Landlocked - The Scarlet Hydra, 27th of Chryil, MT

[Ezekiel Lee]

Ezekiel, wiping at the beer on his already fairly stained shirt impassively (for it was not too much, and one fight was probably enough for this morningtide, at least until he finished bleeding), raised his eyebrows as much as he could given one was smothered by shirt sleeve, and made an expression that communicated clearly bullshit. This stranger's story was taller than the so-called dragon he claimed. He allowed the lady to speak first, of course, before chiming in his own opinion in a languid tone.

"I think I heard this one, mate. An' after the ship went down, y'sailed into harbour on the back of a sea serpent, yes? After y'rescued thirty nekkid amunic slaves an' found the lost treasure a' T'aquar..." Zeke grinned cockily, the effect somewhat spoiled by being half obscured by sleeve. He downed the spirits provided by the bar wench in one go, and made an appreciative noise. "Ahh, much better." He seemed finished with Marcello (and not even knowing the stranger's name), and turned his attention to Estella, who was conveniently addressing the Dortman cordially.

"The Captain's offer is appreciated." Zeke shrugged, indicating his complete lack of decision as of yet. "It's surely time ta go ta sea." He felt the pull of it strongly, though this was hardly an unusual feeling for any experienced sailor. Making an expansive gesture, he added, "An' the pointy ear may be short, but no captain or hand worth 'is salt abandons 'is ship, even in the face a' dragons..." real or no "...tha's a hangin' act, ain't it?" Another shrug, that comment left to air for a moment. "Leastways, I wouldn't sail wiv less."

[Grant]

"Hic hic hic hic hic hic hic Hic!" gapped the barmaid after slamming Zeke's spirits upon the bar. Whether she laughed at Zeke's comments, Marcello's recount of the Sea Mistress, or the results of the recent brawl was uncertain, but she clearly seemed pleased. "Well don't that beat all? Two castaways in a single day! We had another 'un late last night...came in lookin' almost as bad as you, dearly," crooned the barmaid...though something else passed over her face, an expression of thoughtful reflection as she nodded to the trio and slipped away to help put the room to rights.

The ambiance of the tavern more or less fell to a more reasonable level of cacophony, with tables thrown upright and various patrons returning to the tables they had abandoned earlier. The barmaids...there were three...quickly set about refilling spilled drinks and returning the public room of the Scarlet Hydra back to rights. One of the barmaids took up a pail of sawdust or sand that she dusted casually over most of the wet patches.

Elsewhere...

The scrawny man considered the ragged Harpies critically. They were clearly experienced...and they were clearly still unified. Indeed, there were only six of them...but they might do nicely. Rising up, the weather-beaten man moved towards the tall one...the ebony gentleman who helped the most injured among them up. "Beggin' yer pardon, sar...but maybe you let me buy you another round...an maybe here a bit of a proposal of me own?" he offered, gratified by the three pairs of eyes that were still at the table and still capable of attending to anything.

Quietly, the old sailor seated himself with the remainder of the Harpies and told them stories of his own.

[Marcello di Angelo]

"A sea serpent? I should be so lucky, no sirrah," Marcello declared, not in the least ashamed regarding the validity of his claims. That was hardly the point was it? "No, at the very last the dragoness, for I'm certain it was a she, such a cold stubbornness to her hunt, she ate Hawkins whole, simply flying down and gobbling him up. All that was left standin' were his boots. Her weight crushed the Sea Mistress and she sank like lead, then a large wave, caused by the bitch's breath drowned the last survivors. Now, by the luckiest coincidences I managed to get into a rowing boat in time, before said crash. I simply rode the wave out, from its highest point. From there I rowed to the Gate. Took me a while. Forgot me parasol." He winked at Estella.

"Castaway? Tell me about him then," Marcello called to the barmaid and to keep her attention added "And another one for the three of us. This beer is best I had in some time." He laughed. Yes, it felt good to be alive and get drunk.

