The RPG Consortium Free Form Roleplaying Forums Archives
Forums > General Roleplaying > Spoils of the Hellbound Armada

07/22/2006 2:33 PM

[i]Myths of the sea can be born of the simplest facts. Any ill-conceived tale can spread and reshape itself into a myriad legends of lost treasure.

The legend of the Hellbound Armada is no myth. It tells the tale of a dreaded pirate fleet that harried the Spanish coast for months, filling nearly a score of cargo holds with plunder. As the fleet returned to the open sea to make good their escape, a great storm engulfed them.

Not a single ship was seen again, but a few members of the fabled crews sprang up, and rumor cirulated that the ships had been forced to beach to avoid the storms, their cargo hidden away on the unknown shore that bore the ships.[/i]

* * *

Nestled peacefully in its port in London's crowded bay, the Hangman cut an unassuming figure. It bore no flag, which might have raised a few eyebrows, but its deck was quiet. Only a few that passed even spared it a second glance.

The ship was virtually empty. There was, of course, the odd man left behind, but most were enjoying their time ashore, though their wage was smaller this night than they were used to.

The pubs never slept, and that, Captain Randall knew, meant most of the crew would be back sometime around midday, when their hangovers were in full effect. Most nights, he would be right alongside them. Tonight, though, he had stayed aboard the ship, locked away in his cabin. Seated at his desk, he stared fixedly at a small scrap of paper, what appeared to be nothing more than a crude drawing.

But, in it he saw something that intrigued him: The hint of what might be a coastline, and lines dotting what would be the sea, as though a path was intended. The idea that it just might be a map had hounded him for the past five weeks.

That was when he'd liberated the paper from the coat of a modest trader. His crew's haul in that incident had been meager, but this he had kept to himself. Since he'd found it, it had dominated his thoughts.

Two sides were torn. Perhaps there were pieces missing...

What mattered now, though, was that he had the distinct impression his crew was unhappy with his newfound lack of daring. They'd never been wealthy, but his men were used to living well. Lately, they'd been scraping by. Captain Randall had started cutting down his own share of the plunder in order to bolster that of his men. It made little difference.

With a sigh of resignation, he tucked the paper back into his vest and stood. He made sure to grab his half-empty bottle of rum by the neck as he tottered to the door. When the cold night air hit him, his buzz threatened to waver. One good pull from the rum righted that.

The lights of London beckoned him, and he knew tonight he would answer the call. But just now, he wanted a moment. There were thoughts to be thunk.

He doubted very much thunk was even a word.

They needed more rum, Gunther needed to drink less rum, the parrot needed to shut the hell up sometimest, the deck could stand to be just a little cleaner, and just where in the hell did they ever get a pompous monkey. Still, all of that came after his concerns over the paper. He wanted to know more, to see the whole page. Maybe it was nothing but idle scribblings. But maybe it was more.

Captain Randall let his mind wander wherever it dared as he leaned over the rail and listened to the waves idly lap at the hull.

[Edited by Unbeliever on Wednesday, August 2, 2006 11:11 PM]

08/03/2006 9:39 AM

Captain Randall let his mind wander wherever it dared as he leaned over the rail and listened to the waves idly lap at the hull.

Silently emerging from behind a wooden cask which had been discarded on the deck of the Hangman, a darkly cloaked figure swooped towards the Captain and gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Captain, sir!" he boomed. "I'm awfully grateful for you timeful intervention in rescuing me back at Bognor. Why don't you let me give you a grand tour of this here fine city and let me try to repay some of what I owe ye?" Grinning from ear to ear and with more than a glint of mischief in his eyes, The Dandy Highwayman stood behind Captain Randall. "What do ye say?" he asked in an over exaggerated pirate voice.

Ironically, less than a week ago The Dandy Highwayman had been rescued by Captain Randall and his crew of the Hangman from what would have certainly lead to a meeting with the hangman at London's gallows. The crew's attempts to keep the vigorous fellow below deck had proved to be a more difficult task than they had expected. He had persisted to keep appearing on deck at the most inappropriate times, and now docked here on the River Thames in the middle of London he was suggesting setting off into the city!

08/03/2006 10:35 AM

Yllop the parrot flew down from the crow's nest where he had been waiting for captain Randall to emerge from his cabin. The silly sot had locked him out! What could he have been thinking? Sure he had said something like, "Pissant bird, I need quiet to think!" or something like that, but bird's don't quite understand things like that.

Yllop saw the Dandy Highwayman approach the captain and after a few brief words, Yllop landed on the highwayman's shoulder. "A Highwayman should shut up" *squak* "Big Nose!" *squak* And with that, Yllop bit the Dandy Highwayman on the nose. Quite vigorously. He then flew over to perch on the captain's shoulder as the highwayman swat at him. "Mistake." *squak* "Big Nose Highwayman loud." *squak*

No one had ever really wondered where a parrot learned such an extensive vocabulary and how to use it properly. Yllop really didn't know how to explain either, he just liked talking. So talk he did. When he wanted to talk instead of someone else he had gotten into the habit of biting their nose to make them shut up. It was usually quite effective as most people are incapable of making any noise other than a grunt or some such while trying to fend off a bird biting their nose.

08/03/2006 12:21 PM

Seamus O'Dogherty sat in the Sailors Cove pub, working on a tankard of ale. He gulped it down, then called for a bottle of rum. He took the bottle of rum, then walked over to a diceing table, one man was passed out lying on it, Seamus unceremoniously kicked him off his stool, to a drowsy grunt from the man. Seamus put some money on the table, and took out one of his pairs of dice, these ones loaded so as to come to seven. He looked down and saw the fine brace of pistols the man he had kicked off had. He reached down and relieved him of those pistols. He took the rolling cup "Seven" he said rolling them, the man across the table matched the bet and the dice were cast.

Seamus spent the next hour, deftly switching dice around and strategically losing throws, and by the end had quite a pile of coins. "Well gentlemen," he said in his thick irish brogue to the men who had gathered "The sea calls me back, and I must answer her summons." he said putting his fresh wealth into his coin bag. He called for another bottle of rum, which was immediately brought to him. "Slainte, gentleman" he said taking a swig. "You bug eaten son of an irish bitch!" the man who had lost the most money said "Your a filthy, bloddy cheat!" "What did ye say about me ma?" Seamus said "You heard me!" the man answered back, pulling his dagger out of the table. Seamus pulled one of his newly acquired pistols out and with a roar of rage shot the offending sailor in the head. "NEVER SPEAK ILL ABOUT ME MA!!!!" he put that pistol down quick and grabbed all the loose money bags on the table "Ta!" he said with a smile as he made for the door the pirate nearest him lunged, and Seamus met him with his other pistol. Seamus kept moving as he holstered his pistol, and drew his sword, one big pirate stood in the way of the door with a huge cutlass, the pirate swung and Seamus ducked, dropping his rum, he caught it before it hit the ground and slashed the pirate in front of him. He burst through the door and into the street with half the pub on his heels, he finally stowed everything away in his greatcoat and kept running, shots flew past his head, with no other options he dove into the harbor. A few minutes later his body aching from the weight of all his stuff in the water he pulled himself up on The Hangman's deck, he pulled out his rum, had a swig, and then had a hearty laugh

[Edited by Dream_Knight on Saturday, August 26, 2006 1:19 PM]

08/03/2006 2:11 PM

"Damned ship!"
Kip kneeled in the hold, scrubbing away the cracked places in the sap that had been used in leiu of true sealant on their last "grandiose adventure". The stuff just dryed too slowly, and honestly didn't even seal. He'd missed a good deal of the killing last time, instead being forced to mop the water from the floors to prevent the ammunition from rusting. Not a single cannon shot was his own because of this damnable ship! He loved her though, and no other mother was his own like The Hangman. Of courese, not many of the crew considered their mothers often he was sure, save the irishman, and he was still quite young.

He scraped away the last of the bad sap and filled in the dry spaces with a mop, dipped in a still-warm caulron of pine sap, lard, and rum. The rum had been purely a mistake on the part of a certain drunken b...man, who'd helped him previously in hefting the large steel pot into the hold in the first place. "All done," he exlaimed to no one but himself, and twirled the mop quite impressively, ending with a flourish and a powerful thrust that placed the mop back on its wall hooks. He laughed at himself then, realizing just how strange a man talking to himself and brandishing a mop would seem to anyone nearby. "Gotta get off this ship afore I start to act funny," he chuckled as he climbed to the upper deck.

"Damned Highwayman!"
Kip beat his palms against his head as he approached the cloaked man he called "ol Dandy" , marveling at how much a single phrase could do to make his day brighter.He'd never been quite sure whether or not the name bothered him, as within the last week he'd seldom seen him and was very busy with repairs. Upon reaching the deck he'd overheard ol Dandy's impression of a pirate and couldn't help but resume the laughter he'd only recently quelled.

