Edward D'Oyley stepped off the plank and onto solid ground. Port Royal. Finally under good English control. It had been a long time coming and he'd almost lost hope that it would happen while he was still in the West Indies. He would have been packing up and returning to the home isles if Admiral Penn had not seized the port and the rest of Jamaica from the perfidious Spanish. It was good to know that he could finally put his experience and hard work to some use; if those Spanish fools thought they had tasted defeat with this loss, then they were sadly mistaken. Edward D'Oyley would ensure that they tasted true defeat soon, very soon...not that the conquest of Jamaica had been much of a military feat. If anything, it had been a fiasco, a series of failures and blunders and sheer dumb luck on behalf of both the 'good' Admiral Penn and General Venables. They would no doubt meet with a most severe punishment once they returned to England, the Lord Protector Cromwell would not be best pleased with the losses incurred. Not that he was pleased with anything much, the little good-for-nothing usurper. Edward looked around himself uneasily, almost as if someone would read his mind and know of his true feelings towards the new order back home. Perhaps it was best not to think of such things, he had a job to do here after all.

As he waited, a few marines descended from the ship, a proud 32 gun frigate by the name of HMS Endymion, carrying the luggage he'd brought along from St Kitts. His wife and two daughters followed close behind. The two girls had grown so quickly, one couldn't help but wonder where all the time had gone. He'd have to find them both husbands soon, maybe when there was less pressure on him to get this place sorted. It wasn't too long before a carriage, two fine white horses in the lead, arrived and the doors swung open for the new governor of Jamaica and his family. Governor D'Oyley smiled to himself, this wasn't going to be easy, but by God, it was going to be interesting!

He turned to one of the soldiers as he loaded the bag onto the top of the carriage.
"You, what's your name?" he gestured to the man to come nearer. The man paused for a few seconds, looking at the governor with the discipline only Commander Hampshire's men seemed to have, which was a downright shame really, to think that a woman would be able to discipline this rabble where someone like Admiral Penn couldn't.
"Midshipman Arthur Gibson, m'lord," came the reply.
"Gibson, right. Take this note to Hampshire and tell her to resupply and set off as soon as time allows," the midshipman nodded before taking the note and heading back to the frigate. The governor turned back to the carriage and climbed in after his family. To think that he'd had to start dealing with problems from before he'd even set foot in Port Royal, but it didn't seem like the pirate scum were going to wait for him to settle in. News had come to him mere hours before they'd set off from St Kitts that a few merchants ships heading to Bermuda, and from there planning to head to the newly conquered Port Royal, had come under attack. This had been the third such attack on that particular trade route and it was going to be damaging to the growth of his new governorate if the pillaging continued. The Spanish had no business so far north, so it could be nothing other than pirates. Commander Hampshire was to patrol the waters south-east to south-west of Bermuda, and particularly the areas around Tortuga where the villains undoubtedly took their loot. He didn't want her to sink whichever miscreant was doing the pillaging though, no. That would be a waste.... He needed the pirate alive, he needed them all alive. He hadn't specified in the letter his reasons for this, and it was nothing Hampshire needed to concern herself with. She just needed to do as her superiors commanded, and he was her superior. Tortuga was pretty ungoverned, the Spanish had ransacked it not more than a few months back and the French had no governor there. She was to seize control of the port to...ensure the safety of English shipping in the area. He wanted it to be as bloodless as possible, he doubted the scum who dwelled there would want to start an all out war, so the seizure would be a simple one. At least in theory. And if it didn't work out, what was the loss of a woman and her ship in the greater scheme of things? No, this was perfect.

The governor sat back in his seat as the carriage continued along towards his new abode, and he couldn't help but smile. These were interesting times they lived in, and Port Royal was no doubt a very, very interesting place to be.

Not so far away from Port Royal was the equally interesting Tortuga. The port was currently the dream of all sort of villains. With the Spanish withdrawal due to English attacks on Spanish ports in the area, there was now no official government in the large town. The fall of Santaigo de La Vega, now Port Royal, to the English had given many pirated cause to stop their pillaging and make for what many saw as the pirate base in the area. It was always good, after all, to see how fellow villains were reacting to the news. The fact that Port Royal was particularly vulnerable at this time, and the English were particularly rich meant that there was potential here for good business - if the English were willing to employ pirates. And word was out that the man chosen to be governor, an Edward D'Oyley, was renown for his willingness to turn to...unorthodox methods. The dread pirate Roche Braziliano himself has been drawn to Tortuga, his hatred for the Spanish and the idea of making even more money out of destroying them simply irresistible.