[Charlotte Estella Riddens]

"Really, I thought it'd be the dragon's fire breath had given you that charming shade of brown," remarked Estella at Marcello's tale, grinning. "But a cold beer heals whichever wounds, ya? - and all the more when you've just sailed in."

One just coming in, the other one just heading out. And the first one likely to head out very soon, too. Didn't these people know to take it easy fer a while? Estella glanced from Marcello to the new boy with an amused smile. Short on coin, aye? she guessed of the latter. That seemed to be the general rule around these parts - stay landlocked until the coin has all been spent on booze and whores, then take to the seas and earn some more to spend likewise at the next port.

"Seems alternatives might be croppin' up, nonetheless," Estella pointed out to Zeke, nodding towards the table where the smaller fighting party had been approached by a grizzled fellow who seemed to have business on his mind.

[Ezekiel Lee]

Zeke followed Estella's gaze and watched his erstwhile companions and shipmates with some interest for a moment or two. Whatever the old stranger wanted, there appeared to be free beer in it; this was enough to make Ezekiel more curious than perhaps he might have been otherwise. After a long moment, the young sea rover shrugged comfortably, and inspected his bloodied shirt sleeve, following this up with touching at his brow to find if it were still bleeding (which it was, somewhat). Eventually, he sniffed and glanced at the other ex-Harpies once more before replying to Estella.

"The view is finer here than there, chick." He grinned at Estella reasonably and raised his eyebrows, apparently considering this a perfectly sensible decision.

(It often took him this long to make up his mind about anything he considered important. Zeke could be a very thoughtful man if the occasion warranted it.)

Besides, he saw no particular hurry. If it were important, he would hear about it from the other ex-Harpies directly; he trusted their integrity as much as his own, and was certain if an extra hand were needed (or perhaps a man capable of abstract thought), he would be called over without delay. In the meantime, none of his shipmates had quite the figure this lass did, and that was enough reason to speak with her some more.

"Ye may gut me fer a preacher, but I don't believe I heard yer name yet. An' 'm sure you'd prefer yer given t' chick, lassie." Zeke smiled disarmingly, and gestured to himself with bloody fingers, "Ezekiel Lee, of the former Black Harpy. An' yerself?"

[Charlotte Estella Riddens]

Estella raised an eyebrow at Zeke and smiled. "Pleased to meet you, Ezekiel," she observed, "but I'm afraid you're gonna need to work on those looks to have a chance on the ladies that can't be paid to it, ya? You know..."

The girl made a point of studying the man's bloodied face for a moment. "Piece of good advice to you, Ezekiel, from Estella Riddens." Estella gestured to herself, taking on an overly serious voice mixed with the tone of a good laugh. "Rough is good, sure enough, just make sure of the following, yes? First, that you don't end up with one or two single teeth, okay? - not pretty at all, better to stay with a reasonably intact row. Secondly, keep on to your legs - tree legs aren't really attractive, believe it or not. And finally - keep on to your hands too, as hooks are even worse than tree legs. No lady feels real safe within the reach of a hook, I tell you. After all, how do I know they remember that's a hook they have in place of their hand, not the hand they're used to. They might come to try things on me that work significantly better with hands than hooks, see?"

Grinning, Estella glanced over at Marcello as well, introducing her two new acquaintances for each other while on it. "That wisdom goes for you too, Marcello, as well as for Ezekiel here. And Ezekiel, this friendo over here is Marcello Angel," she continued. "At least that's the name he goes by just today..." ...alluding to the slight indecision in Marcello's introduction earlier... "...of the former Sea Mistress and currently Captain of that fine ship the one-man rowing boat that escaped a dragon. Correct?" The girl offered the the sunburnt yarn-spinner an excessive smile.

[Ezekiel Lee]

Zeke roared with laughter at her tongue-in-cheek advice, displaying (albeit briefly) a set of rather fine teeth, conspicious for their collective presence bar a small gap of two on the left side of his jaw. "Aye, missie, yer words are surely good for any man of the water!" He wiggled his fingers at her suggestively, "But despite my war paint, I am still in possession of a full set of limbs, thank the gods. An' I must wonder at the mind of any woman who goes lookin' for a whole man among the merry company... if completeness is her goal, she surely could do far better for herself on the other side of the law!"