Attempting to match ol Dandy's tone, he set about to join the merriment he'd missed. "Arrr, give me yer booties...and the gloves to match! Or was it 'give me yer pants and cover yer booty'? Pfft, never was a good pirate anyways, eh Captian? I've no heart for killin' an I hate the taste of rum." With that he laughed heartily, holding his gut and slapping ol Dandy lightly on the arm. The whole ship knew the irony of Kip's joke, knew of his love for drink and his sarcastic nature, and most definitely knew of his bloodlust in combat. He slapped his knee and leaned towards the Captain to pose the question was obvious in its coming,"If yer going ashore, do ye mind another pair of feet? Preferrably mine...and still attached..."

[Edited by Dream_Knight on Saturday, August 26, 2006 1:20 PM]

08/03/2006 11:07 PM

From within the ship's guts, a rowdy, growing chanty could be heard.

[i]"In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty, I first set eyes on sweet Molly Malone. As she wheeled her wheelbarrow, through the streets wide and narrow, I forget how the rest of this blasted song goes!"[/i]

The ship's main hatch burst open. In the refreshingly cool night, Gunther the Wild Drunken Bastard enjoyed the salty breeze as if he hadn't smelled it in ages, then broke into the chorus.

[i]"Alive, alive o! Alive, alive o! Something something, too drunk to think, I forget how this goes!"[/i]

Gunther had a way of making songs rhyme when he couldn't remember the words. He sauntered to the captain, standing an inch above him in Randall's own boots, which he put on out of boredom. The bottle in his hand, still a quarter full, swished dangerously.

"Captain bloody Randall, you short-arse you! What's all this racket I hear on the deck, eh?"

When he'd had a certain amount to drink, the ship's rum-keeper became deaf to his own volume. Before them stood The Highwayman. Gunther smiled.

"Are we going somewhere?"

08/04/2006 10:09 AM

As the main hatch burst open and the ship's Wild Drunken Bastard made himself seen and heard, a quiet little presence followed close behind. Marigold, had surreptitiously followed the captain's boots on deck, along with the rowdy pirate, Gunther.

Without making much of a sound the little monkey hopped up onto some crates and emitted a soft [i]"hoo hoo" [/i]sound of greeting as she bobbed a small curtsey before the group of men. She was a lady, afterall.

The little monkey cut quite a picture perched upon the crates. Her cinnamon hued body was soft and furry and dressed in a miniature skirt, along with a small ribbon, which was worn like a choker.

Marigold sat quietly regarding the men as they spoke to one another. Her little monkey hands her clasped together almost regally as her head turned quickly from one man to the other, her eyes avidly seeking any attention that might be offered her way.

She was definitely an oddity among the pirate crew and she knew it. She was petite, sweet and yes, pompous in someways, though that was through no fault of her own. Her genteel upbringing by Lady Claire Beaudry was to blame for that. The woman had spent much time trying to civilize the little creature in her home. She had gotten Marigold as a present from a suitor as a pet, in lieu of a cat or dog.

The taming and training had worked to an extent, but there was still a little of the wild in the small female. This showed most often when Marigold was upset, angry or the dirty, drunken parrot bothered her.

Apart from that, she was quite active and was probably more intelligent than some of the crew on board. She was used to being treated as a gopher for alot of little things that were needed. Give her a task to do and it would be done. [i] "Sweet lil' Mari.--Good 'ol Mari." [/i]As some called her.

She liked to help in the kitchen, on deck and in the captain's quarters where she also liked to spend time admiring herself in the mirror. Not to mention her clinging to crew members so that she might go with them wherever they went. She didn't much like being left alone.

She was a talented little monkey and it was a strange thing that she was aboard a pirate ship.

08/04/2006 12:43 PM

Captain Randall smiled disingeniously to Dandy. "You'll have to pardon the bird, mate. Sometimes, he just can't help himself." Many in the crew had complained about Yllop before, and there had been more than a few death threats, but in truth, he amused the captain. Aside from those moments that he was the target of Yllop's beak, or rum-thieving.

Aside from that, there was something about Dandy. Randall thought it wasn't far-fetched to say he might hate the man. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the man reminded him entirely too much of himself. That, he had discovered some years back, was the surest way for him to hate someone.

"Are we going somewhere?"

Captain Randall smiled, diplomatically ignoring his finely polished boots on the man's feet, and cast a look to each of the men around him. "That sounds like a winning idea, eh gents? What's better than a bit of trouble in bulk?"

The only problem was money. Namely, that they didn't have much to go around. His gaze settled on the sopping irishmen. With a dramatic flourish of his left hand, he brought everyone's attention to him. "The night's on Seamus O'Moneybags!" Without giving him a chance to object, Captain Randall added, "Good man, Seamus."

Despite the pleading of what little was left of his commonsense, he said to Dandy, "This is your city, landlubber. Show us what there is to see.

"Has everyone got everything they need?" He looked from man to man and noticed only one bottle of rum aside from his own. "Now this just won't do at all... This begs the question; Do we send someone below for more rum, or chance that we shall find some along the way?" He cast a sly glance around the group. "I'm up for a gamble." With that, he took one last pull from his bottle and set it aside.

Intending a quick, dramatic turn to the dock, the captain stumbled. When he had his feet back under his control, he stood overly straight. "Right. Trouble awaits." With Dandy and Gunther at his sides, Kip and Seamus on either side of them, and Yllop on his shoulder, they started, mostly in a drunken half-shuffle, toward the city.

"Come on, Mari. Don't just sit over there sulking," he called over his shoulder.

08/04/2006 2:01 PM

"We should stay away from the Sailors Cove, Cap'n." Seamus said, "I think I spoiled that one for us." Seamus said swaggering all over the lane "They seem to think I cheated them in dice. The very nerve!" he said laughing "OI! THERE HE IS! GET 'IM LADS!!" Seamus turned around to see a group of five sailors coming after him

08/04/2006 8:23 PM

Yllop bobbed up and down on captain Randall's shoulder. Everyone else seemed to be swaying about, so the bird thought it was some sort of game. Swaying to the beat of the captain's footsteps Yllop began a song.

[i]One merry drunk little pirate out dancing,
Two dandy highwayman out about scheming,
Three fat pork chops rolling out laughing,
Four wet Irishman, now he's peeing,
Five loud bastard gonna get real steaming,
Six prissy mokney needs a beating,
Seven silly parrot loves his singing,
Now we're ready to go.[/i]


Yllop turned his head to look behind them when he heard some yelling behind them. Some strange ruffian-types seemed to be pretty angry and running at them. "You don't frighten us English pig-dogs." Yllop cried at the oncomming personages. "Get 'em, boys!" With that, Yllop flew from his perch on the captain's shoulder and alighted himself on the roof of a nearby building to watch things, from a safe distance of course. It wouldn't do to have a stuck parrot. Those swords can be mighty dangerous. Have you ever seen a peg-legged parrot? Likely naught. You know why? Because Parrots kinda need those toes on their feet. The lack of toes on the peg-leg make for awfully precarious perching.

08/06/2006 8:48 PM

"Has everyone got everything they need?" He looked from man to man and noticed only one bottle of rum aside from his own. "Now this just won't do at all... This begs the question; Do we send someone below for more rum, or chance that we shall find some along the way?" He cast a sly glance around the group. "I'm up for a gamble." With that, he took one last pull from his bottle and set it aside.

"Ah hell. I guess I can rustle us up a few barrels. Lucky you said it now, I was planning to have a nightcap and go to sleep."

"OI! THERE HE IS! GET 'IM LADS!!" Seamus turned around to see a group of five sailors coming after him

Gunther's hands dropped to his waist, feeling his unarmed hips. Snarling, he remembered taking the swords off to sleep. Of all nights to take them off ... The rum-keeper adjusted his tricorne, reconsidered then threw it onto the deck. Looking at the angry charging sailors, there were five, approaching fast. Fists ready, Gunther bolted at the man on their sloppy formation's left.

08/07/2006 5:44 AM

Seamus drew his sabre and charged, "Gunther, CATCH!!" he said tossing his tomahawk to the rumkeeper. "Come on lads!" Seamus yelled to his attackers, sword ready.

08/07/2006 7:07 AM

Kip's fingers literally itched with anticipation for the coming fray. He looked at the
coming crowd and ducked low, shifting all of his weight onto his right foot. He reached
into each boot and drew his lightest set of twin daggers, hammered and shaped in
symmetrical patterns with cruel barbs at the bottom of each blade. The steel folded and
tempered harder and softer in certain spots to balance the weight between blade and hilt, making them excellent throwing knives. He waited, then, for some sign from his mates that there would, indeed, be bloodshed.

