Galleon of the Black Mast [COMPLETED RP]

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Anabel was covered in blood by now and she wasn't surewhich direction was towards the beach or towards the ship. Swaying from side toside she looked up at the man that approached her with a very large gun. Sheeyes looked at it closely trying to focus on the weapon and the man's features.Raising her hand back up to her head she steadied herself slowly before lookingback towards her crew. What was he asking her? Was he asking for passage on theCutlass? Looking up at him Anabel was clearly confused for a moment before the screechingof another demon zigzagged through her mind bringing her back to coherentthought. "Well uh that's not really my decision. Ye have ta talk ta tha capt'nbut since we're kinda between'a rock an'a hard place, sure." She knew her wordsprobably didn't sound coherent enough but she made sure the last word came outclear enough for the man understand. Deciding that standing still in water mostlikely filled with sharks while covered in blood was most likely not the smartestthing to do she began to drag herself through the water towards her crewmates.Stumbling along she groaned and bent over holding her head with both hands as aloud noise filled the air. <o:p></o:p>

"What tha bloody hell!" Anabel muttered to herselfbefore noticing the demons pausing and looking towards a certain area of theisland. She really hoped it wasn't their damn daddy or something awakening.Trudging through the water again Anabel forced herself to walk towards hercrewmates again. She was determined to make it to the Cutlass but she wouldn't retreatunless the others did as well. She wouldn't be known as a coward; even in herbattered state. Noticing a demon begin to move toward Scar's back Anabel pulledthe blade from her belt and threw it at the back of its head. The blade stuckinto its skull stunning it enough to force it to the ground. She looked aroundnoticing that Armand wasn't with them. Anabel became frantic with fear hopingthat he was okay. But she continued to struggle through the water towards theothers until she was close to them and began to creep back towards the edge ofthe water hoping that she could somehow help before a stab of a pain wentthrough her side. Groaning she bent over grabbing her side and putting pressureon her wound; oh goddess she hoped she didn't die like this. <o:p></o:p>
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

The path wasn't long and Amilio made it outside without incident. The sun was blinding at first but after he got used to the light he could see where the horizon met the ocean, big fluffy clouds in the sky, beautiful white sand, and a man with his back facing Amilio staring out at it all. His coat was like Amilio's, except it was black where his was red. His hair was long and curly, it could be seen coming out from underneath his hat down his neck. Slowly the man turned around and faced his son with wonder and confusion in his eyes. Amilio walked to his father, a knot in his throat. His father rushed to him and they embraced, Amilio could not help the tears on his face.

Augusto Dias gently broke the embrace and held his son at arms length to look at him. "How can this be?" his father asked him, confused at first and then suddenly his face went still "My son, have you died?" Amilio smiled and wiped the tears from his eyes "No, I made a trade for your life" he said carefully. His father's face became stern "What do you mean? You should not be making such deals!" Amilio stuck out his chin and looked at his father in the eyes "I traded my skills with blades for your life, father. It's worth it." Augusto looked stern again and was going to scold his son further on the subject but they were interrupted by an inhumanly loud scream that made him feel as if his organs were shivering. It wrenched Amilio's mind back to the treasure and the Cutlass and the crew. And the creatures he had fought in the crypt. "We will talk of this later, come with me now." Amilio ran along the shore around a growth of jungle foliage and started hearing the sounds of combat.

He swore at the sight he saw, demons, blood, his crewmates. One of the demons spotted him and charged. Instinctively Amilio reached for his swords, but of course they were not there. He reached around and grabbed a throwing knife from the back of his belt. As his arm swung forward to throw the knife it felt wrong, not right, as if something was missing. The knife hit the demon's head with the flat side of the blade. Amilio had time to start regretting losing his swords and his skill as the demon closed the distance between them. Until his father leaped forward, an elegant blade flashing in the sun followed by gushing blood that darkened the sand. The demon fell to the ground, wailing until the life bled out of it. Amilio's idol was back.

They ran across the beach, his father cutting down demons while Amilio occasionally scored a deadly hit with his throwing knives. Amilio spotted the majority of a crew and a stranger in armor shooting down demons who would not come into the water after him. Getting his father's attention they ran along the shore closer to the water. As they met up with the crew Amilio noticed Anabel bleeding pretty good in the water. He waded over to her and with a brief "Hola" he scooped her up carefully and waded to one of the boats and carefully set her down in it, giving her his coat to use as a pillow, or to staunch the bleeding. He patted her head and said "Stay here" with a look that said she better listen if she knew what was good for her and waded back to the crew, specifically the captain. "Captain, did Eben and Armand come?"
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast


Though there had been words about the missing crew members on the captain's lips, he clearly hadn't known quite what to say and before he could come up with the right words, Amilio was behind them with one of the girls scooped up in his arms. Disregarding all else at the moment, it eased Tradewin'd mind to know that Amilio had escaped safely from the demons. That was essentially everyone so far, with the exception of Eben, that she had met in any depth and really cared a whit about and they'd all gotten to safety.