He shrugged comfortably once more, grinning at her, and leaned in as if sharing something confidential. "An' once I heard told of a Captain who kept more than one attachment for his horrid stump, changin' 'em as to suit his needs... A hook was the very least of 'em!" Zeke winked at Estella with very little subtlety, a laughing grin still on his bloody face.

To Marcello, Ezekiel offered a nod of acknowledgement and, still in this merry mood, he quipped, "If that be yer name today, Captain Angel, y'must remind me what ta call ye tomorrow an' the next day... Myself, I am always Lee... though I confess I have little memory for unnecessary complexity! Have ye any idea of yer next fantastic voyage, then? Or are ye as of yet unsigned, like meself?"

[Grant]

Indeed, Zeke's wound finally stopped bleeding quite so badly, dulling to a slow trickle at best. Sadly, a healthy dose of blood made it to the buccaneer's shirt, stains that most likely wouldn't come out without a great deal of effort and soaking (a rather common stain in Nether's Gate, all told). The barmaid had taken to refilling beers in the wake of the brawl, thoughtlessly refilling for the trio at the bar (though the fight had never come anywhere close to them).

"Castaway?" repeated Annie towards Marcello, as she dunked dozens of tankards into her stove barrel and placed the replacements upon the table for the barmaids to grab up and distribute. "Oh, aye...came in on a dingey marked....Don Rollo or something of the like? A Mouthie ship, by the sound of her, though the castaway ain't no Mouthie by the looks of 'em. Royal, if you ask me, prolly even a Roque. Ah..." Annie turned her head around and spotted the scrawny man seated with the ex-Harpies in the corner. "That's him right there. Never seen him around here before Eveningtide last..."

That would be telling. Marcello knew as well as any privateer that the staff at the Scarlet Hydra knew every privateer, buccaneer, and corsair that frequented the Dusk Sea...and if the bar wench hadn't heard of the Don Rollo, than it certainly wasn't a marked ship. There weren't endless numbers of corsairs on the Dortese Main...and while they had a tendency to come and go like the weather, they were seldom forgotten too quickly.

[Charlotte Estella Riddens]

Sex toys for pirates lacking limbs was not among Estella's expert fields. The use of such a topic as a sort of a chatting-up strategy was also a novel experience to her. Ezekiel-boy here is creative though, I'll grant him that much.

"For the record, handsome," she pointed out, flashing her teeth, "no one said I was here lookin’ for a man, did they, whether complete or incomplete. Though, obviously, I do realise that this might be difficult to comprehend when considering the current congregation of fine, willing, virile, bloodied and sunburnt pirates present. Right?"

Following the barmaid's new information on the newcomer stranger, Estella cast another glance at the fellow. As far as Estella knew, she had never seen a royal before in her life, and though she really couldn't care less whether someone's blood was red or blue, she was still a little disappointed that he did not look more different than he did. Flamboyant and flaunting noblemen, like in the stories, made for much more entertainment. After all, how do you pull a joke about a seemingly neutral and quiet chip like this one? If indeed he is a royal at all.

"So, what's to prefer...Ezekiel, Marcello..." Estella asked with a laugh. "Mysterious nobleman's ship or small adhiel's ship?"

[Ezekiel Lee]

Zeke raised his hands, not guilty, m'lady!, and laughed, "Aye, yer quite right there, chick - nobody suggested you were 'ere lookin' fer a man inna dive such as this. I am sure no such words ever crossed me lips!" He was enjoying sparring with the young lassie; she had a wit to her, which was refreshing.

As Estella indicated the stranger with the other ex-Harpies once more, Zeke followed her gaze and watched him thoughtfully. "Ye think this dingey our lady a'the'bar describes counts as a ship? I think not, meself." ...but this does strike me as strange. For what would a castaway wish with a crew if 'ee has no ship? An' there'll be no reason he's talkin' to the Harpies otherwise; bless their tarnished souls, but they were never men of wise conversation.

