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A Letter of Marque

Continent of Drumin

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a part of A Letter of Marque, by varxint.

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varxint holds sovereignty over Continent of Drumin, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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Continent of Drumin is a part of A Letter of Marque.

17 Characters Here

Edusrt van der Zaal [51] Master Gunner, grand practitioner of the art of gunnery, amateur gunsmith and lover of gunpowder
Pavati [48] Sailing Master
Gareth Fletcher [46] Captain of the Obsidian Star.
Kaitsu Hoin [45] A strict taskmaster of a Bo'sun but otherwise an ok person. She dislikes speaking to others but generally has no problem with letting her swords do the talking.
Shaafir Malik "Finch" [37] Gifted carpenter and reluctant surgeon
Catalina Austerlitz [26] Recently homeless, cross dressing teen with a personal vendetta regarding pirates.
Jemsen Austerlitz [25] Recently homeless, though highly observant teen with dockside savvy.
Henry Smart [20] Jack of Swords
Maxime Laurent [16] Topsman on the Obsidian star. An accomplished knife fighter.

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2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher Character Portrait: Olivia Mastrontoni
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#, as written by varxint
Olivia fidgeted slightly. She was annoyed and a little frustrated. Her crew on the Jade Moon had been working for the last week on being sail ready. It had been three days since she received word that the crew of the Obsidian Star, the sister ship to the Moon was to arrive. Olivia had waited for them, orders came that she was to greet them and prepare them for their captain.

Who this person was, Olivia had no clue but she did as ordered and set them to work. The master gunner, carpenter, boatswain and sailing master had arrived right away. Others had arrived the next day.

This morning, found Olivia in a slightly foul mood. Word came down that a marine was to arrive, a transplant from another crew and a former pirate to boot. Also, she was to have the crew ready on the dock for a ceremony. The Obsidian Star’s captain was to arrive today and receive their marque.

And so, here she was. On the dock in the hot sun, the Queen and her entourage waiting none too patiently and the Obsidian’s crew at her side. Olivia sighed a little. Ten minutes late. On the makeshift stage the royals whispered to each other.

Olivia took a moment to look over the crew. Her eyes fell on the scarred face of the carpenter. A skilled man, it was clear the moment he stepped on the deck. Everything she had seen of Shaafir said he was a man made for working with wood. Her eyes turned to the boatswain. The thin, short woman was efficient. It was a quality that Olivia admired and slightly envied.

The newest arrival caught Olivia’s eye next. The red haired marine had shown up this morning with no idea why she had been transferred to the Star. Olivia wasn’t sure that she liked it very much. The crews were hand picked to each ship and it seemed odd that the woman, who had already been part of a crew, had been moved.

Olivia half smiled as she glanced at the master gunner. Truly a man with a passion for his job. The look in his eyes made Olivia wonder if he wasn’t just a little mad. On top of that she could have sworn she had seen him grin like a happy child while playing in the gunpowder.

A sneer formed as Olivia looked over at the sailing master. The man had a grip on the arm of his wife. He was whispering to her and Olivia could see the look of hate in the woman’s eyes and she did not blame her. Olivia also knew that since arriving aboard it had been Pavati and not her husband that had done the navigation preparations. Olivia had already found the man drunk twice in a corner while the woman delicately drew out a map.

She turned back to look at the royals, wondering how they were taking the waiting when she realized that there was another figure there. She had missed the person’s approach as she looked over the others. Olivia couldn’t tell anything from this angle. His back was to her as the queen handed him his marque and was speaking to him.

The short ceremony concluded, the man turned to face his crew. Olivia’s eyes went wide. It had been five years since she had seen him. Five years since the Cartographer had been boarded and so many slain. Five years since they had made port, a skeleton crew and parted ways.

The Queen finished her speech and Gareth left the stage.

She stared at him, her face slightly pale. She wasn’t quite sure she wasn’t seeing a ghost. Gareth. Stepping forward, she held out her hand to him. Her back was straight and she did her very best to keep her composure. “Welcome back, Gareth.”

***

Gareth received the summons days ago. He loitered. He called it preparing, but who was he fooling. He knew what the summons meant. He knew it was back on a ship. He’d heard the stories of the Queen gathering the best sailors. He’d heard the crew of The Cartographer was being called upon. Why not? They had direct experience. He also knew that meant Olivia would be called upon. She would have been the first. She was the one to lead them back to port. Sure, the crew gave him credit. Maybe he kept order, but it was all he could fall back on considering the circumstances. She was the one who kept the ship on course and in sailing condition. He just ensured all her orders were being fulfilled. So, he prepared. He gathered his things. He put off going until the Queen’s men came to physically escort him.

When he arrived at Garame’s docks he saw the make shift stage. He knew he was the last captain there. He didn’t want some ceremony but knew that royals lived on this. He waited until the crowd formed. Until The Obsidian Star was empty. Then, he went aboard. The first step aboard a ship in five years. He paused, took a breath, closed his eyes, smelled the scent of salt water and wet canvas that was so familiar it hurt. He opened his eyes. The breeze must have shifted and hit him directly in his face. He couldn’t think of another reason why his eyes might be watering at this moment. He shook his head and walked the deck. This was to be his ship. His. Since when did he have a ship? He paused at the main mast. He looked up. He thought of the man leading the pirates. He thought of everything that meant. His face hardened.

Fine. They want me to lead this ship? They want me to find this man and his band of criminals? They do not realize the force they have unleashed.

Already he had pulled strings. Already he had used any and every tool he knew about to weigh the odds in his favour.

There are only two outcomes. Utter destruction of him. Or me.

He left the ship and made his way through the crowd. Gently he wound a way to the stage. Almost unnoticed he mounted the stairs and met the Queen. With solemn ceremony and a hard look in his eyes, he accepted the letter.

“Your Majesty, I will hunt this man to my last breath.” He did not make this pronouncement to the crowd. It was quiet. To the Queen herself. Only those closest to the stage heard him and they shuddered at the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes. The Queen herself looked slightly uneasy but she shook his hand, handed the letter and presented him to the crowd.

“Captain of The Obsidian Star. Gareth Fletcher.”

There was scattered applause as Gareth faced the crowd.

The Queen continued, “Now that all the captains have finally graced us with their presence you may all conclude your training and sail at will. You have your orders. Bring this menace to justice.”

The crowd yelled and began streaming toward their respective ships.

Gareth stepped off the stage and was immediately confronted with Olivia. She was quite formally greeting him. He paused. No matter how hard he steeled himself for this moment it was still more than he thought it would be. He could barely nod at her, tentatively reaching for her hand. He couldn’t speak.

He looked at her, his eyes softened. Gareth still held her hand and they stood, both unsure of what to say next. He opened his mouth, pausing too long in forming his thoughts. There was the sound of footfalls around them as the crew approached their new captain. Introductions were in order.

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Character Portrait: Pavati
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The grip on her arm hurt. He was right to hold her so tightly though. In this crowd, all eyes on the queen she could easily blend in and slip away. Pavati shifted slightly, the fingers were pinching her skin.

"Stop your blasted moving. Can't you see there are important people around? Not that the likes of you would understand." The whisper was harsh and mocking in her ear. Her eyes watched the stage, she saw the man mount the stairs. So this was to be the captain. Not that it matter to Pavati, she was only there because John was making her come along. Again, he was smart to. Left alone she would have been gone before he had stepped fully aboard the ship.

Pavati watched as the new captain greeted the female captain who had been instructing them since their arrival. She rather liked the woman. Pavati got the sense that while Cpt. Mastrotoni never said anything, she was not fond of John. That was enough to make Pavati like her but she also commented favourably about the maps and things that "John" did and that gave Pavati a sense of pride. Pavati had overheard someone say that Olivia had been the sailing master of The Cartographer and she had so much she wished to ask the woman but didn't dare.

A hard pull on her arm made Pavati move. John dragged her to where the two captains stood. The others of the crew were all moving to greet the new captain as well. Pavati frowned and stood beside him as he cleared his throat, getting their attention. She looked over the new man. Slightly younger than John possibly and he had the look of a sailor.

"John Lotering. I am your sailing master. Glad to be aboard with you Captain Fletcher." John removed his right hand from Pavati's arm, replacing it with his left as he reached out to shake Gareth's hand. He dug his fingers into Pavati's arm, a silent warning to behave.

Pavati's eyes narrowed and she fought the urge to make a noise as the fingers bit painfully into her skin. Her fight instinct caused her to pull away just a bit. John's eyes turned on her, full of anger that she would dare move while he was speaking to his captain.

John, barely keeping his composure looked back at Gareth, "Don't worry, it doesn't speak much and I will ensure it behaves." Pavati turned to look at John, eyes narrowing but she said nothing. Her gaze turned to Gareth. No one on board had said anything and she didn't expect them to. A domineering husband was not unusual. None of them had seen the chain that held her to the desk as he made her work. Not that the chain was needed. Pavati was not used to being on a ship. She didn't have the legs to handle walking steadily on the rocking vessel. John had chided her for it, commenting that if she couldn't handle it while they were in port what was she going to do in the open ocean and in a storm.

Pavati could think of a number of things she would do once in the open ocean, most revolved around somehow pitching John overboard and into the the water. Sometimes she stabbed him first, other times he would hung up in a rope before falling over. These thoughts gave her comfort whenever her stomach churned and her cheeks paled as the deck under her rocked.

She seethed inside as John waited for Gareth's greeting.

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Character Portrait: Edusrt van der Zaal
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Edusrt van der Zaal shifted his bare feet on the cobblestones, the gray and tan pavings growing warm enough that the tough skin of his soles, began to burn, as the ship's company stood waiting on the shore. A thin sheen of sweat appeared on his inked and tan skin, as the rays beat down on them, from the crown of his shaved head to the top of his feet. A frown creased his lips, as his bright blue eyes stared towards gathering of nobility, his posture changing with each second, from the formal attention normally given to a powerful member of the Company, to close to a slouch as he could manage and not look like a sloppy greenhand. In the time they had been waiting, he could have burned through at least eight minutes of matchcord, maybe more.

Taking a deep breath, the tall Demician crossed scared arms over his chest and grunted sourly. He look rather like a common sailor, wearing only his trousers but the pair of pistols, tucked into the front of his belt, added to the fact that he was standing in front of the company, with the rest of the officers, marked him of some importance. Feel a little bored, he glanced around, making sure not to turn his head, so that the crew wouldn't notice him. It was a mottle collection of men and women assembled here, good Demicians like himself, Lisimens and others from the Old World, to dark skinned Ergolysens and even a few natives, although at least didn't looked pleased to be there.

As the Master Gunner's eyes turned back to the stage, his eyebrow arched slightly. Without fanfare, the second captain appeared to have arrived or at least that who he suspected the man was, seeing as he had stepped up before the Queen of Witfield and she was shaking his hand. Then his suspicions were confirmed, as the Queen herself announced the man to be the captain of the Obsidian Star, the ship he had been transferred to and named Gareth Fletcher. Memory itched in the back of his skull, some half remembered connection to the name but it faded, as his sharp eyes, caught the man walking off the stage. There was something about the woman, the female captain who had been running the show for the past few days, that caught this Captain Fletcher off guard.

His frowned returned, as his new leader faltered. With the crews pouring back aboard the ships and the officers of the Star approaching, Fletcher hesitated and fumbled with the offered hand of his fellow captain. First the man was late and then couldn't work up the nerve to shake a hand? What kind of man was this to lead them? What would the man do when they entered battle, wait until it was too late to give the order to fire and allow the enemy to rake them with shot and finally giving the word when the shivers were done flying? They'd be a ship full of dead or maimed men, if they ever reached port.