"So you're telling me that this governor is certain to be wanting our...'help' as it were?" the tavern keeper licked his dry lips and nodded hesitantly. A man in his late forties, Samuel Higgs, usually referred to as Sam or just barkeep, was perhaps one of the most well-informed men in the entire Caribbean.
"Yeah, there's no doubting it. Edward D'Oyley is a well known...err...cooperator...with those who are not graced with the favour o' the law," he raised the piece of eight to his mouth and gave it a little bite. The man he was speaking to was perhaps in his early thirties, sporting a neat moustache and shoulder long, straight black hair, and there was no denying the man was a pirate. He raised his bottle to his lips and took a mighty swig.
"And does he pay well, this D'Oyley, eh?" his cruel eyes were fixated on the barkeep.
"Well, I wouldn't know, all who ever worked for him sailed off and never came back. Probably got paid so much they could go retire somewhere and live the good life," pocketing the silver piece, Sam picked up a tankard and began scrubbing it. It was already clean - or as clean as he could get it - but looking at Braziliano for an extended period of time could not be good for a man's health. By God, the eyes on the man could curdle milk.
"Yeah, or maybe they retired to a watery grave with a happy send off from Eddy," Sam knew Braziliano's unpredictable nature, and he became even more unpredictable when drunk. The last thing he needed was an angry Braziliano in his tavern.
"Well, only one to find out, eh Roche, you've never been one to shrink away from risk-taking," the dread pirate's eyes bored into the barkeep once more.
"Yeah, but am not an idiot Sammy boy, and there lies the unbridgeable difference between everyone else and me, now stop talking serve my friends here," the dread pirate gestured to a black-haired young man who had been sitting beside him all along. Sam stared at the young man, not at all happy to be seeing him again.
"Jim!" Braziliano was staggering off with his bottle in hand, "where's Jim?" he shouted as he walked out of the tavern, slapping the pert bottom of a red-head who happened to be within reach, and his voice could still be heard a minute or so later as he went searching for his crew-member, "there's nothin' like a drink with Jim!"

With the dread pirate gone, the mood in the tavern seemed to lighten and chatter started up again. Sam turned to the man who was still sitting before him.
"So, you again eh? Back to pay me back for all that trouble you caused, hmm?" there was a wry smile on the barkeep's face as he spoke, and he set a tankard before the man, "I'll add that to your tab," he laughed before turning to the next customer.

As it would seem, the balance of power shifts once again on the seas, the great powers of yesterday don't appear to be so powerful today, and those who are rising today may be the most powerful allies of the future - if the correct choices are made now.

I smiled seeing branzillo finally leaving, he was nosier then a damn dog. I ordered some more rum for my men celebrating getting a new ship today, although I made sure we had enough money to actually buy the ship. I held my bottle of rum drinking it happily, I did hear about that change of power with port royal. im also getting the sense that even though me and my men loved this place we couldn't stay here long we would need to leave eventually before all hell broke loose here. once I finished my bottle of rum I ordered another to go "lets get our new ship lads!" I called out and they cheered happily. we all got up me and my 50 men left the tavern at once. I still remember being raised my one of the great pirates, I knew I had to become a legend to see him again and show him that his time wasn't wasted. we left the tavern and walked down the street to see the loveliness of debauchery everywhere. I walked over to the harbor master and I paid a good price for our new brig and I ordered my men to start setting everything up and move all our supplies

A gentle swell rocked the small rowing boat as it steadily approached the docks. The rowing boat had come from a small sloop anchored in port, from this distance the sloops elegant lines spoke of it's speed and power. Cris spat overboard at the thought, there were no guns behind the gunports and the hull had seen hard service before he acquired it, it likely wouldn't last two years without refitting.
"Alright lads, Jenkins your dealing with the harbour master then you're free. Will, you go find rooms at the usual then you're free." he said passing a few coins over to Jenkins, a big brute of a man pulling on the oars with all the strength of an ox. Jenkins cursed as he fumbled the oar to grab the coins and the boat spun tightly as Will continued rowing, with a grunt Jenkins resumed rowing and with great heaves drew the boat back on course.

