The Gentlemen's Guide to Piracy Vol 1

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"Keep your wealth, mate," Michael said tossing the coin back to his feet. "Consider it payment for joinin' me crew. What say you?" He asked as he walked around the older man, taking him in and sizing him up and looking to see what sort of weapons he had on him. The man seemed, from his perspective, like an able bodied pirate who knew a thing or two about the waters. The way he even looked at it suggested he'd seen the beauty of the seas and yearned for it once again. Michael stopped in front of the man with a questioning eyebrow. A lot of his veteran crew mates had died within the short while he had been made captain of his father's ship, others he had to let go due to age, and now he needed a crew to replace them, the man was his first option at a new crew mate. "I'm Michael, by the by. Michael Hemmenway," he introduced himself as he rose his hand for a shake.
 
As Elizabeth walked down the path, she could feel the excitement in the air. Something was going down. Knowing Freland, several somethings. She walked right down to the docks, where she could spy two men on the beach, talking. A peculiar sight, especially in a place like Freland. She continued to walk, down to where her new vessel stood. It was a large ship, and it was obvious that it had once been a true maiden of the sea, but now it was covered in mould and barnacles, small patches of rot lined the boards, and the sails were ragged and untidy.

This was one challenge Elizabeth did not feel she was up to. But it was obviously the only ship about for sale, and she needed to get away from Freland, or she would die of boredom. Sure, further up from the shore was a nicer part of the settlement, where not everybody was a drunk, whore, sick or stupid, but they were all fighting amongst themselves. Freland had been a great place once, but now it was degrading. Slowly, rotting away, just like the ship.

It was time for Elizabeth to set sail again.
 
Nick gave this stranger a sharp look, who the hell does this bastard think he is? Thought Nicholas. Nicholas wanted to be part of a crew sure, but he was no idiot. This man comes out of nowhere, returns his coin purse and then asks a man he never met to join his crew? This was either a trap or the man was desperate. Nicholas stands up keeping his eyes on him "Which ship is yours?" He said. Nicholas needed to find out EXACTLY who this guy is before considering joining his crew.
 
Troy stood against the wall, he had been watching a friendly looking duel between a man and a lady, the conclusion leaving the man gracefully accepting his defeat. Troy had just finished his last bounty, some guy wanted him to kill a man for beating up his sons and mugging them, Troy even got the money he stole back. Now he was just waiting for his client to come with the money, while trying to keep his bloodied blade out of sight., attention's not something he wanted right now.

"Well, it looks like my client's not showing up anytime soon, hate to see him dead in some alley because of the job he gave me." Troy thought, he concluded that he might as well get a drink while he waited.
 
Michael looked at his unshaken hand and casually put it to his side and nodded towards his ship off in the distance. "There she is," he said, pride filling his voice. "The Red Crow, her name is. Beauty ain't she? So a yes, then?" He didn't bother waiting for a response and walked back towards the tavern his crew was in, his hand resting on top of rapier. "Wait for me on my ship, and don't steal anything or it'll be your hand, mate," he called back.

In the tavern, Michael gathered his crew and told those who were sober enough to carry those who were too drunk to walk or those who were knocked out. "Took you a long time to give a man his purse," his second mate said once they were outside the tavern and nearing their ship.

"Aye, and we might be gettin' ourselves a new crew member!"
 
Lucas, seeing that the woman was walking away after deftly defeating the poor sod who had challenged her, quietly followed her to see where she might be going. He figured that if he followed her long enough she would notice him and hopefully one of two things would happen. She would attack him, in which case he would defend himself then talk to her. Or, she would just talk to him and he could still talk to her. Either way he would get a conversation and learn more about this entrancing woman.
He saw her arrive at a ship, a bedraggled thing that didn't look seaworthy in the slightest, and realized she was probably about to board. He didn't want to risk her getting away without him learning something so he sprinted to her and grabbed her arm.
"Excuse me madam!"
 
Troy was about to take a nice long swing of his drink when he noticed a man walking off in the direction of the woman from before, he felt sorry for him, he might end up at the sharp end of her sword. Troy felt a little uneasy about the bloke, so he got up, left his money next to his drink, and walked off in pursuit of the man, he had a feeling something was fishy about him.
 
