Galleon of the Black Mast [COMPLETED RP]

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Silverwolf

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

"No, you're all right Rhorie. The Captain wanted to see me, and those letters should be a good indication as to why." Rhorie returned to her crouching position at Charlotte's words, curiousity and desire for adventure inflamed.

"Right you are miss." She murmured absently, spinning the letter in her fingers as Charlotte and Torbellino talked in Spanish beside her. She ran the pad of her thumb across the Captain's Seal on the envelope. When would she ever get a letter from the Captain again? Eventually the anticipation began burning a hole in her stomach, knotting her guts with excitement and wonder. She ripped open the envelope to find a single sheet of thick parchment with the message written in Charlotte's elegant, spidery scrawl in the centre.

"From your Captain.
I am facing a tough decision and need your help, as much as it pains me to ask for it given the tough journey to the north of which I am sure you are all questioning. Where I would usually address the crew as a whole, I need you all to keep your lips tight about this. It is for your ears only, and must be kept secret. Please come to my quarters tonight, at the moons highest point, and tell no one. All will be revealed then.

Signed Captain Claudius Nine-Lives
"

A shiver ran down Rhorie's spine at the sheer mystery of the letter. She assumed El Torbellino, Master Eben and the few other pirates who recieved a letter had an exact copy of this. The thrill of being part of a huge secret, even one she didn't yet know, was exhilarating. She set back to her board-work with renewed enthusiasm, her belly tight with wonder. Her mind was already whirling with ideas of what the Captain might say tonight. Was he going to hunt some mythical beast? Sell stolen jewels to Royalty? Suddenly she remembered something. The prisoner. This just had to be something to do with her. But what? Something, some vague idea tickled at the back of Rhorie's mind, but she couldn't make the conscious connection. She wondered if she could visit the prisoner after dinner, before the Captain's meeting. Rhorie recalled that, if Jawbone let her, she had the excuse of filling the hull-fault in the cell... A sudden thought came into her head. She could even lie. Jawbone need'nt know. She tried to squash the idea, but it niggled at her, forcing her to think about it. To go behind Jawbone's back about anything would be against her values. She had known the Master carpenter for a long while, long enough to become friends with him. Could she really betray her friend? This would require some hard thought.
~
A while later, she came to her decision. She wouldn't betray Jawbone like that. She could talk to the prisoner any time, while she had the carpentry excuse, so she might as well keep it handy until after the meeting when she actually knew who the prisoner was and what she was for. Clicking her tongue, she looked up at Eben and El Torbellino.

"So," she murmured softly. "What're you assumptions then?"
 

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Deadeye only smirked at Charlotte and gave her another pat except this one was on the head. He looked at the other two who were in front of them, one was Torbellino and the other was Rhorie. Both were excellent carpenters and had been working for the ship for a while but he couldn't understand why they got letters let alone how he himself did as well, although the Spaniard had offered to drink with him so he didnt really mind. For a moment he looked out towards the see apparently drifting off but then stretched his back and kneeled down on the ground.

"Well miss Charlotte. My furry little friend is keeping himself a fine young lass as a companion at the moment. The lass has much fairer skin than me so im assumin he'll be rubbin against her all day. If ya wanta go see em i guess ya gotta follow me later or just stalk me, but ya already stalk me anyway hahahaha. As for you spaniard senior~ You keep ta work, i dont want this damn ship sinking while im on it. Once your done just come ta fetch me and ill drink if im not already tanked."

Deadeye then pulled out his flintlock pistol and began to clean it right in front of them as if there was no danger in cleaning an active weapon in front of people. He obviously knew what he was doing though since he began to dismantle the whole gun cleaning each and every part and then reassembling it to look brand new. Once he was satisfied with the iron sights calibration and the barrels adjustment he put the gun away and stood back up while yawning.

"So any of ya got something fun ta do? Im bored as hell and these fish dont keep me no company. All they do is yap about the water and splash about, although if im lucky i hear a nice ol thunk from one o the bloody bastards hitting the ship." He laughed once again and turned around as he went off towards one of the smaller crowds on the ship. He had intended to vanish into the mess of people although he knew it would be hard since his outfit stood out quite a bit more than the rest of the ships. The others wearing coats and the such but him wearing a cloak that looked almost like a kings robes only less elegant.

While he was talking to the few members of the crew on the ship his companion had been swinging around in the rafters and finishing his banana before the young lady had waved him offer. At first the monkey just stared at her tilting its head back and forth every now and then. After a while the little monkey slowly crawled down stopping every few seconds before finally coming to rest in the woman's lap. It then looked up at her and made a cute little sound at her before pawing at her hands.
 
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Ochalla

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Ah, the salty sea on a cold winters morn. How poetic, and how dreadfully cold. The ships surgeon did not take her breakfast in the mess. She ate her noontime meal with the crew as well as the evening one, but she tended to herself to break her fast, being that at times she did not get a good night sleep. Of all the crew she was the only one that was always on twenty four hour alert. As it was she took to her cabin when she pleased and crew was only allowed to come to her door for a non-emergency between the noon and supper bells.

Cybele sat on a stool, sipping tea and looking out the porthole at the grey waves. Foolishness being out in this cold, the crew was too soft, spending the winters in the warm waters of the south and picking off spice merchants. That some had actually gambled away their scarves and woolen socks had actually caused the woman to go down into the belly of the ship one night and confiscate the dice and knock over the make shift card tables. She had then told them that if any take as payment the cold weather clothing of another that they would find upon waking the digits she had to chop off the foolish in the morning.

She kept to her threat too.

No one gambled away their cold weather clothing any more this week.

It was little things like that she had to do to keep her work load from creeping up, that and to keep the moaning and complaining down. In a way, it actually help moral, not that your average pirate would realize that or appreciate it.

The woman they called Leech wasn't too bothered by that at the moment. She had her morning breakfast and had a good sleep the night prior. Soon she'd dress and make her presence once more known aboard the ship.

At least that had been the plan until there was a knocking on her door. Setting the cup down in a spot that it wouldn't move away or slosh around, Cybele pulled on a large bear fur cloak. It had been an unusual acquirement, and one that none on the crew saw much need for two years ago.

Pulling the hood up, to cover her unbraided hair, Cybele Widdershins opened the door.
 

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

The smile on her face widened as the small creature cutely cooed at her and started to tap at her hands. She pet its head head gently and scratched behinds its ears to see if it would like that. Even though it was the pet of a nasty pirate she could not bring herself to be mad at the little monkey, it wasn't like it had a choice in who its owner was anyway. She continued to just sit on the bed and cuddle with the tiny primate in her lap, waiting for something, anything, to happened and hopefully allow her to escape from this horrible ship.
 