He kept these thoughts to himself, behind a mouthful of beer, his eyes on his crewmates. "I hear the Myrmidon is due into port tradetide, an' Dupree is always lookin' fer able hands. I'd call 'im yer safest bet if yer lookin' fer a new home at sea, lassie." Ezekiel nodded to Estella peaceably - in truth, he had been considering the Myrmidon himself. She had her own disadvantages, of course... but all ships and all crews did, and at the moment she might be the sweetest Nether's Gate had to offer. And not all disadvantages were outright disadvantages to a man of a certain ambition... for it was said the Myrmidon was a shot-rollin' ship... Ezekiel considered a place on that particular vessel might provide opportunities he might not receive under the command of Linasis.

Typically, he had made no decision yet, and illustrated this with another of his lazy shrugs. He preferred to think heavily before speaking or acting, and the nature of his own direction required heavy thought indeed. Setting his beer mug down upon the bar easy, he got to his feet and stuck his thumbs in his belt. "Pleasure to meet ye, chick. Perhaps I shall see ye again, sometime, an' enjoy more of yer conversation." He nodded to her, politely, a grin on his face, and with that opted to make his way over to the other Harpies and see what was about. The more he considered it, the stranger this stranger appeared; and there was nothing quite like a pirate's curiousity for the strange.

[Guest]

Tabbetha stood in the door way of the Hydra looking for a table to sit at. Her sea chest slung on top of her left shoulder. She was dressed in her finery. A Tricorn hat, a white veil, her white bodice, black leather breeches, white hose, polished black boots, her black frock coat and weapons bandoleer.

She moved to the bar to ask for a room, and a drink. As she walked, she noticed the sand piles on the floor. She knew from being in bars at the Duchy that a fight must have just ended. Her suspicions were confirmed when she spied a stunning you man with a bit of blood on his shirt. He seemed to be quite taken with a pretty lass, she sighed, such the pity.

She turned to wait for her drink, and the cost of a room.

[Marcello di Angelo]

"Captain Marcello di Angelo, at your service master Lee" Marcello laughed, giving him a most foppish bow, sweeping his tricorn before him "I think I shall stick with that name." He gave Estella an apologetic grin, not out of any regret for his improvisation "Sorry love, for a flicker Mouthie names were a trifle unpopular and I didn't want to fight before my beer was finished. I was really thirsty." He honestly didn't care if that painted him a cautious man. He preferred to think of it as clever.

Despite the proclivity of pirates of the Gates there were no bloodstains on Marcello's clothing, reeking of the sea as they might be. He was rather meticulous in avoiding them in fact, especially since in most cases the blood would be his own, a rather distasteful thought. Besides. Stains were not really fashionable.

He listened to Annie's words while he observed another woman entering, his eyes going over the muscular ravenhaired beauty with relish. He gave Tabbetha an inviting smile, showing his white, perfect teeth. He was rather meticulous on keeping them whole too. Of course his skin was red, blistered at some points and all in all he didn't really strike a handsome poise, but that didn't stop Marcello in employing his charm.

"Don Rollo," the pirate pondered, "Well, that sounds Mouthie indeed, but then there are almost more Mouthies outside of that town than that there are in it, what with vendetta after vendetta emptying the town." He tore his eyes from the shapely lady to observe the man to see if he looked at all familiar. "Roque you say? Perhaps he's a noble," he laughed to Annie "down on his luck."

He turned to Estella and Zeke again, his eyes narrowing a fraction as he recalled rumours "Master Lee here is right. The Myrmidon holds promise. Ah, but the Don Rollo promises to be an interesting tale too." He turned to Tabbetha, his eyes not entirely focused upon her face "Here love, have a beer from me and join us. What tales do you have to tell?"

[Guest]

Tabbetha removed her veil, even through that was not were he was looking. She gentle lifted his chin, mockingly dabbed at it a bit with her veil and looked Marcello square in the eyes.

She grabbed the drink and swallowed it down with nae a breath to spare. She split no drops and smiled at the man as she placed the empty mug back on the bar.