Gunther's charge was enough of a signal for the young fighter, even though a sidewise blink may have caused the same reaction. Kipper examined the situation, choosing to attack the men opposite the drunken dasher, and thrust his legs out as hard as possible. Kip launced himself headlong at an angle, rolling in mid-air to turn the leap into a head-first barrel roll. A flick of his wrists had the handles of his daggers pressed now between his fingers as he crossed his arms about his waist. Quickly, and just before hitting the ground, Kip lashed forward with his arms, hooking his thumbs inside the metal rings attached to the bottoms of the pair of daggers tucked into his breeches. Letting fly the pair of daggers, the momentum of the throw spun the other two daggers around on their hoops to rest in his palms as his knuckles hit ground and he rolled to his feet, considerably closer to the attackers. Kip looked at the mob to see if he'd struck true, generally, his aim was quite good, but he'd had a bit of drink before the fight.

With a steel resolve, he braced himself for battle...

08/07/2006 8:58 AM

The Dandy Highwayman was still fuming about that damned parrot biting him. [i]Big nose[/i] indeed! Casually removing one of the Flintlock pistols from the belt hidden beneath his cloak he decided to take the opportunity presented by the arrival of the sailors to blast the bird. Hopefully Captain Randall would be too distracted to notice... If not - he could always claim his pistol had misfired...

Shuffling into a cocky stance, Dandy began to spin the weapon round and around using one finger which was lodged inside the trigger guard. He was particularly fond of this impressive looking trick and had [i]almost[/i] perfected it through hours of practice. Once the spinning pistol on his finger had began to pick up speed, Dandy took his eyes away from it to display a snister looking smile towards the parrot. [i]I wonder if one or two of those bright feathers would look good in my hat?[/i] He thought to himself.


Dandy didn't see the burly sailor lunging towards him to plant a five knuckle sandwich clean on the end of his already injured nose.


The pistol went off and the unsuspecting Dandy was sent plummeting overboard, down into the river below. The only fortunate thing for him, and probably the rest of the crew too, was the shot fired down directly into the sailor's foot. The agonising scream of the injured brute masked out the splash of the departing Highwayman.

08/07/2006 5:53 PM

Gunther gratefully caught the axe in his right hand. For all the times the Irishman got them in trouble, he'd somehow make up for it. In this case, letting the rum-keeper use one of his crazy axe-things.

Expressionless and cool (this situation seemed to come all the time lately), he let the leftmost man know he was charging, then as he closed in, leapt and slid past on the ground, his coat a fabric sled. Passing, he slashed behind the knee and pivoted. Not caring if he'd hit, Gunther scanned for whoever looked like the leader - every group had a leader, stood and raced behind him. He lifted the man's chin with his free hand and held the blade clearly to his throat, so the sailor didn't react. Gunther's cool air dissolved. He gave a piercing whistle.

"Move and I slash his throat!" The rum-keeper screamed.

08/07/2006 6:24 PM

Seamus parried a sword blow, and delivered a quick slash along his assailants wrist, cutting the tendons so he dropped the sword. Seamus smiled then slashed his oppenents rope belt twice quickly, dropping his breeches. Seamus laughed then delivered a punch to the nose with the handguard of his sabre. "Come on lads, give me a fight!" he said chuckling as he quickly and easily parried 4 strikes from his next attacker. His attacker lunged but Seamus knocked it away, riding the thrust in a spin that ended with his sabre sticking out his opponents back. Seamus withdrew and watched as Gunther pressed his blade to the throat of a leaderly looking one. To reinforce the rum-keepers point, Seamus quickly reversed his grip and held the deadly curved blade to the throat of another one.

08/07/2006 7:26 PM

The parrot watched things unfold down below. The big-nosed one fell into the water. As long as no one else noticed, Yllop wouldn't mention it. He didn't care for the man's I-can-talk-whenever-I-want-to attitude. No one, save the captain (though only on occasion), could talk whenever they wanted. Yllop had reserved the right to voice over anyone else in the crew.

When it became apparent that the struggle was winding down, Yllop dove down from his perch on high. He landed on one of the few assailants still standing and proceeded to bite his nose with a vengeance. "That's what ya get for messin' with us!" *squak* Yllop made the brief flight back to the captain, who hadn't done a thing (what a lazy bastard, making his crew do all the work...waitasec, isn't that what a captain's supposed to do, oh well), and proceeded to do a little victory dance. First he'd raise one foot and bob, then place that foot down and raise the other foot and zig. It was a strange ritual, one that he was forced to endure as a legacy of the previous parrot to earn his standing amongst the crew, but Yllop didn't mind it anymore. It was actually quite fun once you got used to it.

08/07/2006 7:41 PM

"Come on, Mari. Don't just sit over there sulking," he called over his shoulder.

As the Capitain called to her, Marigold perked up immediately and sprung into action. She lept off the top of the crates she had been sitting atop and landed on the ground at a loping run. She was less than a lady in that moment, for all the while, her little skirt bounced up and down as she went.

Once caught up to the crew of the Hangman, she climbed the nearest body, which just happened to be the Captain at the time. She settled herself on his free shoulder, looked at the bird and made a "shooing" motion with her little furry hands.

Marigold then heard the all to familiar warning cries of an impending fight between men.

She watched as the dirty bird flew to safety. Mari then screamed in the direction of the oncoming attackers "Eeeeeeeeeee... Eeeeeeeeee... Eeeeeeee!".

She hopped on the Captain's shoulders a few times as the action unfolded before their eyes, then wrapped her arms tightly around his head and covered the Captain's eyes with her hands.

As the bird flew down to bite yet another nose, Mari loosened her hands from the Captain's eyes. The worst was over and he had been spared the details.

One thing Mari did notice however, was that the Dandy was not to be seen anyplace.

[Edited by Sway_Greenwitch on Monday, August 7, 2006 8:40 PM]

08/07/2006 8:37 PM

As they set out, Captain Randall started humming a little tune to himself. It had probably been a song at some point, but whatever it was he produced couldn't be called music.

Riding high on his buzz, the captain sashayed down the way, his men at either side, just a step ahead. At the sight of his reflection in a puddle, he stopped, stooped low for a better view. "Hello there, handsome," he greeted himself. Apparently the fine man in the water thought the same, as he gave the same greeting.

With a bemused smirk, lost in his own reverie, the captain stood. His men were only a few meters ahead, beating the holy hell out of a few rabble-rousers. The night air was...

He stopped to consider why the situation seemed amiss to him. Something just wasn't right. The night was cold. The tide called out to any man with the sea in his heart. A bloody fight raged just ahead.

He looked back down at his reflection. With a squint he investigated it more closely. There it was, plain as day; his sideburns were uneven. That was all there was to it.

A bit frustrated at his new discovery, he stood again. Before he could take a step, Mari was on him, her little hands over his eyes. With a hearty chuckle, Randall said, "Now, now, lil' Mari. We can't be playing these games on the street. We might get trampled." He stumbled blind for a few moments, keeping a hand to the nearest wall to keep from falling. "There's a girl," he cooed as she moved her hands.

Yllop took his usual place on Randall's other shoulder, opposite Mari, much to her chagrin. With his two passengers, his extra hands as he sometimes called them, Randall caught up with the others.

With an eyebrow raised, he looked left, then right, then left again. After a hard blink, he repeated the process." Alright. What's this, then?" he asked, bewildered.

08/08/2006 9:29 PM

Gunther answered, "Oh, we were just ..." The leader had gone quiet, axe pressed against his throat. "... I thought this one could use a shave." He scraped the blade against the sailor's jaw a couple times and grinned. "Do you want to see the city now?"

08/09/2006 11:50 PM

Captain Randall cocked his head to the side as he considered the question. "If everyone's fine, that sounds fantastic. Especially a tour of a pub or two."

He took a mental tally as he looked around the group. Gunther, Seamus, Kip, Mari, and Yllop. Five.

He'd counted six earlier. Gunther, Seamus, Kip, Mari, and Yllop. Still five. Gunther, Seam... Yeah, it was probably five.

But then, how were they suddenly a man short? It didn't make any sense, unless someone had disappeared on them. That didn't seem likely, as magic was suspect, at best. Maybe someone had fallen in the...

That was it. Plain as day again.

He'd forgotten to count himself. He made six.

"Alright, gents. Whose up for a few drinks? Err... Few more drinks?"

08/10/2006 11:26 AM

At the mention of drinks, Yllop perked up. "Yllop want rum." *squak* "Yllop want rum." Yllop started bobbing his head excitedly at the prospect of consuming the liquid goodness. He was so excited he even forgot to bite the captain's nose for speaking out of turn.

08/10/2006 10:54 PM

"Christ, everyone wants rum. I have some work ahead of me, then."

Gunther slid off his bandanna and pocketed it, revealing matted dark hair underneath, buttoned up the coat and pocketed his rings. There was rum in the galley, and even more in the quarters from him using it down there, but not much. From the amount of people out tonight, taking more would be a lovely challenge. He released the sailor, let him think for a moment he was free, then whacked the poor bastard behind the ears with Seamus' axe-butt. The leader thumped hard against the ground, meaning he was out right away. Perfect hit.