Edusrt had smoothed away the frown by the time he stepped up beside the sailing master and his native woman but he had to fight the urge to spit. Call his....well he thought she was his wife, it was disgraceful. Not that it was his business or place to interfere but he couldn't help but look down upon men who treated others like less then animals. He had seen men give more affection to a mongrel dog, who had stolen from their meal. But it was not his business. He was there to care for arms and ammunition and drill gun crews.

"Edusrt van der Zaal" said the Demician, "Master Gunner, assigned from The Demician United Trading Company ship Zeehaen."

4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Edusrt van der Zaal Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch" Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher
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#, as written by ElRey
It was an awful lot of formality and parading about for the sake of a handful of nobles. Shaafir immediately that those who had been called upon to hunt down The Hangman weren’t interested in such ceremony. His long lanky frame was unable to stand still, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. Ergolyse heritage having left him nearly a head taller than the surrounding crew, his rich chocolate eyes were allowed to remain locked on the vessel which would be his home for the foreseeable future; all but ignoring the royalty.

The Obsidian Star was a fine ship, a testament to the importance of their given task. Elements of craftsmanship from every nation were evident to the properly trained eyes of the carpenter. The narrowed curve of the hull from Islong for speed, the heavy reinforced skirting of Lisim warships, the rigging was Demecian as the thick ropes were strengthened and tinted green from the sinewy resin of the Colawb trees native to Demecia, and the final touch were the cannons, massive imposing weapons protruding from the ship, a sign of the wealthy Wifield benefactors of the mission.

In the process of admiring The Star, Shaafir noticed the man whom had already boarded. It was impossible to read the man’s face from such a distance, but it was clear by his body language that he wasn’t wholly comfortable. It was pointless to speculate, but Shaafir was sure the man was to be their captain long before he made his way through the crowd and approached the stage.

Over the steady lap of the waves and cry of the gulls, the brief exchange which took place between the man and the queen was all but inaudible. Some sideways glances shared between nobility and an uncomfortable hush was all the insight granted, implying a bitter history among The Hangman and the captain.

Several members of the audience cheered and clapped as the man’s identity, and Shaafir’s suspicions, were confirmed. There was little time wasted after Gareth’s introduction, the queen ordering the mass of recruits to their respective ships. Shaafir was eager for the task to get underway, lest it was sand between his toes, he didn’t care much for solid ground; instead preferring the faithful roll of the deck beneath his feet.

The captain himself made a beeline to Oliva Mastrontoni, the woman who had until now been tasked with keeping them in order. The recognition on both parties faces was clear as the sun in the sky, though Oliva seemed slightly more in control of her emotions over their reunion.

Making mental note of the shared past of the two captains, Shaafir moved to introduce himself, only to be jostled out of the way by a gruff man who smelled of booze dragging a woman by her arm.

“De’lit mer fashu.” the carpenter hissed, cursing the ignorant fool in his native tongue.

In an attempt to reign in his ruffled feathers, he instead turned his focus to the woman. She seemed like she’d be willing to chew off her own arm if it meant she could gain a little breathing room from her would-be overlord. Memories of Heldreg flooded back, causing Shaafir to noticeably bristle as he cast a disdainful look in the pair’s direction. The man introduced himself as the sailing master, though based on the smell of his clothing it was unlikely he was able to navigate himself home from a bar on most nights let alone a ships course. So that left the woman, whom John didn’t bother to give a name, referring to her as an it rather than dignifying her with an identity. Classic dominance move, a tactic of cruel and feebly minded men. She was the talent, not him despite his bravado.

Silently Shaafir promised himself that he would be keeping a close eye on the duo. A handful of others approached from behind Shaafir, though he found himself unable to take his eyes from the woman. Besides Shaafir himself, she was the only other that was noticeably foreign in a position above rigger or marine. The suspicion that she was the real brains behind what was likely the most important job aboard a ship captivated him, and a healthy respect was earned from her silent tolerance of the unspoken abuse. A shared past.

In his observing the pair, another stepped forward, a hawkish gunner by the name of Edurst. Hair kept in a shallow buzz, bare footed, looking more reddened by the sun by the minute despite his deep tan. The master gunner had a bit of a wild look in his eye, an unspoken eagerness and enthusiasm he exuded that bordered on unsettling.

The rest of the ship’s company still approaching, including a redhead and woman who looked far too small to serve any real purpose; Shaafir faced his new commander.

“Xele. Shaaf-" he caught himself, native tongue refusing to go quietly "The Finch. Carpenter & surgeon.” He did not present his hand, and kept his words brief, ending his opening statement with a curt nod to the officers.

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Edusrt van der Zaal Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch" Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher
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Kaitsu Hoin was a woman who was proud, not in the way westerners thought of pride, but it was the pride of one's self that kept one strong in the face of adversities. So, she was proud. Proud in her work, her instruments, her heritage and even her height. She was rather short, and many people overlooked her because of that, but she was nothing if not efficient. So, she became strong despite such a diminutive stature and specialized in running a ship-shape ship. She was a boatswain, or bo'sun, and would accept nothing but perfection as long as she remained on the ship in such a position.

Throughout the ceremony she couldn't help but think impatiently to herself, ignoring the words of the woman speaking. She was nothing to her, no matter the status, because she was scum. Everyone was who did not have their pride, and now days she found very few people who did have such a thing. It was rare now, and that was a shame. She remembers stories told to her by her grandfather as she sat at his feet of warriors long past and their bushido, their code of honorable living, their pride through which they set standards of conduct which they must meet. And finally, when she believed that there were no more like her that held onto old ways, or at least lived them without knowing of them, she had seen one Captain Gareth Fletcher. A man that held himself with pride. And since that day, it had been her determination, dream was too whimsical of a word she thought, to work with him as the only person who held such pride.

And now, now that that ambition is finally met after so many years of excelling, toiling and bumps in the road as a sailor, she let herself smile a little. But only for a second or so before the woman finally stopped speaking and the new crew mates went about learning of each other. Kaitsu had been more than happy meet some of these people and found that the woman-with-pride that stood next to her husband man-without-pride was to her taste, the master gunner was equally so and the scarred man, the Finch, was most notably a man she could work with. He was a man with pride, one who knew that his work was good and delighted in it. Yes, she would be glad to have him, the woman and that captain on this ship.

"I am Hoi-" She began before remembering that they introduced themselves with given name first, then family name and correcting her small slip, "Kaitsu Hoin. I am the boatswain." A quick look at the sun and she calculated the time almost precisely, so used to doing it rather than keeping inconsistent watches and such.

"We are already running late. That ceremony," the absolute distaste, not quite hatred for that was inefficient and useless, for such an equally useless and inefficient thing could easily be heard, "not only started late (how inefficient it was) but ran long." She stopped and, like the carpenter/surgeon, she didn't offer her hand but instead preformed a flawless quarter-bow at the waist (only a slight tilt of the upper body) in the proper fashion of her people. Usually she would only bow her head to acknowledge people, but she felt that if there was a ceremony of nay kind (no matter how useless) she ought to at least give some polite formalities. Rudeness was very frowned upon in her upbringing, and though she had lived with rough sailors and their ilk for quite some years, she had not abandoned such thoughts and her bushido was just as thickly bound to her as any warrior of her people.

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Character Portrait: Jillian Farglow
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Jillian looked on at the queen and the other nobles standing on their stage waiting for thier Captian. The captian was late and an already dull and pointless ceremony was getting even more painfully boring. Finally though a man came onto the stage he was handed some sort of paper and everyone cheered... Big deal...can we just get a move on now Jillian thought having to use every nerve of her being to keep her from shouting it out loud.

The captian then came over to the waiting crew where he was stopped cold by Olivia Mastrontoni The woman that until now was acting as the captain. Jillian could tell there was some history between the two captians maybe even a spark of love... but that was second on her list now that the captain was here she hoped for answers. She started to walk over but found herself in the back of the mob. First came the map maker or so he claimed it wasn't hard to see the woman he dragged along was the real brains. She had only know the man for a day now and already she wanted to put a bullet between his eyes and the look on the womans face made it clear she'd be happy to she Jillian do it. Next came the master gunner with a long and crazy name no doubt as crazy as the man seemed to be she hoped he didn't blow up the ship... but if he did we'd have the next man to help us out. He was a scarred man and introduced himself as the Carpenter and surgeon. It seemed like an odd mix and Jillian vowed to herself not to get hurt she didn't want this guy cuting on her with carpenter tools. Then came up a short and thin woman she looked like she could be easily broke in half but she had a noble spirit about her a spirit that would likly clash with Jilian's roguish ways. But all this was thoughts for later as she herself finally came before the captian...

"Name's Jillian Farglow but you can call me Jill. Was just transfered to the crew yesterday from The Murderous Tale... maybe you know why.."

7 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Edusrt van der Zaal Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch" Character Portrait: Jillian Farglow Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher Character Portrait: Olivia Mastrontoni
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#, as written by varxint
Olivia saw the softening in Gareth’s eyes and before she could say anything introductions began. She slowly released his hand as he met his crew. Olivia moved to stand at his side, giving Gareth a full view of the officers and his crew.

She watched him through side glances as they each introduced themselves. Olivia held in her reaction as the sailing master referred to his “wife” as an it. She remained very impassive but it was easy to see the man’s nature made a few of the crew wary.

Gareth reluctantly released her hand and turned to his duties. His eyes hardened again as the sailing master introduced himself.

“Master Lotering, welcome aboard.” He was very formal in this greeting, the welcome sounding rote and slightly forced. He glanced at John’s hand gripping the arm of the woman he referred to as an it. This did not sit well with Gareth. He looked at the woman carefully and saw the hate there, "Oh no, this does not sit well at all. Why is she here?"

Gareth turned his gaze back to John. He narrowed his eyes, “Report to the ship. You and I will have some... issues to discuss.”

After dismissing the mapmaker Gareth turned to the ink covered Demician, “Master Zaal, a pleasure to have you aboard. I look forward to discussing the armament of my ship with you. Please, go aboard. I plan to address all my officers personally once the ship is away from land and officially in my control.”

Gareth then addressed the tall Ergolyse craftsman. In a halting, accented Ergol, “Shaafir, xele.” He grinned slightly, “Practiced that for a bit. Not great I know. I’ll call you Finch here on out, don’t want to further mutilate your language. It is good to have you aboard. Commanding a ship is much easier when she, and her crew, are well cared for. Again, I’ll speak more with you on the ship. I am... uneasy about certain aspects of other crew members and I would like your opinion.”

From one extreme to another, Gareth thought his neck would get quite the workout if he often had to address his carpenter and boatswain back to back too often. Gareth returned the bow as a superior officer would to a respected subordinate, “Hoin, I will not waste more time. This ship is to be ready to sail within twenty minutes. I know you will have it ready. We will discuss further how I like my ship run once under way. Happy to have you aboard.”

As the flame haired woman introduced herself, Gareth thought, "Ah yes. Good to see I had enough time still."

“Welcome aboard Jill. The answer to your question is simple. I have been preparing my crew for some time. Where I could I influenced the choices. Based on reputation I requested people who I knew would be good at their job. Who would fit my style of command. I was not born to be a captain, but if I am to be one I will ensure I stack the deck in my favour as much as possible. So, when I recently heard about you and your history I asked for you to be transferred. It wasn’t that hard to get agreement. I was just concerned there would not be enough time. But, you’re here. I have certain expectations that come with your reassignment and said stacking of the deck. We will discuss them further on the ship. The short answer to your question is, you’re here because I asked for you to be here.”

After Gareth gave his orders to the crew and they headed to the ship he turned to face Olivia again. This time, more prepared, he was able to look her in the eye and smile, “Olivia.”