Nick found this guy way too eager, he looked upon the vessel, it was beautiful indeed. The ship's flag was what he was really looking for however, Flying no flag, it was obviously not bound to the service of the Empire or the Union. After a few minutes of weighing his options, he decided that he will give it a shot, but one sign of trickery and he would take off. He headed to his childhood home and grabbed his musket. He then made his way to an alleyway where he hid the dinghy he stole. After moving the cart through town, he launched it off at the beach and made his way to the ship at the port. He paid the dockworker to hoist his dinghy onto the side of the ship. He grabbed a sabre from the deck and attached the scabbard to his belt. It's not stealing if he is joining the crew is it not? He waited patiently on the ship, tugging at ropes to check their strength.
 
(Everybodies following meh o.o)
Elizabeth shrugs off Lucases grasp. "I think you would find yourself better off if you didn't touch me, boy." She uses the term mockingly, almost like an insult. "And what, do tell, would you want with me?" She looks down at Lucas, a mere boy, although only a few heads shorter than herself, a woman who had known naught but the seas her entire life, and was actually stronger than most men as such.
 
Lucas blinks a few times to clear his head. He wasn't quite prepared for her beauty up close. Or her attitude.
"Oh. Right. Madam, for lack of something better to title you, I saw with the ease you dispatched that fellow so soon before and would like to remark upon the amazing ability you show in swordsmanship." He took on a sort of a dreamy state. "Truly beautiful in every way"
 
Elizabeth was stunned by Lucas obsession with her. Sure, many men had sought after her, but most of them were old brutes, posh bastards, or the classic full of themselves jerks. Taken aback, she stammered for a reply. "Uh, uhm, sure kid. Thanks?" She slowly turned back to her ship. How will I even get this thing out of port? I guess I'll need to hire a crew, and then I'll have to get them to clear away the rot and mould, and then..... I suppose I can 'convince' somebody to lend me their skills in craftsmanship. Easy as pie. She sighed, entirely unsure as to whether or not her plan would even work.
 
"Oh, is that it..." Lucas looked down disappointed. Then he perked up with a previous idea he'd had
"Hey! You wouldn't happen to be needing anybody with any experience sailing would you? Or killing?"
 
Again taken aback, Elizabeth looked Lucas over. He had potential, but he also seemed fairly naive. A younger, less masculine her. He'd do just fine. "Sure, kid. I need a crew and some craftsmen to help repair the ship, if you can't help with, I need the barnacles scraped off the ship, and the boards that can't be helped taken out and replaced with stronger oak. I'm hoping to do as much as I can before setting sail......... tomorrow morning." Without even waiting for a reply, she begins to head off back towards the town to find crew. The bar would be a good start, she can, at the very least, get a few people to be the backbone, the general help. Then she would try to find craftsmen, preferably some weak willed ones who should either intimidate or 'persuade' into doing fixing the ship. Then, if she had time, she would look around for some better crew members to do what the weaker, drunker ones could not.
 
Lucas watches her walk off, his mind blank for a moment, overrun with information at actually being accepted. Then he realizes he still doesn't know her name. Oh well, all in good time dear boy. All in good time. He sets off to find some schmucks he can muscle into helping with the ships preparations, starting with the useless informant from before. He doesn't need a tongue to scrape barnacles. Plus, he STILL owes us.
(Lucas breaks the fourth wall for a moment saying: the strange person whom is always dictating his life is signing off for the night and wishes all a good night. Or morning. Or whatever time they are at.)
 
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Michael returned to the ship with his crew in tow and walked up to the quarterdeck and placed himself before the helm, shouting out orders to his men and general pirate gibberish and short rhymes to get his men riled up. "Where to, cap'n?" His second in command asked walking up beside him as the sails began to uncurl and the ship began to sail.

"We head south to the nearest port, we do," Michael responded over the clatter of the crew and their jobs. "I hear they've got some Bastori soldiers hiding themselves up there. We could get ourselves a bit o' gold.

"You there, new sod. What's yer name and what're ya good at?" Michael asked the new guy randomly; depending on what the new crew member could do, he would give him a job, it wasn't fit for him to be on his ship standing and gawking at his men while they worked. "You good at cooking? We need ourselves a cook, we do!"

"Why didn't you get one back at Freland, cap'n?" his second in command asked.

