Port Royal, Jamaica

[Capt. Sterling]

He remembered in his dream they had gone to the theater that night. Tess had been heavy with her third pregnancy but she was well and there was still time, or so the physicians had claimed. Midway through the second act she had begun to feel strangely, and so he had taken her home. In the carriage she had gone into premature labour and by the time the midwife had arrived and then the doctor, it was all too late. Both tiny babe and mother died upon the dinning room table. He recalled shaking her, pleading with her not to leave him all alone. He remembered it was not right that such a little woman should have lost so much blood…. they had left him there, sitting on the floor at the head of the table, a stained sheet covering his dead wife and son.

He bolted upright in the bed, awake to find the room spinning precariously about him. His heart racing, its beating, pounding in his ears. Already he could feel the next phase of his illness gripping him as the chills began to embrace him… or was that Tess finally doing as he had begged her? He pressed a hand to his mouth. No, she was gone…he did not believe in the foolish tales of ghosts.

He felt like retching and cast a glance about him. A pitcher and basin had been placed conveniently on the floor next to the bed. He leaned down quickly and grabbed the pitcher, before the cold could immobilize him. Vomiting was simple he reasoned with himself... surely any sailor worth his salt was familiar with the act? How many hazy nights had he spent well into his cups of port whilst trapped in some God forsaken port? It was the cold he dreaded more than any other symptom. A reaction to the high fever which caused the sweat to pour off him as his body fought to rid itself of the disease, leaving him and the sheets soaked with perspiration, until his core temperature would plummet in an attempt to regain control over the fever. To him the cold was more painful than any wound he had ever known. Oh God, Tess why did ye leave me?

He missed the table top with the pitcher and watched as it shattered on the floor…. Shards of porcelain erupting like so many splinters on a besieged ship. He leaned over the basin in time to empty the contents of his stomach into it. He fell back against the pillows when he had finished, the foul taste of vomit still in his mouth. He did not even realize he had cut his hand….And then the shivering began, uncontrollable, merciless… until his body shook violently and his teeth chattered so badly that he could barely speak the words… “For pity’s sake, someone shoot me!”

Instead he felt the hands again. This time covering him with heavy quilts and holding him tightly to protect him. In all of five minutes he would be sweating again and then the cold would come once more to take its formidable hold.

[Cheeky Actress]

“And though I would gladly ‘entertain’ such a tempting offer, something tells me there’s much more to you than meets the eye… ‘Mistress’ McKinney!”

As Lilly pulled back from the good Doctor she fixed her skits and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. With a hard intense look, she met with him directly eye to eye.

"Dr. Reiley, perhaps we should not force our alliances, but in truth, it appears to me that we are 'cut from the same cloth'. In any event, we do need to work together to obtain what we greatly need. I pray you will forgive me for my fit of insanity and I shall for give you for yours." She smiled wickedly at him as only she could do.

[Ransom]

I stood on deck in the muggy sunlight as the cannon, by block and tackle, was slowly lifted from the hold. It hung in polished perfection, and I suspected that its original purpose was much the same as it was currently being put to use—a gift. An ornament used to gain the favor of some high-ranking government or military man. It was much too fine to sully by actual use.

The shinning piece had drawn a crowd to the docks. Some noticed the embossed and gilded French lilies and laughed. A few crewmen from boats nearby stood at the rails, appraising the cannon as it was carefully loaded onto the waiting wagon. Two bags of powder followed.

A longboat arrived at the docks, and a fine lady and gentleman climbed out. It took me a moment to realize the woman was Anna. I did not know the gentleman, but recognized one of the boatmen as one of the two whom Ioan had entertained last night. I smiled, and turned my attention back to the wagon.

When all was secure, Ioan came back on board. I handed him the letter to Morgan. "Wait for a reply. When you get it, come straight back to the docks. I'll have the watch keep an eye out for you and send a boat. I'm going to stand the Rakehell off into the harbor a bit, just to be safe."

Ioan glanced at the wagon. The cannon's snout pointd out the back end, aimed in mock defiance at Fort James. Ioan looked back at me. "You think there will be trouble?"