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

The day seemed to drag slowly on. Besides the cold winds that constantly blew throughout the day, there was the issue of cold, nearly frozen hands. More than once, Eben had nearly smashed his hurt finger, but luckily managed to avoid it. The only thing on his mind was getting done and heading back into the warmth of the ship. The quicker the job was done the quicker they would be planted in front of a fire. The thought of the warm fires that burned non stop in the underbelly of the ship this time of year made Eben shiver even more. He reached into his jacket and pulled his flask out again, this time nearly finishing the bottle. It seemed that Eben was drinking a lot more lately. The past two months he had had to refill his flask twice a day, when 6 months ago it was only once a day at best. Only a slight difference, but he wondered if it would be a constant steady progression. One that would end in him becoming a full time lush and part time privateer.

It was more than normal for Eben to get totally lost in his work, his mind filled with measurements and the simple, yet somehow complex geometry that every Carpenter must know. He was sure the others didn't think it too out of the ordinary when he paid little attention. He barley gave a word of thanks to the guard that brought the letter from the Captain, and with three sixteen penny nails sticking out between his sealed lips, he just shoved it into his pocket and continued hammering in the fresh boards.

When he finally found a stopping point, Eben pulled out the letter and read over it quickly. A few of the words made it a tough process though, reeee-veee-aled? he sounded the word out in his head Re-ve-ale? Ale? What is this bloody talk of booze? He paused then sounded it out once more, Revealed!

He knew that Rhorie would no doubt finish before him, or El Torbellino, who barley spoke the language.

"I will make none" Said Eben in response to Rhorie, again pulling out his flask, this time draining the bottle completely. He looked between his friends faces, then past them, and at the Captains quarters, where thick plumes of smoke rose from the roof. "Since we we'll be gettin' a chance to here for ourselves tonight."

"Freezing to death fixin' the deck be our only fun, Deadeye." Said Eben with a sarcastic smile to the head Gunner. Him and that damn monkey made quite the duo.



Day passed into night






 View attachment 3413 The sun is So quick to run to the west during these 
cold, winter days. Almost as if it were scared of what the night may bring. By dinner bell it was nothing more than a fleeting memory, and after the meal was served, just a stripe of orange surrounded by dark blue in the horizon.

For most of the crew this was an average evening aboard the Cutlass. Some drank and played cards, others drank and sang songs of the sea, and 
some just drank.



With night came a thick, low lying fog. The kind of fog that makes the earth appear as if someone took a giant paint brush and splashed a fresh coat of gray paint across everything. It makes things take on an ethereal appearance . It hides what is real. And makes people imagine what is there, is not. Fog like this is as dangerous as it is hated by seafaring folk.


View attachment 3414 For those unfortunate enough to have drawn guard duty, an early sleep followed by waking at some ungodly hour of the night was in order. All in all, nothing unusual.
However, for the members of the crew that had a certain letter in their possession, the night was only just beginning. Those of whom had respect for the Captain would no doubt be at his quarters when the moon was at it's highest point, as instructed.














The Meeting
In the Captains quarters


Prior to the arrival of the crew, the captain cracked open a bottle of genuine Caribbean rum, not that cheap swill made in the kitchen of some drunk sailor, but the real deal. He poured himself a cup and lit his pipe. This was fast becoming his favorite ritual. One of the few things he looked forward to during the long, sometimes sleepless, nights at sea. He loved looking out at the open water and stars. It was relaxing for his bones and therapy for his mind. Although tonight was especially foggy, he enjoyed it nonetheless.

He finished the first drink, then cradled the bottle between his arm and body and twisted the cap off with his remaining hand, a bit awkward, as was most anything that required two hands, but the old Captain managed surprisingly well.

The most trusted members of his crew began to arrive. He gave them each a stern nod as they entered, one that said 'respect and dignity' as well as 'loyalty and gratitude', and if it was at all possible for a simple head nod to say all this, it also said welcome.

Captain Claudius 9lives surveyed his crew with a critical eye. The same way a master swordsman might look at a well crafted weapon. Through the haze of rum and smoke he accepted the fact that these sailors, these pirates, were his weapon in a battle against survival. After all, without them he would be as naked as a solider on the battle field without a weapon.

He sipped his rum and began to speak.

"There be but one purpose to our collective goal, and in the end it is as certain as life and death. We do what we do for freedom and luxuries. Luxuries that we would never, in a thousand years, be able to acquire had we chosen another life. However, this life does not come without risk. The greater the gain, as with most things, the greater the risk."

He pulled deeply on his pipe, sending small white circles of smoke into the air. He originally had a long speech planned, but due to the rum that was slowly crawling up his stomach and into his head, The captain decided to cut straight to the fat.


"As some of you may have noticed we have a prisoner aboard the ship. She is the princess of Helsink. A bounty or sorts has been placed on her head by none other than His royal majesty."

He flicked his wrist towards his head in a sarcastic, mock salute then paused again, looking at all the faces, judging for impact.

"We should be reaching Helsink bay around the morning after next.''

He confirmed this by a quick glance to Mr. Rutger, his trusted Navigator with whom he had a long history.

a trip on land to deliver our precious treasure will be in order. This brings me to why you are all here. I need the strongest, most intelligent and above all else, most trust worthy members with me. I need all of you to accompany me onshore when we dock at Helsink''


He stopped, waving his wooden stup of an arm across the room, to indicate everyone present

"All of you. And as such, the bounty will be split evenly."





Just outside the captains quarters, on the main deck.


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The fog rolled in, thick, dark and menacing, and with it came a great danger. In the night, ever circling the dark waters in the north, were rouge pirates. These northern privateers often attacked ships at random, ones that had wandered foolishly, or unknowingly into their waters. The Nautica's cutlass was a victim of the latter on this dark and foggy night.

These 'Pirates of the North' as they were so often referred to, had many things working to their advantage. One being an inexperienced crew on watch aboard the Cutlass, another being the fog, and lastly the fact that they were in their own land, preying on a foreign ship.

The Northern privateers made their attack on the Cutlass, silently and undetected.

The Northern ship, completely masked by the fog, was within cannon range, but they opted for a stealth attack. They sent 4 long boats, each carrying 15 men on either of the cutlass. The Northern Pirates used hooks and crude rope ladders to get on deck. They got the jump on the night watch, slitting their throats and leaving them to bleed out. After the watch was killed the decks were quickly occupied by the vicious brutes that hailed from the North.


The Nautica's Cutlass IS under siege!


As luck would have it, just as the Captain was finishing his speech to the crew, one of the guards burst through the door into the Captains quarters where everyone was gathered. His hand was clamped tight around his neck as blood dripped through his fingers and onto the floor. His eyes were full of fear, and he could manage no words, but at that very moment it wasn't necessary as luck struck again. The Nautica's Cutlass passed a hollow patch in the fog, for a moment everything was illuminated by the moon. Directly out the window, no more than 300 meters out, the opposing ship was visible, and out on the deck, behind where the bleeding guard stood, were the northern pirates, swords drawn and ready for battle.




