Port Royal, Jamaica

[sirhenrymorgan]

Aye Captain Sterling. I saw notice of his services this morn in the daily heraldings. Seems like a good chap with lots of medical know how. He should be able to put your mate in good stead.

I know not where this vessel hails from, but she is welcome in Port Royal. Any ship is these days. We welcome the plunder and the new citizens it brings. The town is bustling to be sure. Our most recent census puts us at about 5,000, including children and slaves. If it is made you can be sure to find it her, Captain.

I know that his Lordship, Governor Modyford is open to the commission of privateers is most open to bolstering the ranks of ships in service to the colony. I can arrange a meeting with him if you would like.

Excuse me one moment while I greet our new guests. Part of being in service to his majesty.

Before I allow you to enter our fair city. I must ask who are and your nature of business here. I have already met your good captain. But I do want to know who you may be.

"Ana."

And what be your last name dear lady?

"Who wants to know?"

I am your most humble servant, Admiral Henry Morgan, Commander of the Jamaican Fleet and consult to his most Excellent Thomas Modyford, Governor of Jamaica. You might say that my interests here are far and wide - including the import and export trade here and leader of the expeditionary forces against the Spanish in these waters.

I ask again, dear lady, what is your name and what is your business here in Jamaica?

She glances back and Graves, and then turns, knowing that her answer about being his sister was not enough to satisfy Admiral Morgan. If only the Customs Collector had been the one to greet the ship instead of the governor's crony.

"We were just going for a short walk," Read interjects. "I see no reason why she must be interrogated so. I should think that her arrival would not interest the great Admiral Morgan among the many arrivals that make land in Port Royal each day."

And you are, sir?

[Capt. Sterling]

I know that his Lordship, Governor Modyford is open to the commission of privateers is most open to bolstering the ranks of ships in service to the colony. I can arrange a meeting with him if you would like.

Excuse me one moment while I greet our new guests. Part of being in service to his majesty.

The captain can not help but bow in thanks at Sir Henry's words. "I would be most grateful to ye! I have yet to bring the 'angel into the yards for careening, so I will be about for quite some time," he adds with a sigh. If only Sir Henry could be of influence there as well, he thought to himself. If he delayed too long in port, how many of his crew would wish to look for another ship?

"Thank ye again Sir Henry," he mumbles once more, almost absentmindedly. Still proper Letters of Marque were so very necessary. What good would a fine ship and a fit crew be without them...

Sterling bows still again as Sir Henry dismisses him for now. He waits for Morgan to turn away before he too turns to leave, but before he does, he can not help but cast one more glance over the Resurrection.

[Cheeky Actress]

Those eyes again glanced about searching for a poster board of any sort... also she was awaiting the Harbormaster or some lacky. And all the while keeping her eyes open for the militia that would eventually be roaming about. Not that she feared them, she always enjoyed watching them, keeping them in her sights... fascinated by them... or so it appeared. With her.. one never knew. One would call her... mysterious... or even crazy.

Voice from above deck drew Lilly topside. As she made her way to the side of the ship she could see the docks and the bustle of people in the harbor. There was an abundance of business occuring this day. She could see Lady Barbossa conduct business with another man. Who, by the way he was dressed was a man of some position. Lilly looks about the docks and is ready to depart from the ship with her meager belongings in tow. Once again she skimms the docks. Slaves moves wares and produce from one side of the docks to another. Her eyes soon fall upon two men towards the point. It is then her breath escapes her just then.

"Ney, it cannot be?!" She whispers to herself. She leans closer off the side to take a closer look. Everything about him was correct. His height, his statcher..except for the dark hair...it could be him. She quickly made her way down the gangway towards the two men. "Dear God...if it is him..." She muttered to herself as she dodged her way through the crowded port street. As she drew near towards the two men, she quickly focused on the man she thought she knew. As he turned toward her, she quickly dashed behind a cart. Her heart stopped for a moment. Peering around the edge she examined him once more.

