capta'n," said the man.

"Permission granted, come aboard." Graves replied. "Mr. Wyldes? Would ye please escort this Merchant Gentleman down to th' hold?"

Wyldes moved to the hatch that led below. "After ye, sir," then followed the merchant down below to show him what goods they had.

[Marisol de Sansal]

Marisol appraised the two men as they entered the tavern. Beside her, Ahmet came to attention, his black eyes fixed on the pair, while his right hand casually reached across to the scimitar at his belt. Calmly she touched his arm and shook her head. Ahmet’s grip on the hilt of the wickedly curved blade loosened.

“Mercenaire?” Marisol whispered.

“Non. Assassin,” Ahmet whispered back.

Switching from French to Turkish, Marisol said quietly, “As soon as the rain has stopped, we will leave.”

“I would be glad of that, Mistress. I do not like the feel of this place.”

Once again she turned her gaze on the two men, whom she guessed to be brothers, for they looked so much alike, then spoke softly to her guardian, “Neither do I, my friend. Neither do I.”

[LadyBarbossa]

Exiting the store then turning about to face Pontier as he came out followed by Kidd and Ranjit. Pontier with his nose nearly buried in the small ledger of sorts.

"T'anz-ak-sun com-plet," the man said with a heavy french accent that most would be hard pressed to understand at times.

Nodding, Ana glanced about. Spotting the Sinner's Neede. " How much spirits had we t' spare, Mr Pontier?"

Pontier looked up to Ana but said nothing. Rather baffled by this so to speak.

She turned to look at Pontier. "5 barrels of rum perhaps? Maybe a bottle of madeira or whiskey?"

Pontier still baffled, stuck with that deer in the headlight glazed over stare. "Aahhh, Oui. A za-poz."

Nodding, Ana then smiled to Kidd. "Run back t' th' Resurrection an' obtain a fine bottle o' maderia and a bottle of rum. Then meet us at th' Sinner's Neede," as she motioned with her hand to the sign out front but a few feet away.

Kidd paused a moment then nodded. A willing lad for now to do as asked and told but he had potential.

So, while young Kidd took off towards the Resurrection at the docks, Ana made for the Sinner's Neede with Pontier and Ranjit in tow.

Ranjit opened the doorway to the Sinner's Neede. Ana strolled in followed by Pontier then Ranjit.

Glancing around at the rabble that be milling about here, she made her way as best as one could towards the counter... and waited for someone of the Sinner's Neede to wait upon them.

[Liam Finn]

Ian an' I sat near th' fire and dried off some when Sully came around an' got us a bottle o' whiskey and pints. Upon askin' where Thomas was, he spoke in a low tone as ta not be overheard that he'd stepped out a moment, should be back shortly. Brightening up some he inquired where we'd been. Ian an I grinned wolfishly at each other and I told Sully we'd taken care o' some business fer Mister Neede, and was back if he had more. We knew there was plenty o' evil men around an' we'd be happy ta give 'em a heave toward their maker.

[bosun red]

aye me eyes seem to be drawn to the two figures by the fire. A bottle of whiskey before them they seemed to be relaxing into thier surroundings. Another drink or two and t'would be perfectly confident in thier skins. Perhaps I will introduce me self an see if tey be gambling men or not.

Low an behold cap'n Ana, here? I heard she was looking for profit when she left the ship with her escort....................I wounder what buisiness draws her into the sinners needle? either she didn't see me or has already forgot me short stay oboard the "reserection".

Aye half a bottle left between um. Tis time to start a game. (stands and makes way between rift raft, tables, and chairs)

Parden me my lady(figure takes marisol's hand, bows deeply, and kisses the palm lingeringly) me boots have a mind of ter own. Forgive me for muddding your finery.(noticing the company at her table I guessed her perfession) Perhaps later ye might retire to me chamber for a night cap and some (figure clears throught)....ahem...."intelligent conversation"? I would be more than glad to give ye a proper apology for stepping on yer hem.

[Thomas Neede]

Thomas had spent far more time than he had intended with the Governor's men. They required him to turn in his ledgers to be scrutinized by the King's commisioners to make sure his tithe was being paid appropriately. Thomas smiled as he made his way through the rain soaked streets. He paused to wipe the rain from his glasses. He looked at his feet and saw a drunken sod blathering about in the mire. The man had passed out on a pile of garbage behind his neighbor's ordinary. Thomas removed the false log from his pocket and tossed it upon the pile. He laughed again and wove his way to the rear entrance of 'The Neede'.