"Those sods can't cook, Tim! You know that as well as I do; they'll bloody kill us all with they're mucked up dishes, they will!"
 
S'nyia


It was setting up to be an absolutely horrid day. Already she'd witnessed the slave driver nearly beat a little boy to death for asking him if he could have some more food. S'nyia would've ripped the man's arms off if she had had her own free and hadn't been half starved herself. "Alright you beasts, up on your feet. We're headed to the square." Sneering, the slaver eyed his prizes. He was a very fat man and he often smelled of the mold growing in his multiple belly rolls. S'nyia, understandably despised the putrid man. If she had had any weapons, or even her hands free for that matter, she would've murdered him a long time ago. One by one the slaver had his men drag the slaves to his cart and hook them up to their respective places behind it. With hate behind her eyes S'nyia took the city in as she did every day, searching for an escape. The poor little boy next to her was sobbing as the cart was kicked into a slow walk and the shackles attached to their wrists were wrenched forward. This was the custom, the slaves were paraded through the streets as the slaver shouted out his sales pitches and then the slaves were tied to the posts in the square as the bidding wars began. Each slave was poked, prodded, and appraised like a prize stallion. It was wretched and she hated every single person who came to the auction. Walking along behind the cart she looked the people who dared to stare at her dead in the eye. "Slaves for sell!!" The slaver bellowed as they moved slowly down the street. "Auction at the block!" S'nyia resisted her chains, defiantly walking with her head held high. She was, after all, the daughter of the medicine woman. Even if that meant nothing to these foreign people. Eventually, the slaver stopped his cart at the block in the square, all the while yelling his pitches. When his men came to claim the woman and drag her up the steps and to the raised platform where she would be sold, she resisted. Like hell, they'd take her up there. Using her shackled wrists together she viciously hit one of the men across the mouth and bit the other when he tried to grab her. The people gathering around gasped and backed away from the scuffle, a few women even gasping and putting on a show as if they'd faint. With glee she noticed the bite mark she'd left on one of the men was bleeding. Her glee did not last long, however, as one of the men grabbed her by her hair and wrenched her backwards, towards the steps. The other took hold of a larger shackle the slaver had given him and placed it around her throat, viciously pulling on it as they tried to corral her onto the block. Choking, S'nyia had no choice but to submit. The men half dragged, half carried her up to the steps and attached her shackles to a post. She glared at the slave driver as he stepped closer to you. "You little witch," He spit in her face "You injured my men. You'll pay for that!" And with that he punched her in the jaw. S'nyia had to admit, for a fat man, he could hit. She spit blood and glared at the man with hatred. Smirking she spoke with a heavily accented voice. "Let anyone try to buy me now." Her words earned her another blow to the face and she quieted as blood oozed from her mouth. The auction had now begun. The slaver started with the others and slowly each slave, even the boy were brought forward, described as if they were a steer or pig and auctioned off until none remained but the small tribal woman. "Now I have a lovely piece. This woman is from a tribal land far away. You can see she has fire, no? I'm sure a few of you men would like that, eh?" The slaver laughed. "Let's start the bidding!"
 
Troy had overheard the conversation between the lady and the shady guy who was following her, they had talked about a crew, and the crap ship in the dock. A thought had started surfacing in Troy's mind.

"Well, if I can get my money from my client I'm free to go, then maybe I could hitch a ride with these two until I find a new client. Gotta be a damn sight better than the Privateer I have right now." Troy thought.

Troy had decided to ask the kid about the Ship, he seemed easier to talk to than the lady. He walked up behind the boy and grabbed his shoulder.
"Hey Kid, you got a minute?"
 
With blinding speed Lucas spun around and grabbed the strangers arm with one hand and put his other hands wrist blade to his throat. In a friendly manner he said,
"Explain, quickly, why you touched me and what you want."
 
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Troy smiled, he had expected a similar reaction.
"A Job, kid, that is what I want." He said, without batting an eyelid. He thought it was best to ask first, then defend himself if he needed to.
 
Lucas smiles in response, but doesn't move his knife just yet. "A job? I'm not really the kind of guy to run a ship." He thinks for a second and deftly removes the knife and steps back a little. "Sorry' I'm a little touchy. What kind of a job would you be looking for? I can't really speak for my current employer," he looks the man over, "but if you want to help me get some men to fix up that ship you're more than welcome to."
 
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