Captain 9Lives, eyes wide and menacing, turned to the crew. just as a cannon blast echoed in the distance.

"Alert the men ! We are under attack! Take to arms and defend our home!"

He spun, surprisingly quick for a one legged man and turned to his head gunner.

"Man the Cannons, Sink their ship! Leave none alive!"


The Captain drew his own weapon, but stayed in his quarters. He had confidence in his crew to protect him as well as the Cutlass.


The battle has begun.







 

Mainstream Hipster

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Karel had been the first to arrive to the meeting, accepting the nod from the Captain with a nod of his own. He took his place off to the side, near the captain's seat. He already knew what this meeting was about, and had agreed with its necessity. As the rest of the required crewmembers filed in, he gave no nod but merely observed silently. In this he was merely a guest, as they all were, and it was not his place to provide introductions.

As the Captain noted the arrival of all parties necessary, he began his speech, before realizing that the rum had dulled his brain and instead jumped straight to the point. The looks of surprise from the crew announced that they did not see this coming as well as had doubts about the Captain's intentions. Karel nodded when the Captain turned to him for confirmation about their arrival to Helsink. This was provided the seas kept calm, which they should, given that they were getting closer and closer to mainland, but the sea is a tricky thing and Karel understood that most of all.

The mood changed suddenly when a guard, stained crimson burst through the door. Normally this would be a grave offense, but given the situation it was more than warranted. The flash of moonlight that followed gave all the information needed. They were under attack and Karel assumed correctly that these were local sailors thinking them easy prey in the waters that they know best. As the captain yelled out orders, Karel calmly strode out, prepared to prove the enemy boarders wrong about their assumption.

Quickly surveying the nearby assailants, he noted that none appeared to be armed with guns. This was fortuitous, guns were hard to stop with a blade and all it takes is one lucky shot to end a man's life. However, since they all wielded blades like himself, they stood no chance. He quickly unsheathed his sword, living up to his nickname by cutting down the first assailant that came before him, sending a spray of crimson into the air before looking around for the next opponent, methodically cutting them down.
 

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

As Deadeye had been waiting in the quarters with the captain and the others his monkey swung in through one of the portholes before crawling along the floor and coming to rest on his shoulder. The furry little fellow had wrapped its tail around Deadeye's neck and rested a hand on his head before quieting down. Once the monkey was silent and the others filed in the captain began his speech. This speech was cut short by his obvious ale ingestion. But the news that the prisoner was a princess came only as a slight surprise to him, after all he had seen the lady himself and her clothes more than said it.

As the meeting went on the deadly opponents drew in unannounced, and, as the guard came in covered in blood and staggering towards the group he fell to the ground dead. His dead body lay still on the ground as the captain started barking orders, one being directed straight at Deadeye himself whom immediately ran through the door with his pistol and cutlass in hand. As he made his way to the main hull he began to shout out loudly. "MEN TO ARMS YE DAMN SCURVY DOGS! WE BE UNDER ATTACK!" As he ran through the ship cutting down invaders left and right the others began to awake and join in on the fight. After a small bit of bloody battling he made it to the hull and nearly flew down the stairs and armed one of the cannons. He quickly went to work stuffing powder and prepping the cannon ball before firing it at the ship.

"All precautions are gone save the ship and sink those bastards! Ill give ale to all who land a ball in their damn ship!" Deadeye seemed to have a crazed look about him as he manned the cannons. He feverishly worked left and right firing two cannons and re arming them alone while the others were scrambling with theirs all while his mates above fought the boarded assailants. Cannon balls were flying left and right from both ships and he swore that several went right by him. His monkey had been scampering around helping him powder the cannons between fights, it would use all its strength to get the small amount of powder in the cannon and whenever an assailant got into the hull it would warn him by shrieking loudly and then throwing rocks at them to distract them while he shot the poor bastard. This went on for a while, too long for him to keep track.
 

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

The door slammed open. Charlotte's eyes darkened at the sight of blood. Trusting her Captain's words, and knowing there was nothing she could do for the blood-soaked guard, she stalked out after Karel, her fingers twining tightly round the hilt of her blade. Her knuckles went white. Somewhere to her right, Deadeye flashed past her on his way down to the cannons. She vaguely registered Karel carving brutally into the enemy and prepared herself to do the same, knowing the rest of her companions would be joining them soon.

Her mother had always taught her not to allow the birth of hatred, anger or vengeance in her, but Charlotte thought of the guard's wide eyes and rage curled round her mind all the same. Her cutlass flashed from the sheath and an angry pout slid onto her lips. She lunged forward as the first round of cannon fire ripped through the night air. The blade found its mark, messily gouging through skin and coming to a rest below the heart. She jerked the blade back out and heard the gush of blood. She wouldn't look at the man as he fell, instead spinning to deal with another. Metal clashed against metal, the blow reverberating up her arm. Excitement welled up in her and that gleam appeared in her eyes.

A cat, playing with a mouse.

Slash, slash, stab. Cut them to ribbons, make them bleed, then stop the heart. The only given objective was to protect the ship and she could do it any way she liked. The cannon monkeys would take care of sinking the assailants' ship. After a few moments of distracted thought, she began to slice her way towards the brig. The prisoner was probably fine, but she wouldn't want that to change. She was doubtless wanted alive and well, so it wouldn't do for her to be slit up or captured before she could be returned.
 
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Ochalla

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

More than one member of the crew thought they saw a ghost when Cybele, dressed in her customary white, walked on deck before going to the captains quarters. That ghost indeed would walk soon was not expected however as she had walked in and took a seat, eyeing each and every other that was invited to this little party of the captain's. None were truly surprising. What a shame.

Settling her attention to the captain she was surprised with what he had to say. Not about the captive herself, no, Cybele had had a hunch, but that she was a bounty, that they were going to go into the heart of Helsink it's self, oh yes, 9 Lives had indeed surprised the surgeon and she smiled at that.

As all that was sinking in, the door burst open and Cybele saw the bleeding man. The orders of the captain was on deft ears to her, she knew her job even as the others saw what had landed on their ship. Her motions were quick and she did not faulter in the least as the first cannon ball was fired at their ship.

Getting the man down on the ground, against the wall was not difficult, he was after all drowning in his own blood. It was no use, the jugular had been cut. It hadn't been a complete cut, hence he had had the ability to get to the captain's quarters, but that was all the strength left.

Closing his eyes, Cybele finally looked out at the deck. She had a long night ahead of her. Now to get to her quarters without ending up like this poor bastard.
 