I laughed. "Ioan, in our business, there is always trouble." I made a gesture at the town. "This city is a hotbed of trouble. Did we not hear shots fired earlier? Did not Goose come running from the tavern to tell us of the commotion, and that some "lady" is blundering all over town in a carriage, looking for the missing captain of the Archangel? No matter which quarter the danger comes from, one must constantly be prepared for it."

"Then why offer the cannon, and the rest, in the first place?" he snapped, angry at the rebuff.

"As I recall, that was your idea, was it not?" When he started to protest, I waved a hand. "No, no, don't waste my time with bluster. Deliver the cannon and my letter, and get back to the ship."

For a moment his eyes flashed and I thought he would defy me. I put a hand to my rapier, which I preferred over the heavier cutlass. "Don't be a fool."

Visibly reining himself back, he took the letter, gave me a terse salute, and left the ship. As the wagon rumbled away, I thought to myself, "My poor Ioan. Something needs to be done about you."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The demise of venitian perfection sounded loudly within the cottage's still, futher punctuated by delerium swayed announcements. In the salon on lower floor, valet halted text delvings and looked to companion who's attention lay deeply focused on an aray of cards spread on teak surface. The resound of feet laying pressure to wooden flooring followed upper level disturbance and Aroure sat stock still, head cocked slightly upward. She cast a brief glance to the tellings on burnished surface, then took to the stairs.

Christophe kept his position, glancing to the windows across from where he now sat, and tried to gauge the time of day. The sun was slowly aging, a prospect that was not welcome under the circumstances. He was not overly concerned with Sabastian's thoughts on the matter, the younger had a semi-nonchalant mannerism. Andre', on the other hand would be far from congienial when faced with guest's existance. The eldest sibling carried no love for outsiders, other than fleecing them of what he considered his right and bounty.

The scent prevading upper floor saturated the air mid-stair. Aurore entered the room amidst a mass pandemonium, a sight that hesitated her step minutely. Braving forward, the large double windows looming far wall were releash from moorings and swung out to allow fresher air into the surround. Regardless of being laid low, it was evidant that there was alot of fight left in the Englishman's spirit, though it deminished as storms are sometimes known to do.

The word malaria drifted back to her in hushed tone by one of the men in attendance. She had heard of such, more so since being on the island and it was always spoken off with a tinge of fear. As Sterling calmed his wrestling of haunts, those near at hand backed away with questioning looks cast to one another. The evidence of recent chaos was rectified as she stood at the footboard, a tincture of furrow rifling young brow. As the gathering dispersed, Aurore requested fresh water to be drawn and delivered, along with clean cloth.

Moving around corner piller, she sat gently on the bed's edge and gazed upon Sterling's face. There was no peace to be observed on his features, though his body lay in motionless repose. Aurore studied his face, taking in the subtle and not so subtle nuances that made up the whole. The requested items apeared in silence and she put them to service with soft caress.

Sudden movement drew her attention to window's ledge. The large bird landed, fixing her with its' single dark orb and watched the interior as though it held some secret within its' embodiment older than Death itself. The large corvid's name formed on the fullness of Aurore's lips, a whisper like ancient incantation, "Muninn..."

Realization flooded her senses. If the avian were here, then it had been released to fly home. And if that were the case, her brothers would be returning soon, as well.

[Rateye]

She was a spitfire this lady, and to no surprise! But at the same time, there was no need to prolong the sport.

"If I may?" offered Reiley, as he extended his hankerchief for the lady to use.

With a playful reluctance, Lilly snatched it away. "Still a bastard..." she whispered in a sing-songy way.

"...but of coarse my dear." smirked Reiley, as he drove the horses on. "and the pleasure was all mine.... mostly."

[Capt. Sterling]

He spied her, the first time, from a distance during one of the festivities at court. It was fairly close to midnight, as the King’s guests took their ease after an elaborate banquet . She had arrived late on the arm of John Churchill and all the men’s heads had turned to watch her, her escort ignored or envied, as she took her stroll about the gardens. He had to admit she took his breath away and yet there was something about her that told him he would be playing with fire. After all was she not the most accomplished and sought after courtesan in all of London and had not the King's head been turned as well?

Still he could not help but ask what the commotion was, having only just returned from a year at sea. His reply came in the form of a slap on the back and “oh John, where have you been my lad!” He could only roll his eyes and sigh at his simple companions.