He took her hand, “It has been far too long and I wish we were able to reunite under friendlier conditions. However, seeing you again...” He paused and looked at her fondly, “It’s not coincidence our ships are paired.”

Olivia had watched as Gareth diplomatically greeted each of the crew and sent them to the boat. She listened as Gareth told Jill that he had her moved. “Interesting....”

She was mildly taken aback as he turned to look at her again. This time is was she that reacted visibly as he took her hand. “Not a coincidence? Have you been pulling more strings then?” She smiled at him. Five years was a long time and yet, even with so much unspoken between them it was like old times.

Olivia shook her head, knowing what Gareth’s answer was going to be. “I am flattered that you would have us paired together. I know what getting the Hangman means to you.” A look of sadness passed over her features, something for him alone to see.

She squeezed his hand a little tighter. “I thought a great deal about you over these last years.” Olivia’s voice was quiet. “It is very good to see you again Gareth.”

“I don’t wait for things to happen fortuitously anymore Olivia. When I want something, I go after it now. I wanted to be back with you and I am. I wanted this crew, based on reputation, and I have them. However, it’s just reputation. You have seen them now. What do you think of them?”

Olivia was a little taken aback. Gareth was not the quiet, cautious man she had known but things had changed. “You wanted to be....” Olivia fell silent for a moment trying to compose herself. Her cheeks flushed slightly, uncharacteristically for her.

Clearing her throat slightly, she tucked a piece of her hair back under the bandanna that was holding it back. “Your crew. Yes I have been watching them. Not the marine, as you know obviously but the rest.” She nodded. “You chose well. Kaitsu is efficient. Your ship will be run well, no worries there. She works quickly and don’t let her size fool you. She is quite capable.”

“Your master gunner...” Olivia chuckled. “I would not let him ten leagues near gun powder except for what I have already seen him do more than makes up for the look in his eye. I have only watched him for a couple of days and while I think he is a little odd, he will do you well with his creativity.”

“Now, your carpenter. Gareth, the man was made for working on a boat. He knows the boat, he already has the Star’s ear. He knows her.” Olivia shook her head. She didn’t have the words to accurately depict the skill she had seen in the few days Finch had been on board.

“I have one warning for you Gareth. Your sailing master, the man is trouble.” Anger seethed just under her words. “The man is a drunk and there is no way he should be on your boat. He is not fit to sail a dingy let alone the Star.” Olivia stepped in close to Gareth. “Listen, it’s his wife. The native. She is the one that is making the maps, setting the courses. Be very careful Gareth, it is a fine line you will walk.” Olivia cast a glance to where the royal entourage was slowly leaving the dock. “It is John’s commission but her work. If you get rid of him, he will take her. If you keep him but bring attention to her, he will hurt her.” Olivia stepped back just slightly, enough to see Gareth’s face but still be close. “You need her if you are going to sail. She is good. But his temper is quick and violent. He will be drunk most of the time, mark me on this.”

Gareth listened intently as Olivia ran down the crew. He was momentarily distracted when she stepped in close and her scent brought back many pleasant memories. His attention was snapped back though as she mentioned John and his violent tendencies, “I understand Olivia. Thank you. It is good you warned me. I was wondering why the woman was coming aboard. I was about to kick her off my ship. Apparently I would have gotten rid of the wrong person. I will take care of this distraction before we meet any of our targets. This would not be good to have linger.”

He stepped back and looked her over once again. A soft smile played on his lips, “The mantle of captain looks good on you Olivia. I knew it would. I hope to be welcome aboard your ship some time when we weigh anchor. You will always be welcome aboard mine.”

Olivia smiled almost shyly as Gareth complimented her. “I...I am glad to see you on a boat again. I wish...” She looked to where the Jade Moon waited. “Yes, when we weigh anchor. I look forward to being able to catch up with you properly. Perhaps over some rum, in case it is chilly.” A playful smile now played there on her lips. She hoped that memory would mean as much to him as it did to her.

Memories brought a smile to Gareth’s face. Olivia leaned in again and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Gareth closed his eyes and relived a past moment, enjoying her presence.

Olivia stood straight again, her face the mask of professionalism. “I wish you smooth seas Captain Fletcher.” She turned and walked up the dock to her own ship. Olivia walked up the gangplank, stopping halfway to look back at him. She paused for a just a moment before going aboard the Jade Moon. Her figure lost in the activity there.

Gareth watched her as she moved away. Staring without leering. Finally, he nodded his head curtly and turned. He strode onto the ship just as the final orders to set sail were being given.

Once the ship had sailed more than a half kilometer from shore Gareth summoned the crew to the main deck. He stood on the quarter deck, looking over everyone. Fully assuming the role of captain he addressed the crew with authority, “Welcome aboard the Obsidian Star. Make no mistake, this is a fighting ship so I will demand utmost attention to detail and dedication to one’s tasks. We are hunting a great menace for all exploring nations. The Queen has asked us to bring them to justice. This is my ship, so I will interpret justice as I see fit. My justice will be meted out from the mouth of a cannon. From the barrel of a pistol. From the tip of a sword. I will give no quarter to these scum. I expect the same from all of you. We are within sight of shore still. If there is a problem with my justice, then you are welcome to swim back. If you stay aboard this ship I will expect you to behave as though this goal of meting justice is your personal goal, as it is mine. You are all fine sailors and I will treat you as such. We will have no problems if you perform as you are capable. Now, let’s sink some pirate scum.” With a cheer from the general crew Gareth stepped down to the main deck. The crew dispersed to their assigned tasks and Gareth sought out John.

With a slightly condescending tone he address the mapmaker, “Master Lotering. You and I have something to settle. You are commissioned as my sailing master. The reputation of... your... maps has been made very clear to me.” Gareth shifted his eyes to the woman then back to John, “However, it is very unusual to bring someone else with you. Why is she here? Is she to be a part of the general crew? In that case she can be assigned a bunk below decks, like the rest. And I will ensure she has her list of tasks to complete. I expect you will address her by name and not as property. I will not have people treated as property aboard my ship.”

Gareth stared at John expectantly. Waiting to see what this man could possibly say to maintain the illusion.

4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Edusrt van der Zaal Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch" Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher
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John nodded to Gareth as the captain told him they would have things to discuss and asked him to head onto the ship. He gripped Pavati’s arm harder and began to push his way past the others. His pull on her caused to her to bump into Edusrt and Shaafir. She managed to glance at them both before she cast her eyes downward again.

John pulled her up the gang plank. “You couldn’t just hold still, couldn’t just be still.” He was extremely angry with her. Pavati stumbled as they boarded the ship. The rocking under her feet as they stepped on deck made her stumble to her knees. John stopped as the woman collapsed. “Useless. Absolutely useless. I should let him throw you off the boat.” John reached down to grab her again.

Pavati looked up at him, hate burning in her eyes. “If you have him throw me off the ship I will run and you will be called out for the drunken fraud you are.” Her voice was strong as she spoke to him.

John paled slightly, “Get up!” He looked down over the railing to see the others coming aboard. “Get up!” He grabbed her arm twisting it as he pulled her onto her feet. Pavati winced, a hiss breaking through her teeth. Quickly he moved her into their small quarters.

John shoved her in and shut the door behind her. Pavati fell to the floor as he shoved her in. “You better keep your mouth shut. I need to figure this out.” She turned to scowl at him. John began to pace. Pavati huddled under the desk, attempting to remain out of his way. A bottle of rum, one of many that John had stashed, came out and he drank a swig every time he crossed the room.

By the time Gareth was back on board, John had a plan. It was weak but he hoped he could pull it off. He was also very drunk. John tripped slightly over his feet as he pulled Pavati to stand. He twisted her left arm painfully behind her back.

“Listen to me now, now...lisssten....” He slurred slightly, reeked of rum and Pavati held her breath. The twisting of her arm was growing steadily intense. “I will talk, you just stand there and try not to screw it up.” There was a pull on her arm, a twist up and Pavati heard a slight snap. Her face contorted with pain. John, oblivious to her discomfort, opened the door and forced her out and onto the deck.

Gareth gave his speech and John did his best to remain upright. It seemed to him that the sea in the port was choppy today. Beside him, Pavati kept her head down and held her left arm close across her body. She could move it but it hurt.

Around them, crew cheered the captain's speech, John barely remained standing and Pavati kept trying not to draw attention to herself. She did not belong here but she enjoyed the maps and calculations so much that part of her longed to be a part of this.

Gareth came down, found and addressed John directly. John tried very hard to stay stable. He did not notice the condescending tone or Gareth’s look at his wife. He was just trying to keep things straight in his head. He had a plan, or at least he was sure he did. John's mind was foggy and he wished the water wasn't so choppy today.

Pavati looked up as Gareth approached and she made note of everything. The way he talked to John, the look to her and the expectant way he waited for John to come up with some plausible reason for her to be on the ship. She held her arm and her breath, watching the man who would decide her fate.

John barely contained his anger at Gareth’s questions. He almost forgot this man was his captain. “It belongs to me. I brought it so I would not lose it or have it run away.You know how they can be." He sneered at the suggestion that she be removed from his quarters. "Not general crew. I hurt my hand, cramps sometimes. Old wound and all. From long ago days, you know how that is." John tried to give the Gareth a friendly smile. "She helps me with the maps when my hand aches.”

Pavati caught the slip. John referenced “her” and while she didn’t smile outwardly, inwardly she was gleefully laughing that Gareth could make John so uncomfortable.

John was now just barely comprehending what Gareth was saying about referring to her by name, not property. He had been too focused on his reasoning. He frowned heavily. “But it...she....” John fumbled over his words, the rum and anger making it hard for him to focus. He was enraged now, face turning very red. “She is needed to help with the maps. That is all. She is not general crew.” He was breathing heavy now and Pavati wondered if he might hit Gareth and secretly she hoped he would. Perhaps Gareth would punch John out, lord knew the man deserved it.

Pavati waited. Her arm began to ache terribly and she swallowed down the nausea it brought. Would Gareth accept such an explanation? Would he throw them off the boat? he obviously knew more than he was saying but then why the charade?

The boat rocked ever so gently but to Pavati, who had no sea legs, it felt as if she was being bounced side to side. She tried hard to remain on her feet and just narrowly succeeded. She made a small noise of pain as her arm jostled. Dark eyes looked immediately to John, praying the man hadn't heard. John was too focused on Gareth and trying not to blow up at the captain to notice such a minor thing.

"So she stays with me and helps when I need it. She will remain in the room and will stay out of the way." John rocked slighlty on his feet. "Acceptable Captain?"

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Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch" Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher
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#, as written by varxint
Gareth almost passed out from intoxication just standing near the man as John began to speak. As he went on with his fanciful talk of an old injury Gareth could barely contain his contempt. “Old wounds? I know how it is? This man would be lucky to survive a basic training run with me.” He watched as both the man and the woman swayed as the boat rocked. The woman swayed and winced with the movement of the boat. John just swayed with his own drunken movements. Gareth looked over the woman again. The way she held her arm. The other bruising, faint, but visible. Gareth seethed.

Thinking quickly through his options, “I cannot possibly field promote a non crewman to officer within the first hour of my captaincy. Everyone on this crew knows it’s the right thing to do but the optics would not be right. I need to put her in a position to show her abilities and I need to put this lout in a position to destroy his unearned reputation. In good time. But will she survive long enough?”

Gareth knew he had to tread carefully lest the man take his embarrassment out on the woman. However, this lack of discipline, this dereliction of duty, could not be allowed.

“Actually, John will take care of my problem just by being himself,” he realized. All he had to do was put John in a position where the result was obviously John’s alone.

