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Port Royal, Jamaica


sirhenrymorgan

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He had seen the mistress arrive and hurry to the ceremony. Yet Reiley couldn't help but feel for the young beauty as ser composure began to drift.

"Stand tall son and make your presence known." Reiley advised, the smartly dressed Davis, then began to slip through the crowd.

But as he neared Mistress Mckinney, he couldn't help but hear her comment of wanton personal doom. A comment which to Reiley was far from acceptable.

"Unfortunately my dear," interrupted Reiley. "I fear such an event would be most unpleasant, to more then just yourself."

For a moment the young actress looked startled, then cross, then somewhat grateful at Reiley's thoughtful interruption.

"Perhaps I could offer something that might take the edge off??" added Reiley, as he produced a small flask from his coat pocket.

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No rest for the wicked! Wait a minute... that's me?!

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Jane turned slightly at the tight squeeze from Striker’s hand. They had been sitting in the filling church for sometime, waiting for the ceremony to begin. He raised a brow to her, the bend of a smirk on his cheek. Bright blue eyes glanced down to her feet. Jane blushed, realizing that she had been drumming her heels anxiously. One foot quickly tucked under the other to halt the motion. She sighed, feeling like a child again, trapped in a stuffy church when she’d rather be out by the docks. She shifted uncomfortably trying to find a better position. Thick silk skirts rustled at the motion. Two work worn fingers picked a section of the fabric, rubbing the material together. It was remarkably soft, shimmering in the beams of sunlight filling the chapel. She felt silly in such an elegant dress. Striker had been quite insistent that she wear it though, along with the strand of delicate white pearls. Perhaps he had been right, at least she blended in with the rest of the over dressed crowd. She glanced around the sanctuary at the others dressed in their finery. Sterling’s crew was a sight to behold in their silver accented livery, quite a contrast from the random castoffs Jane was used to seeing aboard the Anna Rae.

Her mind wandered back to her filthy crewmates in the pub. She knew she’d have to return to the merchantman soon. They wouldn’t be in Port Royal for very long, a week at the most. Three of those days had already disappeared in the presence of Striker. As much as she loved sailing, Jane found herself not wanting to leave his side. It was a sensation she hadn’t felt in a long time. It made her uneasy, feeling so attached to someone she’d known for less than a week. The last time she become emotionally involved so quickly her entire life had been disrupted.

Jane glanced at Striker out of the corner of her eye. He sat stiffly in the wooden pew, Jane’s hand cradled lightly between both of his rough palms. He was obviously still in pain, the color not yet returned fully to his skin but his spirit had rebounded easily. Jane found her eyes wandering his face, taking in the tiniest details. He caught her sidewise look, the spark in his azure eyes sending a hot blush to her cheeks. She looked away quickly, trying to stifle an embarrassed giggle. She felt his comforting hands close around hers again as she attempted to focus on the ministers speech. Jane had a feeling this would be another long day.

"If part of the goods be plundered by a pirate the proprietor or shipmaster is not entitled to any contribution." An introduction to merchandize, Robert Hamilton, 1777

Slightly Obsessed, an 18th Century reenacting blog

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Striker's back was aching and it was hard for him to concentrate on the wedding ceremony which was begining.

He saw from the corners of his eyes that Jane was restless and just begging for it all to be over. He could not stop the smirk that settled on his face . He looked at her and said with a comforting tone "It shalt be over before ye know !" .

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always surrounded by shadows , always in the shadow. A spectre he be !

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"Sae, yea survived the meeting with the Devareaux's I see." Trilby closed the heavy oak street door and headed for the rooftop stairs.

I followed, my nose twitchng at the oder of sulpher which hung thick in the air. "Been experimenting again?"

Trilby waved a hand. "Just a wee somthing I've been working on." He continued up the stairs.

"Smells like it's not going too well." When we reached the patio I gulped in the fresh air.