The boat gently bumped into the wharf and Cris hopped onto solid~ish land for the first time in at least a week.
"Don't cause no trouble, I'll catch up with you tonight" he said with a lopsided grin and then he was off making his way into Tortuga, it was said here you could sell anything and with a hold full of tobacco Cris most fervently hoped that to be true.

Jim sat on the harbor near Braziliano's Braque, bored out of his mind. He was currently working on a sad carving, the drift wood was not cooperating with the poor man, and his project looked like all but the cute little ship it was supposed to. "Ugh," muttered the pirate as he through the piece of wood at a small little trade ship, a Pinnace next to his spot. He was about to gather some rocks to through at a rat that he had stirred when he threw his failed mini-boat, when he thought heard someone calling in the wind. Jim hurried into town, were he thought it came from, only to find that the place was full of yelling and noise. He was about to leave when he spied his captain outside the tavern, Braziliano was drunk and calling out Jim's name. Uh oh, he thought to himself as he silently cursed. It never turned out well for the Jim when captain wanted a drink with him. As he approached Braziliano, he had an idea. He realized that his captain wouldn't notice if he was drinking out of an empty tankard or bottle, why hadn't he thought of that before?

"Hey captin!" he called out to the drunk man, running towards him and waving a hand, " I heard you were hankering for a drink?" Jim began to notice how hot it was as he began to see how drunk Braziliano really was, It is going to be an interesting day. Usually the man would be excited by at the prospect of action, but no one would be excited to have to mess with a drunk Braziliano. Most people would be scared to have to see him while he was sober.

The captain of His Majesty’s Ship the Endymion looked out the glass windows of her cabin in deep thought. It was just past midday and the sun was streaming through the windows, illuminating the captain’s cabin with a brilliant golden glow. Fir Hampshire’s thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the cabin door and the voice of her first lieutenant.

“Mr. Gibson passed the word on the way out. You called, captain?”

“Yes. Come in,” said the captain, without removing her eyes from the window.

Opening the door in a brisk, but still smooth swoop, the first lieutenant Robert Hudson entered the room. As per normal, he removed his hat and placed it behind his back as he waited for his captain to speak.

Finally removing herself from the window, Fir looked at her first officer with an emotionless expression before removing a folded note from the breast pocket of her black peacoat. Producing a subtle frown, she handed the note to Hudson.

“Mr. Hudson, what do you make of this?”

Fir watched as her second-in-command’s face progressively redden in anger as he read the note. Robert was a very vocal man and had the unfortunate habit of showing his emotions… very indiscreetly. He seemed to reach his boiling point as finished reading the letter, gently setting down the letter on the captain’s desk before opening his mouth to launch into what Fir could only guess to be a very long and strongly worded tirade.

“Unorthodox, they say. What a load of stinking horse chattel--! D’Oyley-- He’s incompetent, rude, condescending, that’s what he is. To send a single frigate to capture a port! Tortuga! Bullocks! And to give a letter, through Mr. Gibson? Why, he had all the time in the world to speak--“

“Robert, that’s quite enough,” interrupted Fir, with a succinctly placed cough. “I do find it unfortunate, however, that Mr. D’Oyley was not acquainted with Mr. Gibson in the week he was aboard.”

She noted the phrases concerning the capture of pirates oddly worded; it was general practice to capture, not kill pirates and bring them to port for prosecution. It was oddly specific of him to simply restate common practice. There was definitely an ulterior motive to this, one that Fir had a hunch on but decided against mentioning to her first officer.

Pulling out the seat of her desk, Captain Hampshire sat down in her chair, motioning for Hudson to do the same. At the same time, she produced a quill and parchment.

“We will be in Port Royal for a fortnight to replenish supplies and to allow the crew some leave. We will, naturally, resume our patrol of the West Indies, and conduct ourselves as per normal in the manner that is expected of a Royal Navy frigate.”

She continued to write while speaking to the lieutenant. “Of course, the matter of Tortuga will have to be addressed in some manner; the order is vague at best.” Since the order implied and gave authorization to command a military expedition against the port of Tortuga, she would have to assemble an expeditionary force of seizing and holding Tortuga. She would write Sir Penn and request additional ships and a marine detachment, under the auspices of the governor. “I will request aid from Sir Penn. If D’Oyley objects to additional aid, he will have to explain himself why he is sending merely 220 men to capture Tortuga. In the meantime, we will patrol Tortuga and gather intelligence, and take action as the situation commands.”