He gritted his teeth, looked at the woman with an apologetic glance and stated, “You may have your assistant, Lotering. That is an acceptable arrangement,” he paused and stared him dead in the eye, “for now. Though I will know her name. Not that I would be surprised if you’ve forgotten it. I would not be surprised if you’ve forgotten your own name.”

Gareth drew himself into an authoritative stance. He stared at his drunken ‘sailing master’ with disdain. “That being settled for the moment, there is dereliction of duty to discuss.” Gareth raised his voice, ensuring much of the crew would hear. Gareth was going to use this as an example and show the rest of the crew what he would and would not accept while on duty.

“Lotering, your condition is a disgrace. It is an insult to your position. An insult to your crew mates and an insult to me, personally. You are not fit for active duty. I am relieving you as ship’s master until you are sober. If I ever see such a disgusting display from you again you will spend a week in the brig. This ship must be ready to make fast course adjustments and always be aware of where she is. If you cannot provide this service I will find someone who can. I don’t want to see you again until you are sober. You are to stay in quarters and sleep it off.” Gareth stepped quite close to John, nose to nose, “Do you understand me sailor? You are treading very near to your career’s destruction. Don’t think I will give you any leeway beyond what I am begrudgingly giving you now.” Gareth stared at John, barely attentive to any response he might have to his orders. He watched, more out of concern that he treated the woman properly than out of any worry that his orders were not going to be followed.

Gareth waited until John and the woman walked away before he turned to his next task.

He knew his next stop would have to be his boatswain. He had a discipline issue to address and it was a good way to establish the expectations of a tight, well run, ship. He had no worries that Kaitsu would perform these duties well, but he wanted to ensure the dialogue was open and he would need some help to ensure John was exposed as the fraud he was. Gareth found Kaitsu and addressed her, “Kaitsu, good work, as expected, getting the ship underway quickly. I don’t expect I have to tell you I like a tightly run ship. We cannot afford little delays because we are under prepared. I knew I would not have to worry about that with you aboard. Keep me informed about the goings on of the crew. Let me know if you see trouble brewing. Zaal will no doubt have experiments and projects. Give him reign as long as he doesn’t blow up the ship.” He grinned a little.

Gareth sighed and became more serious, “That said, we do have a problem to address. John is a drunk. He cannot be trusted with alcohol. I need you to search his quarters and remove every trace... except.” He moved a little closer to her and lowered his voice, “Leave one. I know it’s not in your nature to do an incomplete job, but this part is to complete another task that is more important. We need to get this man off the ship, but we need to have him show his own incompetence. It is too early for me to unilaterally remove a crew member. Yet, we all know he should be removed. Let’s let him tie his own noose. Leave one. He will find it. He will use it. He will provide his own destruction. I will then be in position to make a change and promote the person who is more deserving of the role.”

Gareth stepped back and nodded, “Thank you Kaitsu. I will send Finch with you. I think the woman is injured and I think Finch may be in a position to provide me additional support for my case against John.”

Gareth then sought out the tall surgeon and waved him over. “I did it again. Back to back. This may be more common than I thought.”

Once Finch approached, Gareth looked up, “Fine work in these ships. I am happy to have one of your reputed skill and craft aboard. I will endeavor to keep your work minor, both on the ship and on my crew, but it is comforting to know I have someone who can cover anything we may run across.”

Again, Gareth addressed the issue with John in a serious manner, “Finch, I’m aware of your history. I hope to provide some benefit from a horrid past. The woman with John is injured. I have my suspicions. You may be in a good spot, both from your history and as a doctor, to recognize a specific cause of an injury. Please, if you notice anything about the woman’s injuries, come directly to me. Do not confront John. That would make my job harder. I just need proof to back up my move to have him off this ship. I would appreciate any help you could provide in that. Kaitsu is going into his quarters momentarily to search them. If you would accompany her to look at the woman’s injuries and to provide back up if John gets resentful of the intrusion.”

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch" Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher
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Kaitsu had been coiling some ropes so that they would not create problems later, and so cause inefficiency, when the Captain spoke to her. Though she admired him greatly, she made no implication of it past the respect due to him because of his station. It simply wasn't in her nature, sure she deeply respected him, but she wouldn't show him more than proper, even if no one else would know of 'proper' ways of her people aboard this ship. She did have her pride after all.

However, when the Captain spoke the words “That said, we do have a problem to address. John is a drunk." A nearly out-of-character, sadistic grin covered her face and she caressed the handle of her short spear lovingly, as a mother might to her first-born male-child. She had been hoping she could met out proper punishment to a man who behaved so dishonorably, especially in public. She visibly deflated when Captain Fletcher, well, visibly if you knew how to spot the signs other than her grin disappearing into her normal stoic look.

"Ah, understood, Captain Fletcher-taishou. I shall do that as soon as we have set off so he cannot buy more before we leave." She watched the Captain move to talk to the carpenter/surgeon, Shaafir. She would talk to him next, perhaps he could check the storage below and make sure that the liquor was locked up well, and if not make something to rectify such a situation. She was planning to bring that man's alcohol down there and store it, after all, wasting food and drink was not efficient at all.

So, she waited patiently, with eyes like a hawk's, for the conversation to finish and for the ship to set off. Still, she coiled the rope that was easily as thick as her forearms, waiting and watching like a snake, though she had no such intentions to harm. Her eyes were sharp and 'unnaturally' colored, even for her people, and so she was often compared to carnivorous, hunting animals, so much so, and from a time when she was very young, that a thought like that was firmly rooted in her head. People were carnivores or herbivores, strong or weak, and there were no exceptions. To survive, one had to be strong, and so she was... Her gaze rarely wavered and it tended to make people feel uncomfortable, like herbivores, she called them in her mind, because saying something like that would be rude if they weren't your opponent in honorable battle.

She sighed a little, herbivores got on her nerves easily. They were weak, inefficient and tended to crowd... Ah well, Kaitsu supposed, At least this crew has its carnivores and I'm not the only hunting animal...

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Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch" Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher
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#, as written by ElRey
Instinctually Shaafir did his best to avoid the woman who was pulled almost directly into his chest by her thoughtless husband. The dock was tightly cluttered with bodies, and despite his efforts both he and Edgar bumped roughly into their true navigator. A putrid stench left in John’s wake caused the Elgoysian’s nose to rumple in disgust. Though he had long since dismissed any notion of a benevolent god, he silently prayed for the woman’s sake that the alcoholic fraud had not cursed her with any children yet.

Keen peripheral vision caught him as he turned to board. A parting kiss from one captain to another? This thickened the plot. Though it was of little surprise, Finch had a nose for reading people, his suspicions now confirmed as Gareth watched her disappear onto The Jade Moon. Chaos and trauma had a funny way of driving people together, and if The Hangman and her crew were involved in the two captains shared past it was undoubtedly involved both in droves. His prying eyes back towards the ship as the captain turned, not wanting to seem overly inquisitive on private matters; quickly following Gareth on board.

The gentle lull of the ship felt good under Finch’s feet. He stood still, allowing the river of sailors and crewmen to pour around him, squinting up at the crow‘s nest and slowly running his eyes up and down the entire structure on which it was perched. Even through the harsh flare of the sun hiding just behind the furled sail his trained eyes could make out the hearty reinforcement. Much of the wood in the New World was denser, heavier, less prone to splitting and snapping. It appeared who ever drafted the plans for this vessel was more than aware. Using a clever triangular base to double both as an initial ladder and sturdy support for the towering mast. It was likely that even a direct blast from a heavy cannon wouldn’t collapse the beam, a fact Shaafir was more than grateful for.

He smiled approvingly, turning and running his fingers across the smooth surface of the banister. He had the benefit of not having much to do initially besides get a feel for the ship. Mercifully no one had been shot yet, which was more than he could say for some of the crew he had the misfortune of being assigned to. Even “her majesty’s” royal navy was caulk full of ignorant and violent men. Finch had already picked up on the eyes and whispered words between some of the marines and sailors he walked amongst, even others from Ergolyse were occasionally bigoted towards his people, Berghul, Sand-Walkers. Truthfully it was of little concern, they’d not last very long without his talents and even the most hateful man knew the value of a doctor on board. In his childhood a woman had been saved herself from being ravished by the entire crew aboard The Skyward Star with her medical knowledge. It was a lesson he often repeated to himself when his stomach started to turn.

As the crew assembled on the main deck just out of port the Captain addressed the crew, making clear his intentions and rules while aboard the vessel. There was a discernable hardness to his voice, like a scary mask put on to frighten children, to emphasis his point. Yes, there was no doubt. Gareth wouldn’t stop until he caught up with his past or it destroyed him. His eyes had gone cold and dark, revealing an internal fire that burned like a frozen ocean wind on bare flesh.

Finch shuddered slightly. There was little qualm he had with violence in the face of self preservation; but a vendetta like Gareth’s could drive a man to do horrible, deceitful things in the name of the greater good. It was a dangerous line they would be walking, Shaafir promised himself to be vigilant, especially once they found themselves hot on the trail of their pirate prey.

As the crew dispersed to their work, Shaafir briefly busied himself admiring more of the ship’s construction before the call of his pseudonym drew his attention to their captain. In a handful of long strides he had made his way to their leaders side, who seemed to be discussing something with the smallest member of their crew.

Only his eyes smiled with pride for only a passing moment at Gareth’s remark of his skill, attention too quickly focused on the words which came next. His face hardened, muscles in his jaw puffing out as teeth clamped together. The fact Gareth seemed to be on top of the situation did little to comfort Shaafir in the knowledge John was not to be dealt with promptly.

“Ni’ghatta! Dezoleh hauk-” Finch growled in uncharacteristic protest. Catching himself, his face contorted in frustration. “Yes, Captain. This one will see your task done.”

His eyes turned downward to meet Kaitsu, their tiny boatswain, who seemed to be sizing him up considerably as she moved ropes that seemed to outweigh her by a great deal. The pair paused a moment, the intentions of both unclear but the goal the same. Shaafir wordlessly steered to the door which housed the drunken abuser and his wife, awaiting his much smaller companion to follow suit.

4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Edusrt van der Zaal Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch" Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher
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#, as written by varxint
Gareth noted the reluctant restraint in both of his officers, “John has obviously been making a name for himself before I got here. At least it appears I won’t have to gather an airtight case to get him off this ship.”

He nodded perfunctorily at them, “Thank you. By the book. Let’s do this right and ensure the crew stays with us.” With that, and the confidence that his orders would be executed with efficiency, Gareth turned and headed below deck. He could only imagine that the master gunner would be in the powder room, or close by. Either inspecting the guns and keeping them in firing condition, or tinkering with some new innovation.

The acrid scent of an open powder keg hit his nose as he stepped into the powder room. The room was neatly organized, with one open keg in the centre. Gareth interrupted Edusrt while he was working on the loading mechanism of a musket, “Hello Edusrt. Good to have you aboard. I expect to get heavy use out of our guns. Both on the ship, and our personal weapons. I have heard stories of your projects and experiments. I endorse any advantage we can gain through inventive new uses of weapons. I only ask to try and keep Finch’s work to a minimum.” He chuckled lightly, “And suffice to say, don’t blow up the ship, okay?”

Gareth looked over the musket with curiosity, “Interesting. Looking to lower reloading time? I can understand that. I had thought about some ideas for my pistols as well. Something to keep the powder and bullet all together so there is no mucking about. Anyway, we’ll have plenty of time to talk about ideas later.”

Gareth drew his pistols and held them by the barrel, handles toward Edusrt, “Speaking of my pistols. Some say I have a pretty good shot, but from what I hear you can tweak a weapon beyond the normal bounds. Please, I would like to take advantage of your skills. Could you work your magic on my personal weapons. These have been with me my whole career. The last few years I have not had a need to fire them. I expect that to change soon and would like a skilled eye to prepare them.” The pistols themselves looked to be very well maintained. The barrels and firing mechanism were clean. The handles had the warm glow of wood well used. An expert eye could see that they had not been fired in some time though.