As soon as Amilio had set the blond in one of the boats, Tradewind leapt toward him with enough force to knock him back a couple of paces and hugged him fiercely, a frown set on her features. Pulling away, Tradewind shuffled awkwardly back toward the safety of Scar, whose presence was supportive at least.

"I've not seen Eben and I don't recall havin' seen the other, either." Trying not to look sulky, Tradewind tugged at Scar, indicating that most of the crew were by now back at the ship. If she'd had more guts, she would have grabbed at 9Lives, since he was the captain, but she hardly knew him and he struck an imposing image to her since she was determined to make a good impression with him.

"We ought to get back toward the ship--"

Before she could pull any further though, a shriek echoed through the trees and more of the hordes came rushing out. There was no way that they'd be able to sail with these demons, particularly if they were beating at the edges of the boat as they seemed to be inclined to do.
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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Anabel was beginning to lean to the side as her vision became blurry again. Her head felt like someone had filled it with cotton candy and taken her brain away as her legs felt like wobbly beneath her. Unwrapping her arms from around her waist she reached out to grasp at the water but began to fall forward until she felt someone's arm grip her and her feet left the ground. Nausea rolled through her stomach as bile threatened to rise in her throat from the sudden movement. She heard the 'Hola' from a fellow crewmate. Tilting her head to look up at who held her, she recognized Amilio's face and smiled faintly up at him. She felt cold even though they were in tropics; goose bumps began to appear along her skin as a slight shiver raced through her body.

Feeling him place her down into a boat and hand her his coat she nodded a thanks but regretted it immediately as the world tilted again. It felt worse than being drunk; Anabel swallowed trying to speak up to him. "Thank ye. I'll…" She ran out of strength to speak anymore before deciding to attempt to stop the steady flow of blood from her side. Moving carefully and slowly Anabel managed to tie the coat tightly around her waist. Though it hurt a bit she knew that the pressure was what the wound needed. She only hoped it wouldn't become infected. Realizing who had picked her up and sat her within the boat she tried to sit up to look at him again. "Armand?" She whispered beneath her breath glancing around; where were Armand and Eben? She swallowed fighting the fear that threatened to grip her; they couldn't be dead, could they? She decided to get up but as she tried to pull herself up her arms shook and she collapsed back into the boat. Groaning to herself she felt like a dead weight to the crew without being able to help them. Glancing around, she noticed a few supplies that she could work with. Grabbing them she set to work making a homemade bomb while the crew fought the flow of demons. As she finished finally and was proud of herself for messy, yet productive handiwork; sitting up slowly she held it back and lit the piece of cloth stuffed into the neck of the bottle before throwing it high into the air towards the trees that the demons were coming from. "Heads up!" She called out as loud as possible, as the bottle came into contact with many of the demons Anabel sagged back against the side of the boat all of her energy gone now. She only hoped no one would mind her using a bottle of rum to start a fire.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Everything was happening in slow motion, as if time had been semi frozen. Tabitha could only stare as the woman transformed into the demon and started lunge toward her, claws ready to slice through her skin and consume her, if not kill her. She was brought back to real time quickly though as the sound of gun fire hit her ears and the creature fell to the ground limply, stunned by the hit it took to the head. Tabitha looked down in surprise until Deadeye's voice filled her ears, causing her to look up at him. Her eyes were wide as everything started click into place, her leg slowly gaining the ability to move once again...though they weren't moving fast enough for Deadeye.

She let out a small gasp as he picked her up into his arms, running across the beach and toward the long boats to reach the ship, making her blush a bit with embarrassment. At this point Tabitha was ashamed, she had not only frozen up when someone attacked her but she had to be saved as well, like the princess she truely was. She wanted to appear strong to these people, like she could do anything just like them. Now, she only looked like a weak little girl. When they reached the long boats she slipped from Deadeye's arms quietly, leaving him to hop into the long boats since she was no help on the sand fighting the demons.