October Knight

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

A few things were playing in favor for the crew aboard Nautica's Cutlass. One being the fact than many of the finest swordsmen on the ship were already up and armed. Another being that the Captain was able to give orders to each of his top officers all at once, including Deadeye who's job would be of great importance. And lastly, Cybele would be prepared now for what would no doubt turn out to be a busy night for her.

Although they were caught terrifically of guard, these few factors greatly evened out the odds. Not to mention the fact they had caught the invasion sooner than the northern privateers had expected, so only about twenty to twenty five of their men managed to climb aboard the Cutlass.

Cannonballs flew through the air echoing that tell tale 'whistle' that any good pirate knows well. Several crashed on the deck sending splintered wood in all directions as men screamed out in agony. Some cried for their mothers, others gave fierce war screams. Blood and mangled bodies lay strewn across the deck, which was quickly beginning to look more like a battlefield, and to no surprise, because that is exactly what it was.



View attachment 3420


Eben, sword in hand and a coppery taste in his mouth, sprinted outside. He had just a moment to notice the section of deck he had spent all day fixing get blown to hell before slipping in a pool of blood. His left foot went flying out in front of him and he took off on his back heel. Everything flew past him in a blur before he collided, knee first, with a northern Privateer. Like most of the men from the northern regions, he was a bear of a man. Hairy as he was thick, with cannon ball sized arms and a neck that would make a gorilla jealous. Although he was a large man, Eben had a tremendous amount of force going when he struck, so they both went flying to the ground. Eben's sword went flying, as did the northern privateers. Eben grabbed for it, but was met with an elbow to the jaw. Bright stars and white light jumped into his vision as crimson pain exploded in his head. The man from the North got to his knees, preparing to strike again. Eben had just a moment to react, he grabbed his boot knife, with amazing speed, and jammed it deep into the mans thigh, then twisted the blade. Blood ran down the hilt and onto Eben's hand as the northern Privateer let out a ferocious yell of pain and surprise. Eben, pushing all his weight on to the knifes handle, feeling as it dug even deeper into his enemies flesh, using it as a crutch to quickly get to his feet. Now standing, Eben planted his knee into the man's face, there was a noiseless crunch as the northerners hand shot to his now broken nose.

"You scurvy son of a bastard!" Eden yelled, spit flying from his dry lips. His voice cracked slightly as the pain in his jaw was set ablaze again.




As the battle raged on, Captain 9lives stood in his quarters. He had just a moment to see Deadeye's crew score a direct hit on the northern ship before a sudden thought ripped through his mind.

The Princess!

Having no one near enough to yell orders at, he decided to take matters into his own hands. She must be protected at all costs! Equipped with only his
pepper-box pistol he hobbled out onto the main deck, his wooden stump pounding a steady beat as he hurried toward the cells below deck. The carnage did not phase him at all, but he was delighted to see that the northern privateers were quickly being cut down by his crew. He was confronted only once by the enemy, not missing a beat, he jammed his pepper-box into the mans gut and fired twice. Blood and gore flew out the northerners back as he slumped to the deck.

The Captain made surprisingly quick time, having mastered the art of moving on only one good leg. He rounded the corner and saw that the Princess was unharmed. A sign of relief escaped his chest as he turned to stand guard. He would stay here until his men achieved victory.



Above, on the main deck, the battle raged on.

 

LadyHarpy

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Tabitha was slowly rocked to sleep by the rocking of the ship, her under fed and tiny body not having the strength to stay awake for long periods of time. As time during her rest her little temporary companion left her to sleep in her tiny cot, cuddling into herself in search for warmth that the cell did not provide. She did not wake for any noise until the sounds of cannon fire filled the air. She woke with a start and was quick to realize that the ship was under attack. She did hold her breath though, the northern sea had its fair share of pirates. It was more than likely going to be a move from one cell to another if the Cutlass and her crew didn't hold out.

She stood up and leaned into the bars that contained her, trying to see up the stairs that lead to the next floor. For a moment she could only assume that the crew was holding out was, as no one came down to try and raid the supplies that sat so close to her cage. Suddenly out of no where the great Captain 9Lives appeared, letting out a sigh as he looked at her for the first time since he locked her away. She could only scowl as he approached her bars, this was the man that had betrayed her for gold after all. Knowing that she could get away with being snotty to the old bastard she was quick to make a comment.

"My, my, my, a visit from the captain! So you do care about the life of another living creature...Oh wait, I have a bounty on my head. Oh how silly of me to think that you would care for anything more than money!" She said, hissing out the last of it as she glared at the older man. "So what's the trouble up there captain? Having a bit of fun with the northern pirates?" She continued to tease as she turned away and sat back on her tiny bunk.
 
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Silverwolf

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Rhorie paced. She couldn't help herself. Normally, she would be wood-carving somewhere on deck, perhaps the crow's nest or the forecastle, but not tonight. Here she was in the workshop, a broom abandoned, half-fixed, on the central bench, walking up and down insistently, repeatedly, her boot-heels tap-tapping an impatient rhythm on the well-cared-for floorboards. For about the third time in the last five minutes or so, Rhorie adjusted her short route to take her to the window. She peered out through the thick glass. A soupy mist covered almost every feature outside, but she could just make out the pearly orb of the Moon. She was still not quite at her highest point and Rhorie cursed silently, scowling. Another few minutes. Abruptly she stood perfectly still, then her foot began tapping again. She was normally a patient person, dealing with either monotonous jobs, drunken pirates or garbled shouts from the crow's nest on an almost daily basis - or on some days, a combination of all three. But now she could barely concentrate. On the exterior, she was vaguely cool and collected, but inside she was burning with curiousity and impatience. Why couldn't time go faster, Goddammit! She checked the window again and told herself to wait another minute. Then, she would take a very slow walk up to the Captain's quarters and be there exactly on time.

After a moment that was much less than a minute, Rhorie span on her heel and exited the carpentry workshop. Her steps were sharp and long, the walk of someone very eager to get to their destination. At the door to the deck, she paused briefly and tugged her scarlet tunic tighter around her, bracing herself for the Northern cold, then stepped outside. A small supressed shiver, then she was off again, boots rapping smartly on the deck, then the Captain's quarters were in front of her. She watched another pirate, someone she couldn't actually recognise in the misty gloom, enter through the door and stepped forward boldly, catching the handle as the finely-carved slab of varnished Southern oak swung back to its frame. Pushing it open again, she entered the warm glow of candles and then the Captain was there, nodding a friendly, yet almost formal nod to her that said all manner of respectful things. She nodded back and strode over to the crowd of pirates already assembled. She recognised everybody in the room, all people of vague importance in the crew or ones the Captain trusted and was friendly with. They were all chatting amongst themselves, then suddenly there was a hush. Rhorie moved to stand with Eben as the Captain began speaking.