On the ground beside him was his bottle, dropped when the Sailors came. Half of it hadn't spilled. Gunther took it up, shoved it into the parrot's beak and tilted.

08/10/2006 11:33 PM

Seamus put his sword away. "Rum we shall have lads, for in my earlier adventures this fine evening i procured a great store of wealth. Drinks are on Seamus!" he said

08/12/2006 10:09 AM

Kip approached the man whom he thrown his daggers at before and grimaced openly at what he saw. The daggers had struck, however, only deeply in the legs of a very tall man. He removed them quickly, chuckling at the sweat and tears pouring from the injured man, and at the way the man fell limply as he fainted from the pain.
"Captain!? I b'leive I need a few more drinks as well. My aim is somewhat ladbuster...lackchested...er...bad..."
With that, he clapped both Gunther and Seamus on their shoulders, smiling broadly.
"So, what say we go now...I think I can still taste the water in my sweat...er..yeah..."

08/12/2006 12:45 PM

Yllop nearly drowned at the sudden flow of liquid goodness pouring down his beak. He flapped his wings in reflex to get away, but his mind won out. He sat on the captain's shoulder, flapping his wings and drinking rum being poured down his throat. After a few seconds (and more than a few drops being sloshed on the captain's fine coat), Yllop pushed up on the bottle with his beak. That was his signal to Gunter that was enough for a ten-ounce bird.

Yllop swayed dangerously on his perch on the captain's shoulder. He fell a few steps to the side and landed on the side of the captain's face. Strange, usually when you fall you go with gravity, not perpendicular. Oh well, captain Randall's head would provide well enough support until Yllop got used to the world's new spin. Deosil, it always spins deosil. Now all Yllop had to do was find someway to make him spin widdershin at the same pace. Yllop was sure that was the trick to beating the drunkeness, but in all his years of trying to find a way to do so all he's accomplished is falling off the captain's shoulder on more than a few occasions.

Yllop decided that it was a good time for a song, so he started a drunken rambling (think Scuttle's song {rather, conflagaration of noise} on The Little Mermaid, if you remember). Occasionally the world would slip a little further and he would have to hold on to Randall's ear with his beak for a bit to regain his perch atop the side of his face.

08/13/2006 5:05 AM

Seamus put his sword away. "Rum we shall have lads, for in my earlier adventures this fine evening i procured a great store of wealth. Drinks are on Seamus!" he said

"Well Seamus, don't spend too much. Tonight, I'm feeling dangerous. What do you say to brandy and scotch? More than yer' little stomachs can handle." He winked and looked to the monkey.

"But I'll need an accomplice. Is our lady feeling risky this evening?"

08/13/2006 9:33 AM

The drunken Hangman crew and a handful of injured men stood before the Captain the monkey and the bird, looking like quite the comical bunch.

Marigold blinked innocently as her wide eyes observed the scene before her. She was unconsciously looking for any goods she might be able to collect for herself.

As the crew spoke and the bird proceeded to get drunk by the Wild Drunken Bastard, she thought about perhaps tipping the bird off the Captain's shoulder. That would be something interesting for her to observe. To see him flail and squawk on the ground like a fledgeling.

She then changed her mind as she spotted a small dagger laying on the ground and knew that she wanted it as her own.

Keeping her eyes trained on the unclaimed weapon she slid down the Captain's arm then scooted over toward the blade which, still lay on the ground by a fallen man, presumably the one Skip had watched faint.

Gingerly she leaned in and reached with one hand until her fingers grasped the handle; then at top speed, she made for the Captain's shoulder once again, dagger in hand.

She was proudly handling the blade in her nimble hands when the bird began to sing its terrible tune. The monkey covered her one ear with a little hand, but the other was occupied with the dagger...[i]The dagger![/i].

Little Mari suddenly had an idea... With the dagger firmly held in her left hand she began brandishing the blade in the general direction of the bird, behind the Captain's head. She was just doing as she had seen the crew do, nothing more. If using blades helped keep the little rum fiend quiet, she would certainly give it a go.

She wasn't having much luck at making him be quiet though, the blade had very little control and was swerving to and fro at the end of her thin little arm. She need to develop some skill with this new toy.

Once again she stopped what she was doing as she was distracted by the Wild Drunken Bastard who was speaking to her. She heard the words "Lady" which she considered to be herself, as well as the word "risky" being spoken in her direction . It was enough to gain her full attention.

She ceased all brandishing of her new weapon and lifted her eyes toward the speaker. Mari's face showed something of a grin as she bobbed up and down lightly and brought her furry digits together as though she were going to clap, the dagger still firmly clasped in her left palm.

[Edited by Sway_Greenwitch on Sunday, August 13, 2006 9:48 AM]

[Edited by Sway_Greenwitch on Sunday, August 13, 2006 11:35 AM]

08/13/2006 11:56 PM

"My stomach can handle anything Gunther." Seamus said "Look at that little monkey lads, she has a piece she does!" he said laughing. He took a nip from his flask and felt a song coming on. "O I've been a wild rover for manys the year, and I spent all my money on whiskey and beer, But now I'm returning with gold in great store, and I never will play the wild rover no more!" he hiccuped loudly "So its no nay never, no nay never no more, well I'll play the wild rover, no nay never no more!"

08/14/2006 6:59 AM

The Irishman was singing. That meant it was time to go. Gunther headed toward the city's wavering torchlight, a hand held out for the monkey to hop on his shoulder.

(Hay GM, what's say I try and take somewhere's fine alcohol, and you try and stop me with NPCs and stuff? Or were you already planning that?)

08/18/2006 8:41 PM

(OOC: Actually, I was thinking something very similar. Let's see how it develops.)

The captain glanced cock-eyed at the parrot singing drunkenly on his arm. He watched quietly until he was sure the bird wasn't going to stop anytime soon. Oblivious to Mari gaining the dagger, he clapped a hand over Yllop's beak. "Hush now, my winged sop."

Randall flashed a wide grin as he turned his attention to Gunther. "Actually, you bastard, I thought we might all get the grog. You can only carry so much, and we all know you'll have half of it gone before we ever see you again. Me, Irish Pride here, and..." And? "Err... And Yllop wouldn't be liking that too much.

Looking to all present company, he said, "Now, the only question is..." He trailed off as he turned to Mari on his shoulder, a knife in her little hand. She blinked once at him, listening intently; the moonlight glinted off the blade. He blinked back.

"The only question,"he started slowly, before regaining his usual head of steam, "is where are we going to find some?"

"Damn it all, Merrill! It's 'one, two, three, LIFT'! You lift on lift! Don't lift on three."

Captain Randall stretched his neck while simultaneously cocking his head a bit to the side. At the end of an alley to their left, two men were unloading barrels from a cart, toting them into a dimly lit warehouse.

"Gents, I sometimes wonder if there really [i]is[/i] a greater power at work."

[Edited by Unbeliever on Saturday, August 26, 2006 2:08 AM]

08/18/2006 8:56 PM

Yllop floundered about for a second when Randall pinhed his beak shut. Perhaps the song wasn't as appreciated as was thought. Still unawares of the armed monkey on the other shoulder of the captain, Yllop tried to right himself. Though all he accomplished was sliding further down the captain's cheek.

After Randall included Yllop in his list of those who would be not liking Gunter going off on his own to get some rum, Yllop gave his concurrance with a loud squak and what was intended to be, "You'll get yours comming to you if you forget the bird!", but was completely unintelligable to human ears and sounded mostly like grumbles and a few hiccups.

Then, sensing the captain's mood with the workers in the alley, Yllop gathered enough sense to utter a single word. This was a word he really liked, "Charge!"

08/19/2006 3:16 PM

"Its as if th' blessed St. Paddy himself looked down from on high." Seamus said, drawing his sword and his tomahawk "It'd be a shame to refuse such a mighty gift."

08/20/2006 8:39 PM

While they were discussing, Gunther was already surging through the alley. He shoulder barged the nearest man, head-on, feeling around for his axe. Killing them wasn't a good idea in this case, he figured, but scaring them would work.

08/22/2006 3:14 PM

(OOC: Mind if I join in?)

"What's all the ruckus out here, then? Merrill, Snipes, Uncle asked for the rum fifteen minutes ago! What's the hold up, eh?"

The door in the alleyway had swung open to reveal a young woman no older than nineteen. Her once-white sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and around her tiny waist was tied a stained apron. Her messy blonde hair was tied back messily, a few renegade tendrils swung before her eyes. She hastily swept the hair from her face, and rested her fists firmly on her hips.

"Well then, let's go boys! We have a business to r--" Before she had a chance to finish her sentence, she saw the brigade of pirates standing in the alleyway behind her uncle's pub.

08/22/2006 9:58 PM

Seamus followed Gunther with his sword raised high. He then saw the young lady and stopped. "Top o' the evening lass, Me name is Seamus O'Dochartaigh, and what may yours be?"