She looked from the land to the boat worriedly as she noticed that they were taking their time leaving, wondering why they hadn't just run off to the boat for safety...
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

While Deadeye had been running back to the longboats dodging not only the demons and gunfire but even a handmade grenade, he had gained many cuts and was bleeding slightly since he was relatively unable to defend himself while carrying the frightened girl. He didn't really mind since he knew the mission would have been dangerous anyways and he would rather have a few wounds then a dead crewmate. As Deadeye made it back to the long boats Tabitha had gotten out of his arms with a look of disapointment. He figured that it was due to her lack of being able to fend off the single demon and he knew how she felt somewhat so he leaned in close to her and whispered into her ear.

"Tabitha don't worry about freezing up. It's easy to fight someone in practice but when it comes down to killing a person it isn't easy ta get past yer conscious. It may take a while but i'm sure ye'll be able to do it. This was your first real experience and a bad one at that. Just use it ta motivate yerself."

Once he was done talking to her he turned around and went to fight on the frontlines, he figured that Tabitha would be able to take care of Anabel who was seeming to have trouble in one of the longboats. When he got back to the shore he noticed that the demons were not pursuing them past the water to a certain point. Deadeye used this to his advantage when he pulled out his sword and began to fend off the demons while staying outside of their own attack range while to anyone else it would look like he was fighting a brick wall rather than a bunch of possessed demonic villagers.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Crew mates were beginning to show up now.The demons were mostly busy, at this point, murdering the unfortunate crew members who were alone. Many good men would be lost in this battle, it was tragic, but tis the way of the world. It was good to know that we would likely still have enough manpower to at least run a ship.

Following a loud roar, which Links dismissed as just another demon, a man carrying an injured woman showed up. He must have been a reputable crew member because he was well received by the group.. and he didn't leave his comrades behind. Links admired that.

Tradewind beckoned for the group to return to the ship, and Links couldn't agree more. As if on cue, Tradewind made her statement and the demons answered with a petrifying screech from the forest. Links replied quickly, "She's right! We ought'a get back ta tha ship." Links wasn't ready to die, and he didn't want any more injuries or deaths than the crew already had.

A whimpered "Heads up" was spoken, but not heard by Links. Then suddenly, fire. "Bloody hell!" Links yelled as the initial burst of flame roared, consuming the treeline and burning many demons. Links instinctively looked away from the explosion and held his arms out as if he was trying to defend someone behind him, but there wasn't anyone there. He looked over at the crew that had joined them. There was a sizable force of pirates now, but fighting wouldn't give the crew much gain. The weight of loss would tip the scales in its favor.

Not even ten seconds after the blast, flaming and charred demons came barreling towards the group. Some had been burned to death, these few obviously still had a little bit of power left. If there was only one thing in this world that Links was not afraid of, it was fire. He had been around roaring forges and red hot steel his entire life.

Links stepped out in front of the group, determined to protect them. He would accept any assistance, but he didn't expect it. If he expected assistance and it didn't come, he would be at a disadvantage. So Links thought on his toes. There were three demons, two were on fire, meaning that they were going to die soon anyways. One was barely scathed, smoking in a few small places on his body where he had been burnt, but it was nothing fatal. He would be the more difficult one to dispatch. The two demon's encased in fire ran wildly, as one would if on fire. They would barely be able to fight, Links looked at them first, taking special care to watch his back in case the able bodied demon decided to attack.

Links busted out in a sprint towards the demons. They were roughly fifteen yards away from the group and closing the distance quickly. It would be a shame if one of the demons managed to get his hands on the long boat and burn it up. Links would stop him before that happened.

Contact

Links slammed his shoulder into one of the flaming demons, causing some of the burning rum to rub off onto Links' coat. The demon staggered and fell to the ground from the force of both bodies running at max speed. Links slipped his coat off with ease in a swift, fluid motion, and threw it onto the other burning demon's face. Taking advantage of the demon's blindness, Links lunged at him, piercing his chest three time with his dagger before the demon succumbed to the flames and stab wounds, falling dead to the ground. The other flaming demon was writhing around on the ground, unable to get up because of the flames. This little scrap took place over about seven seconds.

Screeeeeee!