Sully heard the commotion in the back room and ran down the hallway followed by the twins. The twins had taken a liking to the pudgy innkeep and his quiet disdain for those without a darker side. They felt the 'Neede' was a home of sorts to them and they made sure the place remained proper.

"Well gentlemen, it has been a while," Thomas offered. "I take it your mission was successful."

The twins both jostled each other and began to regale Thomas in the tale of the two mens demise. Thomas tried to keep up with the story while standing soaked in the dimly lit hall. He could hear the din from his establishment growing louder with every minute. Sully removed his master's coat and hung it on the hook by the rear door. Thomas waved the boys in to his back office. The fought each other even walking through the door. Thomas never turned but did smile. Sully removed a glass from Thomas' cabinet and poured from Master Neede's own stock. Thomas waved towards the twins and Sully poured Ian and Liam a glass.

The young boy offered the lads their drink and Thomas his. Ian started to drink, but Liam punched him smartly in the shoulder. The Innkeep stood near the fire glowing brightly in the dim office. Sully whispered in Thomas's ear that a princess in the great room was looking for a room for the night. "In due time Edward," he whispered as he patted the boy on the head. "Sully, please close the door." Thomas inhaled deeply, "Gentlemen, I have many tasks that men of your...stature, may be interested in participating in. Dangerous, yes. Distasteful, of course. Not that that has dissuaded you before." The twins were enraptured. Unsure of many of the words Thomas had spoken, they were sure they had met the man to find them work. The kind they were good at. "Do we have an accord?" Thomas raised his glass.

Both men, in unison, replied with a mere, "Aye."

[Marisol de Sansal]

The common room was becoming more and more crowded. A tall woman dressed in fine men’s clothing entered, a young man with her. They stood at the counter, still waiting for the illusive Mr. Neede to appear.

When another young man approached her and propositioned her, she put on an appearance of shocked indignation, which was kinder than telling him he could not afford her.

“You forget yourself, sir." she said. "I am here to rent accommodations for the night, or at least I was. But now that I observe the less than savory nature of this place, I am of a mind to seek lodgings elsewhere. As soon as the rain has stopped, my guardian and I will be leaving.”

A commotion in the back room had the two brothers following another man into the private area of the tavern. Marisol supposed that Mr. Neede had finally returned, but since she had no desire to stay in this place longer than necessary, it was no longer important that she speak to him.

Ahmet touched her arm and gestured to the door. A new patron had entered, but the open door revealed that the rain had ceased. Again, he spoke to her softly in Turkish, “We should go now, before there is trouble.”

“I agree.”

She stood, collected her skirts about her, and following her guardian, who was tense and prepared to defend her, should any of the rough men in the room make advances. “Come quickly,” he said.

Together they threaded their way between the tables, heading for the exit.

[Thomas Neede]

Thomas and Sully left the reprieve of the back room and made their way into the throng. Edward quickly pointed out the 'princess' as he had called her. Thomas noticed the large Turk in front of her, clearing the way for an early exit. He moved behind the bar to avoid the crowd now singing loudly by the main table. That simple step aside gained him several strides ahead of the pair.

In mere seconds, he arrived to meet the Turk at the door.

Thomas Neede bowed slightly, "Does the princess require lodging my good sir?"

Edited May 6, 2009 by Thomas Neede

[Ian Finn]

Thomas and Sully left me bruddah an' I but we followed. Thomas went behind the bar, but doesn't usually. We watch'd him an' Sully talk while they watch'd a funny dressed man an' a woman like a princess try to leave. Liam pull'd out 'is knife an' stuck 't up 'is sleeve. I watched 'im an' shook my head no. He kept it there just th' same an' walked up to th' bar. I felt for me pistol in me back an' mov'd th' handle for me t' grab quickly. We wait'd an' watch'd.

[Marisol de Sansal]

Marisol stood quietly, assessing the situation. So far the encounter had not drawn much attention from the other patrons, but that could change. And although Mr. Neede blocked their way, he did not appear to be threatening in any way, except maybe for the avaricious glint in his eyes.

Ahmet, like a pillar of stone, stayed between Marisol and Mr. Neede, but he did not draw the scimitar. Like her, he must have sensed it would only escalate the situation.