The captain handed Robert a letter, neatly folded and sealed with wax. “Correspondence for the governor. Do make sure you give that to a dock official; if the governor did not have the time to approach me on matters as important as this, then I don’t believe I have to the time to pay him a housewarming visit to acknowledge.”

Fir knew D’Oyley did not expect a single ship and its captain to take Tortuga, but by god, he would have Tortuga and eat its cake one way or another.

A devilish grin on his face, Riley jumped, he had been on the edge of his seat for this whole sail, literally, he jumped and fell from a deck he was sitting on, landing six feet down from where he had originally been, he had never been the most graceful of people but he didn't want to dwell on that. As he hit the ground his legs crumpled beneath him and he fell to the ground, falling back on his ass. Muttering curses he sat back up, a hand now in front of his face. It belonged to one of his crewmates and he grabbed it, pulling himself up, "thanks."
The grimace of pain turned into a grin once again.
Now as they docked he ran, he had been waiting to get off the ship for weeks now, as much as he loved the sea, his legs felt like jelly at this point, and that fall didn't help.
His captain had a soft spot for him, maybe it was how young he was or how innocent he seemed to be, either way Riley usually got away with whatever he wanted, so, when he ran off, ready to go to a tavern, he knew he knew his captain wouldn't be mad.

As he walked down the street, his baggy pants pulled up to his knees and his tank top hanging loosely on his shoulder, his bare feet slapping on the road, he noticed people selling fruits, jewelry, and various other items on the side of the road, as profitable pirating was, Riley didn't have any money on him, and when he saw a silver necklace he knew he had to have it, he walked by, nonchalantly, and grabbed it off the shelf while the seller wasn't looking, unfortunately someone else saw, and the chase was on.

Almost a half hour later and Riley hid under a bridge, quite a commotion going on above him because of the silver he stole, nonetheless, he had it and it now laid in his pocket, giggling, he leaned his head against the bridge support, closing his eyes and smiling to himself. It was good to be back on solid land.
He would have to go to the tavern soon to order a room, but for now, hiding was the best thing to do.

Along the side of the road small time traders sold their wears, some had makeshift stalls some sat on threadbare rags. The array of things for sale was staggering, jewels, weapons, curses, the thousand ill gotten gains of a hundred different pirate ships from all over the Spanish main piled along a street and sold for whatever price the seller thought they could get. Around some stalls large men with cudgels and watchful eyes stood guard. The crowd thronged along the street, the shouts of sellers trying to be heard and the viscous haggling as men fought for every penny filled the air.

Ahead a commotion broke out as a man grabbed at a stall and then flew off baggy pants trailing in the wind as the stalls guards made after him shouting for help from the crowd, what help they thought they'd get in Tortuga Cris couldn't say though in the confusion wrought by the spectacle he did manage to sidle up beside the stall and pocket two expensive looking rings. If no one was buying Tobacco he was going to have a hard time paying his crew, he whistled a jaunty tune as he strolled away down the street.

I watched as my men loaded up all the powder and resources they had on them and put them on the brig as he watched his skull flag waving in the air above the brig feeling proud to have a ship like this. once I signed all the papers saying I gave up my ship to the harbormaster and that I was taking this ship as my flagship I made sure to keep track of my extra money just in case as I told the men that we would set sail for greater plunder as the men cheered and started to get the ship ready to leave port as I went over to my captains cabin and set everything up the way I like it as we got ready to sail from Tortuga.

Tortuga, the Isle of the Turtle. The port of Cayonne was ever the den of inequity, scum and villainy and it was home. Lucy Dunaway strode the hard packed earth that was one of the roads. It was a fortress of an island, the north face a long unbroken line of scalable cliffs. Only the south held a harbour and even then, larger ships, those of seventy guns or more could not fjord the sand bar of the relatively shallow harbour. It was a near perfect place for pirates. Chevalier de Fontenay ruled this port with an iron fist from his fort that loomed over the harbour. He had taken over lordship of the fort on behalf of France after the previous governor was killed by his own henchmen over a mistress. He was supposed to bring order to the region and prevent piracy. He had instead gone independent like others before him, becoming a buccaneer king.