It took him several more attempts before he learned her name, Catherine Grey. It did not take him as long to make his introductions.

He had been in one piece then, twas long before his captivity, the golden haired child of a wealthy and powerful lord, fit, healthy and well made, if not a little vain, and then, as well, blessed with a knack of turning everything he ventured to try his hand at into a success. In his mind, she would be no different..

And so as he bowed before the enchantress it was she who paled and seemed to fall to pieces when confronted with him. Such a reaction only bodes well for a young rascal who thinks he is God’s gift to women and there after he was in hot pursuit of her. And she, for reasons all too personal, quickly welcomed his advances.

He remembered the first time he had carried this magnificent creature in his arms to her bed chamber. It was there after he had pressed her with loving words, that they had truly become most intimate as secrets were uncovered and his eyes were truly opened. From then on, they were in each other’s company until all London talked about the glamorous couple in hushed tones and all too “knowing” innuendoes. It had come as a great shock then to her as well, when he had thrown everything away to marry his Tess. It would take her time, but to her credit, she was the first to forgive him and wish him well, something his father would never do. They had renewed their closeness soon after and since then, no one nor nothing could break them apart...

He opened his eyes enough to see the dim light outside. Was it morning or was the sun just now setting? He did not know, he no longer cared. He was exhausted to say the least. He shifted slightly, the dank smell of illness accosting his senses. Still, he thought, it was good to be home even if Cate had changed around the room she always had ready for him. He would have to thank Andrew March for getting him here safely… And Cate. Only she could mange to plant trees outside his window and in Covent Gardens…. Of all places.

He allowed his exhaustion to overtake him a moment longer. He thought on the dark haired vixen, how very much alike they were. He tried to sit up but couldn’t and knew he should rest but he had to see her. “Cate! Habibi!” he called out but as he looked toward the door, he was taken aback. He was meet with faces he knew but could not place, unless… surely he had left them back in Jamaica…….

“Who are you then and what the bloody hell are you doing here?”

[Ransom]

Due to the previous rain, the sultry stillness prevented me from standing the Rakehell out into the harbor, as I wished. Until Ioan returned with Morgan's reply, there was little for me to do on board. Other than the two men on watch, the rest of my crew of nine had gone ashore, and were in God knows what condition. Feeling frustrated and on edge, I decided to venture into town. I also wanted to find a ship bound for England, for I had another letter, written after the one to Morgan, that needed to be on its way to my brother.

I thought of Rudd, and his impossibly hellish life at home. Our father was a tyrant, with only one blind spot—our oldest brother, Anthony, who would inherit the estate. Rudd, being the second son, was either ignored or treated with contempt. As to my older sisters, I could not imagine the life they now led, so foreign as it was to mine.

If I could only persuade Rudd to leave England, to meet me in the colonies, or here, I know he would love a life at sea. I glanced toward the town and chuckled. Port Royal would horrify Rudd at first, it being so unlike anywhere he's ever been. I determined to investigate it a bit more myself. At least until I received Morgan's reply, which would determine what moves I must needs make next.

But my present costume of soiled shirt, breeches and bare feet would not do for town. Not for a ship's captain, and especially not for a woman. I went below and washed. On reflection, I decided to make my venture into town dressed as a captain—a male captain. I wanted relaxation and information, not the pawing attention of drunkards.

Arrayed in my finest—I especially liked the fine-cut frock coat and lace-trimmed shirt, so lately having adorned the person of a diminuative French quartermaster—I left the Rakehell, delivered Rudd's letter into the safekeeping of the captain of a merchantman due to leave on the next tide, then turned toward town and a much anticipated drink.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

He allowed his exhaustion to overtake him a moment longer.  He thought on the dark haired vixen, how very much alike they were.  He tried to sit up but couldn’t and knew he should rest but he had to see her.  “Cate!  Habibi!” he called out but as he looked  toward the door, he was taken aback.  He was meet with faces he knew but could not place, unless… surely he had left them back in Jamaica…….

“Who are you then and what the bloody hell are you doing here?”

The small gathering parted, backing into the hallway and allowed the Guardian leeway to the small room. Christophe measured the Englishman with a disapproving expression for the loud carry of his voice. The Frenchman's eyes narrowed a degree in futher puntuation to unsaid thoughts and when finally retorting to the imprudenace, it was with chilled tone.