08/23/2006 10:05 AM

The pub girl, who had made her way well into the alley before noticing the unexpected company, began to inch her way back to the door of her uncle's establishment with cautious backward tip-toes. The sound of her worn leather slippers against gravel seemed to echo through her head as she tried to remain calm.

"Me? I'm Emma," she was able to wimper through her labored breath,"but you're.... you're a..."

She gulped as her eyes fixated on the gleaming blade above Seamus' head. Her uncle had told her countless tales of these scoundrels of the seas, how they would drunkenly barrel from land to land devouring any bounty they encountered. They were a notable force to be reckonned with. For decades the royal navy had chased after bands of pirates with many a fruitless endeavor, and here she was, a helpless bar-maid, at their mercy.

With her last word unspoken, Emma's body became completely limp and she collapsed to the floor unconscious.

[Edited by evey_v on Wednesday, August 23, 2006 10:10 AM]

08/23/2006 7:24 PM

(Hay there evey. UB thought we had enough as it is, but why not join us for this scene?)

Without seeing if the barge had knocked him down, Gunther swivelled to the other. He looked like the kind that had a weakness for women, as all but a few men did. Gunther swept up the girl, threw her where the man's arms would catch her, drew the axe and swept the blunt end at his nose, waiting for that satisfying click. If nothing he just did worked, the rum-keeper figured, he'd be bruised enough to hide in the shadow naked by the time everyone backed him up.

08/25/2006 12:06 PM

Seamus pressed his blade against the throat of one the men who had the rum. "Easy now lads, give us the rum and we wont have to do anything rash"

08/26/2006 2:02 AM

(OOC: Actually, with the two no-shows we could use another person. And, it looks like the girl can write, so I'm open. Just check your mail, evey.)

Holden Merrill was, by all accounts, a large man. There'd once been a time that his visits to a pub wouldn't be complete without laying down an open challenge for arm-wrestling. He'd never lost, and had been drunk on another man's coin more often than he'd care to count.

Those days were behind him, the victim of sensibility that comes with responsibility. He had a family now, and didn't need to make an ass out of himself anymore.

In spite of his size, he hadn't seen the smaller man coming until it was too late. The stiff shoulder forced a grunt out of him. As he crashed into the wall, he lost his breath.

A moment later, back on his hands and knees, he gave his head a stern shake. It did nothing to stop the damnedable ringing. At the crack that echoed around them his head snapped up suddenly, a move he would have regretted if not for what he saw.

Wes, his partner for the night, fell back as blood spewed from his nose. Despite his injury he made sure to cradle Emma as he fell.

"You wretched dog!" he grumbled as his fingers wrapped around the disposed leg of a chair.

"Wouldn't do that, friend," came an amiable voice, accompanied by the ring of drawn steel. Holden turned at the sound, and glared up the length of the rapier at the obviously drunk man that had sashayed unnoticed behind the two ruffians. "Now, be a chap and give us a hand with the rum, eh?"

Wes' muffled groaning did nothing to cover the scoff that issued from Holden's throat. "It'd be a cold day in hell before I did any such thing. Seems you don't need my help, anyway."

"Oh? Why's that?" If he could have slapped the smirk off the pirate's face, he would have done gladly done so.

"Cause it's stock night. Full staff, and all."

The pirate raised his eyebrows in momentary confusion. At a low chuckle, he turned. After appraising the near two-dozen men behind him a goodly moment, he turned back as his face fell.


[Edited by Unbeliever on Saturday, August 26, 2006 2:18 AM]

08/27/2006 10:28 PM

Seeing a pause, but not the others watching them, Gunther surged again and kicked swiftly at the back of the man's head. He assumed again it'd knocked him out turned and rolled the barrel toward the alley.

"Help me with this," he called, not knowing the door was still open. Too much rum before planning to sleep. "Get it to the alley shadows fast, then we'll carry it. Slow and unnoticed. We have to hurry."

08/28/2006 2:11 PM

Emma found herself regaining consciousness in the burly arms of Wes, one of the loading hands hired to work for her uncle's pub. For a moment she had forgotten why she passed out in the first place, but was quickly reminded by the sight of the gaggle of seadogs that proceeded to roll barrels of liquor down the alleyway. It was unclear whether they would get very far in their theivish endeavors seeing that the entire staff of brawny workers were hot on their trail, but Emma knew she had to do something to stop them.

Feeling the tiny body stir in his arms, Wes looked to Emma with concern, "You 'kay there, Miss?"

Emma slowly rose from his grasp. "Yes, thank you. Do excuse me," she replied distractedly. With that she took off through the restaurant with a clever plan in mind.

08/29/2006 1:35 AM

Seamus followed Gunthers plan and started rolling a barrel of rum down the street. "Bloody hell!" he said. Seeing all the men behind them, he grabbed up the barrel of rum and ran towards the water

08/29/2006 8:28 AM

Onboard [i]The Hangman[/i], The Dandy Highwayman stood wearing only his drawers and sporting a bloody swolen nose. Ungraciously he was wringing out his drenched clothes and had created a large puddle of water upon the deck's wooden floor.

On hearing the rumble of approaching barrels and the shouts of angry men he looked up from his task and cursed, "What trouble are they bringing now!?" Frantically he began putting on his sodden damp clothes again. "Christ I'm starting to wish I'd stayed in the company of Dick bloody Turpin," he grumbled.

With a bit of a struggle he quickly managed to squeeze back into his black trousers and shirt without too much of trouble, but as he attempted to slip into his fine waistcoat his arms seemed to get stuck behind his back. "Grrr!" Dandy wriggled and struggled desperately but the damp fabric clung to him like a straight jacket. In one final heave of desperation he suddenly lost his footing on the slippery wet floor and landed flat on his face with his arms still tangled firmly behind his back. "Bastard!"

08/30/2006 10:28 PM

Seamus followed Gunthers plan and started rolling a barrel of rum down the street. "Bloody hell!" he said. Seeing all the men behind them, he grabbed up the barrel of rum and ran towards the water

Amazed, he watched the Irishman pick up a barrel - [i]a barrel[/i] - of rum and power back to the ship. Either he'd never seen Seamus use his muscles, or the Irishman wanted his bloody drink. Both were credible. He turned and watched the full staff come for them. The psychotic excitement built suddenly in him.

"Run then," he grinned savagely to the others. "If they can take one, they will."

He took out the axe, screamed and ran for a few of the least muscular ones, hoping to scare them off. The plan was to distract them, run in the opposite direction of his crewmates and lose them down the alleys.

[i]If this works ...[/i] Gunther thought, chuckling lividly at the thought. The Drunken Bastard was berserk.

09/03/2006 4:05 PM

His rapier already sheathed, Captain Randall rigidly highstepped to the cart of barrels and started pushing. It didn't budge.

He heard Gunther draw his weapon and scream, as he was often wont to do. That usually meant something bad was going to happen. Given his current predicament, he didn't think it could get much worse.

He turned and set his shoulder against the cart, giving a mighty push with his legs. Nothing. The veins in his neck bulged as he put everything he had into it. His face turned a shade of red fit for a woman's lips. The cart didn't so much as wiggle. He didn't consider himself a particularly strong man, but this was ridiculous.

The men drew in close to Gunther, some brandishing makeshift weapons of crowbars, planks, and one beer mug. On top of that, he counted three knives among them. [i]Bloody hell[/i].

Gunther was a capable man. He'd been in worse situations. Something like this, he'd be fine. No worries. None at all.

That was what he told himself as he tiptoed out from behind the cart, intent on rounding it and bolting. He took two quiet steps past the rear wheel and stopped. With a grimace, he turned back to the wheel. The brake was set.

With a quick glance in either direction, he was confident nobody had noticed his wasted effort.

With great care, this was a glorious prize, afterall, he released the brake. It came loose with a satisfying pop. Randall smiled at his ingenuity.

Then one of the men from the alley crashed into it, off balance. Gunther must have been faring well. The cart, though, didn't appreciate being bothered and started to roll down the gentle grade in the opposite direction.

"No... No, no, no," Randall muttered to himself. With no better idea in mind, he set off after it.

Because of the weight of its load, the cart was picking up speed, barrelling down the alley toward the harbor. Randall picked up his pace, running as quickly as his drunken mind would allow. "Come back, my lovely!"

[Edited by Unbeliever on Sunday, September 3, 2006 7:26 PM]

09/03/2006 7:21 PM

Seamus saw Gunther turn back "GUNTHER YOU CRAZY DRUNKEN BASTARD!" Seamus yelled. He looked down to his rum, then over toward Gunther. Roaring in exasperation, Seamus hurled his barrel into the water where it floated and drew his sword "FAUGH A BALLAUGH!" he yelled charging after Gunther

09/03/2006 7:50 PM

Fighting a crowd was like fighting a single lofty, cumbersome man who took up half a town square. Except against one man, you might win.
Gunther used a few young men on the side, screaming with his axe high, making a show. They flinched; a part of the crowd behind them stepped back uncomfortably. He still knew how to ride crowds. They opened a way at the flank for a moment - he sprinted around, hopped at the end, pivoted midair and kept jogging backwards. Then stopped and began screaming again.