This was where she lived. Lucy, or Loosey Lucy as she was often called was a misbegotten bastard child and whore, a beautiful buxom thing but a whore none the less. She moved through the marketplaces of Tortuga, her crimson hair glimmering warmly like burnished copper. She adjusted her parasol and then the black pirate's cap she wore, a left behind souvenir of a drunkard pirate who had been so sloshed that she had taken him for all he was worth. She had very fair skin and she wasn't wanted to avoid becoming tanned. Fair skinned women were in more demand as whores than those of darker skin like those who worked the plantations. She then adjusted the corset, ensuring her ample assets were well displayed. The dried earth was warm beneath her bare feet, for boots or shoes were far too expensive for one of her meager earnings. She would not yet be able to afford a new pair for a fortnight at least.

She had just awakened and was on her way towards the local tavern, for those who could afford to drink while the sun was high overhead often had coin for a quick tumble. It was a meandering walk for she had no particular need for haste. Thus, she noted, with a chuckle, a young pirate attempting to sell tobacco. The fool. The main product of export here on Tortuga was tobacco. The plantations north of the town proper cultivated little else. People came to Tortuga in order to buy tobacco at a cheap rate- not to sell it. She rather suspected that he would have find he had little by way of coin to spend on whores.

“Jim!” The face of Braziliano, clouded over with the glaze of alchohol, brightened up in recognition as he saw his fellow pirate approach him.

“Jim, my friend,” repeated the drunk, but still dread pirate. He raised his bottle and took a long swig of rum, before wrapping his arm around Jim. His eyes fell upon the old bottle that Jim had, and hunched over, in a fit of laughter.

His breath reeked of alcohol as he spoke again, nearly in the pirate’s face.

“Jim, Jim. Are ye too broke to throw ol’ Sammy boy there another shillin’ for a bottle o’ rum? Your ol’ captain not payin’ enough for you, eh?” With another exaggerated motion, he chugged the bottle of rum before thrusting the bottle of gold-colored liquor into the crewman’s hands.

“Well, I got a proposal for ya Jim, and you don’t go around and be objectin’ about it neither, or I’ll have yer head. Word has it that this D’Oyley, the new gov’ner in Port Royal, might be, let’s say, sympathetic to our cause. Now you see, I’m all settled in nice here in Tortuga for a bit, so I want ye to get me ship provisioned –be fast about it, no more than half’a fortnight—and see how close Eddy is in with us. Ye got command for a week, Jim.”

Braziliano gave another hearty laugh. “And that means celebration, Jim! I’ll buy ye a whole round, as much as ye want!”

---

The HMS Endymion, resupplied, and refreshed, was two days out of Port Royal. With topgallants set and a favorable wind blowing, the English frigate was fast on its way to the coast of Tortuga. On a fair Thursday evening, Captain Hampshire and her ship had come across a small pirate sloop, armed but no match for the heavily armed warship. Its bearing indicated it was headed for Tortuga, likely fat with plunder after a successful raid on local shipping. The sighting of its masts would start the motions of Fir’s grand plans for the capture of Tortuga.

“One shot will do, Mr. Anson. Let’s not waste powder and shot.”

“Yessir. One shot, Mr. Johnson,” yelled the gunnery officer, after tipping his hat in acknowledgement of his captain. A moment later, a shot rang out, and a 12-pound shot flew over the bow of the pirate vessel.

Like clockwork, the enemy vessel faltered slightly, and then hove over to port in surrender. A moment later, the infamous black flag of the sloop slowly lowered, in jerky fashion to signify the end of the short-lived engagement. There would, naturally, be no other outcome for the pirates in the face of the devastating broadside of a 32-gun frigate.

“Well done, Mr. Johnson,” said Fir, standing on the starboard railing of the frigate. Robert Hudson was alongside, as was midshipman John Anson, who had recently been granted duties as a gunnery officer.

“The glass, if you please Robert,” continued the captain in her usual cool demeanor. With a nod, Mr. Hudson, who had been looking through his glass, handed over the small brass instrument the captain. “Do you fancy that vessel large enough for our purposes?” whispered the first lieutenant, as Fir looked through the glass.