Yes, it was her beloved Captain Sterling. 'Twas the same man whom she denyed not once, but twice for her hand in marriage. She peered closer into his face only to see the horrid scar and the dead left eye. An injury that he recieved so many years ago trying to save his ship and the rest of his crew from pyrates. Yet, while looking at him she knew that he was not well. He stood pale and sweating. His color drained from his cheeks and the looks of feaver graced his brow.

She quickly dashed behind the cart again. "He must not find me here." She whispered to herself. It is then she slowly turns and walks back to the main harbor street. She needed time to think and to find lodgings.

[LadyBarbossa]

((OOC:

I don't wish to be rude or obnoxious, perhaps I should have stated this earlier, too. But, in good standing with role playing on line, it was often advised to me not to play another person's character without permission. So... please... those interacting with my character which is in fact my persona, me personally... please, all ME to post myself and react to situations. No offense to all, but it makes it INCREDIBLY hard for me to post my own reactions to situations. I don't post for anyone else but I do leave windows of opportunity for all. I only post what is my own character since posting for a character that is not yours is a universal role playing no-no.

Again, not to be a bitch about this... but again, it's makes it INCREDIBLY difficult for me to post when you posted for me already. I CAN make my own decisions, reactions, etc.

Thank you. ))))

BIC:

Her eyes moved from Read to see a stately and stout man striding towards her-

"Before I allow you to enter our fair city. I must ask who are and your nature of business here. I have already met your good captain. But I do want to know who you may be."

Cocking a brow as she looked at the man, sizing him up in a rather civil manner, standing proud and Ladylike.

"Anastazia, good sir. I am here to offer my condolences

And what be your last name dear lady?

"von Raff. And.. you are...?" Allowing that to hang for the man to explain who he was.

"I am your most humble servant, Admiral Henry Morgan, Commander of the Jamaican Fleet and consult to his most Excellent Thomas Modyford, Governor of Jamaica. You might say that my interests here are far and wide - including the import and export trade here and leader of the expeditionary forces against the Spanish in these waters."

"I see," and her face lit up like a bonfire in the middle of night. Aye, she'd heard of Henry Morgan. Who hadn't?

"An honor and pleasure, Admiral," her voice reflected her honor and excitement to meet a man of his stature as she bobbed slowly and gracefully before him.

"I ask again, dear lady, what is your name and what is your business here in Jamaica?"

"Anastazia Elizabeth von Raff, Admiral." smiling sweetly at the man. "My business in Port Royal was to offer my condolences to the fallen of the Oxford."

Barely offering Grave a glance, she kept her eyes upon Morgan. Studying the man as Civilty allows one to do. She knew that this time she was up against a brilliant man. Figuring she best keep on her toes and watch her back often enough to ensure that she won't find herself dancing at the end of the Hangman's Necklace.

"We were just going for a short walk," Read interjects. "I see no reason why she must be interrogated so. I should think that her arrival would not interest the great Admiral Morgan among the many arrivals that make land in Port Royal each day."

"And you are, sir?"

Her gaze moved to Read... "Oh, pish posh, Mr Read." Looking back at the Admiral, "A man such as he deserves the attention of a Lady. I would be disheartened to not receive a welcome from a fine man as he. And I would be foolish and rude to refuse to be in his presense." Smiling ever so sweetly and with charm.

Graves, however, barely was able to get to Miss Lilly - their passenger - when within a couple steps he took she was down the gangplank, on the docks and disappeared into the streets before he knew it.

"Damnation," he said somewhat softly to himself and more in an amused, stunned manner as he gazed off into the streets from the deck of the Resurrection.

Shook his head and went on about his business.

[Capt. Sterling]

Enough, Sterling thought to himself as he reckoned the value of what the Resurrection might bring at auction. She was not his prize and he knew he had no cause to even think such a thing. Had he grown that desperate for money? he wondered.