A claw dug into Links' forearm. Blast! I let me guard down! Links jumped backward, towards the crew. His right arm now bled freely from three claw marks that stretched from his elbow joint to about three inches above his wrist. The dagger was still in his hand, adrenaline keeping his pain at bay. Before engaging this demon, he looked over his shoulders quickly to see if anyone wanted to help. Now that Links was closer, this demon seemed a bit larger than the rest of the demons. It's drooling jowls were read for a meal, and Links appeared to be the main course. Links could only hope that he would receive some sort of aid from the crew, he didn't want to move this beast towards them though, so retreat was not an option at this point.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Within minutes, the white sand paradise turned into a carnage ridden battle field. Men lay dying all around. Some in pools of their own blood, others cut in ways that left their bodies deformed and twisting in almost impossible acts of contortion. Some Demons fell, but, they had an inexhaustible force lurking just beneath the earth. Above the whole scene, the death cloud lurked menacingly in the sky; an omen of not only the death that lived within Kaymein, but also of the killing that was taking place. Many of the members of the cutlass crew, mostly the riggers and cabin boys, were unarmed. They fell quickly to the Demonic hordes, slaughtered and left to die far away from home.
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9Lives had snapped from his petrified state of amazement all at once, the thick blade of his cutlass finding a resting spot in the chest cavity of an enemy. Bone splintered away from the demons chest, sending it to the ground. He had no time to talk as the demons swarmed in from all directions.

If it wasn't for the few that 9Lives considered the 'Core of the Crew' and deemed worthy enough to trust with his true intentions this day, they might have all been dead. Instead, they fought with a viciousness and dedication that would bring a smile to the old captains face in the months to come. At this moment he was proud to have such a honorable crew.

9lives also observed someone else, a sainted warrior no doubt, judging from his weapons and apparel. The man was plowing through the demon hordes that blocked the water. 9Lives didn't question things that worked so perfectly in his favor, instead he jumped to the nearest longboat, and nodded at the holy warrior as if saying 'your welcome to join us, unless you wanna stay here'.

As the Captain, and the highest ranking of his crew, made their way across the stretch of water between the beach and the cutlass, a fiery explosion erupted on the island, 9Lives saw that it had come from the Long boat with Anabel, and would have laughed on the verge of escape, but something else caught his eye: Among the Demons, that stood at the waters edge, writhing with hatred, was a skeletal bird. It looked stripped and barren, worn and pure evil. It drifted from the sky to the earth with something in its clutches. 9Lives watched for a moment longer, before resigning to temporary relief. He knew that they would have all been dead if it weren't for the nameless members of the crew that acted as a meat shield, giving time for the rest to escape.

Once again the crew of the cutlass had escaped, but this time they had suffered terrible casualties, over half the crew was dead.
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View attachment 5594Eben caught the Hourglass just at the entrance of the cave. He lost track of Armand and Amilio just after that.

The only thing in the world that Eben wanted was to be done with this place. At that moment, Eben lost all will to do anything but get back to the long boat. He would make it back to the Cutlass at any cost, he had the Hourglass and now intended to deliver it to 9Lives himself.

Once out of the cave, he sprinted across the shore. A quick glance to his right told him that all hell had indeed broken loose. There were hordes of Demon like soldiers attacking the crew that had docked at the trading port and….

Eben stopped mid thought and mid step.


View attachment 5592Directly in his path, separating the long boat from him, was a Demon. The creature held a whip made of fire in it's claw and across his chest was a row of glowing eyes. It spoke in tongues, but Eben was able to pick out these words.

"The blood of the ancients has been spilled, but you carry our burden away? For this you will be marked, but your life will be spared. Shall you all be cursed to everlasting damnation. If the hourglass is not destroyed in 27 days on the 18th hour, your crew will be as we are"
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There was a cracking sound, but Eben was already jumping across the beach to the long boat. With a leap of faith, hourglass clutched in his arm, he made it. While mid air he felt something brush across the right side of his face, as well as his arm. It was hot, and his nostrils were immediately greeted with the smell of burning flesh.

Eben collapsed in the long boat, his face throbbing with hurt, his hand white with tensions, clinging tightly around the thin waist of the hour glass. He had no vision from his right eye, and although he dared not look at his reflection in the water, he knew he had been hideously deformed from the flame whip. Eben the carpenter would forever be a one armed man after this day, and on top of that, half his face was melted away. But he was alive.

As soon as he got back to the ship, hoisted up by 2 members of the rigging crew who stared at him with wide, terrified eyes, he walked towards 9Lives Chambers. He paid no attention to anyone.

Knock Knock Knock

He pounded on the captains door, usually Lutz and Brutus would have been there to ask what his business was, but since most of the crew was now dead they were helping the rigging crew. 9lives answered the door. He stared, unmoved and seemingly unemotionally at Eben, who now looked like half man half monster. Eben thrust the hour glass at 9Lives before saluting him with his left arm. Although his words were a bit slurred because his lips had almost completely been barbecued off his face, he relayed the message the demon had told him.