Finally, to ensure the safety of the ship and crew from a raving drunk, Gareth addressed the obvious, “We’ve all seen what John is capable of. Let’s ensure he doesn’t manage to do anything stupid while in a drunken rage. Keep him out of the powder room. Lock the door. Call myself or Kaitsu if he is getting unruly. As a last resort, if he’s that drunk, convince him of his need to rest as gently as possible.” Gareth sighed, “I hope it doesn’t come to that. I will endeavour to address this problem before it escalates. I have Kaitsu and Finch looking for evidence of his misdeeds. It’s hard to throw someone off the ship just because they get drunk. However, if he proves that he is incompetent or a danger to the ship or crew, well, that’s another story. I expect that will be shown soon enough and I can have him off this ship without anyone questioning why.”

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Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch"
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Kaitsu made a small show of getting up for the large man who was to be her partner for the first objective given to them specifically by the Captain. She already thought that he was a good, proud man, one that she could respect.

"Come on. We must see to the Captain's orders." Without making sure the giant of a man was following her, she was sure he wouldn't disobey his captain, that would be dishonorable, Kaitsu began walking briskly, and efficiently with an economy of moment, as she always does, towards the intended cabin.

Within moments she had crossed the ship and knocked on the cabin door and without waiting for more than a second or two, for she had no love for such an unprideful man, she opened the door. The flimsy lock that should have been replaced, it was only a temporary lock that had been overlooked, simply broke without much resistance to the small woman who held more strength than it looked to be possible.

A quick look around revealed to Kaitsu a single bunk, a table and a chair in the small quarters. There are two chests which she assumed, quite correctly, to be the personal belongings of the two inhabitants. The bed is made though there is another blanket almost carelessly tossed on top creating a falsely slovenly look. The man sat on the bed, looking intoxicated still, and the woman at his feet beside him. Kaitsu nearly snarled at such a position, especially as the woman seemed to be favoring her left arm, it sat quite delicately in her lap and her clothes were much too large, and there was a red mark on her cheek that most assuredly wasn't there when they boarded the ship.

"I have been ordered by the Honorable Captain Gareth Fletcher to search these quarters for any substances with which a man might become intoxicated and therefore ignore their promised duties," Kaitsu shot a sharp glare at the man in question, though her voice never wavered from its impossibly bored tone, however if one knew how to listen, cruel amusement could easily be heard, "And confiscate them." Those three words were said so resolutely that there was no way that they could possibly be disputed, especially with such an imposing man in stature as the one behind her. Though what she did not have in stature was made up in the absolutely dangerous way she moved, in the way of a predator. Every move was calculated and composed and contributed to her goal.

Kaitsu began looking immediately, there was no reason to wait and her search easily yielded results. The bottles were not particularly well hidden in the first place. First, the chest closest to her. Four bottles of rum and, it appears, other than the bottles everything was messily tossed into this chest. In the second chest there is yet another bottle of rum, a great deal of parchement, instruments for measuring and calculating. There are some seal skin wraps for protecting the maps from water damage, ink and quills. This chest is much neater and well packed. The bottle appears out of place with the neat and organized way that the rest of the gear is packed. Someone obviously took a great deal of care to protect the ink and quills, as well as the spyglass from transportation damage. In the bottom of the second chest there is also two simple shift dresses and a comb. These things appear to have been folded as small as possible, tucked far down and convered as if being hidden. Another sneer worked itself onto her face.

Searching the rest of the room she found another bottle of rum stashed under the mattress and an empty bottle that is laying on the floor. Kaitsu took great pleasure in snatching these up and holding them seemingly carelessly. And stashed in between the two chests, it looks like someone, not very well of course, was trying to hide it, it being a chain with a cuff large enough for a forearm, or ankle. She had guessed as much from the faint rattle if she heard when she knocked on the door to come and inspect the room. As if it were hastily hidden, poorly at that. And with that, she leaned in the doorway and watched with hawk-like eyes the large carpenter/surgeon deal with the woman.

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Character Portrait: Edusrt van der Zaal Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher
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"Horloge het u ezel" muttered Edusrt in his native Demician, glaring at the man with the wife, as he pulled her hard away from the captain, forcing her to bump into him and the Ergolysen carpenter, before adding a second grumble as he caught the look she gave them, "Mei castreert zij u in uw slaap."

Clearing his throat and smoothing his face, the Master Gunner turned his attention back to his new captain. He was briefly acknowledge, which didn't bother him in the slightest and when dismissed, saluted. The man, no matter how hesitant he appeared to be, had been commissioned by a queen and the commission at least, deserved respect. It was also a proper salute for sailor, in either the merchant fleet or the navy. Finger tips almost touching temples and unlike army salutes, his palm was turned down, towards his shoulder, to hide any tar (or in his case, powder) on the hand.

Humming softly to himself, he stepped away from the knot of other officers, still waiting to greet the captain and moved aboard the ship. His bare feet moved quickly over the hot cobblestones, eager to get below decks, where the soles wouldn't burn with each step. Up the gangplank and over the deck he strolled, moving with a sailor's ease as the Obsidian Star gently rocked, while still moored. As the crew prepared to get underway, the inked Demician ducked below, making his way down to the ship's magazine, missing the captain's speech.

The storage room for the ship's supply of gunpowder, blow the waterline, was well organized by now. The barrels of mixed sulfur, charcoal and saltpeter, were arranged by size and grade, stacked and ready for the ship to sail. Canvas bags hung from pegs, filled with measured amount of the explosive and separated by which one of the different guns they would be used to fire. Most were for the ship's ten twelve-pounders but there were also bags for the two long nines and the four twenty-four pound carronades.

Stopping in his small cabin for his pipe, Edusrt slipped into the magazine and sat himself down at a small table by the door. Pipe clenched between his teeth (but unlit, he might be crazy but he wasn't stupid), he leaned over a sea pattern musket he had been tinkering with for some time. He had cut into the breech of the barrel, making a chamber that he could raise and lower using a screw attached to the trigger guard. All he needed to do now, to make a working weapon, was to get the breech to seal properly. His right eye twitched a little, as the scar by his eye hurt. The last time he had done this, the weapon nearly exploded, the breech spewing fire and burning powder from improper seals.

He was pondering the problem and sucking on the white clay pipe, the bowl of which had been shaped into a wine barrel with a little girl holding onto it, her tiny feet resting in the slightly curved stem, when a voice came to him, Glancing up, he found Captain Fletcher in the room with him, looking down at his project. He smiled widely, as the captain said they were going to get some heavy use from the guns and seemed to get what he was trying to do with the musket, without explanation. The man might be hesitant but at least he was smart. Without a word, he took the offered pistols and listened as his commanding officer went through a list of things he wanted to tell him.

"Aye Captain" said Edusrt, placing the pistols on the table and selecting two heavy keys from a trio sitting near the corner, "The door will be locked when I'm not about and maybe when I am. Heres a key for you and whomever you choose to give it to."

He held the keys up to be taken. The third, still on the table, was attached to a strong braid leather cord, which had a hook on it, so that it could be attached to a belt.

"I'll keep an eyes on John and a pistol loaded" he added, standing up as the keys were taken from his hands, "We have some good guns aboard. Give me a week, once we're from port and I'll have their crews to an acceptable level. Thats the easy part. it will take longer to get the gun-captains to be able to hit anything at range and to be able to judge how to aim with the swells. Might have to take a few days out of our cruise and spend it throwing out empty barrels and then trying to hit them with shot. Get me in range of a pirate vessel though and I'll leave it driftwood for you."

4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Edusrt van der Zaal Character Portrait: Jillian Farglow Character Portrait: Henry Smart Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher
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#, as written by varxint
Gareth nodded to Edurst as he took the key, “Good. I think your plan of testing the crew and getting them up to snuff is a good one. We’ll talk to the cook and keep the barrels around for that. I expect we will soon get an opportunity for training, but not many before it becomes a live target. I have very capable marines though, so close range will be my goal. The carronades will get a lot of use and the local beaches could use more driftwood.”

Gareth turned to leave. He paused at the door, “I know you’re working on that musket. I feel exposed without my guns though. So, if you can, try and work on those as soon as possible.” He nodded at the master gunner and closed the door behind him.

The thought of marines lead him to seek out their quarters. He had some questions to ask of Jillian. Also, being a former marine, he had an affinity for that group. He wanted to address them personally.

He found the marines gathered, inspecting their equipment and setting out their bunks in the most efficient manner possible. Gareth paused at the door and observed. He nodded in approval and called, “Marines! Good to have you aboard. On some ships you might be used to being a passive passenger. Called upon only when threatened. Not on this ship. I know I have the finest set of marines sailing. I plan to put you to good use. Close range is where I like to be and I know the feeling of boarding an enemy ship with fire in your eyes. You will get your opportunity to show your mettle and take down all the pirate scum you could ever want. All I ask is you stay prepared to board at a moments notice.”

With that he entered the room, greeting each marine personally and giving a few encouraging words. He met a young marine named Henry. This man had been military before joining this crew. Gareth nodded, “It is good to have a few old soldiers aboard. I never served officially myself. Always freelance and hired to protect mostly explorer ships. It’s a pleasure to meet you Henry. I’m counting on your experience to guide some of the greener men and women. How you face each battle, each individual contact, will help others going through it for the first time.”

Finally he found Jillian. Gareth took her aside and spoke to her with certainty, “Jill, as you know I asked you aboard. I want to give you a chance to atone for your past misdeeds while on the pirate crew. I believe in second chances when deserved. Maybe more than others. I also see the value that having you aboard will bring. I will not treat you differently from the rest of the crew save for one thing. I will ask what you know of the pirates. I will ask what you remember of your ship and where they hid and where they met their sister ships. I want to know their typical hunting grounds and who they saw as targets. You are my advantage over them. Anything you share with me will give me an upper hand over them. I expect you to share without question. I expect you to want to take down this scum as much as I. This is how you can turn your distasteful past into an heroic end. Try and remember as much as you can and meet me in my quarters in an hour. I want to plan our course with my other officers and you could very well determine our first target.”

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Character Portrait: Henry Smart Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher
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Henry Smart took a deep breath of Garame air, nothing smelled quite like it: salty with a mix of desperation. He was looking for the witch that lived in the slums when he was boy. Normally not one to put stock in tarots or in the witch, he had been feeling uneasy about the journey and was going to find some semblance of peace. Besides she was most likely dead. Spotting a boy selling two day old newspapers, Henry called out: “Kid, I have a silver penny if you can take me to the old fortune teller”.

The child put the newspapers under his arm, adjusted his hat and said "Lord luv a duck! I know 'er an' I can take yew there. Make sure yew keep up cause i don't have the time of day. I need ter make a livin' after all.”

With that they were off, running down the twisting streets of Garame, and up the back alleys that reminded Henry of his childhood. They were making their way deeper into the older part of the slums. Most of the buildings were barely standing and the whole place felt abandoned. The boy led Henry through another an alley that looked strangely familiar, and stopped near what seemed to be a shop.

The shop was abandoned, but beside it was a sign that read “Tarot readings and traditional medicine”. On closer inspection one could see the small stairwell that led beneath the store, and one could even make out a faint light on the other side.

“Here she is, just down them apples and pairs. I’ll take me duff an' go now. I don't like stayin' around 'ere. Nuff said, yeah?”

“Fair enough,” With his money in hand, the kid said a hasty thanks and ran back down the alley, leaving Henry alone outside the old store. Taking a deep breath, he walked down the steps and pushed the door open. An overwhelming smell of incense rolled over him causing him to cough.