He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and wiped the perspiration on the cuff of his glove. "Damn Port Royal, " he muttered under his breath. "Damn Jamaica!" He should be back in London, creeping slowly along the congested Thames with prizes in tow.

"Oh Sarah, I've let ye down again," he whispered.

He felt compelled to finally make his way toward the church but did not take the steps. Instead he moved closer to the ship that rocked gently before him, ignoring the charming lady in black, now beset upon by Morgan and some lad of middling sorts.

"Ahoy Resurrection," he hailed the man at the ship's railing. When the man onboard ceased looking over the bustle of the dock and turned to glance down, Sterling called up, "From whence have ye come and mayhaps ye have any letters from England?"

[LadyBarbossa]

Graves looked down upon Sterling with a cautious gaze. He thought quickly about where they had been before-

"No news nor letters from England, sir," he replied with his deep, stern voice.

"We... had just come from the Colonies up north."

A couple members up in the riggings watched Sterling carefully as they went on with their duties of attending the sails and the ropes.

[Patrick Hand]

For Sale

1 fine brass mounted gun with French lock. Flask, Pouch and tools.

2 felling axes

3 sm. Axes

1 case of knives, butcher, ripper, skinning and stone

1 folding pocketknife

1 sm. Brass pocket compass

Pewter plate and spoon

1 suit fine red wool, coat, waistcoat, and breeches (small size)

1 Red blanket coat with Indian embroidery

2 linen shirts

1 pr. Breeches

1 pr. Brass shoe buckles

1 Bible (in French)

Inquire at the Fox and Bull

Patrick Hand

And a checkerboard...

It was still early in the morning as I sat in the Fox and Bull. There were a few people about, mostly shopkeepers and such, going about their business. The rest of the revelers were sleeping off last night's debaucheries. Maybe tonight, I'd join the festivities, but right now I'm trying to find someone who plays checkers. After asking a few of the other patrons, I finally found someone who actually enjoyed the game.

I ordered a brandy for each of us, and we started to play. During the course of the game, I was informed that his name was Peter, and he brought barrels of fresh water into Port Royal. Peter was a deceit checkers player, so at the conclusion of the second game, When I asked if he would like the checkerboard, he was very surprised.

It was a very well made board, with 12 rows of squares in the French Canadian style. The squares alternated green and brown, the green squares were raised, and chip carved, with the brown squares carved into the board. There were sliding lids covering the trays at each end of the board to hold the game pieces, the entire board had been carefully made and pegged together with small hand carved wooden pins.

Henri always was such a damn perfectionist...

Peter profusely thanked me for the unexpected gift as he left the Fox and Bull, and I ordered more brandy. I had no problem selling his gun, clothing and gear, but Henri had been so passionate about checkers, that somehow it just didn't feel right to sell his checkerboard.

I drank my brandy, thinking about the years spent hunting on Tortuga...

Until Henri got himself killed...

[sirhenrymorgan]

As for the arrival of The Resurrection, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Determined to get out of the stifling heat that was so much a part of every day in Port Royal, I decided to return to my home on High Street and reconsider the plans that had gone so awry the day before aboard the Oxford.

I had some time before the service a five that day for those who had perished. I could not get it out of my mind that it had been sabotage. The Spanairds knew we were going to strike, just not when.

I had to figure out our next move against them. Keeping them at bay in their own ports would keep them away from Jamaica, and perhaps more of the Caribbean. Port Royal itself was well fortified -- I had seen to that myself. But I had even bigger plans for our fortifications. The platforms holding the guns at Fort Charles were adequate, but the new fort with ramparts will hold 36 guns. Any ship passing it would come under her guns in three directions.

But what if a ship did make it past? There were no defenses in the harbor, or on the open end of the Palisadoes. Unfortunately, the fort is only manned by volunteers from town. The Commander and his two permanently stationed gunners could only do so much. Sure the welcome volleys put on a fine show for visitors and has a sense of show of force.