"The blood of the ancients has been spilled, but you carry our burden away? For this you will be marked, but your life will be spared. Shall you all be cursed to everlasting damnation. If the hourglass is not destroyed in 27 days on the 18th hour, your crew will be as we are"
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Eben then turned and headed promptly to the doctors chambers. His melted face hanging in a pertinent scowl.


In The captains Quarters



It had seemed like a hundred years since the captain had been to his chambers. He threw the door open and slammed the hourglass on his oaken desk and took a step back. He shifted his weight onto his wooden leg, then He flipped the hourglass over. At that moment it began to drip a substance that looked like blood from one end to the other. 9Lives thought of the words he was told by Eben the carpenter and knew them to be true. Their days were numbered. Until the hour glass was destroyed the mark of death would follow the ship, visible only to the crew.

The curse. The legend. If the crew didn't destroy the hourglass in 27 days and 18 hours, they would all become soulless creatures.

The ship was cursed.




View attachment 5593Back on the ship. After all was said and done, only those closest to the Captain, and a hand full of others, lived through the experience. There was a morbid sense about them, 9Lives felt responsible, but he would never openly admit this. He was a worried man now and would have to no doubt explain to them crew that the hour glass had to be destroyed.

The very thing he had sacrificed so many lives for had to be destroyed.
















End Chapter two, Demons of the south sea
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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

View attachment 5595

Silently ticking away, on the 18th hour of the 27th day.
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The Nautica's Cutlass floated absently into the western hemisphere. Away from the blue waters of the tropics and towards the open sea that bridged the gap between the east and the west. In the chest of every sailor, sea merchant and pirate lies the heart of a person who loves the sea. 9Lives was aware of this and thus gave his orders to set sail to the west. This would give them the longest time between docking.


In the back of the Captains mind he knew that he would have to recruit more crew members, as of now, everyone who could work was working. Some very skilled members doing simple cabin boy duties; cooking, cleaning, night watch, whatever had to be done. One thing was essential: Right now the ship, their home, must be maintained. Even with the ever present mark of death following the crew, a sense of normalcy had to be established.

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9lives stayed inside his cabin curing the first couple days. He read through books of the sea, drank rum by the bottle, and smoked from his pipe. He was looking for an answer. How to destroy the hourglass? That was the question, but how? The captain stayed isolated, only maintaining contact with his first mate and a few others at this time. All the others, as Lutz and Brutus were instructed, had to wait to speak with 9Lives.

He searched with agonizing pressure for an answer.
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In the hospital ward, or the Sawbones quarters as it was so often referred to by the crew, Eben lay in a bed near a port window. His mutilated face wrapped in bandage, his amputated stump of an arm laying at his side. His one good eye stared at the lamp by his bed as he drifted in and out of an opium induced sleep. It was all the doctor could do to ease his pain, and in all honesty, the former carpenter didn't mind it. It saved him from the terrible memory about the demon and the island.


View attachment 5596Three days out from the western continent, the Cutlass pushed on. The crew went on with their duties. They were beaten and weak, but had surprisingly high spirits.
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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Armand was still Absent. Nobody saw hide or hair of the red headed spaniard, The cries of the vile bird beast echoed after them until after nightfall the day they escaped the Kaymin's.


There was only one powder monkey of armands squad that survived. old Gareth nursed a broken nose and a shattered left hand on the deck this morning. He had set a rather odd tri-corn hat on the barrel of fresh water infront of him, and was staring at it, sometiems talking to it.


"THey all gone now, sir. Evy last one of em gone. Nobody to play dice wit now. not even you, you loudmouthed spanish bastard." he pouted in a loud whisper of a voice, taking another drink of week old grog, pathetic tears drifting down his still stained face. he had tried to load a cannon with his broken hands to send soem of the demons back hence they came in his rage, but couldn't hit anything without armands instructions on aim.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast


The mutilation of the flesh was apparent to those who even glanced at Eben, warding many away with the gruesome sight of the wounds that he had sustained. Having been one of the crew who had made it back to the ship in time to haul Eben on board, Tradewind had to admire the man's tenacity and determination. She was clueless as to what he had been tasked with, so important that he shunned treatment until he'd presented his prize to the captain, but she was impressed by his conviction.

Now, sitting over Eben, Kaija was attempting to help out Sawbones since Eben was not the only injured member of the crew. A few who had managed to survive the demon hoards alongside the captain or had made it to the ship before them were terribly mangled. More than one of the men here was dying from the injuries that he sustained and they were powerless to halt this decay. With gentle, quick fingers Tradewind changed the bandage over Eben's face. The seared flesh beneath the bandages was beginning to heal in its own time, she could see already that the flesh was attempting to scab the ruined skin. It was important that the bandages remain in place a little longer, to ensure that nothing ill tainted this wound. As soon as it had truly begun to heal though, the poor man would have to remove the bandages. Reconstructing flesh needed air and would do nothing but make the wound mushy and swampy.