Trilby flopped into his usual chair, but I remained standing. I'd been on edge ever since the sunset meeting in the Old Church. The face and voice of Sebastion, mixed with dark shadows and frightening images, had haunted my dreams. Without realizing it, I paced back and forth as Trilby and I talked.

"Well, are yea going tae tell me which Devareaux did the talking?" Trilby poured Port from a cut-glass decanter, then offered me a glass.

I took it gratefully, the smokey, nutty flavor soothing. "It was Sebastian."

Trilby grinned. "Ah, sae yea met the peacock of the clan. Tried tae sweet talk yea, I'll wager."

Trilby's humor rubbed me raw. "He tried. He failed. We talked business."

"Oh, right. Business." The old man winked. "And it's business that has yea jumpy as a flea, eh?"

I took another swallow of Port. "We've arranged for a delivery. He'll inspect the goods, to make sure I haven't lied about their worth, then we will trade."

Trilby leaned forward, his expression serious. "Hae a care, Ransom. The Devareax's are a tight bunch, and brook nae foolery. Sebastian may act the charmer, but nae be taken in. He and his brother are dangerous men. Conduct your business then be done with them."

Before I could snap an answer at the professor, a gust of black smoke drifted over the courtyard.

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

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You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

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As I rounded the corner the street was a sea of ants scattered around. Some were already starting to form a chain coming from the docks running up to the inn. By the time I got there the inn was ablaze. I could feel the heat even before I rounded the corner. Everyone was trying save the buildings around the Shipp.

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A booming sound jerked Ulises out of his sleep. He leapt from the firm mattress, pistol drawn. A thick finger thumbed the locking screw, readying the weapon. Slowly he spun in a circle. The cocked gun surveying the tiny space. Nothing but a broken chair and the scattered remains of an oil lamp greeted him. The second time the church bells sounded, Ulises’ arm fell roughly to his side. He exhaled heavily, the weapon tucked into its familiar place along his hip. He had been dreaming of La Maligna, seeing the fate of her crew at the hands of the Dane. The vision of his brother, beheaded like an animal, set his blood boiling. He paced the small space for a moment, letting the anger fade just enough. Today he would be successful; today he would find the path to the revenge he sought. Another peel from the bell resounded across the city, drawing him out of his thoughts. Ulises turned sharply on a heel, gathering the worn metal room key and heading out into the bustling afternoon streets.

"If part of the goods be plundered by a pirate the proprietor or shipmaster is not entitled to any contribution." An introduction to merchandize, Robert Hamilton, 1777

Slightly Obsessed, an 18th Century reenacting blog

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"Perhaps I could offer something that might take the edge off??" added Reiley, as he produced a small flask from his coat pocket.

Lilly's eyes widened a bit when the flask came into view. "Well, it is a wedding, isn't it?" She said smiling back at the good doctor.

Tess looked over at the both of them and rolled her eyes in disgust. "Middling sort!" She snifted as she continued to muster her attentions to the Reverend. She quickly tried to gather his attention by waving her lace hanky.

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The Reverend was just about to continue with the ceremony when he noticed the blond woman at the back of the church.

"Oh my!" he mumbled and closed his book. "Ah... um... yes?"

Sterling quickly glanced over shoulder in the direction the Reverend had turned his attention to.

"I knew it!" he said under his breath, turning to Andrew March. "I should have killed her the other day when I had the chance."


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Lady Tess St. Claire waited until the whole congregation was staring back upon her. She smiled her enchanting smile and looked back at the happy couple. “I wish to proclaim that this clandestine marriage should not take place!” With gasps of horror, the crowd suddenly turned into a collection of whispers. “For you see….this man cannot marry this woman for he be all ready married to another!”

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Lilly and Reiley looked back at each other in dread and in surprise. Lilly’s eyes suddenly met with the Captain’s own. She quickly mouthed the words..“’Twas not my idea.” But if he was able to make out the words she used, he did not acknowledge her.