With fluid grace Marisol moved around Ahmet and spoke directly to Mr. Neede. “My guardian and I had thought to stay the night here, but I see that you are not equipped to meet the needs of one such as myself. Therefore, we intend to seek accommodations elsewhere. You will forgive me, and take it as no slight to your own establishment, for though I am no princess, I do have certain requirements. Call it the frivolity of a woman used to being spoiled. I am sure you understand.” She smiled at Mr. Neede, knowing that he was fully aware of what she was.

Men always knew, no matter how refined she was, or how costly her dress. Even that simple ship’s crewmen had known, and accosted her as if she were a lowly streetwalker. Well, she was no common whore, nor would she be treated like one, or live like one. She was trained for better things, and better men. Men with money.

“If you please, Mr. Neede,” she said politely. “Step aside so that we may leave.”

[Thomas Neede]

The innkeep stared at his boys who stood upright watching his eyes. He slowly moved his head side to side, nearly unnoticeable. Thomas did nothing more than nod and step to the side. "Thank you for patronizing the 'Sinner's Neede' m' lady." Thomas's exaggerated bow led the guardian through the portal back to Port Royal. The pair made their way back into the slop of the streets. Thomas stood for moment and watched them disappear.

The rain had abated, but left a cloud above the ordinary. Thomas felt this. The revelry had nearly spun to a whisper. "Ladies and gentlemen, Ladies and gentlemen," he repeated above the din. The crowd quieted to a hush as he raised his hands above him. "It has come to my attention that your money is not goode in this establishment." The crowd looked at each's momentary partners. Even the twins were confused. "The Sinners Neede is not well enough for royalty," he pronounced, "but it is for likes of you lot. Please keep your coin t'night. Th' Neede has prospered much by your own hand in these past six months. Thankee to all." Each head spun about more a a frantic pace. Thomas continued, "The bottles and taps will flow until dry. If you are caught trying to pay, you'll answer to my boys," with a flourish, Thomas waved to Ian and Liam now as dumbfounded as the rest of the patrons. Several bottles had already been slammed upon the bar top. Several more followed. As the gravity of the last few remarks sank in, a lout near the fireplace yelled, "It's bloody free!! Huzzah Thomas!!" Cheers of Huzzah went up around the Neede. Thomas had now firmly planted his tavern within the commonplace of Port Royal, Jamaica.

[LadyBarbossa]

Watching from the "safety" of the counter side, she couldn't help but to be caught up in this rather interesting mild drama.

With the annoucement of the "free" drinks, made every man in the tavern brighten up with some newfound spring of energy. More drink they demanded. Poor place 'll be dry before long. Perhaps it would be a good thing for her.

She was on edge a moment ago when men looked like they were being kicked out of the tavern and denied their daily ovedose of rum and mead.

Standing there as the tavern seemed to become moreso... wicked. Louder, crazier... almost border obnoxious with the lot here.

She waited for the Master Keep still.... patiently.

Trying to.

As a wench walked by she grabbed hold of the poor lass to halt her and almost yanker her about face.

"Inform th' Master Tavern Keep that someone be here t' conduct business. 'specially if he wishes t' keep these louts well saturated and satisfied so's not t' riot and roar."

The poor wench was both annoyed and edgey as it was. Nodded and swiftly went off... served a couple more tables, got a glare from the Lady before making off to find Thomas Neede. She knew better than to bother Mr Neede. But at this point, she didn't know who's wrath would be worse... Mr Neede.. or the mysterious Lady.

[Liam Finn]

Me bruddah an' I now had a bottle o rum each to our own and al I could do was laugh at the generosity of Mr. Neede. "Ian! if Mister Neede c'n afford ta let us drink all we can on his coin, we didn't ask enough fer our services! Ha Ha!" Ian nearly spit his rum on the floor, but managed ta swallow it down and laughs wit me, punchin' me shoulder. "Wonder wot his next business fer us might be? Some food wit this generous drink would be the thing an' once those that pass out, do so, we'll have his ear an' find wot's wot, Aye bruddah?" Ian nodded an' we went off ta sit and get some food brought to our table. Most everyone was revelin' heartily, wit a couple folks seeming ta be such stiffs as ta not even raise a glass ta Thomas. Poor bastards need ta let loose or all that stiffness could send 'em to an early grave.