Finishing the bandaging, Tradewind leaned back to examine her work. For now, it seemed that Eben was once more in an opium haze, letting him dream sweetly and forget the world. Not that she could blame him - it seemed that the man had been to hell and back. Waking to the real world would not be much kinder to him. What use was a carpenter with only one arm? She touched the stump of arm arm he had left and on a whim, she pulled the sleeve of his shirt down around it and tied it off. The grotesque amputation was likely a sore point for the man when he woke occasionally. At the least, he was still a pirate. No doubt his sacrifice would be more than enough for the captain to keep him, even if the man had no arms left at all.

"Sleep well, brave Eben" Tradewind bid him as she slipped from the ward of death and misery, out onto the deck of the ship. The sting of the fresh, salty air on her face was a welcome feeling, helping to alleviate the gloom that seemed to have settled over the ship. The crew itself was scarred, that much was painfully obvious to everyone aboard. Standing on the deck, Tradewind scanned the visible area, looking for someone she could talk with so that she was pulled from her thoughts.
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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Blue hues fluttered closed for a moment; she would rest for just a moment. As soon as her eyes closed though she heard cursing and the boat she had been lying in was jarred roughly sending her tumbling over onto her side. Groaning she opened her eyes just enough to see that they were moving. Her other crewmates were moving the boat. One patted her shoulder lightly and told her to not worry; they would get her to the doctor soon. Groaning again she mumbled a name; "Armand?" Her voice cracked and was soft as she tried to talk. No one heard her though as they continued to row towards the Cutlass. At last someone lifted her up into the air and she was passed into another's arms and lain on the deck against the side of the ship.

Holding onto her side tightly she looked around weakly; many had been killed in the battle and many had been wounded. She still couldn't see Armand anywhere though. Where was he? Wasn't he alive? He had to be alive! The thoughts were like a tornado ripping through her mind as the sudden idea of him actually dying passed through her thoughts. She wouldn't believe it until she actually saw his body; she would keep hope that he was alive. Noticing someone sitting on a barrel and crying his eyes out Anabel strained to recognize him; Gareth, he was Armand's powder monkey. Becoming determined once again Anabel struggled to sit up.

Slowly and painfully Anabel pulled herself up with the help of the railing of the ship. Leaning against it for a moment she gasped in pain and sucked in as much air as she could. Looking behind her she saw the beaches of the island; so much blood had been spilled. Deep down, something inside her told her that it wouldn't be the last time that the crew encountered the curse of the islands people. Biting the inside of her cheek she refused to cry out as she began to move towards the crying man. Feet shuffled across the deck as she moved slowly, a look of determination on her face. Beads of sweat rolled down her back and forehead from the exertion of moving. Glancing to her left she noticed Eben walking towards the Captains rooms; what had happened to him? She stared at his face in shock. He had been injured badly and would heal but, would he be able to mentally recover from the experience?

Arm still wrapped around her waist she finally made it to Gareth. Barely standing up straight by now Anabel gasped out her question. "Gareth, where's Armand?" Her voice was cracking again, she needed something to drink. Glancing around she continued to search for the man, where in the bloody hell was he? She was starting to become angry at herself for caring so much about one person. She felt like she was screaming, and no one could hear her or they decided not to acknowledge it. Glancing back down at the man anger made her voice strong and her old Scottish lilt came through her syllables roughly. "Gareth, ye bloody fool stop ye blubbering and tell me where in the bloody hell is Armand!" Her eyes burned with passion but deep down in the pit of her stomach she was madder that anything could have happened to the man. He was supposed to be quick, and always come out of dangerous situations safely!
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Deadeye had gotten back to the ship safe and sound although many of his comrades and drinking buddies hadn't. He leaned against the railing of the ship and stared out towards the endless ocean. All he could feel at the moment was remorse and pain. Although he had received injuries fighting off the hordes of blood crazed demons he knew that none of them were anywhere close to what some of the ship mates had gained... especially Eben. Deadeye figured that Eben had received the second worst set of wounds of them all with Anabel being the first. When they had brought her back on board she was on the verge of death from grievous gashes, lacerations and what seemed to be some bite marks.