"You ask me for a tale, yet I be in no mood for salt dogs who be chasing tails." "So I be askin you plainly." "Is it off to bed you wish me to be?"

"Or is the measure of your manhood just a tale you will tell to me?"

She placed a single finger over his lips in a hushing motion, and leaned in close. She whispered. " You talk to much." "Do you have a room?"

[Charlotte Estella Riddens]

Estella saluted Ezekiel fondly in farewell for now. A perfectly decent and amiable boy, she decided of the bloody pirate, hoping this foreign stranger meant good news for the likeable fellow.

The girl turned again to the also likeable Marcello, pondering his words. That was true, of course...she'd sitten around in the Hydra for too long already, waiting for a ship that was unlikely to ever arrive. At some point she would need to find a vessel, to sign onto somewhere, before the coin ran out. The Myrmidon though, that's not always a pretty story, from what I've heard. But just as Estella was about to share her wisdom with buddy Marcello, a beautiful black-haired gal descended on the poor man.

Now, generally, except when it came to adhiel, Estella did not have a habit of judging people before she had exchanged at least a few words with them. However, people obviously thinking way too much of themselves, believing the whole damn world and everyone in it should fall at their feet just like that in admiration - such people held little respect with Estella's egalitarian mindset. Hell, just because you've got a pretty face and can down a beer like that, doesn't mean you consistently need act too big for your own boots, lass, ya?

Locating Annie to have someone to share her immediate dislike with, Estella raised her eyebrows and gave the friendly barmaid a telling glance as the new girl made herself comfortable with Marcello. Then she set an incredulous gaze upon the two of them. I really hope this girl is joking? - Marcello's too blistered up to be that attractive, anyhow...

People who just like that took advantage of others, like this lady obviously was with Marcello right now unless she was up to some sick joke, held little respect with Estella. Whether Marcello would consider a trip to the hussy’s room being taken advantage of or not, was irrelevant. If Marcello fell for something that cheap...well, Estella held equally little respect for those who let themselves be taken advantage of like that, when they should know better.

[Grant]

Indeed, Estella was gratified to see a certain reaction in the barmaid as well. Turning to refill Tabbetha's mug (cups never remained empty for long in the Hydra), she rolled her eyes briefly at the newcomer's remarks to Marcello before fixing her attention on Estella. "Probably not a nobler, so to speak...but definitely from the Kingdoms. King's Court, Roque, maybe one of the rural jobs...anywhere but World's Mouth. You know how they speak there..." she glanced briefly at Marcello as if to emphasize "...all of them signors and salutes and vio con Deus and the like. That one? He's more of Roque. Refined enough ta be a noble's servant, but he ain't polished enough ta be one of 'em. If ya ask me, His Majesty just lost another ship, and that 'un made off with one of the boats."

While Tabbetha couldn't be considered unfamiliar with the faces in Nether's Gate (they were shockingly familiar to those from the former Nether's Gate or the former former Pirate's Duchy), the new location was still a mystery. Located on the Isle of Rande in the middle of the Dusk Sea (which, in itself, made up the large delta of islands guarding the Mer de la Luna), the new "town" (if it could earn such a title, given that the entire settlement might fit inside the shipyards of Roque or the bond houses of World's Mouth) hosted all new buildings, sights, and the occasional new person. Nothing in the town was more than a yahren old, with the possible exception of White Man...the curious, ancient ruin that dominated one end of the little island. For this reason, it came as something of a shock to Tabbetha to learn that the Hydra didn't yet have proper rooms for let, as it remained incomplete. All it could boast for now was a few large dormitories filled with cots, hammocks, and blankets where one might rest (or entertain) if necessary.

"Of course he didn't leave empty-handed," added Annie as she leaned against the bar and gave Estella a shrewd look. It was a gossiping look if ever anyone had seen one...and Annie was known throughout the Western Ocean as having the most...and the best...gossip to tell. "He rented a cot upstairs last night, and bought it with this..." She dug into her pocket and produced the fee she herself had collected the night before (though she had yet to surrender the fee to the Hydra's owner, whoever that might be). Placing it on the bar, it proved to be a tiny, misshaped lump of lustrous, green metal.