“Is that you Victor? No can’t be, your dead. Come here, so I can see you” a harsh squeaky voice called out. Henry stepped in the room, there was a fire burning even though outside it was hot. Beside the fire sat a leathery old looking woman wearing a black shawl. Henry knew though she couldn’t be past forty.

Gritting his teeth he greeted her “Hello Granny Nash”. He hated the old witch. She was sweating heavily and smelled like rotting meat even through the incense.

She narrowed her eyes at him, “And who are you supposed to be? A soldier lost in the slums? No, just one that forgot.”

“It’s Henry”

“The one that’s dead or alive?” she chuckled. “Come to visit dear old Granny in her hole? If you want your fate I hope you remembered the rule.” She touched her nose “knowledge for knowledge.”

Reaching into his coat Henry drew a book and tossed it on to her lap. Picking it up, she stuck her nose in the middle and inhaled deeply. Satisfied, she put down the book and moved away from the fire, to a small table in the center of the room. There she took a seat and motioned Henry to do the same. Taking an ancient looking deck of tarots from the table, she shuffles them and places one down.

“No need to tell granny the question, the cards will know what to show.” The first card was the Chariot, “I sense an external struggle, a struggle that you will face.” The Knight of Swords was drawn next and was placed left of the Chariot. “This card is courageous, strong, skillful, but relies on other cards for a clear message. Honor is the cause of the question.” She then placed the Hangmen right of the Chariot and smiled. “Circumstances will change and a sacrifice will have to be made, maybe in vain.” She then drew the Three of Swords and placed it beneath the Chariot. “My little Lord of Sorrow, the losses you have experienced are not yet over. Your past is not yet done with you, and is the reason you face this journey. But you are afraid to lose another and this has to change.” Drawing Judgement she placed it above the Chariot. The pattern was revealed and the cards made a cross. “Taking the right actions will lead you to be rebirthed and joy. But it’s dangerous to go alone. Seek the Hierophant and the wolf. It is only with their help that you will be reborn and survive. Take this my Jack of Swords.” Handing Henry the Page of Swords, Granny Nash starts to laugh, and chanted.

“On the day my daughter gave birth to another Smart, a second Henry. A shooting star crossed the sky. It left behind a star called Henry. Where were the three wise men? They had missed it. They followed the wrong star. They missed the birth of the one and only Henry Smart. The first child to live and the only one still alive, he was roaming the streets when his mother died. His brothers dead because no book could cure his cough....”

Henry got up and left, her words trailing after him. On the street Henry looked up at the night sky and sought out the star sharing his name. It was shining brightly like a beacon, taunting him. He yelled “MY NAME IS HENRY SMART” at the star and even at the sky that cradled it like a child. He yelled until he could yell no more. On his knees, with his hands touching the dirt, he felt movement. Shutting his eyes he concentrated on the movement beneath him. It was water. He started to feel it in his bones; it was pulling at him, whispering in his ear. So he listened, letting it lead him, through the streets, the alleys, and to the waterway. The waterway was magical, tiny streams flowed gently under bridges and past platforms made of stone. Henry lay on a platform surrounded by water, and was just before the paths that the water took to reach the rest of the city. There he let the water lull him to sleep and make him forget his worries, if just for one night.

The next day Henry could still feel the water rushing far below him, making it hard to concentrate at the task in hand. He was watching the ceremony, trying to push Granny Nash’s words out of his head and consequently was on edge. But no matter how hard he tried he could not stop wondering what she meant by seeking out the Hierophant and the wolf. It was then when Henry spotted a man leaving one of the ships and making his way, almost unnoticed, through the crowd and on to the stage. The man matched the description of Gareth Finch perfectly. The mood on stage grew visibly tenser as Gareth arrived, and even more so after he said a few words that seemed to be directed to the Queen. Henry smiled; the look on her face was priceless. An announcement was made, people cheered and started heading to their respected ships. Henry jumped down into the mass and went to join his fellow marines.

From old to young, navy to mercenary, and green to seasoned. The face of every marine told a different story. People from every walk of life and all with a common enemy: pirates. Henry did not hold a special hatred against pirates or the Hangmen in particular. Having little experience with them, Henry felt detached from the marines and turned to face the ship. It was beautiful to be sure, and as he gazed lingered an urge to learn everything about it grew inside him. Being so enthralled with ship he almost missed the order for everyone to board and set sail.

He had started following the marines below deck, but chose instead to wander the upper deck of the ship. Near the main deck he noticed a large man pulling a smaller woman who looked to be in pain. Drawn to the couple, Henry started moving closer to them. He recognized the man as the sailing master as one of the marines had pointed out. First noticing the bruises that were all over her arms, then the ink stains on her hands that were absent from his, and the scratch marks around the key hole of his pocket watch. From there it was not hard to come to the conclusion that man was a drunk and violent towards his wife. She was most likely the true sailing master and that drunken fraud was using her. He took a deep breath to calm himself and swore to talk to the Captain about dealing with the man. Deep in thought Henry went below deck to the marine’s quarters and started setting up his gear.

So deep in though was Henry that he did not notice Gareth observing them until he called out and gave his speech. So surprised, bothered, and unused to being on a ship Henry barely gave a suitable response to Gareth who had greeted everyone personally. With his wits mostly back Henry sought out the Captain and caught him before he left. Gareth seemed to be just finishing talking to a young red headed marine, all Henry caught of their conversation was “You could very well determine our first target.” Intrigued, but not one to ease drop on higher rank, Henry announces himself.

“Captain” Gareth turned around to face Henry “Corporal Henry Smart, formally of the 13th Light Infantry Division, assigned here by her majesty Lucilla the II and by her right at your disposal.” Henry gave a short military salute and pressed on “I would like to talk to you about one of your crew, more specially your sailing master” Henry's tone and posture was becoming less formal with each word. “He’s a drunken danger to his wife and this crew sir and needs to be dealt with. I volunteer to make sure he doesn’t danger anyone else.” Realizing that he had raised his voice, almost made a demand of a superior officer, and not so subtly offered to kill a crew member, Henry lowered his head in shame. “I apologize for my outburst sir; I just can’t get use to the dam rocking of the ship. I hope this doesn’t reflect poorly on me, I’m usually in better control of myself. Any decision concerning crew and ship are your own.” Henry stops talking and braces himself for Garrets response.

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch"
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#, as written by ElRey
The petite woman muttered something about following orders as she rapped upon the heavy wooden door, visibly eager to roust the drunken cartographer. There was no response, nothing more than the hiss of the waves as the boat rolled upon the midday ocean. He gave her a small nod to encourage what came next, the small girl easily cracking through the latch which had secured the door shut in case of high winds. Making a mental note to deal with it later, perhaps reinforce the mechanism based on what little fight it put up, he followed Kaitsu inside.

It was a sorry sight. Shaafir’s eyes were immediately drawn to the unsteady swaying of the man precariously perched halfway on his small bunk. The crumpled form of his wife huddled by his feet, watching silently. An intense fire burned in her eyes, barely contained behind the stern expression. Their small boatswain wasted no time, heading straight towards the pair of chests which rested not far from the bed itself, insistently relaying her orders to the stumbling drunk.

John stood, his tongue managing to slur out a handful of choice words for the duo, making special note to emphasis the hatred in his voice while referring to the color of Finch’s skin. The drunk took several uneasy steps toward Kaitsu, his finger raised accusingly as he continued to holler his thoughts on the situation. In a single long stride Shaafir placed himself between them, itching for an excuse to put the man down. Though she carried herself with an unwavering confidence, Kaitsu was still quite small and knowing full well he was not opposed to laying into a female, Finch didn’t care to find out what he might do to the boatswain.

Shaafir locked in on the glazed eyes of John, shaking his head. The message was clear. Don’t. With a commanding point of his finger, he dictated where he believed John belonged, in the corner, away from the action. To his credit, despite his intoxication, the fraudulent mapmaker seemed to realize he was getting in over his head. With lips hanging open lazily, he marched himself in the direction of the pointed finger.

With the primary obstacle overcome, Finch set his sights on tending to the fuming woman still nestled by the foot of the bed. Even from several feet away it was clear she wore a new handprint across her face, the stinging pink of her flesh a clear indicator she had been hit with some force not moments before their entrance. Similarly her arm seemed to be held stiffly, as if she was trying to keep it from being jostled, her elbow cocked awkwardly outward. Shaafir frowned, eyes briefly snapping to the drunk in the corner to make sure he knew the trouble he had brought on himself.

Approaching slowly, he knelt to better inspect the injured arm.

“Xele. Niv‘tsun apovi.” He whispered quietly, the careful tone and movements making clear his intentions more than his words. Reaching out to gingerly take the arm in question into his practiced hands.

“Dunn yuu tuch ‘er!” John barked angrily, moving from his given corner. Shaafir was instantly back to his feet, healing hands clenched into tight fists. Finch said nothing, instead staring down the drunken man who took a handful more steps in his direction. Shaafir’s fierce gaze slowed the man, and, as if suddenly realizing the line he was about to cross, John slumped back to his corner.

Returning to kneel he gestured with his fingers to assure the woman he meant her no harm. As her legs fell from their place tucked beneath her chin, Shaafir caught sight of the heavy bruising around her ankle. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting across Shaafir’s face as if trying to read him before allowing him to inspect her arm. Cautiously he pushed up the fabric of her far too large clothing, revealing dozens of dark blotches. Though they were scattered randomly it was quite clear they were a result of the manhandling he had witnessed earlier, the fastened claw of a grip John kept on her at all times. Holding her upper arm in place he smoothly ran his free hand up and down the outstretched arm, his eyes locked on her features to spot where it was the pain was oriented. As he passed over her forearm there was a fleeting wince, nearly gone before it had even began. It was clear the woman was used to having to bury her feelings, a fate worse less enviable than death as Shaafir himself could attest.

“Kah. Vishu.” He gave her a quick flash of his radiant smile, the edge tainted by the wretched scar across his face. No problem, wasn’t nearly as bad as he had originally feared. Trained hands surrounding the area, Finch’s fingers lightly pressed into her flesh to judge the set of the bone. The woman hissed as he made a quick movement of his thumbs, removing all doubt that it was at the very least fractured. “Splint.” Shaafir said doggedly.

A jingling sound behind him stole his attention from the injured arm, revealing Kaitsu holding a small chain. Finch’s head tilted in question as the wheels in his mind began to add two and two together. Almost absentmindedly he peered down at the woman’s foot, the ugly purple and blue stains which marred her ankle. As he did so, the woodworker in him took over from the doctor, gaze falling to the damaged leg of the nearby desk. It seemed as though the wood had been slowly eroded, craggy splinters littered the ground around the worn wood.

Shaafir’s eyebrow arched, pupils staring through the peripheral at the woman by his feet. As she had yet to take her eyes off him, she seemed to notice the slight deviation in his gaze, and gifted him with a small nod as if to confirm his suspicions. Turning back to the much smaller Kaitsu, he took the chain from her child-sized hands, an accusing glare written across his scarred features.

“Captain.” He said casually, head flicking in the direction of the door, indicating it was time to get moving.

Without another word, he turned, holding his hand down to the abused woman on the floor, not keen to leave her alone with John for any amount of time if he could help it. John visibly bristled, but remained silent, pinned into the corner by Shaafir’s menacing stare. A moment passed, his offered hand not taken by the woman, he met her eyes apprehensively peering up at him.

“Splint.” he repeated.

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch"
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Pavati held her arm steady as she tried desperately to keep her balance and move towards the cabin. Something was going on and she wasn't quite sure what it was. The captain had told John she could stay but the look on his face was almost apologetic. He also called him to account for his drunken state and this made her extremely happy. Confined to his quarters did not however as it meant that she too was stuck with him and despite the order to sober up she knew it would be morning before he stopped drinking and was anything close to right again.