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

Reggie sat on the edge of his bed rummaging through his meager items which survived his passing and the fire that destroyed the Inn he stayed at several months back.

In his possession were two letters from Darnley that spoke of his ‘employment’, a small note from his beautiful but deadly cousin, Tess St. Claire, and a small brass key. He carefully took a piece of hemp twine and laced it through the key’s head tying it in a knot, then placing it around his neck for safe keeping. With his left hand he managed to tuck under his linen shirt then padded the key to his chest as if to reassure his self of its location.

Noise from the street drew him near the balcony window once again. The rain was light but consistent that day. He wondered what was taking Bess and if she was successful with obtaining what was rightfully his. It was then Reggie’s eyes were drawn to the little two -story flat across the street. There in the upper most window, he could see a figure of an old man walking about his dimly light room.

It had been almost three whole months of solitude for Reggie. When he was finally well enough to leave the croaker’s dwelling, he was determine not to draw too much attention to himself. He wanted to make sure that those who knew of him in his past life fully accepted that he had perished that horrible night. This would make things easier for him to implement his plan of revenge. Yet, there were a few things he still needed to do before everything would fall into place.

Reggie’s eyes narrowed again as he tried to focus into the dimly lit room across the way. “It issss the caussse…It isss the caussse…” He whispered to himself. “

[Ransom]

On his way to the Sinner's Neede, Ioan passed a woman who stopped him dead in his tracts. She was unlike anything he had ever seen—exotic, sensuous, and exciting in a way he had never experienced before. Her Turkish guardian cast him a scathing look, as if to tell him this precious gem was not for him. Stumbling, Ioan continued on his way, and entered the tavern, thirsty after a long day of hard labor, and still soaking wet from the rain. But the image of the woman lingered, as did the spicy scent of her perfume.

Ioan had taken a seat with some of the other workers from the warehouse, who were celebrating the fact the Mr. Neede had ordered free drinks for the house. Ioan settled in, ordered an ale, and was about to join in a game of cards when he spied the two men at the counter. Bloody hell, he thought, it's the same two I met on the stairs of the tavern that burned.

Ducking lower in his chair, he hoped the twins wouldn't notice him, and he would be left alone to drink his free ale in peace.

[bosun red]

That tart!, I could but not help laughing under me breath. If she only new what she actually turned down. (still smiling to self) I looked around for the brothers and caught a glimps of thier backs as they regressed down the hall. o'there be plenty of fish in this barrel. (heads toward an empty set at a card game across the way) ye boys look like ye need to win some of me coin may a join yer table?

Aye ye coin, his coin, an if possible a lil of me own back, put down yer ancore an we'll deal ye in. As I joined the group me thoughts drifted back to what the whore said "less than savory" aye that would be a just discription of the lot in here and then thier was the cap'n Ana standing straight and stern, "patiently" at the counter. she seemed quiet out of place in her men's clothes and soft colors in clashing comparasin to the rough, unkeept, rabble around her and her escort.

As the main center table broke into a drunkin shanty the brothers seemed to just apear at the counter a bottle in each of 'ums hand. After winning the first hand I noticed a group of dock hands cummin in smelling of sweat and fish. Loud and course they were prasing Master Neede for his flowing taps. At this rate the taps would be run dry soon from drankage or spilliage I could not say,but empty mugs would only motivate this mob to find other ammusment. As the bar maid went bye I shouted "Another round fer me friends" and gave her a sharp slap to her buttocks, just to get her movin and not forget what she be sent after.

[Thomas Neede]

The Sinner's Neede

Thomas made his rounds to the rapidly filling tables. Slaps on the back and rounds of 'Huzzah' followed him through the tavern. Sully rushed to his side and told him of an impending meeting with a waiting patron. Thomas nodded and smiled and patted the boy on his head. "Send him back to my office Edward." "Her, sar." Thomas stopped in mid-step. "We've discussed harlots within the ordinary Edward." "Doesn't seem to be, sar." Thomas removed his glasses and wiped them on a handkerchief from his pocket. "Intriguing. Carry on Mister Sullivan. Oh, and send one of the twins back." "Very well sar."

Thomas moved down the hall and double-checked the lock on the back door. In his office, Thomas poured himself a glass of Madeira. Drinking it fully, he topped off the glass again. The pudgy accountant sat behind his large desk and removed the ledger he used as a true mark of his income. Thomas knew that after tonight he would have to restock much, if not all of his kegs and hogsheads. He had the money, most definitely, but the supply may cause a problem. He smiled. The twins. With that, a knock arrived at his door.