"There be but one purpose to our collective goal, and in the end it is as certain as life and death. We do what we do for freedom and luxuries. Luxuries that we would never, in a thousand years, be able to acquire had we chosen another life. However, this life does not come without risk. The greater the gain, as with most things, the greater the risk." Rhorie wondered at the strange introduction of sorts. It was interesting and hinted that there was a lengthy monolgue to follow, but she hoped fervently that there wasn't. She just wanted to know what this secret meeting with the Captain in the middle of the night was all about. After a sufficient thoughtful pause from the Captain, he continued.


"As some of you may have noticed we have a prisoner aboard the ship." Another pause. Rhorie felt butterflies jittering in her belly. What was the secret?? "She is the princess of Helsink. A bounty or sorts has been placed on her head by none other than His royal majesty." Rhorie found herself taking the news surprisingly calmly. A quiet gasp, that was all. A huge part of her was simply saying 'I knew it all along! Of course it's the Princess! Who else could have captured so much of the Captain's attention, made him request good treatment for her?' And the bounty. The bounty! Rhorie couldn't even imagine how much that might be, from the King himself! She glanced around her, taking in similar expressions of awe.

"We should be reaching Helsink bay around the morning after next.'' said the Captain, glancing at the Cutlass' Navigator to confirm his estimate. Rhorie felt incredibly excited again. Pirate life was interesting and she enjoyed it greatly, but this was something else. The Princess as prisoner, and a bounty from the King... these were not average pickings. The Princess must have ran away, and abruptly Rhorie felt a small pang of pity, but dismissed it. It wasn't as if the girl would be treated badly on her return, she was the Royal Princess after all.

"A trip on land to deliver our precious tr
easure will be in order. This brings me to why you are all here. I need the strongest, most intelligent and above all else, most trust worthy members with me. I need all of you to accompany me onshore when we dock at Helsink''

Rhorie raised her eyebrows at that. Strong? Intelligent? Trustworthy? She may consider herself to possess some or all of those qualities, but for the Captain to... this was high praise indeed. And an adventure too! Already Rhorie couldn't wait, and she sensed the same restless excitement in her fellow 'strong', 'intelligent' and/or 'trustworthy' crewmates. Suddenly there was another hush, more influencial than the first, though this time no one had been speaking. But the room quietened suddenly all the same.

"All of you." The Captain said, reinforcing the selected crew members' assumptions. The the Captain took a deep breath, and Rhorie saw his throat working. "And as such, the bounty will be split evenly."

Rhorie had known the bounty was to be mentioned again... but at this scale! Split evenly! She grinned at Jawbone beside her, shaking her head in near disbelief. The sum of gold that would come her way if this Royal deal was successful... it would be something she had never witnessed before. And that made her almost as excited as the potential adventure. She was now thrumming like a bowspring, on edge with the sheer anticipation of it all.

Then suddenly she whipped round, her trusty cutlass flying from its sheath and into her steady hand as a massive crash was head - the door to the Captain's quarters slamming back against the wall as one of the Watch staggered in. Rhorie's eyes widened as she observed the jagged cut that had almost severed his head from his shoulders. His stained hands groped desperately at the terrible wound, but an enemies knife had already taken it's toll. The man did not speak, but his work was done, and he collapsed backwards and the force of the blood he was holding back forced his weakening hand away. A gurgling fountain of scarlet spouted from his body as he lay on his back outside the Captain's rooms. His lifeblood pooled around him as a break in the mist outside honoured Rhorie with a terrible view - a ship of enemy pirates, Northern by the looks of their distant ship-

"Alert the men! We are under attack!" The Captain bellowed as Rhorie rushed out onto the main deck. She heard his deep voice shout more, but she was into the fray, her cutlass blocking a Northern blade and pushing it back at its owner. She cared nothing for being speared like a fish now the anticipation of a great adventure was in her. She swirled somewhat gracefully, extending her arm and twisting her wrist, then bringing it back downward in a slashing cut. The oak-and-iron pommel - larger than average and measured exactly to fit snugly into a variety of soft places in a man's anatomy, mostly on the head - came crashing down at the back of the Northener's head, the shallow and reasonably blunt point of it fitting where skull met spine, something cracked, and then the pirate collapsed, his limbs no longer obeying him. It was a main tactic of Rhorie's, developed by an aversion to killing. She could kill, it had happened before, but she preferred not to. And this pain-stakingly made pommel that had taken her weeks to design and make - she thought as she whirled across the deck in her own distinctive way, Northerners dropping around her, some in spasms - was her own way of bringing that into battle. The pirates she downed would be at the least knocked out, but most would have a broken spine and be capable of nothing more deadly than speech - very useful when it came to capturing enemy prisoners for information, she grinned, marvelling at her own forethought - the pommel making another pirate collapse at her feet.

Suddenly a thought tickled the back of her mind. Bounty... King... Princess! By the Moon, the Princess cannot be harmed by these Northern bastards! Like the whirlpools sometimes glimpsed in distant waters but well avoided by the Navigator, she span on with the thought of protecting the Princess/bounty bundle in the cells of the ship. Absently her mind registered that the hull-fault still needed fixing. Then suddenly the carpenter part of her mind flooded into the swordswoman part and she missed a step in the dance that was her battle, her thoughts and moves jarring awkwardly as she suddenly had to swing her cutlass upward to block a hefty downward swing of an enemy. Luckily the Northerner was fairly scrawny and she blocked it, her back foot holding steady on the boarding of the deck. A quick wrist flick, accompanied by the push of her other hand on the back of the blade and the man's sword was sent wide, leaving him open for a running-through by a sword. A heart-kill.

Rhorie gave the man a last dignity: to look into her eyes and acknowledge that she was his killer. His murderer. Fortified by the knowledge that he would have done the same to her without such ceremony, time seemed to slow as she adjusted her stance and brought her sword around to point directly at him. Foolishly, the Northerner smirked arrogantly and as Rhorie pulled back her arm to deliver the stab, he began to move his arm to perform another heavy slash, opening his defence further. Rhorie mentally shook her head, despaired privately about the lack of talent in swordcraft of these pirates, then drove her arm forward, shifting her feet and hips so her entire weight was behind the blow. The sharp point punctured the man easily and Rhorie twisted her wrist just a little so the wound was wider. Then she felt the gristle as she mapped up the inner parts of the body in her head as the blade slid deeper. It had, due to its relatively slim form, sliced between his ribs, approximately the second and third, and penetrated his heart, then lung, then continued almost ruler-straight to leave his body through the same rib-gap at his back. Rhorie tried not to feel the wet puncture as his muscle and skin and clothes were pierced as well.