The sloop was definitely a smaller vessel, perhaps 21 meters in length. It was named the Orient Fortune, and from what Fir could see, was probably rated at eight guns, probably 6-pounders. For all intents and purposes, it was a fine ship, and certainly one of the vessels that had been a thorn in the side of Port Royal shipping. With a silent yes, she nodded. The Orient Fortune would be a fine vessel indeed.

“Mr. Anson, get you and your men ready and prepare a prize crew. I want all the pirates off that vessel and aboard by sundown and the sloop alongside in an hour. Chop to it, we don’t have all day for you gaze at a little dinghy with your spyglass now, Mr. Anson!”

"Okay men I want this ship to shine by daybreak! nobody slack off understand?" I called out and my men called back "Aye sir!" and they went to work as a few men grabbed brooms and mops to start swabbing the deck while others went to the sails to make sure their wouldn't be any complications whenever I called for short sails or full sails in the middle of a fight. With some of the supplies we had I had grabbed a bottle of rum from one of our crates and I started to drink it glad I had men that would trust me with their lives same way I trust mine to theirs. I went into my captains study and I grabbed my navigational maps from one of my drawers, thankfully all my drawers had locks on them that I used my key for which I always kept on my person. I laid down the maps on my desk and I started to examine how long it would take for my men and I to get to the Spanish colony of Santiago. I grabbed my compass from my shirt pocket and started to examine my maps, I had a good 1000 left after buying this brig thanks to my master. I had originally made the sloop myself with some shipwrights thankfully it wasn't to bad since it got me to Tortuga. I drank my rum as I concentrated on getting our coordinates right so we wouldn't get lost, I had to become a feared pirate and sink ships and gather treasures to prove I am and always will be the greatest pirate that surpasses all others. My men made sure to keep busy although I wasn't against them having a drink or two as long as they kept working and were piss ass drunk since I would need them moderately sober in case someone tried to attack Tortuga. I wasn't entirely sure if their would be an attack on Tortuga since this was a pirate haven but what I did know was that if their was a change in government somewhere near Tortuga in this case Port Royal then they would want to make an example of any pirate they would come across. Honestly I hate those damn politicians and their captains thinking that because we chose to live like free men that they can stomp and criticize us well I would never take that lying down.

Cris watched as the last of the tobacco was hauled across the deck and lowered down into the waiting Pinnacle. Finding a buyer had been easy enough, demand was always high across the ocean and he could afford to undersell the plantations with the way he'd acquired the tobacco.
There was a shout from the pinnacle and they pushed off, slowly they drifted away from his sloop until there was enough room between them to use oars, there was another shouted command and the oars dropped into the water. Cris turned to look at his ship, Airsprite she was called, the decks were well cared for even if the worn planks told of the ships industrious life, his crew lounged around on the deck resting after lugging the cargo about, his eyes slid to the 8 new additions to his ship. Falconet's and older than he at that! naturally he'd insisted they be test fired before they were allowed anywhere near his ship and a good thing at that, one of the tested cannons had burst sending redhot shrapnel in all directions, a miracle no one had been hurt. The cannons had been part of the payment for the tobacco, the rest had been paid in manufactured goods that were high in demand among the natives and money, his share of the money was hefty enough to see him steady for a good few months though it wasn't the windfall he'd been hoping for when he'd acquired the tobacco. He glanced at the guns again thinking about the 12 extra crew he was going to have to find, with a grimace he mentally lowered his expectations of how far his share would take him, perhaps a week of good living.

"Mathews, Henry! Get the boat, I find myself suddenly parched. To the Tavern with us!"

Maria inhaled lightly as the wind blew past her. It carried with it the smell of smoke, rum, and sweat. She loved the smell of the smoke and rum but oh so hated how Tortuga always smelled of sweat. Marias took a rag out of her belt and put it up to her nose. It smelled of her perfume and had a slight smell of rum which made Maria wish for the Phoenix to dock faster. "Hey! I want this boat docked and unloaded in twenty minutes. If you are even a minute over, it is going to be docked from your pay. Now get moving!" Maria yelled at her crew. The crew instantly rushed to haul up fifteen crates of rum as they ship was docked. Maria watched the crew for a few minutes before leaving to find a bar and start drinking. Maria walked through the streets and glared at a few mien who started walking towards her as if she was a prostitute. Several of them persisted and followed her into an inn.

