Quick Weekend Game: Pirates

[Ochalla]

(It's Talk Like a Pirate Day on Sunday, September 19th, in honor of that it's time to set sail on the high seas.)

Port of Despair was what they referred to this rum soaked town. There was no law. The strongest survived, and that's all there was. It was a good place to hide yourself, sell something, or just relax.

If there was ever a more miserable place for some clean cut law abiding soul, it was not on earth. This was a pit of wanton affection, bought and sold. There was little if anything that was sacred, and yet people came here.

In one of the taverns, there was a rowdy bunch singing. The sang of their mistress the sea as they drank.

"Ho there stranger, you buying or selling?"

 

[Aragon-Draco]

"Neither, as I have no money. I am wishing I was home with my mate!" The Tall man, Michael, continued walking in the same direction.

 

[Seiji]

Bartholomew Hawking, known as Blue Bart on the High Seas, walked confidently down the gangway of the Majesty Blue. He stepped onto one of the many docks of the Port of Despair and struck a confident pose, his back to the wind. Blond hair whipped around at the nape of his neck underneath the heavy brown and gold-trimmed tricorn, and the blue-steel of his eye patch gleamed brilliantly in matching twinkle of his mischievous blue eye. He let the vibrant blue of his heavy coat whip around him for a second more before he continued his confident stride into town, leaving behind his sleek frigate to his deckhands. A beacon of vibrant colour, it was apparent exactly why he was called Blue Bart.

He spoke with a moment to the fee collector on the dock, tossing him a doubloon after a grin from both, and continued his travel into town. It was a dirty cesspit of a Port-city; the finest there was! Raucous men yelled and cheered, drinking and firing weapons into the air. Whores hung from their necks and from banisters, yelling down their wares to passer-byers. Fights were roused among strangers, and enemies became allies only long enough to share a pint of rum and grog and other fine swill. A wretched hive of scum and villainy, the Port of Despair was. But caution? Caution was for the proper Navy man!

Throwing open the swinging doors to the smelliest, foulest, and loudest of the taverns he could find, Bartholomew shouted the words to the song the loud men were already singing, some diddy to their sea mistress. He cackled, ignored and embraced all at the same time by the mass of filthy men and women, and made his way to the bar.

"Something 'spensive, bar keep," he said before turning as a lull in the song came, "And a round on me!" he shouted in the pause.

Was there a cheer?

Oh yes, there was a cheer.

 

[Aragon-Draco]

Michael walked past the "Blind Bat Tavern" and heard the noise. Many rough-and-tumble sailors were drunk, and from his perspective that was strange, as the town bell had sounded 10:30am moments ago. He walked on. Not sure what would happen next.