Then suddenly time returned to normal and the man let out a gurgling, groaning yell as he began to topple forward, then Rhorie pushed and a great thud sounded as her sword slid out of him and he collapsed backwards on the decking. Trying to forget the pressure changes her hand had felt as the blade of her cutlass had passed through the various viscous materials of the man's vital cavities, Rhorie pushed aside the whirling dance of swordplay and ran full pelt toward the door to the inner ship. Wrenching it open and sprinting down the labyrinth-like corridors of the deeper decks, Rhorie finally reached the cells and was surprised to find the Captain there. Taking up a defensive position beside him, her heart in her mouth, she nodded at him, the deja vu suddenly hitting her full force, reminding her of the last time she had nodded like that to him.

"Cap'n," she said softly, "Are these Northern rouges aware we have such... precious cargo aboard?" She noticed the Captain's thoughtful silence and, detecting no noise close by, used a cloth to wipe the blood and various innards on the blade of her cutlass, wrinkling her nose. She shone the blade in the torchlight to inspect for further mess or scratches on the blade or cracks in the pommel. She found none and, satisfied, took up her defensive position once more, finding herself hopeful that the Captain had acknowledged her obvious kill.
 
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Shan

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Nero had arrived with the first few people. Even though he didn't keep eye contact with the Captain he still nodded in return. Leaning against the wall quietly as everyone crowded around, he could still hear clearly. When they were informed of the prisoner's identity and the plans for her Nero clenched his fist as he felt his heart almost explode out of his chest. Thankful that he was not seen, most people did not notice him or even remember his presence anyway, Nero tired to calm himself and keep his expression blank.

When the call to battle arrived Nero was thankful for the draw of the attention. He rushed through the door drawing his sword he rushed the two of the invading enemy. His stance was lose as his movements moved in a fluid motion. His free hand and legs kept making contact keeping his assailants on the defense. The got in a hit here and there but Nero kept going, kept warding them off.

When one hit the ground he made his move on the other. His open palm striking the solar plexus followed by an upward thrust through the abdomen. Nero put all of his weight into it moving his sword in a hard upward manner. As he was pulling his sword from the body Nero felt a burning sensation cross his side. He let out a roar, that had higher toned in it, as she kicked the other on in the face in a stomping manner. blood spattered across his face and shoulders as he grabbed the mand head and with one quick flick of the wrist his second body fell to the floor.

Looking around him Nero sighed at the mess he would no doubt have to clean up once this was all over. Couldn't people just die in a clean way?! Straightening his jacket Nero made his way to the next one and with his fighting unique fighting style, Nero unleashed his fury.
 
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The Butterfly

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Odo had spend the majority of the day below decks, in a small room off to the side of the main carpentry area. Coopering was a valuable skill for a captain to have on his ship and by Odo's luck, he just so happen to have that skill. It was one of the few skills that was valuable across any ship. He toiled most of the day, shaping staves and fitting them within the iron bands. His tools were his own, though he had found a few in this very room, perhaps a sign of the previous Cooper.

He wasn't sure what to make of their odd journey North. Most ships sailed toward warmer weather around this time. Only fortune forced men against their nature of avoiding danger. Though these were not natural men. Brigands, cutthroats, and ne'er do wells of all manner, and he simply another among them. A wandering savage from a place he may never find again, if it or his people existed still. What could his future hold? Would he have a chance to return home or would he need to simply make his home anew, here on the open seas? Time would tell him part of his answer.

His mind drifted to and fro between his thoughts, mirroring the gently rocking of the boat. His peace was disturbed by a call to arms echoed throughout the ship. Odo laid his instruments aside and carefully made his way through the narrow halls. He shifted past fellow crew running here and there, gathering weapons, or running to secure the ship. His task was to first get to his quarters.

Odo emerged from his room some moments later with two daggers; one curved with a shallow belly, the other straight with a narrow point, strapped to his woven belt. He carried a stout club, banded in steel in his right hand, shifting it's weight eagerly as he made his way to the deck. In no time at all he was engaged by a rough, dirty individual who wielded his own club. Odo charged forward, slapping his club at the man's weapon hand while reaching for his throat. The man let out a surprised yelp that was silenced by Odo's strong hands. A strong strike to the side of the man's head brought him immediately to the floor, blood flowing profusely from an open wound. Wasting no time, he quickly attacked anyone he knew not to be his new crew. Striking at legs and arms, lower backs and bases of necks. He didn't always engage an enemy directly, sometimes he simply aided a comrade with a strike to the flank as he passed, allowing them to gain an upper hand.

The battle raged on for what seemed like hours, cries of dying men, yelps of pain, and barked orders barely discernible above the din of the battle. The smell of dead men already began to seep into the air, the sharp copper scent of blood mixed with the salt of the sea, creating a subtle miasma as an under tone to the fight. Odo knew of these sensations well, he wore them as a second skin. As much as the fight raged on above deck, one raged within him as well. A yearning to let his mind go and allow his body to kill, to stretch his claws and gather blood.

The battle was over before that moment came. Odo saw that the a majority of the brigands had been dispatched handily, both by himself and his fellow crew. He looked casually around him, blood staining his clothes and club, cuts and scratches covered his arms and upper body. Some would need tending to soon, but it could wait for a moment longer, he wanted to feel the last dredges of adrenaline before it was completely gone.

That familiar cold fire was nearly gone before he realised that they still had the opposing ship to deal with. Crew began to scramble as many realised the same. This was not Odo's fight, he knew little of the cannons and would only prove to get in the way. With a frown he made his way below deck, heading towards the surgeon's quarters for a few stitches, perhaps some good brandy if she had it.

Or maybe a potion, he thought with a wry smile.
 

LaharlSama

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

As the battle waged on blood began to seep through the floorboards above his head. He took it that both sides were taking casualties and that he need to sink the ship faster. They had landed a good few cannons deep into the enemy ship but it had yet to sink. After a few more cannon balls were shot into the enemy ship he finally got frustrated and ran into the storage room for the ammunition. A few moments after that he came out with two cannon balls with a jolly roger painted on them and a devilish grin on his face before barking orders. "ALRIGHT MEN LET'S END THESE BLOODY CUT THROATS! BRING OUT THE DESTROYERS!!"

As if on cue a loud roar of cheers rang out through the ship and the men proceeded to move the rest of the cannons out of the way before bringing out two cannons different than all the others. They had been made bigger and with wider openings with extreme reinforcing so that they would be able to withstand the blasts of launching the special cannons. Deadeye laughed crazily as he and the group loaded the cannons, once they were loaded he aimed the cannons as best he could at the other ship before making a motion for the others to stand back as they all did. He stood in the middle with two torches and lit the fuses, everything seemed to slow down as the massive cannons shot almost in sync. As the two balls flew through the sky everyone held their breath and then cheered as they saw the opposing ship rock back and forth showing it had been hit and then after a few seconds fire burst forth from the bottom of the ship up sending wood and bodies everywhere as the roar echoed through the ship again. The opposing ship had been torn into three as it began to sink into the sea while masked in fire, the survivors jumping overboard or burning to death in the following seconds or left to die in the cold harsh sea.