The men sat themselves around her in a half circle with their breaths smelling heavy of rum. "How's it goin' baby? Ya wanna have some fun?" One of the men slurred out. The bar keep, looked at the men and back at Maria without taking an eye off a group of six men that walked in. The six men were from Maria's crew and noted the group of men around her. Maria took her hand to her belt and grabbed her double barrel pistol. As soon as she raised it to bash the man in the face, he grabbed her hand. "A fighter aye, I do lover me a fighter" The man said as he licked Maria's hand. The man then got hit it the head with the hilt of a rapier that one of Maria's crew had. "Hands of our boss ya drunkard. If you knew who ye were dealing with you would have ran. Now get running" yelled the Crew member as he slashed the man's free hand. The men who had gathered around Maria dispersed quickly, except of the man who had been knocked out.

"Thanks for the help but what do you think you are doing off the boat? If you aren't done unloading I am going to kill you." Maria said to the crew members that had gathered around her. The crew members talked over each other as they tried to come up with an answer. After a few minutes, one of them smacked the others and cleared his throat. "We came to tell you that there is word going about that there is supposedly a man looking to hire pirates and the such." said the big crew member who had smacked the others. Maria looked away as she drank from her glass of rum before answering. "Well, then we shouldn't have problems. We are just business people and I doubt he has much need for smugglers. Now get back to work you buffoons!" Maria yelled at them. They were idiots to go about telling her rumors that didn't really matter to people in her business.

Lucy was more than a little displeased with the actions of Maria. The woman had quickly disenfranchised her business prospects with just a few quick words. She'd been showing that small group of sailors some leg when the captain had just waltzed in like some sort of dominus into his vestibulum and sent the slaves a scattering with but a word. She'd been listening to the conversations and had been rather surprised to hear that Mara's crew were not actual pirates. This could prove of interest to some of the pirate captains. Maybe they'd pay well for the privilege of learning about a ship ready for the plundering.

The red headed whore considered what had been discussed, dwelling upon how she might use the information she had to best advantage. She dragged her index finger across the bottom of her lip, dragging the ruby stained flesh to one side. Her green eyes glittered with possibilities.

Come to think of it, she had to remember though that her ship, the Phoenix they had called it, was currently being unloaded. That meant it wouldn't be carrying any cargo of worth until it next hit port. No, what she needed to learn was where the Phoenix was headed next. Then she could sell that information to a real pirate and that pirate could catch the Phoenix as it shipped from that port, fully laden, for its next destination. Yes, that would be worth a pretty penny. Yes, it would, particularly if she included that the captain of this vessel was of considerable beauty and a prize in and of itself.

At the door to a likely looking inn Cris was almost shoved off his feet as a gaggle of drunk looking men half-ran out the door complaining about 'bloody pirates' the door swung shut behind them and as they ran down the street, he gave the door a curious look before walking forward and pushing it open, He stood in the doorway for a moment taking in the inn but then he had to jump out the way of another group of men as they too made for the door in some considerable haste mumbling something about their captain.

Mathews and Henry joined him inside a moment later and they made for a table in the corner of the room. He studied the patrons on his way across the room, A likely looking redhead sat alone and Cris gave her a considering look and a grin before continuing on to the table, around another table the chairs had all been pushed back as if the people sitting in them had left in some haste, perhaps where all those strange men had came from, now a single woman sat there alone, odd happenings indeed.

The server soon came to their table and the sound of chatter and drinking filled their corner of the inn.

After a few hours my quartermaster came in and told me "captain the deck is clean and the sails are set on your command" He said and I nodded in approval at him "alright then, tell the men to hoist the sail and seat a course for Santiago in the west." "aye sir" He told me as he went outside and told the men "alright men captain says to set course for Santiago!" He called out and the men cheered then he started to direct the men "Hoist the main sail and get us out of the docks!" He called as the men quickly went to work getting the ship ready for her maiden voyage so to speak as I stayed in the captains cabin to make sure we stayed on course and avoided any nasty surprises from any privateers or storms as I kept checking my compass and maps while drinking some rum from time to time. I may only have 50 men but damn it they were good men and I had no doubt that we could take on whatever the kings navy tried to throw at us. I had a feeling that as long as we got out of this beautiful pirate haven we would be safe, considering our course was towards Santiago a well known Spanish colony as long as my men didn't do anything stupid we would be safe their for a little while. Their isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish to go back home to San Juan but that was a different life. Its not the one I live now after all and I wouldn't change my life for anything.