If the Spanish were to discover this venerability, she could send several ships in at once and we could not keep them all at bay with a single fort of volunteers. What is the Resurrection had been such a ship - could the forts guns have disabled her should she have been a fighting ship.

These things the governor shows little interest in. He is more interested in my plans to attack them in their own land, which has worked well so far. My only hope is that I can mount a plan that will permanently keep them at bay... too meek to mount any organized campaign against the town.

Captain Sterling seemed a good sort. But I didn't sense his immediate interest in a commission at this point. I must have a new council with the remaining captains as well as some of my old buccaneer friends to address this issue.

Takes parchment and a quill and scribbles a hastily written note. He folds it and adds his seal

Take this to Colonel Cary at the fort. He will know what to do.

[Mark Read]

I was concerned at Admiral Morgan's determined approach to us upon the dock, that the game would be up.

The Lady, however, in addition to the skills I had heard of, was also a master of charm, flattery and a coy smile that caught the Admiral square on the chin. and I watched as he puffed up in pride at her words.

The flattery seemed enough to appease him. He wished us a good day, turned on his heel, and was on his way.

"Well done, that could have gotten a tad messy, eh?"

We strolled the short way to the Three Crownes. Upon entering there were a number of tables available. Toward the front, nicer dining tables well lit by the light from the outside... I walked her past these and onto a corner table that was poorly lit and somewhat removed from the rest.

"I think this will do just fine... ", I pulled out her chair and after she was seated I once again scanned the room to make sure there was no one within earshot, "I would like to speak with your 'travels' with your 'brother' and future travels you may have planned. To be frank, I have heard of you. In my travel to Jamaica on a Dutch merchant ship, we were taken by the crewe of The Ranger. As we continued the voyage that brought me here, I heard stories of the Ressurection, her crewe..and of course,her Lady Captain. I have heard she is a fine vessel, with a fine capatain and crewe, and I am hoping there is room to be added to those ranks."

[LadyBarbossa]

"Well done, that could have gotten a tad messy, eh?"

She looked at Read oddly as though she had no clue what he was talking about. And truly enough, just a mere chat with the Admiral ... it was nothing. She'd been in worse situations.

"Not at all," she replied to Read with a weak but charming smile.

We strolled the short way to the Three Crownes. Upon entering there were a number of tables available. Toward the front, nicer dining tables well lit by the light from the outside... I walked her past these and onto a corner table that was poorly lit and somewhat removed from the rest.

"I think this will do just fine... ", I pulled out her chair and after she was seated I once again scanned the room to make sure there was no one within earshot, "I would like to speak with your 'travels' with your 'brother' and future travels you may have planned. To be frank, I have heard of you. In my travel to Jamaica on a Dutch merchant ship, we were taken by the crewe of The Ranger. As we continued the voyage that brought me here, I heard stories of the Ressurection, her crewe..and of course,her Lady Captain. I have heard she is a fine vessel, with a fine capatain and crewe, and I am hoping there is room to be added to those ranks."

Still seated a like a Lady, her posture being that, but her hazel eyes turned a bit greener as she locked upon Read with a stern gaze that was enough to make Lucifer tremble.

"oh, ya have, ha va?" her voice was a bit more harsh but soft in volume as it was true she didn't want anyone to listen in.

Barely giving a glance about, "Yo'r rather bold t' be inquiring in a place such as this .. let alone t' bring a Lady.. into a place such as this," fanning herself to stiffle the heat as best she could it was worse to be indoors than outside.

Pondering a moment.

"There may be room, Mr Read. What are yo'r qualifications? Any.. special skills or trades?" slightly cocking her head to the side and narrowed her eyes a pinch, "And how can I be so sure of yo'r loyalty? I don't fancy th' idea of dancing at the end of the noose."

[Capt. Sterling]

For Sale

1 fine brass mounted gun with French lock. Flask, Pouch and tools.