She could see his face turn to crimson and he quickly grabbed the hilt of his sword. Would he do the unthinkable and draw blood on his wedding day?

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Aurore gave no reaction to the announcement, she simply kept her center where it had lay before the jaggernaut of verbose echoed high pitch of beam and frescos above. After a beat in time, she glanced to where Sterling stood then to her brother who had risen from pew seating. Sabastian's expression was unreadable to what meandered the corridors of mental realm, then he turned slowly to focus on accuser and the nuetrality gave way to something else. Dark eyes narrowed upon transgressor, a deep fire of predatory nature smoldering in angelic features.

Thresh hold lingerer, removed the crown of wide chapeau, then leaned on near door support to speculate the ocurance. Crossing arms over chest, the slate tinctured eyes roved slowly over the tow headed beaute, then away to settle on the English Captain at alter's proximity.

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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"Easy John, let go yer sword," March whispered. “That will not help matters none."

Sterling relaxed a moment, now more concerned about Aurore than Tess St. Claire.

“I am so sorry Aurore that this had to happen on this day but tis a false allegation, Chere,” he said loud enough for both her and the preacher to hear. March moved closer.

“Aye tis a lie indeed. This man has not been out of my sight much for the last 12 years, I think I would be knowing. If anything, he were a widower not much longer than three years ago. He is well known in English circles, there would be no way of him keeping a wife and not for none of us knowing it.. There are others of the crew that will swear to this as well.”


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Tess looked causally about her. The room’s temperament had grown one of disproval. She had not only invoked an angry crowd, but perhaps even a riot if she was not careful with thoughtful word and manner.

“Come now,” She moving her way through the pew and finally stood out in the aisle for all to see her. “What say you good people? Do you think that this man who can fall in love and marry a woman in less than a fortnight. Oh, to be moved by such love and passions! Has he not fallen in this way before? He is a creature of habit and with that said I have proof…yes, proof I say, that will show you all that this man is already wedded!”

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Mistress Lilly looked back at the Captain. She knew that there was a time he would do anything for her and yet, at this moment she could not bring herself to step forward and denounce such claims that Lady St. Claire was making as of the moment. She felt helpless and ashamed.

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‘She is lying!” Sterling said directing his attention on the Reverend. “Any proof that she could possibly have is false… She is bitter because I was once contracted to marry her, but that was my father’s wish not mine. I refused to go through with the agreement and now she is trying to obtain some sort of cruel revenge. I have already lost mine inheritance because of it and compounded the loss because I did indeed marry another woman other than St. Clair, a woman that I truly did love….Tess cannot abide the fact that I could love someone that was not her... and the woman that is sitting next to her could support my claim. She not only knows me but she was well acquainted with my late, and only, wife, prior to mine taking Mistress Devareaux.”


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Lilly suddenly felt all eyes upon her. She franticly looked about the church until the glaring eyes of Tess St. Claire were looking back at her. With a hard swallow, Lilly tried to recapture her composure as the felt herself sway lightly. It was then good Dr. Rieley took her arm and whispered to her. “You must say something to defend our good Captain.” As Lilly looked up and smiled lightly into the face of her dear doctor, she realized that she had to step in and disband this unruly crowd.

“Good People,” Lilly said raising her hand and her voice. “I am acquainted with Captain Sterling and knew of him and his dearly departed wife. I know no other who has taken her place until now. I fear that Lady St. Claire only seeks revenge upon our good Captain!”

It was then Lady Tess St. Claire approached Mistress Lilly and with glaring eyes she raised her hand and struck her hard upon the face. “Foolish Bitch!” Tess cried as two of the crew members quickly grabbed her from doing any more damage to Mistress Lilly. Lilly stood there in shock as Dr. Rieley assisted the two men in apprehending Lady Tess. “Let go of me!” Tess shouted. “If any harm comes to my being I swear that you and your beloved Captain will never see your little boy every again!” It was then Lilly quickly raised her hand for the release of Tess. “Let her go…I beg you.” Lilly looked back at the Captain for a moment. He could tell that Lilly was distressed by the threat.