Now this was a bit of a dilemma. The man who was eyeing her, appraising her value she assumed, had taken a table with two additional men. His crew she assumed but then, why was it he wore no shoes? His clothing, while not particularly fine, was tailored which spoke of some amount of coin. She could see such a thing aboard ship where the salt could eat at the leather but here in port? Was that a sign of poverty or something else? Then there was the lady merchant she was hoping to get more information on. While she likely could earn a small amount of coin with the men at the table it was a sure thing. The woman captain on the other hand- that was a long shot but possibly of much greater reward. Unfortunately it was further compounded with another problem. Why would a common whore approach a lady captain?

Lucy mused that problem for several moments. Then figured she could always seek out the men the female captain had ordered out later after they finished the unloading. It was more than likely they'd be return here and if not there was the possibility she could entice one descend the gangplank off of the ship. In the meantime she could see if any of the three men were available.

Sashaying across the tavern floor, hips swinging, her bare feet leaving footprints in the sawdust, Lucy approached the captain and his two crewmen. She delivered them her most delightful smile, one practiced long and hard before a mirror when she was still barely old enough to full her bodice, and set her hip against the table that looked like it had been cut from a scuttled ship.

"Oi there," she greeted the three, twisting a copper hued lock of hair between index and forefinger, "My name be Lucy. Who here be offerin' me a drink?"

Jim, who was leaning as far away as possible from his captain, had to quickly write himself as the Roche suddenly deicide to give the him the reins. "W-well cap't, let's not..." Jim started, suddenly stopping himself as he remembered Braziliano's warning.

" What was that, Jim me friend?"

"Well cap't why not let your first mate take the role, or at least the boatswain take this job? I am not saying, sir, that I am not pleased 'n honored that you gave me this task, but the men..."

Before Jim could finish his sentences, Braziliano cut him off again, "Well if you feel that way about the job, I will buy ya 'nother round!" The captain led the man into the tavern and called out to the barkeep," Hey Sam! Buy me 'n the crew two rounds of rum, we need be celebratin'! Jim is taken o' the ship before we leave fer Port Royal!" As his captain was making the announcement, Jim looked to Sam with a worried expression on his face and lipped I'll have water, please to the barkeeper.

After making his desperate plea, Jim made a show of tripping forward and falling to the floor, deliberately spilling the drink in his hand on the way down splashing the two patrons in front of him. Jim quickly hopped up off the floor, brushed himself off, and apologized to the two women who happened to be sitting in the splash zone. Then, the pirate turned to his captain and said, "You best be goin' and making yourself merry while your on vacation sir." After Jim watched Braziliano wander off to wherever his drunken mind deemed necessary, he began. " All fellow men of Captain Roche Brazziliano's crew, as cap't just informed ya that I'm in charge for the time being. Our job is to make sure the ship is full of supplies for our trip t' Port Royal, understand. Now, tonight I'll let y'all follow cap't's orders and make yerselfs merry tonight, but make sure you're all at the merchant hall by dawn t'morrow, and make sure the rest of the crew knows this too." Finally, the stressed man found a table and, after taking a deep breath, he sat down and put his head in his hands.

The redhead was approaching across the room and as hard as Cris tried to meet her eyes, his kept falling to watch the alluring sway of her hips. He took a large gulp of rum just as Mathews and Henry noticed her approach, Henry stopped telling the absurd story he'd been telling to stare appreciatively and Mathews eyes stared anywhere but at her, flickering to her and then away a rosy blush spread across his cheeks.
Cris laughed and patted him on the back "Comeon Mathews, your almost a man now, you shouldn't be blushing at every pretty bird you see"

She arrived, leaning against the table. "Oi there"
"My name be Lucy. Who here be offerin' me a drink?"
Cris, his full attention on her hair twisting barley heard the question and had to take a moment to gather his wits, A slight tinge of red coloured his cheeks, probably just the rum.
Mathews sat seemingly doing his best to imitate a turtle in it's shell, certainly he wouldn't be saying anything, Henry was looking to Cris eyebrow raised.
Cris's lopsided smile spread across his face as he invited her to sit.
"Welcome Lucy, I'm Cris, Captain of the Airsprite and these layabouts be members of my crew, Mathews and Henry. Pull up a seat, I'll buy you a drink."