2 felling axes

3 sm. Axes

1 case of knives, butcher, ripper, skinning and stone

1 folding pocketknife

1 sm. Brass pocket compass

Pewter plate and spoon

1 suit fine red wool, coat, waistcoat, and breeches (small size)

1 Red blanket coat with Indian embroidery

2 linen shirts

1 pr. Breeches

1 pr. Brass shoe buckles

1 Bible (in French)

Inquire at the Fox and Bull

Patrick Hand

And a checkerboard...

Still no word. Knowing all too well the difficulties of catching up with the post, Sterling is never the less disappointed. The captain wanders slowly from the docks allowing himself time to explore more of the town. Acquainting himself with some of the shops, a trinket catches his eye in one particular window. A fashion baby. Not truly a doll but an item used to display the latest fashions in a smaller scale. He glances up at the sign to confirm the Mantua maker's profession. The doll, dressed in a lavender striped gown would be stunning on his Sarah. Perhaps if he could purchase just the yard goods, enough to send back to London. For a moment he thinks about pawning his wedding band. It is of no use to him now but thinking better of the entire transaction he moves on, making a note of the location of the shop. Perhaps he can return and make the purchase at another time. The notice, posted outside the Fox and Bull is the next thing to cause him to pause. Sarah will have to wait. He enters the Fox as another man exits, carrying a fine checker board. He moves to the bar.

"Rhenish please and might I be asking the whereabouts of the gentleman, Patrick Hand, who posted the notice. "

Hand is pointed out to him. Sterling takes up his glass after tossing a coin on the bar top, and makes his way to the small area, Mr. Hand is currently in command of.

"Beggin yer pardon Master Hand, but I would like to make inquiries regarding the red wool suit. I have two middys to clothe, and at their ages, it seems almost an impossible task to keep them in something that fits."

[Bartholomew Treate]

Taverns and inns have been my home for many a year now. I relish in their liveliness and the strength of their drink. It seems no matter how much wine or ale I down, I never seem as pathetic as at least one other person here.

In the world outside, such is not the case. I am often considered a vagrant, a dunkard, a ne'er do well. But in a tavern I am king of the space I dwell in. As long as my coins hold out, I can do no wrong for it is these coins the innkeeper lusts after.

Thankfully, I have quite a few coins left over from my last adventure with Morgan. Our raid on Puerto Principe was hardly filled with riches. Most of me mates couldn't afford to pay their debts back here in port. But my debts are few, expect those to the innkeepers and tavern owners here. I have been a soldier and a sailor long enough to know that the only thing more precious than money is having it still in your hand.

Sure, I have witnessed those in the square, sitting on a keg of fine wine, forcing everyone who passes by to drink with him or risk having red wine splashed all over their finery and hear oaths that are more appropriate for the worst alehouses along Fisher's Row.

Unfortnately, these poor louts are broke the next day and must ship out on the next voyage in hopes of finding more money to spend.

In my time I have seen more waste than I care to remember or repeat here. I've seen horrendous and vile tortures to get the townfolk to disclose the whereabouts of their valuables. I've seen women molested as their children cry nearby.

It's not a lot that I am necessarily proud of but which is so much a part of me that I don't remember a gentler life. For me, my friends are a cutlass and a pistol. Everyone else is either dead or have betrayed me.

And yet, I look at these two fine gents in the pub and wonder how nice it would be to have a lively conversation with someone else. But I have become used to being a loner and perhaps it is for the better. For I have seen too many of my friends perish in the line of fire - two headed angels, grapeshot, a blade to their guts or a pistol shot to the head. Yes, it is better to be alone with my drink.

"Barkeep! Another tankard here and send a couple over to those fine gents as well. They look like they could use a little extra courage on this day."

The gentlemen glance over and nod their thanks.

I nod back and return to my drink, wondering what the day will hold for me here in Port Royal.