Gold. At least mostly gold, though it had to be mixed with something else to give it such a strange color...probably silver. The resulting quarter ounce of electrum would be shockingly valuable to those who dealt in such things.

Elsewhere...

"I swear it! A ton of the stuff, plus my own weight again! Just imagine it..." The little man appeared to be pleading with four of the former Harpies. Zeke had clearly arrived in time to hear the tail end of what could only be a very sophisticated and cosmopolitan negotiation of terms.

"Fuck you, mate," came Mad's reply, clearly unimpressed with the stories he heard from the wiry, emaciated man...but not after a brief pause (perhaps a pair of flickers) while every man at the table calculated the value of a ton of precious metal. "Ye full of shit. Begone."

"You don't believe me?!?" barked the little man, clearly a veteran of the sea despite his thin and weak appearance. "So what if you don't believe me? Two days is all I ask. Two days to go see for yourselves. Is it not worth a couple of days?"

"Ye fellows do as you wish," waved Mads, rising from the table. "Goo w'this dog if you want to waste times. I will sign with Linasis tomorrow."

[Ezekiel Lee]

Zeke watched Mads depart with a very stoic look - the tall Amunic man was no doubt most sensible, but it was a shame he would sign on with Linasis. Ezekiel himself thought he probably would not, and thus there would be a parting of ways. Allowing his former companion to go in peace (for he felt certain there was no reasoning with the man once he had decided the stranger was full of shit, and besides, Zeke might agree with him directly), the Dortman took a seat casually and immediately began to question the little stranger in a very direct manner.

"Ye say jus' two days? An' with what? Yon barmaid tells ye came ashore in nought but a little dingey, an here ye are, bargainin' with all of four men a' the sea, since it appears our Mads will not be havin' any a' yer stories... Four wasters won't be lifting a ton a' gold or a ton a' feathers into no dingey, sirrah, lest they all wish ta be meat fer the crabs." He paused, his own expression unmoved and skeptical, at best.

"Ye ain't gonna catch many takers if ye have no ship an' no plan, matey... an' it matters not how much booty ye claim to know of. Though help me, I hope ye will prove me wrong an' magick yer ship an' crew out a' the air directly... I doubt ye will, dog."

[Marcello di Angelo]

A lady with a veil was not a usual appearance in the Gate. Still that was not what stunned Marcello most. It was her talk, imitating pirate talk, which to his hears indicated she wanted to be taken, taken fast, as if she could not wait for him to procure a room (which despite his coin might prove difficult). Briefly Marcello pondered doing her on the bar instead. She was so willing. He was so horny. Perfect match.

Marcello watched her mouth, which did not miss one spot of beer. He reached down and kissed the side of her mouth, licking as if to remove the beer she never spilled. Then she put her finger on his mouth talking about his manhood, which right now was throbbing to attention. He swallowed. "No room no, but the bar's surface might just fit fine. I'm sure these gentlemen wouldn't mind?"

Of course, with a lady he would have spoken differently.. but there wasn't a lady in all the oceans that would enter the Scarlet Hydra looking like this, unless they were pirate. Still, Marcello all but expected a slap. It was part of the game.

[Guest]

"No room no, more the pity." Tabbetha looked around the bar. She could see the hypocritical looks that were judging her, and condemning her for her actions.

Thinking out loud. "Why is it that when a man pursue sexual pleasure, he is just being a man." "Yet let a woman pursue sexual pleasure, she is just being a whore." "To Nether with all of you and your narrow views. "After all it was Marcello who approached me first, and not the other way around."

As she leaned in close once again, Tabbetha sledded her hand down to gently massage him, she whispered these words into his ear. "Tis true I be no lady of high moral standing, but nor do I claim to be a woman o' the gutter."

Tabbetha took a half a step back then grab Marcello hard, and slowly increased her pressure.

"This will not be the time, nor the place." "If you have a proper place then I will be yours for the takin, if not then you must heave to."

