Snippet #2534283

Draed stood on the deck of his top of the line, beauty of a ship, Beatrice. Docked at the nearest port on Nassau he could find, this was the beginning of his return, a time to start anew, maybe even creating new tales of his adventures along the way.

“Now let’s see if the legend of Captain Dread is still alive.” He whispered to himself with vain in his voice.

Leaping off of his ship, he landed on the dock way as if he were a young man, planting his feet firmly. Draed then made his way into the inner workings of Nassau’s port town. He hadn’t been to the island in quite some time, but it was like a home away from home for him back in his active years. Seeing as it was the most infamous place for the works of pirates and criminals alike, he knew it wouldn’t be hard to find cheap help and a willing crew. But he wasn’t in search for some makeshift crew of no talented flunkies; Draed wanted the cream of the crop, and not a start-up project. Unfortunately he hadn’t a clue where to begin. Walking through the many paths which were infested with the less fortunate, the Captain approached a familiar sight. A black and white painted wooden door.

“Well some things never change. “ Draed chuckled as he opened the extremely old door.

Creaking open with the ring of a bell, the door widened. Walking in, Draeds boots clattered with each step he took. After entering the establishment he realized even the inside remained the same.

“Hello sir, may I help you?” A female voice interrupted the nostalgia that was currently washing over him from seeing the dust filled shack. The walls adorned with decade old animal heads and fancy rugs from across the seas. This place was home to stolen artifacts that typically only the wealthy cared for. But it was also a hub of information.

“Ah yes, is there a Fiona here?” Draed questioned, still looking over the place.

“Yes, that would be me.” The woman responded with a more intense look at the mention of the name.

Now looking directly at her, he gazed upon a beautiful, young woman with long, slick, black hair, emerald eyes, and thick red lipstick covering her luscious lips. He was a bit shocked, only because the Fiona he knew was a rather large, burly woman with a little bit too much hair on her chin, she was a nice lady though.

“No no, that’s not possible, I knew Fiona and you… you definitely aren’t her.” Draed said exaggerating that it couldn’t be the woman he once knew.

“What could you possibly want with my dead mother of ten years?” there was a hint of hostility in her voice.

“Mother? ...Dead?” He hadn’t known Fiona had any children.

“Why would any man do anything with a lumberjack of a woman like Fiona?”
“Well it’s possible she could have hidden the pregnancy with all that blubber…”
“How did she produce such a… beautiful young lady?”
Just some of the thoughts that raced through his head before the actual realization that another one of his old friends had met with an untimely death.

“Well… me and your mother knew each other way back when. I guess I was expecting to catch up with an old friend and maybe get some information, that’s all.” You could hear the sincere sorrow in his mild voice as he explained the situation to the lady in front of the counter.

“Well, don’t feel too bad, she died doing what she loved… smoking and drinking.” Scoffing, it was quite obvious she didn’t care too much for her mother.

“And you’ll be happy to know, I run the family business now.”

Walking slowly over to the counter, he stood in front of her. Towering over the woman, he shoved his hand into his coat pocket, and pulled out a hand of silver coins. Slapping the coins on the counter top, a grin replaced the solemn expression that it once had, while the clang of the change filled the silent cubby.

“No sir… information cost a little bit more these days.” She said looking down at the pile of silver.

Raising his eyebrows… he reached back into the coat, and a few more silver coins were plopped onto the counter. The woman smiled as the coins clanged against each other once again.

“Looks good to me… My name is Salia, Now what is it you need to know Mister…?” She said trailing on.

“Brooks… Draed Brooks.”

Her eyes widened. “How could one claim to be a man that is dead… a man that might not even exist?” Salia knew the legends. Her mother said she knew the infamous man, but one could only take that with a grain of salt, Fiona was known for her lies and tall tales.

“I assure you, I am no myth.” Draed said with a menacing look in his eyes, with his hand the hilt of his cutlass. Quickly removing the black sword from its sheath, it sliced the air and the point of the blade was near the tip of her nose.

Salia’s emerald eyes already wide, her mouth dropped open and she began to sweat… all in an instant. Draed tilted the blade to the left, showing The Feral insignia etched into the steel. Her eyes analyzed and recognized the mark.

“Shit!” She said backing away, legs a bit shaky.

Letting out a hefty laugh, he slid the sword back into its sheath.

“It was just a small joke girl! The Daughter of a fine woman like Fiona must be a Fine woman as well. Friends?” Draeds grin very friendly, putting his calloused hand out to give her a handshake.

Letting a huff of air out, she relaxed a bit, not taking the joke very well. Still keeping her distance from the man, Salia stretched her arm out, daintily shaking the man’s rough hand. Snatching her hand back, she folded her arms.

“Well about that information?” Draed questioned.

“What do you need?” The hostility in Salia’s voice returned, but it was more apparent now.