[Skittles]

I am Mistress March. Please to excuse my broken English as for am I Norwegian. Wife am I to the first officer of the Archangel, and his captain and he do call me Skittles. Wonder I, at times, if it be because of my passion for this silly game or because of the headdress for my bunad. Meet I my husband when his ship several journeys to my homeland made. Married were we and with his captain's permission, on board the Archangel came I as landress and semstress to Captain Sterling and other officers to be . Easy my life is not, but grateful am I to be with Andrew. Good is my husband, and kind is his captain to us both, although with his heart, too many decisions makes our captain, instead of with the good sense our God him did give.

"Skittles" March

[Mark Read]

At a corner table in the Three Crownes.

I chuckled, " If just a fraction of the stories I've heard of you are true, I have no doubt you are more at home and at ease in this dank corner of an inn than most other locales.... You worry about trust? Well I would think our necks are both equally on the line at this point. I could have easily pointed you out to Admiral Morgan... a few quick stories that I heard while 'captured' by pirates... and you would already have that date with the noose. But I did not. Frankly, now we're equally threatened... for I knew you for what you are, and did not report it. Why waste my time if I did not have a purpose to keep you in your current position...such as putting more coin in my pocket "

"My skills?", I leaned back on the bench, took a swig from my glass, and smiled, "I have a history in both the King's Army and Navy... commendations for my fighting skills, and can take up any position you offer me onboard."

"I also fancy serving under a woman captain."

[Patrick Hand]

I sat starring into my brandy, disheartened and feeling the loss of Henri...Damn.. this will never do, Henri would have been the first to tell me that I was acting like an Old woman feeling sorry for myself.... It can't be the Brandy, I'd only drank four so far this morning, maybe a walk would clear my head. I'll drink to Henri's memory later tonight....

I downed my brandy, and was about to go for a walk when...

"Beggin yer pardon Master Hand, but I would like to make inquiries regarding the red wool suit. I have two middys to clothe, and at their ages, it seems almost an impossible task to keep them in something that fits."

I excused myself, and went up to my room for the suit. I brought the cloth wrapped bundle down to the table, untying the cords that held the bundle together. I unfolded and laid out the red wool suit.

The suit was well made, and tastefully trimmed with black cloth covered buttons, and narrow black braid. Not gaudy, or flashy, but showed an understated elegance. I;d have gone for gilt trim, even if it did tarnish, but not Henri, he always had such a good eye for such details.

"My partner was a small man, so this should fit a growing boy."..

[LadyBarbossa]

Smiling at Read. He seemed rather eager to serve aboard the Resurrection. But, one never knew how loyal one was.

"Very well, Mr Read," her tone of voice bold still yet the volume of her voice was soft, just above a whisper. "I shan't be staying long in Port Royal as my intensions are to pay my respects to fallen comrades." With a weak smile her eyes locked with his. "I shall give you 2 choices til we leave port... you can seek me out after the memorial or you can assist me through that time."

Almost motionless, she silently placed before him a gold coin. "There be more where that came from IF you are indeed loyal enough and will serve the crew wisely." Leaning closer- "I don't take kindly to betrayers." The tone of her voice was dead serious.

She stood from her seat, fanning herself.

Nodding to him, "The offer stands. But for now. I need to know where and when this service will be held." Striding over to stand directly beside him. "Any and all information on Port Royal and it's inhabitants are greatly... appreciated." Patting his shoulder firmly and briefly.

[sirhenrymorgan]

My meeting for tonight was now set. So I turned my attention to the matter of the soldier in me. 250 good men died last night, including some of my most trusted captains of the coast. It was only proper and fitting to honor them at the memorial this eve.

I walked down the block to the church and entered. I was greeted by Rev. Heath, rector. We sat down at length to discuss the service. Rev. Heath is a pleasant enough chap, but my presence in God's house was most uncomfortable. I was hardly a man of God, or worthy of his admiration. I had taken many of his most faithful followers in the likes of Puerto Principe and will take even more in the months to come if plans afoot follow through.