"I am who I am, Capitaine...And you are who you are." He stepped to the far windows and gazed out, finding Aurore below inspecting guest's clothing suspened to dry from recent washing. Christophe turned to fix the other with Trickster's grin. " I am of residence to this abode, you are a guest and not one that is neccessarily of welcomed circumstance. But, welcome or not, you are here."

A young girl appeared in the doorway craddling fresh bed linens and was pinned there by the steely gaze of charcoal eyes. As if a whisper on the wind, the youngster dissappeared. Christophe's focus regained original bearing on the Englishman, "It is my Mistress' mercy that has brought you to lay in comfort on down mattress. She has tended to your delusional behaviour as a constant watcher, though it is sure to draw great disapproval."

The Frenchman's slyed a glance to window's view momentarily and the hard expression softened slightly. When full attention was returned to Sterling, the seriousness did as well. Christophe said nothing for a beat of time, remained frozen with unwavering stare as dying light acted as halo, carressing semi swarth of complextion and the hair that hung loose like spill of dark silk to his shoulders.

The muffled sound of hoofbeats caught his hearing and another glance was stolen to the view outdoors. Christophe moved away from the window towards the doorway with the feline ease that helped support livelihood on Paris streets. Laying one hand on the heavy frame of chamber access, the twined charcoal pools looked over left shoulder to occupant, " It is my advice to you, Capitaine, that when the Mistress next pays call on you, your mannerisms are much improved from recent offering."

The grin flowed forth again.

"You are still in Jamaica, Monsieur...But know you this, within these walls, the established ruling goes back much further in time than this sand and rock spit has been in civilized occupation. And perhaps those names you call to in your state of malady, should pray that you walk freely out and are not carried as you were on arrival."

The sound of soft tread on stairway halted any further voicing and as young woman came close, she was issued a cautioning look. Ignoring the wordless commuinque, she moved around the slender barrier of Christophe's vissage. Aurore's fine honed features offered warmth and poise to English guest; a contrast to the feral fire radiating her large expressive eyes.

[Cheeky Actress]

After an hour's travel, Mistress Lilly and Dr. Reiley found themselves making inquires at one the island largest plantations. Unfortunately, the overseer had no news to tell them. He had been tending his fields all day and saw no one fitting the description of Captain Sterling. Both the Mistress and the Doctor thanked him for his time and they headed back to Port Royal.

Lilly sat sulking on the other side of the carriage as the doctor pondered what to do next. “Hungry?” He asked as his voice broke the constant sound of the horses hoof beat on the mud soaked road. “Yes, I do feel a bit peckish.” “Good, said Reiley. “I know of a tavern were we can get a hot meal and good ale.”

[Cheeky Actress]

But my present costume of soiled shirt, breeches and bare feet would not do for town. Not for a ship's captain, and especially not for a woman. I went below and washed. On reflection, I decided to make my venture into town dressed as a captain—a male captain. I wanted relaxation and information, not the pawing attention of drunkards.... then turned toward town and a much anticipated drink.

The late afternoon sun was beginning to set when Mistress Lilly and Dr. Reiley made their way back to Port Royal. Upon the persuasion of the good doctor, they decided to go to The Shipp tavern. People from all stations soon drifted from the streets and harbors into the taverns. This ritual was something of a reoccurrence that every man and woman in Port Royal became a custom to.

The good doctor held the door as Mistress Lilly entered the room. As she looked about, she saw faces she remembered from the dock, and there were a few from the crew of the Resurrection and the Archangel that she had recalled. She felt a bit more at ease with such surroundings. The doctor quickly took a table near the window and summoned a bar maid to tend to their thirst. “Do you think he’s safe?” Lilly said looking over her tankard of ale. Now the doctor could lie a good tale if he had too. He had done it a dozen times in the past to save his own neck, but this time her felt very strange looking into the eyes of this bewitching creature and telling her tales or falsehoods. “I pray that he is Mistress. We can only hope that he has not been prone to fits of fainting or fallen off his horse somewhere. I can only image that if he did take the dose of med…” “What do you mean, fits?” Lilly said looking very concerned with the Doctor. “What fits? I don’t recall him having any fits when this had occurred in the past.” The doctor suddenly felt the crowd’s eyes upon them.