Tess stood their smoothing out her the front of her gown and looking slightly disheveled. “I shall bring you proof, Captain and prove to the people you are not whom you say you are.” Tess quickly made her way to the doors of the church. “Middling Sort!” She shouted back at him as she dashed out of the church.

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The Reverend stood, contemplating the sudden turn of events.

"I think it best that we postpone this wedding until the lady brings forth the evidence of which she speaks."

"Ah yer holiness, tis a naught but the ravings of a lunatic!" March said, waving his hand at the officers of the Archangel. They can vouch fer the Captain just as well as Mistress McKinney, and she should know. She's been the only woman in his life save the Empress and his daughter until now."

The Reverend thought a moment longer.

"Still, I think it best...."

Sterling reached into the pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out something he quickly placed upon the Reverend's bible. Despite its golden glitter, it was not coin and its two blue silk ribbon ends fell to one side as preacher looked down upon it. For a moment, his eyes widened.

Then he looked questioningly at Sterling.

"I would think with one of those most people would know not only whom I sleep with but most likely when.... You see with such noterity, my life is not a very, shall we say, private one. I could send for any such records regarding my previous wedding, my wife's death, and the births and deaths of all my children, but must we really delay that long when there are dozens of witnesses to my innocence in Lady St. Claire's absurd accusation, already present?" He looked then down at Aurore.

"And what if I do fall quickly in love, I did so with my first wife and married we were, happily, until the day she's died. Is it so wrong to marry another lady, whom I love just as much?"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Aurore's eyes shifted subtly within her immediate surround, finally falling on sibling. She trusted Jean's counter arguments to be true, and though the whole situation stirred certain discomfort in the esscence of her soul, it was the mention of the child being in threat that bothered Aurore far more.

The whole rapid sequence of events caused a numbness to creep slowly over her being, and the deep tincture of olive sights followed the flow of rich burgandy silk to the flooring below. The thrum of conversation which sounded in manner of steady buzz fell deaf to her ears and a single tear rolled the perfection of high cheeckline to fall in spiral, mute and unseen to the world around.

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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"Besides, Mr. March if ye please the license," Sterling requested turning to his first officer.

Said paper was already in hand to pass forward. Sterling took the paper, unfolded it and handed it to the Reverend.

"As ye can see," he lowered his voice. "I was expecting some such inconsideration this day...although, I must confess, I was expecting it from Mistress McKinney and not St. Claire. So Mistress Devareaux and I were legally married last night at a small party we held for her, her brother and a few of her most intimate friends. Today is for the rest of them and those that love her. Is it not ..." he glanced at Aurore and just noticed the faint track of tear that graced her face just above her cheek. His expression changed, crestfallen.

"Oh Chere, I am truly sorry, I never wished this to happen. If we had been in England, she would not have gotten even this far with her charade."


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Aurore glanced to him, trying to offer comforting smile and gave nod of understanding. In all the confusion, Christophe had left archway vigil, stepping to the side just enough to allow Transgressor to vacate the vacinity, then moving forward the church's legnth. He paused, four pew rows afore the steps leading up to alter's reign, giving Sterling a reproachful look before moving on to where Sabastian stood in silence, wolfish features returning to neutral bearing.

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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Sterling saw competition moving closer than pausing briefly before moving alongside Devareaux. For a second he felt angry by Christophe's passing of judgement on something he had no true control over. Yes he had made mistakes in his past, but then, who had not? Surely Christophe would not go to his wedding bed as chaste as the bride he would chose. He had tried to make things proper between Lilly and himself and she had refused him, repeatedly. Where Aurore was concerned, he had all ready made things right between them. He shook off the Frenchman's disapproving look and took his bride's hand and looked once more to the Reverend.