I made aggreance with him that I should say a few words about these brave souls and how they came to meet their maker during the service.

"Thank you reverend. I will see you at the service."

It was 4 p.m. now. The shops would soon be reopening as the heat quelled. I stepped out of the church and made my way to another fine establishment in town to visit my old shipmate, who had taken the liberty offered by Modyford and relinquished his life as a privateer and settled ashore. Or at least he liked it to appear. I knew only too well that appearing to be in a legitimate and honest trade was often the best cover for other exploits. After the governor offered clemency to anyone becoming a landowner, my friend leased the space off Queen Street and opened the Fox and Bull.

I entered the pub. It was nearly empty, save Captain Sterling, who I had met at the docks who was talking to another gentleman in the corner. And then I caught the other man in the corner. He looked familiar, but I could not place the name. I believed he had ventured with me before, but not under my own charge.

I mentally tried to place him when I saw the innkeeper. "Jack, sir. Good to see you today. A round of your finest, spare not expense. Afterall, this is your old friend Henry. None of the cheap stuff now. The bottles under the bar..."

[sirhenrymorgan]

Herald roams the streets of Port Royal

Hear Ye! Hear Ye! All are invited to attend the service for those brave lads killed in the Oxford explosion last eve. Services begin at the church at 6 o clock. All are invited and encouraged to attend by His Excellency Lord Modyford and Admiral Henry Morgan.

[Boo]

Greetin's to all ye. Ye all may know me, or ye may not. I've been wonderin around these parts for a few weeks now, getting me bearings. I be the cap'n aboard The Nightmare. I recently lost a large number of me crew in a horrible storm on my way into the docks. Among them, my first mate and my darling little sister.

As a young lass, I sailed under the command of Davy Jones aboard the Flying Dutchman. I've also been in ranks with Cap'n Jack Sparrow, as well as Cap'n Barbossa aboard The Black Pearl. Though while serving under Cap'n Barbossa, I was left on an island with the one and only Cap'n Sparrow. While on the island I learned a lot from the man, as well as about him.

Once we escaped the island, we parted ways and I found my way to the Nightmare

I gathered a crew, set sail, and here I am. It's not what I planned, but I go where the sea takes me.

My dear Patrick Hand, I be inquiring on your fine brass mounted gun with French lock. Flask, Pouch and tools; 1 pr. Breeches; and 1 one of yer linen shirts.

Boo

[Mark Read]

As a young lass, I sailed under the command of Davy Jones aboard the Flying Dutchman. I've also been in ranks with Cap'n Jack Sparrow, as well as Cap'n Barbossa aboard The Black Pearl. Though while serving under Cap'n Barbossa, I was left on an island with the one and only Cap'n Sparrow. While on the island I learned a lot from the man, as well as about him.

Careful lass, I would advise not mentioning all those affiliations too loud.... The Admiral has been about looking for those he can associate with pyracy to hang on the end of a short rope....

[Mark Read]

I picked up the coin Lady Barbossa had placed on the table. I held it low, so as not to be seen by others, and twirled it through my fingers thinking of how much this one coin could buy.... this one gold coin was equal to a pocket full of shillings...

I could fill table after table with fine ale... Things were looking up.

From the street we could hear the Herald calling -

Hear Ye! Hear Ye! All are invited to attend the service for those brave lads killed in the Oxford explosion last eve. Services begin at the church at 6 o clock. All are invited and encouraged to attend by His Excellency Lord Modyford and Admiral Henry Morgan.

"Well, there you have your first answer." I stood up beside her and motioned towards the door,"Shall we?"

[Capt. Sterling]

"My partner was a small man, so this should fit a growing boy."..

Sterling took up the red coat with care and slowly looked it over. "This would do Master Merriweather, the elder, well indeed. It is so skillfully made, that in time it may even come to serve the younger brother as well. I hope we can come to one accord concerning it's purchase price, sir. Tell me, how come ye by it?" He looked quickly across at the other man.