Mistress Lilly’s loud tone had drawn attention to them, once again. Most of the crowd took notice, including a very young looking boyish-man child standing at the bar trying to drink in piece. The young boy eyed the distressed Lilly and rolled his eyes. Lilly noticed the eye rolling from the boy. It was then she looked back at the doctor. “Why didn’t you tell me of this earlier? He could be dead or floating in the sea somewhere!” Reiley tried to calm the Mistress down with soft hushes and calm words. It was then Mistress McKinney quickly stood from the table and walked to the bar. “And YOU!” She said tapping the young boy upon the shoulder. “You should know that eavesdropping it just plain rude…and keep your opinions to yourself!” It was then the young boy turned and spoke his opinion to Lilly.

[Ransom]

The Shipp Tavern looked interesting. With time to kill, and a tolerable thirst, I entered and stood to the bar. After ordering a glass of Rhenish, I took a refreshing sip and looked around. I recognized no one, which I thought all to the good, until the actress entered with a man I didn't know. She looked much the same as when I had seen her in London. What, four years ago? She was in animated conversation, and since I was already aware of her search for the captain of the Archangel, I thought it might be interesting to cock an ear in her direction.

But, when she loudly voiced her concern about fits, I rolled an eye and went back to my drink. To my horror, the lady left her seat and accosted me, drawing notice I did not want. Quickly I endeavored to fob her off.

"Opinions" I don't recall voicing any opinions. To you or anyone else. You mistake me, madame. Please, rejoin your companion with no further fuss."

I turned away from the distraught, and obviously deranged creature, and attempted to ignore her.

[Cheeky Actress]

Perhaps it was Lilly's concern for her dearly beloved Captain that made her think irrationally. She was, of course, prone to emotional out-busts, but that's what made her so convincing on stage...or so her Patron Darnly had told her. She took a deep breath as the 'young man' turned away from her and took another gulp of his ale. At that moment, Lilly felt odd for confronting a complete stranger with her outburst of emotion. All the while, Dr. Reiley was trying to coax her back to the table with an offer of another goblet of wine or tankard of ale. Lilly was about to head back to the table when she looked at the pale narrow skin of the boy's jaw line. Something wasn't right. She thought to herself. The boy had to at least be one and twenty and yet...not a stitch of facial hair. She narrowed her eyes at the boy. "Young man?" She whispered back at the boy who wanted just to be left alone. "Tell me, what is a boy such as yourself doing here in Port Royal while you should still be clinging to your mother’s teat?”

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling watched the exchange of persons in the room as if he were but viewing a theater production back home… enter one, exit the other… and yet he had been left with little to go on regarding characters, just a terse rebuke and the knowledge of his health spiraling downward at a rapid rate. He shuddered slightly, his appalling behaviour as callous as any vagrant in the theater pit.

Thank God those at home did say their prays and new well how to do so, or he would not be making a fool of himself as he had. Home… the thought that he was not truly there but still stranded in Port Royal chilled him., his shiver all too real. He brought his left hand to rest upon his brow, the heel of his palm pressed against his useless eye. All the trouble he had caused himself and now…how much had he caused to others? The brute in the doorway had been all too clear that someone had extended a kindness that his outburst proved him unworthy of..

He had been chastise by one, beneath his station, and yet the reprimand was honestly served and most certainly deserved.

He shifted slightly as the young woman came closer toward him.

“Lass, my behaviour just now was shameful.” He stopped to catch his breath. He could not remember being this ill before. Another chill played with the blood in his veins. My God, what if he was not able to sail when Morgan finally set his date? A thought he quickly pushed aside…as a dishonor was in more need of rectifying then concern of the future expedition.

“I would be most grateful to thee if thee would be so kind as to inform thy Mistress of my most sincere apologies unto her and her household.”

He looked up at the charming girl that hovered by his side and certain memories, though disjointed and vague, flooded his mind. “You!” He tried to raise himself. “Kakit nam-ur?” he asked… “Sar to anav?”

[Rateye]

Find a room, seek supplies and try to lay low, was the advice he recieved. Anything more could rightly end with his neck being stretched.