Tabbetha firmly gripped the hilt of her large knife, with her free hand, just to strengthen her argument.

"So tell me lover what is it to be?"

[Charlotte Estella Riddens]

In Estella's mind, it wasn't really a matter of man or woman or of morals as such, but rather the general attitude of considering the other party to be some sort of prey simply to be taken advantage of, whether that party be male or female. Estella preferred people who treated other people as people. However, she was not going to pursue the matter with this girl hands deep down Marcello's pants.

The barmaid, meanwhile, put some peculiar facts on the table, and Estella's gaze ran from the gold coin to the man negotiating business with Ezekiel and his mates. "You don't say..." she said slowly. Not that riches and glory was the girl's primary goals in life, but the whole affair had strange ring to it. Placing a generous amount of coin on the bar for the beer and services so far, Estella offered a grateful grin to the barmaid. "Thanks, darling," she said, and left Marcello and his new acquaintance to develop their relationship further on their own, in favour of the the Ezekiel company.

The massive black fellow had just left the table, obviously not convinced by the tales of the Roque man, and Estella grabbed the free chair, though waiting to sit down. "Need someone to take his place?" she asked, appealing for acceptance from both parties at the table. "Got sort of clammy over there," the girl explained, nodding in the direction of the bar, where the the new lass was efficiently working Marcello's equipment.

No gold was on the table, Estella noted, and judging from the quick rejection of the black man, the scrawny fellow had for some reason played out his cards without showing off the bait. Strange.

[Marcello di Angelo]

It was funny how there was a difference in the way that Marcello had approached Estella and Tabbetha. He had left Estella alone the moment she had stated how far she was prepared to go. In fact he had been nothing short of a gentleman, strange as that may be for a pirate, treating her as his equal. A chum to talk to.

No such respect for Tabbetha, a woman pretending to be a lady, with haughty manners, who was right now grabbing his stiff manhood most firmly.. in the middle of a bar full of the most rotten scoundrels on this half of Tazlure without a person of authority in sight to prevent the inevitable from happening. In fact she challenged the entire bar with statements that begged to be proven wrong.

Then she touched her knife in a clear threat. Now that was not nice. A slap he expected. A few jeering words perhaps. A knife near his manhood however he could not appreciate at all. The beer in his blood only encouraged his suddenly dark mood. With a growl he hit her hand away from her knife and next moved to throw her over his shoulder. "Right, lets find us another location, dearie, and I'll show you want I like to do with knives." Somewhere behind the Scarlet Hydra would do just fine to get this out of his blood and serve a valuable lesson to the girl. After all she could hardly expect there to be a gentleman present on the entire isle.

Beer, Women and a Place to Sleep. Marcello was well on his way to satisfy his most immediate goals.

[Grant]

Estella was only vaguely aware that the scene behind her had quickly deteriorated into the kind of event that could only be considered common in Nether's Gate. The island lacked a ruler, guards, laws, or any kind of Social Protection save the kind of structure built by Force of Arms alone. This meant that people that didn't belong to a Pirate Company...to any company, for that matter...had no rights, while those that belonged to a strong, wealthy, and united crew had more rights than others. Power was the rule in Nether's Gate, and it had a tendency to change depending on which ship was sitting in harbor.

If she had been watching, she would have seen the pair of Sea Rovers come to an accord in terms of what they wanted...which was most likely sex. However, the circumstances of the accord might have still been up for negotiation based on the sudden smack of the towering, six foot three inch Marcello that knocked the tiny five foot, two inch Tabbetha's hand clear of her sheath and swept her up to go fulfill his end of the contract. Regardless of whether Tabbetha was about to be raped, or was about to get exactly what she wanted, wasn't entirely certain...but then again, that was a matter for law...and Nether's Gate was fresh out of anything like law and order.

Instead, Estella arrived in time to hear Zeke's challenge to the emaciated seaman.