"Come."

[Marisol de Sansal]

Once outside the Sinner's Neede, Marisol paused, suddenly undecided. Although the rain had stopped, the lane was a quagmire of mud and filth. Dusk was settling in, and the stench of oil lamps and torches added their acrid perfume to the dense, humid air. Overhead, gulls screeched, and dove over the road, plucking up bits of refuse. One bird, misjudging it's soggy prize, dropped the revolting carcass of a dead rat almost at Marisol's kid-slippered feet.

It was not, she decided, a good time to be wandering the streets of an unfamiliar city. Reluctantly she spoke again to Ahmet in his native Turkish. "It is no use, my friend. We must return to the Sinner's Neede. At least for tonight. A room there cannot be more dangerous than the coming darkness and these fetid streets."

Ahmet let his hawk-like gaze sweep over the wharves, the spiked masts of the ships like a forest on the water. "I cannot agree, Mistress. We are too near the docks, and the rabble who frequent them. You remember what the sailors were like aboard the Dante?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Yes, I remember all too well. But we are as babes in the cradle here, and do not know where would be the safest place to find refuge. Or even if there is such."

It was clear to her Ahmet was not in agreement. "I do not like the Sinner's Neede, but if you order it, Mistress, I will obey, as you know."

"I think of us both, Ahmet. Better we stay in safety behind a locked door, than be garroted in a dark alley."

He bowed his head briefly, then turned and led the way back into the tavern. When they entered, the noise and pipe smoke engulfed them. Marisol, her eyes squinting against the tobacco haze, looked for the familiar form of Mr. Neede, but could not find him. Also, all the tables were now full of laughing, drinking sailors.

Suddenly, a dark-haired man rose from a nearby table and gestured to her. She did not know him, but he motioned to his chair, clearly offering it to her. Smiling, she approached him, while the other men he'd been playing cards with regarded her with both annoyance and admiration.

"Please," the man said. "Take my seat. I was losing the game anyway."

"You are very kind," Marisol replied, and took the offered chair.

Ahmet stood silently behind her.

"I don't think your protector likes me very much," the man said.

Marisol smiled. "Yes, he can be quite fierce, should the need arise. But I can see that you are all gentlemen, and would give him no reason to pull his scimitar to defend my honor. So, at what game do you play? Perhaps I might join in? At least until Mr. Neede returns and I can arrange for a room."

Edited May 15, 2009 by Marisol de Sansal

[iPirate]

(forgive my absence, I've been busy with some real life affairs. I know my own story line has not impacted the main events but it's still rude to vanish after making a start. My appologies)

Tiberius stood at the dock and could scarcely believe his eyes. The ship that had been his only home for the past... ... ... few... years was rapidly shrinking to a dot in the distance. He went over the events of the past few days and came to a dishartening conclusion.

The Captain, who had been the closest thing to a father figure he'd ever known, had provided him with clean threads, a fine sword and a pouch of gold. Everything he'd need to make a new start on his own. Then he'd sailed off into the sun without Tiberius.

Tiberius wandered the streets, trying to decide what to do next. The sounds of revelry came from a nearby tavern and Tiberius decided that was as good a place to start as any. He congradulated himself on his first decision as a truly free man when he discovered the rum was free.

Edited May 15, 2009 by iPirate

[Liam Finn]

Me bruddah an' I was havin' such a time celebratin' the generosity o Mister Neede that I almost didn't hear Sully callin' to us. He caught my eye and I turned to him, clappin' a paw on his shoulder an' almost toppled the lad. "Aye Sully! Wot ye be wantin'?" He cupped a hand to his mouth. "Thomas wants one of ye in his office!" I turned to Ian who was busy watchin' some o' the crowd, so I smacked him in that arm to get his attention. "Thomas wants ta see me in 'is office! Keep a sharp eye bruddah o' mine!" Ian smiled and laughed, nodding his head and turned back to the crowd. I stood an' followed Sully through the crowd and toward Thomas' office.

[Professor Angus Trilby]

Trilby spent most of the day in the dimness of his study, carefully eviscerating a bright jungle bird brought to him by a native boy, in exchange for a small bag of sugar. The bird, the size of a English robin, was then placed in a jar of salt to cure the delicate hide and feathers. When finished, the mummified carcass would be added to Trilby’s collection of flora and fauna, started ever since he’d arrived in Jamaica some ten years ago.