"My dear, this is diffinately not the sort of attention we need right now..." Reiley urged, as he politely and stratigically positioned himself between Mistress Lilly and the youngman she had so surprisingly chosen to bully.

"I am sorry lad." Reiley offered in consolation. "My companion is a bit upset, and I assure you she means no offense...."

"Bartender," Barked Reiley, as he pounded a few coins on the counter. "Serve this young man anything he wants, this should suffice."

"Come mistress." Then whispering into Lilly's ear, as he carefully lead her away. "I will be very grateful if you do not cause any more of a disturbance. Especially when my means of quelling such an event (Jesturing towards his lack of sword or pistol) is currently at a dis-ad-vantage!!!"

[LadyBarbossa]

Oblivious to the drama surrounding the woman she brought to Port Royal, more as Ana didn't care. The issue had no effect upon her nor did it endanger her life - yet. If the Actress woman decided to spread word then Ana would have to take action.

But for now... having no care about the drama surrounding Mckinney.

What concerned her... was getting to Sir Admiral Morgan and taking care of this Mr Read. She worried for her neck may be on the line. And as much as possible, she would portray herself a Lady.

Pondering again.. perhaps she should seek out McKinney and persuade the woman to keep her trap shut on cases of Ana being other than a Lady.

Soon enough, as the day warmed up considerably, Graves and Ana rode up the road to where they would meet Morgan.

Dismounting as a man took their horses.

Striding up to the door, knocking.

"Yes?" the doorman answered.

"We are here to speak with Admiral Morgan. He's expecting us," Grave informed the man.

Stepping aside and turning. "Of course. Come in."

The Doorman then led Ana and Graves to a parlor.

"Wait here. The Admiral will see you when he returns."

Ana then glanced about moving to a chair to sit as Graves stood gazing at a painting.

Both patiently awaiting Morgan, both keeping quiet about any issues concerning their transaction with Ransom or other business ventures... and Read.

[Ransom]

"I am sorry lad." Reiley offered in consolation. "My companion is a bit upset, and I assure you she means no offense...."

"Bartender," Barked Reiley, as he pounded a few coins on the counter. "Serve this young man anything he wants, this should suffice."

"Come mistress." Then whispering into Lilly's ear, as he carefully lead her away. "I will be very grateful if you do not cause any more of a disturbance. Especially when my means of quelling such an event (Jesturing towards his lack of sword or pistol) is currently at a dis-ad-vantage!!!"

Rather than cause further scene, I gritted my teeth and ignored the "lady's" rude remark. I was sure it was meant to goad me into revealing to her that I was not, in fact, a man. Something I was sure she had already guessed. However, there was no need for the whole room to know it. I gave her a steely-eyed stare with eyes that had seen a great deal more murder and mayhem than I hoped she ever would, and turned to her distraught companion.

With a degree of pity I watched the gentleman's efforts to return the "lady" to their table. When I saw him give a quick glance at this lack of weapon, I looked quickly around the room to see if there was need of one. Other than normal curiosity, I detected no immediate danger.

With a wry grin, I pushed back the coin he had offered, and made a gesture at the rapier which hung from by belt. "Please, sir, if it would help you to persuade the lady to retire to your table, you may borrow this. If that does not convince her, may hap I could buy you both a drink and restore peace to our afternon."

[Reginald Killingsworth]

With letter in hand Master Killingsworth snatched up his coat, wig and hat and made his way downstairs to the tavern. The room was filled with the lowest of creation, so he thought. As he wondered up to the barkeep he extended the letter to him. "Please see that thisss-ss letter is delivered to th-that Dark foreigner that was here earlier today. And do tell him that I have no us-se for his s-ss-sense of humor!"

The barkeep looked intensely at Killingsworth. As if to say; “What nerve…who the hell does he think HE is?!” Killingsworth threw down a coin upon the bar. “An ale...” Then turned to look about the tavern. There were many faces that told many stories. He looked towards the windows to see if the rain had passed. In the corner he could hear the voices of several people speaking loudly, but this wasn’t what drew his attention. Taverns are known to be loud and noisy. It was the laughter…a woman’s laugh that caught his attention. It sounded hauntingly familiar. As he searched the crowd, he saw a gang of three standing there…two men and a lady…

[Rateye]

" A gentleman you are young sir." Reiley answered, grateful at the restraint the youngman had shown.