"I'll take you all! Step near - have at me with your ..." he eyed a random weapon. A beer mug? What the - whatever. "... I'll cut you to bits!" Swift, he stepped in and stamped near them. The reaction wasn't big enough; with a snarl Gunther hurled his axe into the crowd. Halfway in its flight, he realised how stupid that was. It hit - one of them collapsed into the barrels. He ran like hell, in the direction he wanted them to follow. One of his earliest lessons: if you attack a crowd first, they strike back mercilessly.

09/15/2006 12:51 PM

OOC: I have been cleared to go. My CS will be posted as soon as Unbeliever gets back to me about a certain question, upon that message I will post it. For now I believe it will be safe to start my story.

"AWWWW You Fuck Off, damn bloody Brit!!!" An angered figure yelled loud enough for half of the block to hear.

"Good Sir, please behave yourself, you are amongst British gentleman, we don't take kindly to those off the lesser manners."

Stopping his rant, the hulking fella pondered before speaking again, "Very well than. Will ye please be handin' me over a damn bottle of whiskey, and tankard of Porter ta chase down, ya filthy British Dog."

The man at the bar counter's eyes swelled with frustration. The scene had gone about at this manner for atlest half the night. The tall burly irish man, had come in ranting and raving about he not being able to get a descent drink around here. His firery red hair and long full beared was speckled with ancient morsels of petrified and molding food, unbefitting of a British Officers club.

"Sir... For the last time I am going to ask you to evade our fine presence, and go back to your filth ridden peasents country! Your kind aren't welcome here, and your damn cowardice self better leave immediately." The british office snorted with pride and power. Thing is the Irishman took at as snobbishness and a sign if impotence.

"SO ya callin me a coward now!!!" The barman motioned for three soldiers dressed in red coats. "Oh and yer the one callin fer back up!!! I just want a fucking drink ye pansy bastard."

"Sir by royal right of the King you are hereby under arrest... Wait, what is this!!??"

The soldier peered across the room, finding a small parchement hanging on the wall. On it it Read:

[i]Wanted: Irishman gone murderer!!!
Wanted DEAD or Ali...Just Dead.
Goes by the name Mr. O'Creedy[/i]

Further Scanning the picture, it held a painted picture of someone who was similar to the Irishman they faced now. Backing off the man the two guards pointed muskets in his direction, pressing the dull edges of bayonets into his chub upon his skin. Smiling the man looked at the two guards.

"You are Mr. O'Creedy!!!"

"That I am lads. Now if don't mind I be leavin' with my Whiskey Now. You British Dogs!!!!"

With that, Mr. O'Creedy, grabbed the muskets, cross ing them in front of him, as they unleashed clouds of smoke, and two devastating led balls, which settled firmly in the yaws of the two Soldiers. They Collapsed Peacefully. By now the room was ina Ruckus, and O'Creedy took no chance at subtlety, reaching across the counter and hurling the small British gentleman into a crowd of oncoming soldiers. He let out a loud robust cackle as they fell like Red Dominoes. Reaching over the Counter, Mr. O'Creedylifted a Keg of Porter, and ripped the cap off of a bottle Irish made whiskey. [i]Settle for no less!! Har har!!![/i]

Taking a well needed swig of the Whiskey, He dashed out the door knocking down a few panicing whores, and a crowd of troops answering the disturbances call. Turning Right, O'Creedy Gulped down the final swig of the Whiskey, and tossed the bottle into the heaqd of a pursuing British officer.

"Damn Ye Red Coats!!! Damn ya all!!! For Ireland!!!"

By now a group of atleast thirty soldiers had took off after him, and fired a hailstorm of led balls toward him. [i]Fuck Off Pansies!!! Use a real weapon!![/i] After thinking to himself, O'Creedy, gulped down a substantial amount of Porter, kissed the keg, and parted it with prayer to marry, before tuirning and hurling it directly into the onslaught of gunshots and pursuing soldiers. Not bother to see the damage, Mr. O' Creedy continued on the Road, heading for the Docks. Hopefully he could stow away without getting caught.

09/15/2006 8:03 PM

The crowd of workers chased madly after Gunther, yelling threats and obscenities, while Captain Randall chased the rolling cart of rum, yelling threats and obscenities. Just as he managed to get a hand on the cart, the crowd after Gunther was stumbling over each other, in danger of losing him at the slightest trick.

The cart, it seemed, was going faster than he could keep up with, though. His grip refused to let up, so he was forced to keep up. [i]Can't lose the rum![/i] With one last lunge of his inebriated stamina, he pulled himself onto the cart, and barrelled down the cobbled road at its mercy.

When he realized his hair was blown back from his face, it struck him that this may have been a bad idea. The harbor was getting closer and closer, and the cart was only gaining speed.

At the bottom of the incline, a drunk old codger stumbled out from behind a crate, and tottered into the street.

"Hey... Hey!" From the distance, the drunk had no chance to hear him. He tried to whistle, but realized he couldn't after a futile moment of blowing.

The old man made it to the middle of the street before he caught sight of the cart. Dazed as he was, he could only stop and stare in disbelief at what he saw.

Randall closed his eyes, awaiting the impact. When the cart jarred a bit, he opened them again. The old man was draped over the front end of the cart, glaring at him bewilderdly.

"Evening," he greeted with a nod.

The old man licked his lips and asked, "Think you might spare a drop o' this fine grog?"

Captain Randall smiled. As he caught sight of the Hangman, its deck still dark, the crew still out, his smile grew. "You ever sailed, ol' dog?"

09/15/2006 8:51 PM

Mr. O'Creedy enjoyed the break heartly. He had been running for god only knows how long and his weight didn't really agree with the strenous excercise, not to mention he hadn't had a proper drink since his last stop on the border of Ireland.

"Aye no time fer talking now lad!!!"

As he finished his statement, the Rider on the cart, looked confused. From the street he had just ran out of calls were heard and than a series of musket balls tore through the cart and whizzed past the cart and their riders.

"That's why!!!"

Seemingly a whole division of Red coats now joined the pursuit of the plundered Rum, and charged with vengeance at the blundering Irish lush. Another series of musket fires launched down the street, coming much closer to the cart. In fact a sing musket found a target striking a keg, and allowing a spout to pour out the precious nectar of the Gods.

"SAINTS BE SHAKEN!!! The Keg!!!" Mr. O'Creedy daringly let go of one hand nearly sliding of the cart, yet somehow was able to catch himself, plugging his thumb into the large splintered whole.

Amazingly the Leak halted, and O'Creedy, still struggling to hold onto the cart, perched his foot under the cart on a wooden shaft, letting go of his other hand, extending his middle finger.

"OI!!!! FUCK OFF British Dogs!!! Ye may take me land, ye may even take me life, but ye never be takin me necter. Bastard Pansies!!!"

Nearly falling once again, and shooting the cart off track, O'Creedy grabbed back onto the cart. Smiling at his new, born from fate, accomplice, O' Creed quickly saluted a greeting of Saluation before exclaiming, "Erin O'Creedy the name, labor be the game. Tanks fer the lift lad."

Another series of musket balls whized around, and Erin ducked again out of range of the fire.

09/16/2006 9:31 AM

Yllop, still slightly inebriated from before, waddled off of the captain's shoulders. All that running about and dancing behaviour had given Yllop quite the fine pain in the head. This needed to be remedied, and the loosed rum would do just fine.

Making his way to the bottom of the cart, more stumbling than anything else, really, Yllop started to lap up the precious liquid from the cart. Can't be wasting any of it. Once the cart was dry of the sacred liquid, Yllop tried to jump back on top of the barrles to face the newcommer, but only managed to fall on his back more than once.

Yllop imitated a drunken spanish pirate he had once heard, "Oh, my frikken' head. I'm so wasted."

09/16/2006 9:37 AM

"Aye ya little birdy. I wish I could say the same ting. Oh Holy mary in Heaven, I need me a drink!!!!"

Looking behind, Erin could see the boat was moving in fast, and the musket shots were dieing down with the distance. [i]SOmething isn't right ere'???[/i] Their speed was high, and the boat was close. Putting the realizations together Mr. O'Creedy yelped.

"BY THE SAINTS!!! We be movin too fast, sir!!!! I can stop of us if ya give me the go ahead!!!"

09/16/2006 11:02 AM

"Erin O'Creedy the name, labor be the game. Tanks fer the lift lad."

"Oh, it's my pleasure, of course. Looked like you needed a hand, anyway." A lie. "Captain Randall Wil... Captain Randall'll do."