As he stared out at the ocean he pulled out a rather large bottle of rum and chugged it down. Most of the time that Deadeye drank it was mostly for fun, but it was different this time. He was trying to forget what happened on the island. He didn't want to remember any of it. As he turned around to look at the nearly empty deck he could see the ghosts of his old shipmates walking around the ship as if they were still alive today. It took him a few moments to realize that they were just a hallucination in his head but once he did he took another swig of rum and returned his gaze to the ocean. He had been plagued with the hallucinations of his shipmates since the day after they left the island.

Deadeye also seemed to notice something much worse whenever he looked around. The sky was no longer bright and cheerful to him even when the winds were blowing serenely and the ocean was calm. It always seemed like it was about to storm or that a monsoon was on the horizon to him. The looming figure of death in the clouds seemed to be following them. He asked a few of the crewmates before but none of them seemed to want to talk about it. He figured they could see it as well though. After a while his mind continued to race around in a circle of never ending thought. As a crewmate walked by he stopped them and handed them a note to take to the captain. It was a rather abrupt not demanding an audience with the captain. He gave the crewmate a pat on the back and went back to staring out at the ocean.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Tabitha made it back to the ship with the least injuries of all, having been saved by Deadeye at the last minute when she had been frozen in fear. At the moment in time she realized that she was not the brave woman that she thought she was...She was still easily frightened and did not have the heart to take another's life, even when they planned to take her's. Though her guilt had eased when Deadeye said that it was okay for her to freeze, she still felt guilty for the great losses that they took in the battle since she had not been able to even lift the gauntlet she had just bought. Tabitha took it upon herself to take on an many duties as she could, since she was useless in battle she could at least keep the ship in shape.

From cleaning the cabins to cutting up food in the kitchen, she did anything anyone asked of her... That was appropriate of course. At the moment she was scrubbing the deck on her hands and knees, cleaning up another dried blood stain from one of the many injured that had been dragged back on board. She had gotten rid of the long sleeved shirt and boots, finding them to be useless in keeping her from getting wet as she washed. All that remained what the blue corset and pants, the bottoms rolled up to her knees. She never thought herself to be of any use with cleaning at first but she learned quickly, though many were drunken and depressed they still were quick to correct her were they could, she didn't mind though, it seemed that fixing her mistakes took their minds off the pain.

After having finished with the one spot she sat back and took a breather, not used to hard labor like this. She looked over the deck, finding it strangely empty. She noticed Deadeye was looking out over the sea, drinking from an unlabeled bottle that she assumed to be booze. She had not gotten a chance to thank him for saving her since they arrived, the lack of helping hands putting a lot of pressure on the remaining crew. She stood up slowly, tossing the scrubbing brush into the bucket of soapy water before she walked slowly over to him. It seemed that he wasn't doing anything important and cleared her throat, trying to gather his attention.

"Deadeye...Are you alright?" She asked to as she looked up at the taller man.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Amilio stared back at the island like so many others of the crew as they departed the island, mourning and depressed. His father stood next to him, silent until they both started muttering prayers for the dead. Turning away Amilio sat on a box, Augusto pulling a box up for himself to sit on, putting an arm around his son's shoulders. He bowed his head, wondering if all those lives were worth having his father back. Inside him a little voice said that it was, and he was ashamed for thinking so. There were things that needed to be done on the ship, and he was going to go check up on Eben, and he had to go talk to the Captain about the sudden appearance of his father. He sighed, to which his father responded with a pat on the back. "Father, there are things I need to do on the ship. Help the crew and blend in until I can talk to the captain, okay?" Augusto smiled at his son, and nodded his head "Yes, my son." The older man stood up, removing his coat and laying it on a box as his son walked away toward the stairs going below deck.

Amilio was headed to go see Eben and saw Tradewind coming from the infirmary as he got closer to the stairs. He tried to not look or sound so worried as he asked her "How is he? Is he in pain? He will live, si?"
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast


Turning at the sound of a voice, Tradewind nodded to Amilio and smiled a little bit, though it was grim. There were other things on his mind, of this she was certain, and he seemed less than excited about talking to her. Likely he was only even talking to her because she had spent so much time tending to Eben and would know best. Trying to keep from looking morose, she gestured to where she had just come from and tried her best to look more hopeful than defeated as she felt with the entire set of recent affairs.

"It is certain now that he will live, yes. As far as the pain, he is in none, though I am certain he would feel some pain were he not under opium's hand. For now, he is not in pain. He likelier than not won't work as a carpenter again, though..." Tradewind cupped one of her hands over the other, trying not to seem terribly down. She knew that she ought to feel worse about Eben but she did not feel so bad for him right now. She probably would, later on, but for now he was much happier than she was while he slept with the drugs.