[Cheeky Actress]

"Please, sir, if it would help you to persuade the lady to retire to your table, you may borrow this. If that does not convince her, may hap I could buy you both a drink and restore peace to our afternon."

Lilly laughed openly. She shook her head and smiled. "Oh, you see Doctor...this lad is of good nature! Please accept my humble apologize, for I only made light jest." She watched the doctor's expression ease a bit and she laughed. Lilly turned towards the young 'lad' again. This ruse was just what she needed to forget her trouble for a little while. She smiled to herself as the ‘boy’ called the maid over. “Act the fool, Lilly…no sense of spoiling the moment in revealing the youngster’s game.” She was impressed very by this ‘lad’s’ efforts and made sure that she did not lead on to ‘his’ game. “How kind of you.” She whispered in the young lad’s ear. “I wager that this is your first time here; to Port Royal, is it not?” The young lad looked back at her and nodded. As Lilly looked in the direction of the maid, it was then her blood froze still in her veins. She could hardly breathe. It was then she swore and uttered the name…’Killingsworth!” “Please…help me!” She whispered to the ‘lad’ again. “Do as I say…please…play along …I beg of you!” The young lad looked slightly confused with what was going on. “If you please Mistress, I do not see…,” the young lad uttered. In a state of panic Mistress Lilly had to think fast or it would be the end of her. She suddenly pulled the young lad close and kissed him full upon the mouth.

[Rateye]

Relieved was Reiley as he noticed the situation was at an end.

But as he saw the Mistress suddenly engulf the youngster in a similar assault on the lips, he failed to notice the barmaid passing by with a carryboard full of drinks.

The collision sent the tankards onto a nearby table where several men were eating and the barmaid to a diferent table, causing another meal to sail across the room, towards yet another table.

After a deathly silence as all eyes shot to the unfortunate Doctor, then to other tables where unknown grudges possibly festered, a glorious brawl was immediately called to order.

***Note(For those trying to E-mail me, Server is down. can't recieve or send. Surprised Pub it still up??!)

[Ransom]

The suddenness of the kiss took me aback completely. What the devil was the matter with the woman? Sputtering, I pulled back, just as the barmaid's tray went flying. It knocked off my good hat, and a splash of ale hit my cheek and ran down my collar.

Seething at the despoil of my good lace, sick of hearing myself referred to as "lad", as if I were some milk-sopped child, and furious that the actress had embroiled me in one of her mad excapades of God knew what dubious legality, I shoved her aside, ducked as a pewter mug went flying over my head, and shouted at her companion, "Let's remove ourselves from here, before we all end up in goal!"

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

“I would be most grateful to thee if thee would be so kind as to inform thy Mistress of my most sincere apologies unto her and her household.”

He looked up at the charming girl that hovered by his side and certain memories, though disjointed and vague, flooded his mind.  “You!”  He tried to raise himself.  “Kakit nam-ur?” he asked… “Sar to anav?”

The warmth exuding from Aurore's manner wavered with Sterling's accusitory word and she stepped back with agility as Christophe moved foreward with protective intent. His first phrase was lost on her...the next was not. The dialect varied minutely from mother tongue, but its' base was unmistakable. The Frenchman eyed age old enemy with suspicion while trying to pull his mistress out of harm's way. Aurore refused to budge at his direction, noting the flash of polished shank held low.

Shaking her head in faux misunderstanding, Christophe's hold was shrugged off. "Pardon monsieur, I fear that I have no understanding of what you are trying to convey." Offering an apologetic smile to guest, she then shot Christophe a dark glare before moving back to former bedside stance.

Downstairs, the front door swung open with a groan of unoiled hinge protest. Christophe deliberated rapidly whether he should remain where he stood or intercept who had just arrived. The air loomed heavy with sudden tension encured with repeated groan as latch clicked securly and the lesser of two evils was choosen. The shank performed dissapearing act, and the Englishman was given a hard look of warning as Christophe retreated the small chamber just enough to survey lower surround.

Aurore reached forward to ease Sterling back against pillow support, his exurtions caused a greater degree of pale to malady sapped complexion. Her clasp was a balance of tender hold and steeled determination with no hope of negotiation for counter. Leaning forward, she drew pitched quilt back to its original placement, glancing sidelong to his face before regaining proper posture.