"Does not the Good Book declare that the truth shall be established by two or more witnesses?"

The preacher slowly nodded his head. Sterling waved his arm.

"Well then ye have yer "or more"... now will ye proceed or take the word of a bitter woman?"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Finally, the couple, married for a second time made their way down the aisle of the church. Arm in arm, amongst the huzzahs of the Archangel’s crew, Aurore finally with smile gracing fair countenance.

The church bells began once again to peel in celebration of the match almost gone awry. But it was not into the warm sun that had so promised to await them earlier, that they exited once past the huge wooden doors. Instead they stepped out into a grayish haze, a fog that seemed to float strangely about them accompanied by the acrid smell of smoke. Their progress faltered as footsteps slowed, frightened people hurried past, some to aide, others to flee.

“Stay here,” Sterling warned, as he made his way quickly down the church steps and stopped a man, covered in soot, arms laden with soul possessions. As he returned to his bride, Devareaux and March emerged from the sanctuary.

“The Shippe is on fire. Tis catching to several houses round about. Mr. March, fetch the crew to assist if ye please,” Sterling said as he removed his coat, hat and wig. Coat was draped about Aurore’s petite shoulders, hat and hair, given over to her care, then she was handed over to Sabastian. “Please see to her safety as quickly as you can.”

At first Aurore’s eyes reflected deep concern, but slowly understanding nod was given with consent.

“I shall see ye as soon as I am able,” Sterling assured her, then whispered in her ear. “I would not miss a second wedding night with ye, even if my life depended on it.”

When the first officer returned with men in tow, Sterling kissed bride good bye and followed off to help.


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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As the charade of a wedding ceremony halted to an end Striker and Jane found themselves on the steps of the church with the newlyweds and the rest of the guests . The dark smog was creeping steadily towards them . The Shipp was on fire , It seems that the Inn was cursed in more then one way and only the Devil knew what the next day would bring for it . "Fire and brimstones " Striker thought to himself.

His back was aching even more after he had been sitting in the pew.He would not be able to help with putting out the fire , well not if he wanted to continue living. He knew that Jane could not help him get down the stairs and into the carriage all by herself. He looked around and saw a boy standing not far from them .

"Lad , could you please help me down the stairs before you run off ?" Striker asked the boy

The boy looked at him and then answered "Aye , Sir. No worries ."He said before he helped the wounded Captain down the stairs and followed to a carriage and opened the door.

Jane steped inside the carriage ready to take Striker's hand while the boy helped him get in from the outside.

After the door was closed Striker took out a guinea from his purse and said to the boy . "Thank ye for yer help , Mr. ?"

"Davis" The boy answered

"Well Mr. Davis this here is for ye " Striker said while giving the boy the guinea through the window.

As the carriage started to drive off the boy kept looking at the shiny coin in hand.

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always surrounded by shadows , always in the shadow. A spectre he be !

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"WATER, WE NEED MORE WATER!" I shouted as I ran down the street.

The flames started to lick the other buildings. Catching them on fire.

"It's starting to spread, we need more buckets!" shouted someone in the crowd. I grabbed four emtpy buckets and started to run toward the ocean.

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"Lookit th' git Liam," pointing at some man running down the strret with buckets in his hands. "e'll need a bit more 'n that bruddah," Liam replies to me. The street had begun to fill to with onlookers and those trying to put out the fire. Several finely dressed sailors, captains to be assumed made started making their way back to the wharf. Watching the town begin to erupt into chaos. Liam and I smile and cross our arms.

Titim gan éirí ort.

There are many forms of evil. We urge you lesser forms of filth not to push the boundaries into true corruption, into our domain.

Come now, you rich, weep and howl for your miseries that are coming upon you! Your riches are corrupted, and your garments are moth-eaten. Your gold and silver are corroded, and their corrosion will be a witness against you and will eat your flesh like fire. James 5:1-3

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