"You seem as though you were headed elsewhere, Amilio. I don't mean to keep you."
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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

For the first time in a while, Scarlet was quiet aboard the Cutlass. About now is when she'd tell everybody to do what they could for the ship because of its condition, and then she'd help the Captain plan their next move. Neither of those tasks were put into action, though. Woe was in the air; they lost many brave men and woman to those monsters. Although her face was stone cold, showing no emotion, she was devastated. What was going to happen to them? When would 9Lives allow her to speak with him? Where were they supposed to go from here?

Sighing to herself, she leaned against the mast of the ship and crossed her arms, wincing as she did so. Scarlet was sore in many places. There was a nasty cut on her upper right arm, which tore her jacket and left a large blood stain. That jacket was left to someone to mend it. For now, she could handle just her white, lacy blouse. Around her damaged arm was patchwork, though the entire arm itself was dirtied with crimson. She needed to wash it off at some point. That was the worst of her injuries, really. She had bruises here and there and her knuckles were grotesque colours, but was nothing she considered serious. She'd had worse...

Her emerald eyes gazed at the distant waters. That was a fine distraction from her thoughts. Although she lived on the sea her entire life, she never tired of its company. If there were any God she loved, it was the mighty Poseidon. 'May he have mercy on us all.'

Not too far from her, she heard people voicing their concerns for Eben. Scarlet sympathized the young man. He suffered greatly on that island... However, he did make it back alive. 'Eben be a strong lad,' she thought to herself, faithful in the idea that he would make a full recovery. It was likely he wouldn't be the same ever again, but he would surely pull through!

At that point, she decided she would pay her Captain a visit. To see how he was doing, more than anything. That old man was more than her commander; he was her friend. The dearest friend she had. Hell, he was almost like a father.

Scar straightened herself up and resumed walking along the deck, in no hurry to get where she needed to be. She might as well survey the current engagements of the other pirates, in case she could be of assistance somewhere. Despite all that happened, she could be relied on for support and guidance.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Somewhere between the island and the cutlass. a shadow bolted across the waves...



"Armand ye say.. He didn't make it back. N'body sawr Im.. not a bloody one of us sawr im. he shoulda been here already. this is all we found." he said, pointing at the hat on the barrel infront of him. Or at least he would have if it was still there.

"Zounds, even his hat be gone now!" Gareth mouned out, falling off the barrel and intoa pile there by the main mast.


"we're dead... we're all dead already! there is no heaven, there is no hell, only the cutlass and its damned crew! DAMNED!" Gareth pouted in a strong drunken rant.



 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Hearing that Eben was going to live was a relief but not being able to do carpentry any more brought a hard frown to his face. "I think he will still try" he smiled a little "He can be stubborn." She seemed to be excusing herself almost, but Amilio was in no hurry. He looked at her for a moment. "I was going to look for Rhorie, but she will want to visit Eben, or maybe no. It might be too sad for her. Thank you for helping him." He reached out and touched her elbow. "Are you okay?"
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Links' was slightly injured from the battle, but it was nothing serious. He had some wounds on his arm that could be easily bandaged and he was still quite able bodied. He was carrying a medium sized oak barrel of rum on his shoulder. He was currently helping the chef out by fetching cargo for him. Links decided to take the scenic route, though, and stepped out onto the deck. He saw the many sad, somber, and drunk faces of his new crew. Links felt bad about what happened, but he didn't know any of the men that fell in combat so his pain could be nowhere near that of the crew. Links placed the barrel down on the deck and making it a makeshift stool for himself. Compared to the once bustling pirate crew, this place seemed like a ghost town now...And Links couldn't shake the feeling that something ominous was about.

After sitting for a short bit, Links noticed Scar leaning against one of the ship's masts. She showed no emotion, which Links figured to be some sort of defense mechanism. It wasn't good for a first mate to have negative emotions, other than anger. It would bring the ship's morale down. Links couldn't be one hundred percent sure if she truly had no emotions towards this tragic event, but it would take a cold, heartless person to show no regard for their fallen allies. Links knew Scar was not heartless.

Scar started moving now, her path leading past Links. Once she was in earshot, Links would call out to her.

"Oi, Scarlet!" Links waved at her with his bandaged arm. "Come 'ere an talk ta me for a bit, if ya not busy." Links stood up and placed his hand on the barrel wondering if this hardened first mate would pay him any mind. Links was in a little bit higher spirits than the rest of the crew, he was still upset, that much was obvious, but he wasn't so upset that he couldn't try and console someone, or just be a friend.
 
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