"Forgive me, I be not a suspicious man, but just one of a curious nature. I did not mean to be rude. Tis just, such a fine garment, that I would think anyone would be all too sorry to part with it."

[LadyBarbossa]

Hearing the Herald then nodded and turned her head to Read. "It appears you are correct, Mr Read."

Again, nodding.. then making way to the door. Many a thought swarmed through her mind. But she kept an alert eye upon Read. No way was this man to be trusted yet let alone out of her sights.

Outside in the afternoon sun, she glanced in both directions. Then turned to Read, "You've been here longer than I. Do you mind showing a Lady about town and to the Church for the Service?" Falling easily back into her genteel Ladylike manner.

((Barbossa,Sparrow and Davy Jones? How original. ))

[Major Thomas Beckwith]

Sitting in his barracks room, at his desk, Major Thomas Beckwith, Royal Marines, sits and writes to his father, Sir William Beckwith, by candle light... Major Beckwith pauses, thinking of the circumstances which brought him to Port Royal, and to his current post as Commander of the Royal Marine Detachment, as well as Gunnery Officer of Fort Charles Battery.

He thought back on his "dishonoring" a Lord's daughter in a London Inn, and his father's deal with Admiral Henry Morgan. If it weren't for his father's influence as a wealthy merchant, and financial backer of Morgan's exploits against the Spanish, would he now be sitting in this far English outpost in the West Indies? Likely not. And if it weren't for a sudden outbreak of dreaded Yellow Jack, which took the life of Fort Charles' Army gunnery officer, would he now have command of the fort's 38 guns? Perhaps, but not yet at his reletively young age of thirty years. Tired by the long day in the heat, Beckwith rubbed his eyes and set aside his correspondence.

He stood, pulled on his scarlet coat, buckled on his sword, and exited his rooms. The private outside his quarters snapped to attention, and Beckwith returned his salute.

Strolling across the parade ground in the center of the fort, he briefly inspected the neat stacks of iron cannon balls, noticing the corrosion just beginning to form. He'd have the sergeant of the guard form a detail to chip the rust, in the morning.

Major Beckwith strolled up the stone steps and exited the fort, aknowledging the sentry posted at the gates. Beckwith stopped and stared at the small vessels anchored in Chocolata Hole, wondering what cargo they were off-loading, and where they would head next.

Feeling thirsty, and craving companionship, he began the walk into town, passing Morgan's line, and St. Paul's. He thought briefly of the sailors killed in the harbour explosion, and removed his hat repectfully.

Lovely Colleen O'Donnell would be serving tonight at the Three Crownes... Beckwith suspected he would sample her other wares tonight, as well. With that thought, he quickened his step...

[sirhenrymorgan]

Jack pulled a bottle from beneath the bar.

"How are you Captain? Or should I say Admiral?"

Just titles dear sir. Soldiers and warriors are known for their deeds and courage. And you sir are as high of a rank as I in that regard. We both know that.

Jack smiled as he wiped the bar...

"Yes, that is true. So what have you in mind for your next adventure now that the Oxford lies at the bottom of the harbour. I have a feeling I'm to be involved in some way?"

Now Jack, sir. What would make you think differently? You're only one of my most trusted associates in this town. I assume you'll be at the meeting this eve?

"I will Henry. Of course. You can always count on me when it comes to riling the Spanish."

I lean into the bar so that the next conversation can't be overheard...

Who is that chap over in the corner. I know he's served with us before but can't place the name.

"That's Bart Treate," Jack whispers back. "He served under Bigford, God rest his soul. He was his gunner."

Ah, yes. Now I remember. Good mate, but always drunk. Even when he was sheets to the wind he was a better shot than any I had aboard my own ship.

Speaking of Bigford, I must head over the church. I have a few kind words to say about those aboard the Oxford.

See you this evening...