The big man's swaying on the cart nearly sent it toppling. Randall winced each time a wheel came off the ground. He didn't rightly feel like being sprawled in the street. It would be a laugh to see Yllop flying without meaning to, though.

That they were being shot at didn't help matters at all. The trouble was supposed to be Gunther's specialty. While his new passenger could duck behind the front of the cart, Randall could only take solace that his backside was a relatively small target.

"BY THE SAINTS!!! We be movin too fast, sir!!!! I can stop of us if ya give me the go ahead!!!"

He thought it over a moment. The first thing he thought had something to do with saints and why every scoundrel he met seemed to love them. After that passed, though, he realized they were bound for the harbor if they didn't stop themselves soon enough.

A musket ball whizzed past his ear. His whole body tensed as he let out a feeble whimper.

"Well, Erin," he hoped it was Erin, "if you've got any ideas, now would be a glorious time to prove yourself to an endangered captain."

09/16/2006 11:16 AM

"Aye Capn Randall!!!! Just nid a swig of this Rum to cool the nerves and numb the body."

The captain cocked his head again with confusion, or possibly distrust. Releasing his finger from the hole, Erin chugged down a large gulp of teh alcoholic fluid before re plugging his thumb in. Holding on to the edge of the cart, Erin put more wait on it.

"Alright Cap'n Brace yer self. Dis is going to be a we bit bumpy. I pray the Saints give me the strength i need."

The Captain again rolled his eyes at the Saint comment. Leaping out, his hands still grasping tightly, Mr. O'Creedy, lunged his feet onto the cobble stone path, tearing the treads of his worn out boots. Pushing with all his force, Erin swerved the cart back and forth attempting to slow it down. The spped had decreased but still not enough. In a last minute though, Erin O'Creedy swerved the cart all the way to the right making a neraly 90 degree angle, before doing it again back toward the now close boat. In front of the cart was a medium size slope, a ships ramp being built, that protruded over the water at an angle toward the Hangman. Aiming with gut instinct, Erin led the boat onto the ramp leaping it into the air where it headed directly for the ship.

10 feet above the ship Erin lost holding and dropped crashing hard into the wooden floor, crashing through to teh floor below. The cart however gluided smoothly to the center of the ship where it crashed down with a loud thud, and stopped all it's movement. The rum was safe. Thecaptain was Safe. However, the red Coats still charged.

09/16/2006 4:36 PM

Not many people see bird vomit, but Randall had already seen his fair share of it so it was apparently this O'Creedy fellow's turn to find out what it was all about. When the cart landed on the deck of the Hangman, Yllop bounced up and off the cart. Yllop flapped his wings, trying to fly, but the world kept spinning and spinning, making it impossible to retain his equilibrium. All Yllop could do was guide his fall onto a soft spot. The only "soft" thing, however, was the fallen form of the huge irishman. So off Yllop went for a dive straight onto his belly. The landing was quite harsh, and with the world still spinning and swerving from the cart ride, Yllop's poor little bird stomach just couldn't retain the rum. So it all came back out Yllop's beak and all over O'Creedy's shirt.

Yllop stood and rolled off the big man's round belly. He hit the floor with a thunk as his beak stopped him from rolling into a lantern nearby. Yllop had seen birds catch on fire before, and he desperately didn't want to become a flying fireball himself. Once all his extraneous motion had ceased (for the world still swirled, meaning that Yllop had to be still spinning somehow, though he seemed to be still), Yllop reguarded his landing pad and said, "Fork in the morning, spoon in the eve." What he meant, he wasn't sure, but some Frenchman had said it once, so it had to be important.

09/16/2006 11:26 PM

"SAINTS PERSERVE US!!!" Seamus yelled. he chased after Gunther, retrieving the axe in the process. "IM COMING BOYO!!!" he roared charging after the crowd that was chasing gunther.

09/17/2006 7:24 PM

They were stumbling over each other. Perfect. Gunther felt to check that his white shirt was totally obscured, then looked around for a place to disappear.

"SAINTS PERSERVE US!!!" Seamus yelled. he chased after Gunther, retrieving the axe in the process. "IM COMING BOYO!!!" he roared charging after the crowd that was chasing gunther.

Tonight was one to remember, sheerly for the amount of luck he was having. The rum-keeper spotted an alley and, as the distraction came, slipped in and took off his boots. Silent, he sprinted up to next street, turned right and ran to the next alley. He went along and, as he hoped, arrived in the alley they'd come from. The barrel they took was full of rum. They had plenty of that, and tonight risked much more than they normally would. Not fine enough for this lovely evening. Gunther took off his jacket, strolled into the pub and sat down before anyone could notice him. Not that there were many still inside.

"Your best brandy," he cheerily told the barkeep. "Three bottles. If you don't have that much, anything expensive. I feel like celebrating tonight."

09/18/2006 12:24 PM

Face down, The Dandy Highwayman still wriggled and squirmed around when suddenly the deck beneath him boomed with some kind of heavy impact. Fortunately for him, the force bounced his body upright enough for him to get up onto his knees and then stand up. To his great relief, with only a little more twisting he quickly managed to slip his arms into the troublesome waistcoat which he had been wearing as a straight jacket for several long minutes. Overjoyed to finally have the use of his arms once again, he was unable to prevent himself doing a little dance move as he turned to see what had caused the sudden impact...

09/18/2006 7:35 PM

Mari had studied the Drunken Bastard as he offer for her to alight on his shoudler and quickly hopped over with the promise that she would be doing something important.

She much prefered the seat of choice, which was on the Capitan's shoulder, but she was needed and that was something she could not refuse. The little monkey puffed out her chest and bounced lightly on the Wild Drunken Bastard's shoulder as he moved toward the alley where the rum was being unloaded from the cart.

She paid close attention to what was happening, her hand still clutched around the dagger she had collected earlier. There were a few men, a pretty lady and a large cart full of barrels.

As it seemed that trouble was a brewing, Mari had hopped off the Wild Drunken Bastard's shoudler and into the cart istself while things sorted themselves out. Only they didn't and she ended up taking a wild ride down the hill with the Captain, the bird and O'Creedy.

With the landing of the cart on the ship's deck Mari cowered in the cart. When all seemed still again, she crept slowly from her hiding place among the barrels.

Mari dry heaved a little before regaining her composure and hopping off the cart. She slowly walked her way across the deck then settled herself in some netting reserved for the transport of crates. She was in need of some rest.

09/18/2006 7:54 PM

Standing in the Dark and Dusty hull of the Darkened Ship, O'Creedy inspected the room he had fallen into. Looking to the floor, he frowned at teh damage he had done. Whispering to himself, "I be fixen dat shortley." O'creedy left teh room heading up the deck stairs to the. Peering ovewr the edge of the boat, Erin prayed the Soldiers had lost their way on the dust and noise. Luckily, the regiment seemed to be in a daze simply looking around teh duck for a possible getaway boat. The British Officer in charge waltzed over to the bottom of the Ramp to the Hangman....[/i] O' no, I have gotten them into some kinda trouble now!!! Saints please show the british dogs away.[/i]

Staying hidden, Erin awaited to see what the Pirates would do. [i]Boy I don't blame dem if dey be handen me over here.[/i]

"This the Royal British Army... We are in pursuit of a fugitive. Permission to board and inspect the ship..."

Mr. O'Creedy's heart sank at the words, and simply waited to see what the pirates would do.

09/20/2006 2:34 PM

Seamus was relieved when it seemed that Gunther got away from them, but as he was about to turn and leave, the whole crowd turned around and saw him "OI!! he's with them! Get 'em lads!" "Blessed mary," seamus said before he turned and ran back toward where he had thrown the keg of rum. The angry mob right on his heels

12/10/2006 6:00 PM

After what seemed an eternity, Captain Randall realized he was still breathing. His entire body was as rigid as the planks of his ship as he rolled off the cart and fell in a heap on the deck. His vision wavered in and out of focus as he raised his head off the cold wood.

Dandy was dancing. Which reminded him... "Where the bloody hell have you been?" Nevermind the fact that he only now realized he'd been gone.

"This the Royal British Army... We are in pursuit of a fugitive. Permission to board and inspect the ship..."

The captain's eyes went wide as his muscles knotted again. That they were after a fugitive was of no help. He could provide them several. He had a feeling, what with all the shooting, that it was the man that had fallen off the cart that they were after. Speaking of which...

He carefully crawled to the edge of the hole the large man had made. Peering through the cloud of dust, he saw faint movement below. "Erin!" He hoped it was Erin... Damned Irish tongue. "Stay there... and for the love of Christ, shut up!"

"This is a final warning. Allow us to board, or everyone is under arrest!"

Captain Randall grimaced as he performed a fast crawl to the ships railing. With both hands firmly clasped on the side, he popped his head up, only for it to become the target of a half-dozen muskets.

"Evening, gents," he said with a wry grin. "Anything I can do for you?"