"AHAHAHAHA Lets see ow those bastards like that! No one survives my specialty cannons!" Deadeye had rejoiced and picked up his stuff before heading up the stairs to help with any fighting left. As he walked up the stairs though he could see that everyone of the northern pirates had been killed, disabled or captured already. It was a sad thing because his cutlass had been begging to gorge itself on more blood.
 

October Knight

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Muffled yells and screams of pain echoed down through the main deck. A small smile broke over the Captain's face as he heard "BRING OUT THE DESTROYERS!" from the gunners station, a small tinge of excitement and anticipation running through his body.

"Aye, that'll end them it will..." He mused, reaching for the small bottle of rum in his coat pocket. He twisted the cap by gripping it with his teeth and turning the bottle clockwise. The cap fell to the ground, but 9lives ignored it. He took a long and savoring drink, realizing how close they had come to being overrun, as a couple nameless members of the crew ran past, obviously late to the battle.

"To Arms!! You lazy whores!! The Battle be almost over and you two haven't yet drawn your weapons!!" 9lives barked in his deep, bellowing voice.


"Aye, Captain." The two men snapped off a quick response before nearly falling over on their up to the main deck.

"..........So what's the trouble up there captain? Having a bit of fun with the northern pirates?"

9Lives regarded his prisoner with a mix of stern interest and vague curiosity. He squinted one eye, unable to make out her facial expression in the dark. He was slightly baffled at her apparent bravery in the face of danger. After all she was a princess, no doubt sheltered during her upbringing, but she was obviously not shaken in the least by the battle, or to a lesser degree, him.

"Aye, your majesty."
Said the captain with gruff sarcasm "and you would be wise to remember that you are nothing more than precious cargo to me, should it come down to it, I would gladly give you up for the right price." He grinned, exposing several gold teeth "Oh, that's right. I AM giving you up for the right price" He rocked back on his heels and peg, holding his stomach and bellowing in mock laughter, for the moment the battle was just a blue in the background. He became stren again "Your majesty." he said again, the sarcasm slowly fading from his voice " Whatever troubles you are running from, your father, an arranged marriage, whatever it may be. Trust me it is better than dying. Especially here among the likes of us." 9lives was sincere, a rare occurrence for the gnarled Captain.

The captain turned, as he heard footsteps approaching. He tightened his grip on the pepper box, then relaxed as Rhorie, the carpenters apprentice, entered the prison area.

"Are these Northern rouges aware we have such... precious cargo aboard?"

The Captain thought about this. He had kept it pretty quiet about the princess until now. And since she had been on the run when 9lives captured her, he highly doubted that she had told anyone about her royal background, but it wasn't entirely impossible. The Captain looked at the young carpenters apprentice, she had brought up a good point. "Loyal, ye be. And a valuable member of the crew." He offered Rhorie the bottle of rum, then He shifted his gaze back to the Princess "Tell us your highness." Threatening sarcasm back in his voice now, sharp as a razor. "Does anyone else know of the cargo we carry?"
 

LadyHarpy

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

"Better? Heh, I doubt it. I'd rather die in an adventure than rot away in that damned castle and be forced to share a bed with a man who probably twice my age if not more. Besides, you have no idea what you are getting yourselves into Captain...My father does not play fair. If you were smart you'd toss me over board and head to southern waters." She said, her voice calm and almost caring.

Tabitha looked up for a moment when the young woman came in, slightly surprised that there were women on this boat. She had not seen any since she had been dragged down there into the cell. She couldn't help but glare at her slightly though, since it seemed that she was in on this as well. It seemed that there was no escape for her at all. When the captain turned toward her once more she couldn't help but smile a bit, toying with his worry was far more fun than it should have been.

"I can guarantee that I did not tell anyone about my leaving, but I cannot guarantee that my father didn't. Like I've said before captain, my father doesn't play fair." She said as she laid back on the bunk and put her hands behind her head to rest a little more.
 
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Silverwolf

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

The Captain looked at her with an expression of pride on his scarred face. "Loyal, ye be. And a valuable member of the crew." he announced to her, holding out a flask of rum to her. Grinning inwardly, Rhorie accepted both the praise and the rum with a sharp, thankful nod. Taking a large gulp of the fortifying alcohol and feeling the burn deep in her throat as the liquid coursed down it, she grinned outwardly. Suddenly, the Captain turned around so he was facing the prison behind him. Rhorie abruptly remembered the Princess again and tightened her grip on her trusty cutlass.

"Tell us your highness." snarled the Captain, his voice containing an undercurrent of sarcasm that made Rhorie smirk again."Does anyone else know of the cargo we carry?" Rhorie spun halfway around so she was mostly facing the prisoner in the cell, but also partially turned to the door - she didn't want any nasty surprises. Squinting a little in the low light of the jail, Rhorie percieved the Princess - a young girl, around her own age but dressed in mighty strange garb. The Apprentice Carpenter couldn't help but feel another pang of sympathy, or empathy, she never could remember which was which, for the girl - their ages must be so similar, yet their lives couldn't be more different. Rhorie noticed the reported hull-fault and assessed it quickly with sharp eyes. Not an urgent matter, it could lie dormant as an excuse for when she needed it.

"I can guarantee that I did not tell anyone about my leaving, but I cannot guarantee that my father didn't. Like I've said before captain, my father doesn't play fair." Was the Princess' cocky reply. She sounded relatively sure of herself despite her situation - being held captive by notorious pirates, who happened to be under siege by more pirates. Strange. She had assumed that, as heir to Royalty, she would have lived a sheltered life, unaware of the true dangers and hardships of the world, but her response didn't really encourage that idea. The Princess laid back on her bed, reclining as if she was back in her luxurious apartments. Rhorie couldn't help but scowl. Though she felt that she might just get on with the Princess should they ever need or want to talk, there were certain habits or ways the prisoner held herself that reminded Rhorie bitterly of her common origin - she was no Lady of the Court, no high-born spoiled brat, but here on The Cutlass, she held much, much more authority than the very Princess of the North. Briefly, Rhorie wondered about the last part of the Princess' answer - her father, the King, apparently didn't 'play fair'. Well, in this little game, Rhorie had no doubt that the Captain would be the most conniving and backstabbing party - it was a pirate's way, and easily beat the over-formal, regimented order of the King's dealings.

Abruptly a crashing sound was heard, then heavy footsteps getting closer. Rhorie readied herself for a Northern attack. She looked to the Captain who was gripping his pistol in a white-knuckled grip. He met her gaze and Rhorie nodded, promising she would obey his unspoken order with all she had. Protect the Princess. That was her objective. Any threat must be exterminated. Rhorie felt her body shift into a defensive stance, her muscles shifting automatically to heat with the low thrumming energy of the anticipation of battle.
 