They stepped into the cabin and John slammed the door behind him. He shoved her and already off balance, Pavati fell to the floor. She tried to stop the fall with her hands but as she landed her arm gave out. A yelp of pain brought John's gaze to her. “What do you have to complain about? This is your fault...”

Stumbling, he grabbed her leg and yanked her towards the desk. The chain was once again secured to her ankle. Pavati fumed.

“What are you looking at?” John growled. The sound of his open palm on her cheek bounced off the walls of the small cabin. Pavati turned her head back to look at him as he stood and moved away. She swallowed the hate that balled up in her throat, it would do her no good.

He was grumbling to himself, cursing her, the captain and every last member of blasted crew on the ship. A knock on the door made him halt in his pursuit of another bottle. “Who the fuck...” It dawned on his impaired mind. The captain would want his room searched. As quickly as he could he released her from the chain, throwing it haphazardly between the two chests. John grabbed Pavati by her hair and dragged her to sit at his feet by the bed.

Taking a seat, half lulling to the side John glared as his door was forced in. Pavati, pulled her legs up, making herself as small as she could and held her arm against her chest in an attempt to protect it and herself from whatever might happen.

The sight at the door, the small boatswain and the tall, dark skinned carpenter made then both pause. Pavati didn't smile but she wanted to when the woman said she was going to search the cabin and confiscate John's bottles. Instead she stared at them as they moved into the small room. Above her, John barely remained upright on the bed.

The woman began her search and John grew angrier and angrier. Words of hate spilled forth, no longer tempered in his rage. As Kaitsu began pulling his bottles out of the chest, John stood. Swaying slightly he moved towards the boatswain.

Pavati blinked and in that instant the man now stood between John and Kaitsu. Pavati watched him closely. There was so much expressed in his face, he didn't need to speak to make it clear to John that coming at Kaitsu would be a grave mistake. John paused and Pavati wondered if he would challenge the carpenter. Instead, John moved himself into the corner.

Pavati watched as Kaitsu went through both chests. She hoped the woman wouldn't break or damage any of the articles in her chest. Pavati had taken painstaking care to pack it. The woman appeared thorough but not clumsy. Movement drew her attention from the small woman.

Pavati stared as Shaafir knelt in front of her. He reached out for her arm, speaking quietly in a language she did not know and Pavati swallowed slowly. Just as his hands got close to her, John spoke up from the corner. Even Pavati stopped breathing at the look that was shot in his direction. There was a quiet strength to man in front of her. The anger in his eyes died as he turned to look at her again. A gentleness and compassion now lay in the face that look at her. It was not an expression she was used to seeing.

Shaafir reached for her arm again and Pavati lowered her legs to allow him access to the damaged limb. The movement caused her pant leg to ride up and Pavati immediately looked up at Shaafir. She wondered if he would say anything, she would suffer if he did. He said nothing but did take the pause at the bruises there and on her arm. Pavati noticed the gentle and practiced way he held her arm, the way the fingers moved along the skin and gently prodded for the place that hurt. Pavati gritted her teeth and kept her eyes on his face. She wanted to tell him where it hurt, he was obviously there to help her but help always came at a price.

Shaafir gave her a quick smile, a gesture that made Pavati pause. White teeth flashed on the back drop of his dark skin and even with the edge of it altered by his scar the action was disarming. Fingers pressed and found the broken bone. Pavati hissed through clenched teeth and her eyes shut for a moment.

The rattle of the chain, her chain made Pavati's eyes flash open. The woman in her searching had found it, not that John had done a good job of hiding it. She could see Shaafir's mind working out the implications in his head. He looked down at her ankle and then he looked to the desk. Pavati knew that he had figured it out. Her eyes followed all of his movements and when he glanced sideways at her, Pavati knew he was waiting for confirmation. There was no sense in hiding it.

A small, subtle nod was all she could give him. Enough for him to notice but not enough for John to be able to use against her.

Pavati jumped slightly as Shaafir took the chain and stated they were going to the captain. Her head turned quickly to look at John. He was quiet but clearly unhappy. The dark hand in front of her, held out to help her up confused her. Pavati looked up to the owner of the hand. She wasn't sure if she should dare take it. For the second time it was stated that she needed a splint.

Her mind was at war. Part of her want to stay, not to make it worse for anyone. The other part of her, the part that was in pain, the part that wanted to be away from John told her to take the hand, stand and leave the room. Her gaze flickered to the small woman and then to John.

Pavati reached out with her good hand and took the calloused hand of the carpenter. She used his strength to help her to stand. Pavati wavered on her feet and looked up at Shaafir apologetically. She was not like them, steady on the rocking of the ship. Her grip on his hand tightened as she struggled not to fall into him.

John, seeing her take the dark man's hand and stand, bolted out of his corner. “Mine! It doesn't leave this cabin!” He was spitting in his rage as he came forward at them.

Instinctively, Pavati flinched and unthinking shielded herself against Shaafir. She waited for the hand that would grab her and yank her away.

4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jillian Farglow Character Portrait: Henry Smart Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher Character Portrait: Olivia Mastrontoni
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Gareth turned from Jillian and found Henry waiting to talk to him again. Gareth nodded at the more formal introduction and was about to comment on an infantryman coming aboard a ship when Henry started on about John. Gareth raised an eyebrow, a wry grin on his face as the man became more animated about his opinion of John.

When Henry realized his outburst and apologized, Gareth nodded, “I understand. I appreciate your concern for the safety of this crew, but the discipline of officers falls under the captain’s responsibilities. I would look a weak captain if I asked my marines to take care of my job now wouldn’t I?”

Gareth gave an understanding nod, “It is rare to see an infantryman make the transition to marine. You will adjust to the movements soon enough. Especially once you start running drills and learning what it means to fight on a ship. How you respond there will reflect more on you than this expression of concern for your compatriots. Just, have faith in my judgement and my discipline. I know we just started to sail, but I think you’ll find I am quite capable of keeping my officers in line. I have the situation with John under control. It will become apparent soon whether or not he is capable of performing his duties.”

With that he gave a proper naval salute and allowed Henry to get back to setting his bunk.

Gareth emerged back on deck, the shining sun and good tail wind encouraging signs. Good omens for the commencement of their mission. He paused, breathing in the salt air. The smell of the sea now reminding him of how much he missed being on a ship. The past, not forgotten, but less and less clouding his present enjoyment. He observed the movement of the men and women of his crew as they did all the little things necessary to keep a ship underway in favourable conditions. He thought they would clear Garame’s waters by the evening and so would need a course charted for the morning.

He looked port side and saw the Jade Moon running slightly ahead of them. He chuckled, “Leave it to Olivia to find the best way to use this wind.” The thought of Olivia made him smile again. Once a course was charted they would have to meet and compare notes. The final course had to be agreed on by both captains. No sense sending two ships out together if they were just going to wander off. That’s why the other 5 pairs of ships were sent in different directions. Keep two together to give them greater numbers when trying to pick off the pirates. They tended to raid in singles since it was faster and easier to come upon a ship unawares. Gareth looked forward to the opportunity to see Olivia again.

He headed to his quarters to prepare. He would have the officers meet before sunset. Soon everyone will see the so called sailing master in action. Gareth thought that before the night was out the situation would come to a head, one way or another.

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch"
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“Mine! It doesn't leave this cabin!” That made her angrier than she had been in a long time, and and angry Kaitsu in and of itself was a rare thing to behold. However, this man, it seemed, had a great talent for angering people. And, for the first time in many years, Kaitsu was angry.

"Mine, you say?" Each word was accentuated by a menacing step towards the drunkard. "Doesn't leave the cabin, you say? Who are you to command me, sir?" It was spat out like sour wine from Kaitsu's mouth, the mocking pleasantry. She had little to no tolerance for this man anymore. Setting bottles down as she advanced, Kaitsu subtly placed four knives in each hand, not showing them quite yet for maximum effect.

"You, sir, have been placed under my command, and do you, sir understand what a bo'sun's job is, aboard a ship?" An eerie smile grew slowly on her lips and her teeth glinted black and sharp under the dim light in the cabin, and in that moment, she looked as big and terrible as any other being. "Well, I'll tell you anyway. My job aboard this ship, is to keep it moving efficiently, without any problems, and problems are defined by myself as anything that ruins such an efficiency. You, sir, are one of those problems. And, would you like to know the other job of a boatswain? The other job that has been so granted to my, by the power of the Captain and the Queen who funds this ship, is punishment of unruly crewmembers who disobey the laws of the ship as set down by Captain or Queen."

She flicked her wrists in an exaggerated movement and the four knives in each hand appeared seemingly out of nowhere and held between her fingers as if a mockery of glinting claws. She was angry enough that it disrupted her logical mind, though it was still efficient as it was used to put on a bit of a show.

"Now, sir, do you think that you can question mine or my Captain's authority on this ship to take a passenger," this grated on her tongue as the woman was obviously more capable, "where we so please?" Her voice had taken a sudden turn from promised-threat to sickeningly-sweet, and that was most definitely the scarier of the two. Kaitsu patted his cheek lightly with her knives and they were so sharp that three small lines of flowing red appeared on his cheek and one on the side of his neck, just where a killing blow to the jugular would be.

3 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch"
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#, as written by ElRey
Relief washed over Shaafir as the woman finally accepted his hand, his solid frame easing her to her feet with little effort. It took a strong soul to turn your back on that which frightened you, held you prisoner. Briefly the Elgoysian envisioned himself years ago, staring out the ragged hole in The Skyward Star, the splattered remains of Heldreg stretched out behind him. It had taken him nearly a full minute to leap from the ship to his salvation, his mind conjuring images of the angry wrath of his vicious captor following him, even in death. Shaafir saw so much of himself in her as she stood beside him. There was a slight gloss to her eyes, as if fighting back tears, not out of frustration or fear, but that of apology. Almost as if embarrassed by her own status as a victim. She wobbled uneasily, hand clamping down around his own.

John’s reaction wasn’t at all unexpected. In a single fluid movement a sinewy arm wrapped itself around the native woman’s waist as Shaafir lifted her against him and turning his body like a shield, keeping his vision faced towards the fuming fraud. In truth Shaafir had half heartedly hoped another man, let alone an Elgoysian, touching his wife in any capacity would send John over the edge. The tension in the air had been palpable the entire day, John doing nothing but make enemies upon first arrival of the docks, Shaafir had simply discovered the means to provoke it sooner than the others. It would be another notch against John’s continuance as their “esteemed” map maker.

Kaitsu’s reaction however, caught Finch off guard, the tiny boatswain oozed with a malice which seemed to chill the air around her. Perhaps hearing the woman referred to as property had marked the end of her fuse, for now she seemed an entirely different creature. Predatory and menacing, there was the tinkle of metal as the candlelight caught on the blades of her hidden knives. He gave Pavati a brief once over to make sure she was able to hold her own footing before turning attention back to Kaitsu.

Pinned to the corner with a look of sheer horror upon his face, John seemed to be fighting the tremors which wracked his alcohol dulled body. Though Shaafir doubted Kaitsu would lose complete control of herself, he didn’t wish to give the idiot any leverage when it came to telling his side of the story.

A firm calloused hand gripped Kaitsu’s shoulder, turning the woman to face him.

“Unworthy,” His face was stern as he referenced the cowering drunk in the corner, his tone even, displaying a keen understanding of the situation. They had to do this right way. If Gareth’s tactics failed, more blatant actions were sure to follow.

“Captain.” he stated flatly.