Dampened cloth was gently applied to the sheen of perspiration that had regained territory on his brow and though her attention seemed totally focused upon his well being, Aurore listened intently for voicing from below. A peal of laughter drifted upwards, causing her no small degree of relief inwardly. The battlelines would remain vacant for now.

Drawing a chair near, she settled herself, " Tell me, monsieur...What it was that you said moments ago. Truly, it has piqued my curiosity? That is, of course, if it causes no angst to your condition."

It was a test, a test to balance truths and falacies. Aurore's expression was a thoughtful mask of inquery as she placed dainty hands to rest on lap surface. Nevertheless inwardly, senses were tuned to guage a slip up

and revealings would be judged with care.

[Rateye]

"My thoughts exact....oooof!" Sputtered Reiley as he was suddenly rushed and picked up by a pair of seamen.

"Yer going nowhere's gov-ner!" Growled one of the seamen, as they viciously tossed Reiley over the countertop and into the ledge of bottles.

"And as for you lad..." Sneered the bald seaman, with the scar across the bridge of his nose.

But as he swung, the youngman stepped to the side, then tripping up the sailor sent him sprawling onto the floor.

As the youngman turned to look after the fellow's companion, he found Mistress McKinney perched on the sailor's back, viciously pulling his hair out from the roots.

Standing slowly in an attempt to compose himself, Reiley saw the opportunity as presented by Mistress Lilly and then after rearing back, he delivered a solid punch to the jaw of the sailor whom Lilly was attempting to scalp. However, rather than collapsing, the sailor simply grinned, spitting out a single loose tooth.

"Well done Gov-ner!" he sneered, spitting out yet another tooth. Then grabbing Reiley by the jacket, the sailor threw him yet again into a crowd of brawling locals.

[Ransom]

"Damn and blast!" I snarled, tripping a sailor bent on attacking the man with the actress. This was definitely not what I had intended when I left the ship. Disaster and mayhem seemed to follow this woman wherever she went. As to her gentleman companion, he appeared to be in worse duress than she. So far as I was concerned, the pair dserved each other and could take care of themselves.

As for her plea for help, there was little I could offer in the middle of a brawl. I hard-kicked a drunkard with a booted foot, sending him crashing into another assailant, currently in the process of spitting out some teeth, and being ridden like a hobbyhorse by the actress. The three of them fell to the filthy floor in a tangle of arms, legs, and beer.

A quick glance around showed me that the only occupant of the tavern not currently either fighting with someone or throwing something, was a foppish-looking gentleman at the bar. His smug expression did nothing for my temper. Grabbing a bottle, I hurled it at the fop, pulled the actress from the floor and attempted to push her toward the door. "Pray, madame, let go of the ruffian's hair."

"Come on, man!" I yelled at her companion. "Quit dawdling at the bar and get yourself out of here!"

With another duck as someone's shoe bounced off the table, shattered a bottle of rum, and careened past my face, I made my last attempt at good samaritanism.

With my nose inches from hers, I shouted at the actress, "I'm away. Follow or stay. Your choice!"

[Capt. Sterling]

He was quiet for some time before he answered his caretaker. It would only serve his best to at least try to put his thoughts together first before he opened his mouth so foolishly again. My word, but his entire life had seemed to turn itself completely on ear since he had encountered the actress once more.

He sighed and turned his head to look at the lady beside him. It struck him that this time she was kind enough to sit where he could view her most comfortably…. Unlike when she had come to his aide in the field. Of course there was not time to be concerned about such details then….

“I asked your name, nothing more,” he explained. “When I saw you and your companion it brought back to remembrance bits of what had occurred out in the fields.” He shrugged slightly. “I fear it is not all clear to me as of yet…. But I recall certain languages although, I suppose, not well enough… I am sorry twas just a conjecture on my part. Again I do not wish to offend thee. Instead, I am indebted to thee for thy help.” He shifted uneasily. “Perhaps thee would be so kind as to send word to my steward… he shall arrange to have someone come and fetch me and take this wretched inconvenience from thy house.” He lowered his eyes, had he been staring? “In spite of my present condition, I still have matters of importance that I must oversee back in town. There are a number of people who… who rely on me.”