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ShadowFiend

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

[SIZE=+1][/SIZE]
Being awoken by a great shaking Blue sat up from his cot and rubbed his head in the gunner's quarters. He was still in his pajamas when the sound occurred, but nonetheless he knew something had to have been wrong. He threw on his trousers and overalls without even bothering to grab his trusty hat and overcoat. He always sleeps with his weapons even in pajamas, so they were automatically on his body as he sprang up to attention.

"Blast! Curse my old person sleeping habits, it seems everyone is to arms up abroad and I'm sleeping in with my damn lack of hearing. DAMN IT ALL TO HELL! I need to stop talking to myself and get goin!" Brushing himself off and shaking away his exhaustion from lack of sleep, Blue runs up a flight of steps out from the gunner's cabin and rushes to the poop deck. Immediately as he leaves his quarters he is bombarded by a rather large fellow in black bloomers who maniacally waves a rapier at his right kidney, now that is NOT the way to wake someone up is it? Blue steps backwards in a quick shimmy, unsheathes The Crimson Tide and shoves the blade deep into the man's spine as he side steps his foe's failed surprise attack. "Now now, didn't your mother teach you to respect your elders? Really the nerve of some peo-" Blue is cut off by another man, this time a smaller sort, slashing towards him downwards with a butterfly knife. Blue grins and grabs the man's attacking arm, twists it, and then smashes the man over his head with the metal handle of his blade in his other hand. The man is knocked out cold like a domino. "And did I mention young lads, that I bloody HATE surprises! AND I HAVEN'T EVEN HAD MY CAFFEINE!" Blue shouts in aggravation while looking around at the battle going on near him. Much of the enemies have already fallen, he must have woken up later in the battle than he thought, hopefully 9 Lives doesn't notice his tardiness.

Looking behind him, Blue see's the entrance to the cells wide open and grows worried. He runs down and is relieved after seeing the captain and a fellow crew member protecting the princess, he jumps to attention noticing they are on guard for enemies whom are after the princess and her whereabouts. Without further adieu, Blue stomps to his comrades and stands side by side with them to help with his pistol now out ready to fire when needed. "9 Lives you old scallywag, it seems these imbeciles often misinterpret the power of an old fool like me huh cap'em? Let's show em what a few good years under our belts can do shall we good sir? I wanna go back to sleep and dream of the days of old where monsters twenty feet tall would try and gut me for fish food, not young lads attempting to win a battle that never begun." Continuing his cautious survey of the area, Blue keeps his defense up along side the captain and his crew mate. They will not lose this day!
 

October Knight

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Nautica's Cutlass rocked and swayed in the water, as if in protest of the battle. Already she had taken a fair amount of damage, and her main deck was soaked with blood. Luckily though she held tight through the battle, sustaining no serious damage. The Norther privateers ship, however, was quickly fading into a memory


View attachment 3422

The Mornings sun rose defiantly against the heavy fog, giving the crew of Nautica's Cutlass a fantastic view of their victory.



Meanwhile, in the prison chamber.


Captain 9lives was becoming more and more intrigued with the Princess, she was well spoken and proper, as was to be expected of royalty , but beneath her delicate exterior there was an underlying roughness that the Captain found fascinating. She would be a great person to have about the ship, Aye, though 9lives. In his many years at sea he had learned that most seadogs were either uneducated or undistinguished, most of the time both. And those that were, for lack of a better word, 'proper' , usually had no business being on a pirate ship at all. Finding someone with both of these qualities would prove useful, but the price on her head was too great for the Captain to consider keeping her around.

"Your father has something I want, and I definitely have something he wants, my dear." The rum was taking hold now, as 9lives, though not in the least bit incapacitated, was feeling a nice warm flush break out over his body. "And if he has the thought in his head to double cross me, he'll find out why they call me 9lives. I have proven resilient in the direst of situations, time after time, your highness."

Just then, heavy foot steps were heard coming down the stairs from the upper deck, the hollow echo in the hallway leading down to the cells made it impossible to distinguish exactly how many sets of legs they belonged to. The captain turned to Rhorie, who was already on guard. He again thought of what a valuable asset she was to the crew, and would no doubt reward her later. "Hold fast, Little one." He said to her, cation bleeding through concentration in his voice.

The footsteps came to a sudden stop and a scuffle was heard, a scream of pain, and then more footsteps came towards them. Instead of being greeted by those vicious northern brutes, The Captain let out a sigh of relief at the site of the old gunner, Blue. 9lives cringed, with a mix of humor and repugnance at the old sailors greeting. Blue was one of the only, if not THE only, member of the crew that wouldn't be locked up for calling The Captain a "Scallywag", but as it was, 9lives had a soft spot in his heart for the old seadog. He clapped him heartily on the shoulder.

"Blue!" Said the captain, his face breaking into a half smile half scowl, again his shinny gold teeth were visible."You almost caught a belly full of lead, you did." The Captain re holstered his weapon "I won't lock you up with the princess, although you should be since you wern't with the gunners crew during the battle!." He paused, looking at Rhorie and winking. It was obvious that 9lives was joking by this point. "Since you saved us from those northerners, I'll overlook it this time."


Up on the main deck
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Above them on the main deck, the sounds of sword play rang into the new born dawn. Severed limbs and fatally wounded lay all around, as the dying died and the living fought to bitter end.

Although the battle was more or less won by the fierce crew aboard the Cutlass, the remaining enemies were fighting to win an unattainable victory.
A last stand of sorts, with the only option being a watery grave in the wake of the Cutlass.

The Northern Privateers looked around, at not only their slain comrades, but also their sinking ship. Adrenalin and fire filled their veins as they made what would no doubt prove to be their final charge.




Eben's heart was pounding like a kick drum in his chest. He felt like his ears were about to explode form the steady, thunderous BOOM of the cannons. Later, when the adrenaline wore off, he would discover that his jaw, on the left side, was dislodged, but for the moment adrenalin masked the pain to a dull throb. As the wounded man, who throat Eben had just cut, fell to the deck a loud war cry was heard as the remaining Northerners charged in a last ditch effort. Eben steadied himself, a bloodthirsty grimace plastered across his face. His Weapon clutched in his hand, and the steely edge of battle clutched in his heart. He picked out a Challenger and raised his weapon, bringing it down hard, but was met with the clang of metal on metal. He drew back again, this time stabbing straight to the chest. His thrust was met with the sound of gushing blood and tearing flesh. He rammed it in, still further, feeling blood spray across his face. Using his foot, he kicked the dying northerner to the ground, spitting on his body in disgust.

For many aboard the Cutlass this was more than just a battle. They were fighting for their home, their livelihood, their love: The Nauttica's Cutlass. For Eben, this was no doubt the case.







 
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