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Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch"
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The hand never came. Instead as John's voice yelled that she was his an arm wrapped about her waist and held her steady and away from the commotion. Pavati looked up from where she had hid against Shaafir to find the carpenter was using his body to shield her. The man was looking at John and Pavati was relieved. He wouldn't see the confusion in her face. He had to no reason to protect her like he was and yet he had still done it.

Pavati heard the small woman's voice as she approached John. It reminded her of the venom from a snake, dripping and alarming.

For his part, John began to come at the man who held his wife but stopped dead as the small woman move towards him. He backed away from her, fear taking over where the anger had been. Horrified he watched the woman come at him. Then a flash of something in her hand and his fear increased.

Pavati watched as the boatswain approached John, she could see the blades in her hand. Her eyes met Shaafir's and Pavati tried to steady herself. He stepped away and towards the small woman. He got to her as she had finished patting John's cheek.

John didn't flinch, the blades were too sharp for him to feel them as they left small lines on his cheek and neck. He blinked, trembling slightly and then the slight sting set in. She had cut him. Blood slowly ran from the cuts. John's eyes went even wider as the dark skinned man came up behind the blade wielding woman. John shook now, pinned like a common rat in the corner.

He jumped as the man's voice called him unworthy. He wanted to lunge at the man, he had put his hands on his wife and was trying to take her, now he insulted him but his fear held him back. Even with all the rum in him he wasn't stupid enough to attack them both.

Pavati backed up against the wall as she watched the pair in front of John. Her feet wouldn't move, all she could do was stand there and try not to fall. She held her arm steady against her body. Pavati kept her breathing steady, not wishing to draw any attention to herself or make things worse.

It was stated again, they were going to the captain and Pavati waited to see what would happen. She was willing to go with them and from the look on John's face she didn't think he would be trying to stop them this time. Pavati could see the lines of blood on John's face and she wondered what the woman would have done if she had not been stopped.

John swallowed. He narrowed his blood shot eyes at them, a sneer in his voice, “Take it, fix it up and bring it back. The captain already said I got to keep it so there is nothing you can do about it.” It was mock bravado in attempt to hide the terror that was eating away at him now.

Pavati waited to see what would happen.

4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch" Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher
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"Yes, I know. I dislike dirtying my blades with scum..." Kaitsu said, back to her usual bored tone and strictly efficient manner.

"Come, we go to the captain to report." She gathered up the bottles of alcohol and threw the chain over her shoulders with a faint hint of that malicious grin still lingering, otherwise no one would never know what had transpired in that cabin. The door to the cabin hadn't been shut properly, the locks had been broken after all, and so the small Kaitsu Hoin deceptively delicately nudged the door open with her hip and nearly sauntered across the ship, her mood improving with each step as she thought of all the wonderful military-issue punishments (and then some that were rather... questionable in origin and nature) that might possibly befall to her to dole out on such a horrid bottom dweller of a scum of a man.

Her smooth, quick steps made her seem almost like she was gliding across the wooden surface and if not for the calculated effort put into each and every movement and non-movement, one might almost comment that there seemed to be a slight skip in her step. Not that Kaitsu would ever let such a thing happen.

Stopping in front of the Captain's quarters she cleared her throat in a quite deliberate manner, just loud enough to be heard through the wood and across the room inside, and lightly tapped the door with her foot, having no hands available to do so in a more traditionally dignified way.

"Captain Fletcher-taisho," True she needn't add her native honorific as it meant the same thing as the title of 'captain,' but it made her feel significantly less awkward, less like she was calling him too familiarly. That would be rather disrespectful and dishonorable and it would rather be a bother if she was forced to apologize through the ceremonial means of becoming a hitokiri-jin... No matter how she looked at it, it was better this way.

"We have the woman and I have confiscated all alcohol from that chikuso temeyarou. There was also a chain. Well used..." She would leave it at that. It would fall to the carpenter/surgeon to explain the rest with the woman. She had more important things to do. Like plot the death of certain people and run a ship... Besides, she really didn't want to get mad again, it was bad enough in front of witnesses left alive, let alone in front of the captain.

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Character Portrait: Edusrt van der Zaal
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Edusrt grinned like a wolf, who had found a fawn trapped in deep snow, as the captain stated that the beaches could always use more driftwood. It was like he could already taste the acrid smoke, with it's faint hint of rotten eggs and hot metal. The only thing that could make the lean gunner, close to the level of joy he got from firing the ship's guns, was the promise he could fire them. A slight tremor ran down his spine, the last few cruises he had made with the Zeehaen, they hadn't run across any pirates or rowdy natives trying to attack Company holdings. He hadn't gotten to do more then mindlessly shift powder barrels and clean rust from the guns. He wanted....no needed some action, like a drunkard needed a pint of rum.

"Of course Captain" said the Demician, he could understand perfectly the man's need to have his pistols back. He would have felt naked without his own pair and if they caught up with some scum before they were long in their patrol, it would be terrible to go into battle without one's personal weapons. The familiar feeling of the grip, the comforting weight of the weapon, the mere presence could mean the difference between a seasoned professional and a clumsily, fumbling recruit.

For a time, he simply studied the pair of pistols. Well maintained, they bore the mark of a respected if not overly well known Wifieldish gunsmith. The screws were tight, the flints new, barrels clean, touch holes clear and springs in good condition. All in all, a fine pair of pistols and so his thoughts turned on how he might improve them. It was clear that they did not in fact, have the room to use the loading screw he was trying to perfect (nor would he have used it on anyone else's weapon until it was finished).

This was a challenge the gunner needed to consider carefully. Had he gone out and bought some pistols, just to tinker with, he would have just dived in with whatever idea came to mind but they weren't his pistols. They belonged to his new captain, who had a very persona attachment to them, he could tell. So he couldn't afford to make mistakes on any improvements. His teeth clamped down on the pipe stem and he sucked on it a bit. A few ideas tickled his mind, including one to cut the barrels and attached a hinge for quicker loading but he ignored them.

"A smoke" mused Edusrt, knowing some of his best work was thought up in a haze of pipe smoke, "And a nip."

Smiling, the shaven headed Demician stood up, gabbed his key and pulled the door open. Closing it behind him, he thrust the key into the lock and nodded as the tumbler clicked. Attaching the key to his belt, he walked up the passage way and ducked into his small cabin. Opening his sea chest, he pulled out a leather pouch of fine, nutty tobacco and a thin silver flask, filled with a blackberry brandy from his homeland. Slipping the flask into his belt, he packed the bowl of his pipe and headed up towards the top deck.

5 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Edusrt van der Zaal Character Portrait: Pavati Character Portrait: Kaitsu Hoin Character Portrait: Shaafir Malik "Finch" Character Portrait: Gareth Fletcher
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The room was thick with tension. Shaafir’s comment hung in the air. Pavati watched as Kaitsu moved away from John and lowered her blades. The small woman stated that they were leaving and heading to the captain.

John wiped sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his shirt once the tiny, threatening woman stepped away. He began to restate his position but his voice died away when it became clear that they were ignoring him.

Pavati realized suddenly that they were serious. The pair was in fact going to take John’s alcohol and her out of the room and to the captain. Part of her assumed it was a ploy to scare John into sobering up but now it sunk in that they were leaving the room, without John. Pavati tried desperately to control her breathing, panic creeping up her spine. She hadn’t been out of John’s sights since he had taken her from her family.

Her eyes caught the look on John’s face. There was anger in his eyes, the likes of which Pavati had never seen before. She was sure if he could get his hands on her that more than just her arm would suffer. He clearly hated the two people in the room but there was no way he could come at them. Pavati felt sure that when she returned to him he would kill her. Her eyes closed briefly. She raised her chin and opened her eyes again. So be it.

Kaitsu passed by her and nudged the door open. Pavati wobbled slightly on her feet and waited for Shaafir. She knew there was no way she could follow without falling. Once the dark skinned man was close enough to her again, Pavati lightly steadied herself on his arm. She gave him another apologetic look.

“I am not used to a rocking floor...” Her voice was a quiet whisper to Shaafir.

Her eyes were cast down as they exited the room. Pavati kept waiting for John to rush forward and pull her back into the room. By the time the trio reached the captain’s door Pavati was doing her best to control her panic again. "What will the captain expect of me?" She looked at Shaafir, her internal question clear on her features as Kaitsu knocked.

Pavati’s eyes snapped to the doorway as Kaitsu began to explain what they found. Uncertainty washed over her and she felt slightly ill. Her grip on Shaafir tightened briefly before she realized what she was doing and let go. She hated feeling like a trapped animal, hated it almost as much as she hated John.

***

John watched the dark man take Pavati out of the room and he was seething even more. Standing, he threw the first thing his hand landed on at the door. The small metal instrument, for measuring distances on a map, fell to the floor. His drunken state made the throw weak and wild.

He stumbled about the small cabin, grumbling angrily to himself. They had taken all his bottles. The small bitch had taken them all, likely dumping them over the side at this very moment. Or worse, she, the captain and the man were drinking it. Maybe they were mocking him or letting Pavati drink. “How dare they....”

John’s mind went through all sorts of scenarios of what was happening in Gareth’s cabin. He needed a drink. Badly. Tripping over the blanket he made his way to the chests. Somehow the blanket had ended up on the floor. Likely the wench with the blades pulled it off as she searched his room, trying to make him look like a slob. John tossed the chests open. Gone, every bottle was gone. A loud angry growl erupted from him.

His eyes went to the wall. John smiled. He was a sneaky bugger, at least in his own mind. He moved to the wall and pulled at the loose board. He had stashed one bottle here, just in case. He was glad the boatswain was a woman, only a woman would miss that sort of detail. “Stupid, stupid bitch...no contest for this man.” He mocked the woman who only minutes before had almost made him wet himself.

Taking his last bottle, John sat on the bed. He popped the cork and began to drink. His mind wandered back to what the captain or the dark skinned man might be doing with Pavati. The mocking drunk became an angry one.

John swayed and looked at his bottle. Empty. He was confused. It couldn’t possibly be empty already. Hadn’t he just opened it?

“You...bring me another...” John looked around the room for Pavati. Then he remembered. No woman and no more booze. The bottle clunked to the floor and John wiped his mouth. They took them, took it all.

He sat on the bed, falling heavily on his side and drifted in and out of consciousness. In a small moment of clarity he remembered the officers were to meet in Gareth’s cabin. There was no way he could function without a drink; he knew he would need a small nip just to get him through all the talking. Something to take the edge off the headache it would give him. Hell, he was getting one just thinking about it. Sitting up, he rubbed his head and pondered his problem.

Someone on this wretched boat had to have a drink. John pushed himself unsteadily up and off of the bed. He made his way to the door and out onto the deck.
Most were going about their business, crew not worthy enough to talk to an officer like him. John spotted the bareheaded man....the gunner...at least that is what he thought he was. How was he supposed to keep them all straight?

Rocking on his feet, John watched him. He had a pipe between his teeth and a flask in his hand. “Oh merciful god, there is hope for good men in this world.” John decided that Zaal being on deck with his flask was a message from heaven, just for John.

He approached the Demician. “Nice water tonight....should be...be smooth sailing.” John offered Zaal a smile. “Didn’t get your name earlier friend. Too busy with my clumsy assistant. Good help and all that...” John was rambling and leaned on the rail to steady himself.

“Went and broke an arm...that bad. I sent it off to be fixed up. Only right you know? “ His tone made him sound as if he was a very caring and sympathetic man. It had been his idea that they take her and fix that arm after all.

John raised an eyebrow at Zaal, “Not a talkative man...I like it....care to share a sip of that with a friend and fellow officer?” John hadn’t in reality let Zaal say anything yet as the words just kept streaming from him. He reached a hand out towards Zaal, clearly expecting the man to share his flask.