It was dusk, and Souris, his house boy, was fixing supper. To Trilby’s trained nose, it smelled like something with a lot of peppers. Retrieving a decanter of Madeira, and a fine crystal glass from the sideboard, he once again climbed the stairs to the upper floor, and the outdoor terrace, inwardly congratulating the Spaniard who had originally designed the house.

After the rain, the terrace tiles glistened in the setting sun, and water dripped from the cane shade-cloth. Unfortunately, Souris had not retrieved the pillows in time, and they slumped in soggy heaps on the chairs.

“Blasted boy!” Trilby muttered, putting down the decanter and glass.

He tossed the sodden pillow from his chair, took the edge of his robe and dried the seat, poured himself a glass of wine, and settle in to enjoy the sunset. His eyes were drawn, however, not the the glory of the setting sun, but to the house across the way. To his dismay, no figure stood at the window, which only fueled Trilby’s desire to know who the man was.

A crunching at his feet made Trilby glance down. Cleopatra, her tail switching, chewed vigorously on a large beetle. His scientific eye noticed it was not one included in his collection, but he knew better than to attempt to pull the insect from the cat’s mouth. To emphasize the point, Cleopatra gave a low growl, and continued crunching.

“Evil tempered mauggie,” Trilby muttered, then sipped his wine, all the while keeping one squinted eye on the window across the way.

[Reginal S. Killingsworth]

It was apparent that the performance was less than tolerable to her audience. Elizabeth could feel that the last act was lacking and she blamed the weather and the poor stage direction from her newly hired stage manager. He boasted well on the stage and in bed. A mistake she would never make again. Come morning, he too would be gone along with three other actors, half the costume stock and props. She needed to make a little money quickly knowing that the lenders would soon be at her doorstep. She had been able to keep them at bay for almost three months, but she was running out of cleaver stories and well fabricated lies. As she took her last bow and walked off the stage with the rest of the actors, she snatched the goblet of wine from her maid servant’s hand and hissed her latest demand.

"I want everyone to be here first thing tomorrow morning at 8 of the clock to go over our newest play. Do not think you all are going to spend a late night about the town either. I need quick minds and sharp tongues about you all!" The maid servant quickly begged her audience with her mistress. "If you please, Mistress. There is a woman awaiting your audience in your dressing room." "A woman? Come now, Ella. I have no time for this." Eilzabeth said with a smirk. The maid quickly walked with Eilzabeth on her way back to her dressing room. "But mistress, she said that she was here to discuss the business of her employer." Eilzabeth stopped in her tracks. "What's this? I no sooner do I receive a copy of his manuscript in my hands and the famous playwrite wishes to discuss business? What is he up to?" Ella shrugged her shoulders. "I know not. Though, she looked a bit eager, Mistress." Eilzabeth's eyes darted back and forth in thought. "I bet she is...as is her employer. No one has ever dared to push me into a corner...especially where my theater is concerned! We'll just have to have a word with this woman, won't we?"

As she opened the door to the room she found Bess sitting at Elizabeth's dressing table. Elizabeth looked at Bess for a moment, gazing her up and down trying to figure out why she decided to appear in common work clothes. She quickly smiled and entered the dressing room closing the door behind her so that others of the acting company would not over hear her dealings with the new playmaster's servant. Bess stood quickly then made a small bow upon seeing her. "Mistress Remsfield, my master sends me to discuss matters of business with you. I hope that we will..." She quickly took off her hat and wig. "Oh, I see your master cannot wait." She said quickly untying her neckstock and slipping behind her dressing screen.

"No matter, I shall be happy to discuss our business here and now, that's if you do not mind my changing into something a bit more...comfortable." Bess coughed an uncomfortable cough and turned her back towards the dressing mirror. "Oh, of course not Mistress. I come here with a letter from my master stating a business transaction that you promised to fulfill." It was then a pair of britches flew over the top of the screen and rest there along with the shirt the actress had been wearing. Once again, she cleared his throat. "As I was saying...." "Yes, yes..yes...of course. I plan to keep my part of the barging. It's not every day a great man like your master gives a Lady such as myself an opportunity to show him what she is truly worth!" Bess darted her eyes back and forth in contemplation. "Worth?" She whispered to herself. Was her master now in the habit of acquiring women of fame for a price? This did not make sense to much sense to her. It was the actress that owed her master coin. Perhaps they had a falling out and in doing so, her master instructed to get back a few coins before they had ended it all together.