"Is this your vessel?"

"That it is, but I'm afraid she's not for sale."

The head of the soldier's below grumbled to himself. "Listen! We're not out to buy your ship. There is a fugitive on the loose!"

"Then you ought to be catching him instead of ogling my ship, don't you think?"

"We have reason to believe he's on your ship!"

The captain narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side. "And how do you figure that?"

"Because we just saw the sonofabitch land on it!"

"Oh, I see... I suppose that's a good reason."

"We're coming aboard!" With that, the commander of the troops headed up the gangplank, followed by his men.

"Right-o!" Randall called back as he pulled himself to his feet and dusted himself off. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he motioned to Dandy to join him. "Just follow my lead... and don't look like such a fugitive." If he had time to think about it, he'd wonder just what in the hell that meant.

12/10/2006 10:13 PM

Vision hazed again, Gunther slowed to a brisk walk. To throw off attention if anything - his damp socks didn't make any sound on the cobble road. Redcoats, it looked like, ahead. The bar staff behind him, looking twice as hard now. Finishing with a drink-and-run was obligatory. He could laugh about it tomorrow - for now, he had two gangs to handle. He moved fast toward the one with their backs to him, trying to catch his crewmates' gaze. At best, they had more weapons to throw him. At worst, it'd make the guards see him. Gunther's feet made no sound against the boardwalk. He stopped dangerously close to their backs, grinned at his mates and pushed a finger to his lips - teeth, technically.

12/11/2006 8:56 AM

Yllop woke with a start. Had he been dreaming? Or had nothingness truly enveloped him for a while? Who knows? Parrots aren't supposed to think of such things! So Yllop decided to forget anything happened and flew up to the crow's nest. Here, he could get a good view of everything that's going on. Drunken sot in the cargo hold. Captain and big-nose trying too hard to act nonchalant. Redcoats comming up the gangplank with big-boy behind them with a mischevious look on his face. My, but things were going to get interesting again. Quick.

Quick? Time? Bah! Again, things that parrots don't really understand. Yllop took off again, and decided that he needed to be a little lighter to maintain any sort of prolonged flight, so he emptied his waste. It just so happened to fall on the shoulder of one of the redcoats . . .

12/14/2006 1:38 PM

It was almost as if time had ceased to exist around Kip. He looked to either side to realize he'd been kneeling on the ground for nearly and hour with his knives in hand, all alone.
"What the hell?" He started as he turned to see a large compliment of soldiers and the ship several feet away. He couldn't quite hear what they were saying but he was sure that yelling was bad and guns were worse. Just then he spotted a rather drunken sailor that had crept impressively close and he rushed to his side to place a hand on his shoulder and a knife in his palm. His other knife went directly over the belt of the occupied "commander". He signaled to Gunther something along the lines of "on the count of three" and prayed this would work...

12/14/2006 9:43 PM

With the Dandy Highwayman at his side, Randall tried unsuccessfully to stifle a sigh. "Oh, shit... This is going to be bad," he muttered to the man at his side.

"Welcome aboard, gents." He beamed a smile at the boarding troops. "This would be my humble Hangman."

The commander sneered as he surveyed the deck. "Charming, I'm sure."

The captain's faux smile faltered. "She really is a wonderful ship... aside from this hole here... but that should be fixed soon."


The men advanced onto the ship, fanning out as they did, two pirates close behind.

"What's in the cargo hold?" the commander asked as he approached the newly-born hole in the deck.


The officer grinned in spite of himself. "Cute. What else?"

"Fugitives. Clearly."

It was now or never for whatever Gunther had in mind. Captain Randall prepared himself for whatever the Crazy Drunken Bastard was going to do. He'd had plenty of experience with the wild man's ways.

12/18/2006 12:33 AM

Gunther kept close to the guards' left flank, then half-felt a friendly hand on his shoulder. He accepted the knife with a smile. Kip signalled something; he didn't get it, shrugged and hacked at the guard's neck.

Gunther promised himself as much sleep as he wanted tomorrow - after these men were dealth with. That invigorated him.

12/19/2006 11:18 AM

The Dandy Highwayman's sudden and extreme change in fortunes prompted him to choose avoiding another scuffle for today. Quickly glancing around the deck he noticed an open barrel. While all eyes were stunned watching Gunther slide a knife into a man's neck, Dandy was disappearing feet first and pulling the lid firmly in place above his head.

12/19/2006 2:22 PM

Footsteps echoed above from the wooden gangway. Mr. O'Creedy had recovered enough to move. However silence was not one of his best attributes. Reaching backward, Erin picked up a free flask of Ale, and in one gulp he finished the entire bottle. [i]Oh Damn ye British Dogs.[/i] Standing up, Erin pushed himself to the farthest corner into the shadows, above the tricornered hats of the British Officers poking over the edge. Time was running out.

Finally a godsend appeared before his eyes. Feet in Front of him lie a large cloak. Reaching for it, Erin covered his large burly body. Getting to his knees, he began to pick up the boxes of rum and stack them.

"THERE!!!" The commander yelped ash is soldiers pointed muskets into the hole. "You there, who are you ad what is your business."

Forcing a more refined British accent Erin spoke, " Oh me? I'm just working with this fine Captain till I get to America with him. In return for transport he is giving me labor."

The commander looked to the Captain. Erin hoped the lie would be picked up by his new circumstantial comrade. "Is this True Captain?" He hesitated in answering. "Captain I demand your answer this instance. I will not hesitate to invoke my authority andh ave you detained for contempt of law!"

12/20/2006 4:55 PM

Gunther kept close to the guards' left flank, then half-felt a friendly hand on his shoulder. He accepted the knife with a smile. Kip signalled something; he didn't get it, shrugged and hacked at the guard's neck.

Kip remembered that rule now...never give a drunk a knife! Well, he had wanted bloodshed and so this was his wish come true he guessed.

Kip hacked into the belt of the "commander" and pushed hard as his breeches fell to his knees, sending him toppling into the hole in the deck as kip's focus changed to the two other armed men to his right. He could only hope someone would finish what Gunther started as he ducked under the arms of a turning soldier and stood up between them to kiss him full on the lips.
"HUZZAH! A fugitive I do admit I am!" and the startled soldier backed into a readied bayonet. Just then a shot was fired and the ball of the musket blew easily through the soft tissue of the soldier's stomach into Kip's side.

"Well this is fucking great! DANDY!!!Fetch a pail and...some..."*thud*

01/10/2007 2:02 AM

(Oh, I'm back by the way)

Watching the man fall, seeing his entire crew ready to help against the reduced Redcoat numbers - but not focusing on anything else, Gunther figured he could rest. They owed it to him.

He stumbled aross the deck, sheathed the knife under his belt and turned to the captain ...

"We'd better head off after this, eh? Fun while it lasted!"

... And swayed back down, to the quarters.

01/17/2007 2:05 PM

Yllop flew back and alighted himself atop the captain's left shoulder. "Avast ye scurvy scum, shove off!"

Even though humans seemed to think they knew everything, Yllop realized they would be utterly lost without him. Already too much had transpired at this particular port. If they were to have any chance of survival, they would have to make scarce this place. Yllop generally let the captain give orders to let him feel as if he were in command, but in situations like this, a parrot had to do what a parrot had to do.

01/21/2007 5:19 PM

Opening the door back to the Topside, Mr. O'Creedy could see the Redcoats were in retreat, and the Pirates were now in double time. O'Creedy was ashamed he had caused such a problem for this crew. He knew he was in debt to them.

Wobbling over toward the man he had ridden here with, he took another swig of alcohol, something he had commandeered from the hold he landed in. He would need the alcohol to keep his edge as he apologized. Tapping the shoulder of the man, Mr. O'Creedy bowed in true Irish fashion.

"Top O' the Day ta ya young lad. I must apologize fer the mess me brought upon ye dis fine day. Aye, I am truly in debt to you and yer crew. Is there anyway I could repay ya?"

01/25/2007 4:37 PM

Yllop wasn't sure what the source of human laziness was, but obviously it had gotten a hold of the entire crew. People were moving about lathargically, especially the captain. Wasn't it supposed to be the captain's duty to keep morale up and people moving about doing stuffs? Well, Yllop supposed that meant he was the captain since it seemed that he was the one to do all those things.

Yllop lifted off from the captain's shoulders and flew about the deck screaming orders that he had heard the captain shout off on occasion, "Secure the line! Man the tiller! Pull the anchor! Swab the poop deck!" Yllop wasn't sure how cleaning the ship was supposed to make it leave port any quicker, but it was usually best to cover all bases. After he had given the crew orders, he alighted himself back on the captain's shoulder. "She's all yours, mate." Yllop informed Randall. Sometimes, being the top animal around was difficult Yllop acceeded. It was nice to have an underling to do some of the dirty work for you when you were tired. That was the captain's spot.

The RPG Consortium - http://www.rpgconsortium.com