Eilzabeth step out from the screen donning a lovely blue gown. It was then she turned and saw the famous 'Eilzabeth of Druery Lane". She stood there and stared. Now she did not make a habit of staring at women, let alone actresses upon the stage. "Here, the letter if you please." She said holding out her hand and looking at Bess. "It is a bill." Bess muttered. "A bill? How can I have a bill from your master...I haven't even performed his play yet." She looked concern as she she opened the letter.

It was upon reading the letter that Elizabeth's face started to turn a shade of crimson. At first a low growl came from deep in her chest. Her words were low and somewhat tainted with a seething anger only women of such theatrical ability could have. Bess watched her turn from a lovely creature of poise unto a she devil in less than a minute flat.

"How...dare...he...even...think...of...Oooo!" The words came slowly and evenly, but as she looked into her eyes she feared that her life might be in peril. "You are Killingsworth's servant?!" She shouted shredding the bill in fury and throwing it back into her face. "It was instructed by my master to come and collect the fee in full, Mistress and I was told not to come back until I had it." She then walked up to Bess and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Then take a bloody seat...for you will be making yourself at home for quite some time." She then pushed her down into the dressing table chair. "I must protest, Mistress!" Bess said trying to stand. Eilzabeth quickly placed her hand upon her shoulder to keep her in place. "Are you a thickie? I don't have your master's money!" She said once again bellowing a deep and demanding tone. As Bess looked up at her, Elizabeth said nothing. What was she going to tell her master when and if she got back to the inn?

"I need more time." She demanded as she looked through her jewelry box for something. "I will have a play opening within three weeks and rest a sure it will be brilliant! It was written by the famous playwright, Mr. Dryden." Bess stood and watched as Elizabeth franticly look about her table. "I am sure that it would be, Mistress, but I need the money now." As she opened the last of her drawers she pulled from it the stack of bills that her maid servant had hidden from him upon his arrival. Elizabeth stood there clutching the bills in her hands. "As you can see, your master is not the only one waiting in line for money. And like the rest of them, he will have to wait for his share."

But Bess shook her head at her. "Sorry...won't do!" And then folded her arms, leaning back into the chair. Eilzabeth's eyes widen as she looked at this servant's blatant arrogance towards her. "Fine!" She said throwing the bills in her face. "You 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 she had ever seen in her life to appear standing in front of the dressing room door.

Edited May 18, 2009 by Reginal S. Killingsworth

[bosun red]

El'lo once again Madame.

Aye,me request did fall not on deaf ears but on a warm heart! Luck surely be shining upon me this night. A full cup at the proprieters expense, a full purse as I have not done badly here gaming, and perhaps a full bed to be shared by good company. Madame the bid is yours,are ye in?

[Marisol de Sansal]

Marisol looked up at the young man who had spoken. Her experienced eye noticed the finer features, the lack of facial hair or shadow of beard, the slender wrists, and wondered what the woman was up to. If she chose to disguise herself as a man, it was no business of Marisol's, but she had no intention of succumbing to the crude proposition.

"Yes, I see it is my play." Marisol withdrew a card and placed it on the table. Then she smiled at the lad. "But I fear that is the only play you will receive from me, surrah, and I will thank you to stop offering me money for something I do not sell."

The other men at the table chuckled, and one cuffed the lad on the shoulder in fun. "Best stick to cards, laddie," he chided.

[Ransom]

Ioan laughed with the rest of the men, but inwardly wanted to thrash the young man. He'd already staked his claim on her, even if no one else knew it just yet. Besides, the total amount of coin on the table would be a quarter of what time with this courtesan would cost. He doubted the young lad had enough silver for his next meal, let alone a night with the lady Sansal.

He watched her as she lay the discard on the table. Her hands were slender, smooth, graceful, and adorned with gemmed rings. A set of ruby ear studs winked within the curls of black hair. Ioan's practiced mind tallied the combined worth, and smiled. She smiled back, but her look was knowing.

Yes, Ioan thought, you're a hot-house flower in a garden of weeds, but I'll have you eventually. Then he placed his bet on the table, leaned back in his chair, and sipped his free ale.