"Oh, but I can get us a boat! Maybe somat small...a sixteen foot yacht or so should be enough see..." here the little man leaned forward, ignoring Mads' departure but embracing Estella's arrival, no doubt mistaking her for Zeke's lover, partner, or shipmate (or any combination of those). "Anything too big can't get to it, what with it bein' trapped within a barrier reef. I figure when the tide's up, we got about three feet o' keel space at most to slip over the reef. Why, a fifteen...twenty foot job could do that carryin' a ton o' metal by and by, if we shift her ballast. If'n you boyos are interested, we'll draw up an accord and go find us a boat. I'll throw in the cost fer a fittin' ketch from what I took from the treasure meself..."

With that, the wiry man reached into his pocket and drew out a small lump that was instantly familiar to Estella. It was green, in an almost sickly, ominous way...glinting improperly in the flickering light of the Hydra's oil lamps. It was gold, at least of a certain purity...a small, thumb-sized lump of impure electrum that certainly could afford a small boat to do the job.

"Alls I need are about a half dozen right hard tars to run the ship...and get rich w'me. The island's out near the Kracken, in the middle of the Greater Rande. I don't got a map, but I could find it w'me eyes closed," he said to the general silence following the presentation of the nugget. And he most likely wouldn't be lying, either: Parts of the Rande chains were so dense, islands could be easily seen from one to another. One might easily find their way back to a certain island with nothing more than a good view of the stars and a single, known island to use as reference.

Elsewhere...

Hauling hawser lines, cord, sacks of provisions...it was all part of a life at sea, and Marcello was as well-versed in it as Tabbetha. It didn't take much to knock away her weapon hand and suddenly haul the tiny girl up on his rather high shoulder, holding her by the very same sheath she sought to access.

"Hic hic hic hic hic hic hic!" gasped Annie, clearly amused at the pair. "Use the room to the right at the top o' the stairs, dearies! At least it 'as a door..." she barked, expecting Marcello to haul his catch to the stairs instead of the back door (both of which were readily before him). Not that it really mattered. Nothing got the common room laughing as well as the sound of a couple Sea Rovers entertaining each other upstairs. Well...nothing except perhaps when one of the pair didn't quite agree to the terms.

[Ezekiel Lee]

As the little man finished his pitch, Zeke shot a sidelong look at Estella, judging her reaction, and then turned back, eying the metal thoughtfully. With a calloused, sea-roughened hand he quickly picked up the object and turned it in the light, looking at it's odd, green-gold colour curiously.

So he thinks he can get a boat... hmm...

The truth was, articles with the Myrmidon or the Revenge would be a safer bet than this madcap story of treasure, six men in a small ship sailing through dangerous reefs for uncertain reward. But no man (nor woman neither) became a pirate for the safety... no, what a pirate wanted even more than rum, women, or a ship... was the treasure. Always the treasure. It had an almost magnetic lure.

"Y'got me attention, mate, I'll give ye that." Zeke placed the little lump of green metal back on the table with a soft thock and took the man's gaze. "But tell me this; how does a scrawny old seadog like yerself know of such a fortune in metal? Y'must know of how it came to be there, or ye wouldn't know of it at all... an' assuming we can get yer little yacht out there an' back, assumin' the weather stays fair an' no squall dashes us all to pieces on the reefs... assumin' all that, what terms are we talkin' about, mate? Seems ta me y'can't get t'this treasure at all wivout our aid, so I'm thinkin' the cut'll be a generous one, aye?"

It would be clear from Ezekiel's words that, despite himself, he was tempted. He trusted the stranger about as much as he trusted any man, dog, or pirate... so not at all... but the temptation of riches was far too strong not to hear the proposal out to the end, at least.

[Marcello di Angelo]

"Thank you Annie," Marcello called in a jolly way, ignoring the protests of the lady over his shoulder. He kept a firm grip as he made his way through the Inn, moving onwards to the stairs and taking them two steps at a time. Once there he threw upon the door the right, closing it behind them with a most final slam.

Picking up one of the many knives on his person he slowly let Tabbetha down, sliding past his muscular body, holding her hands easily behind her with one hand. He crushed her lips in a passionate, cruel kiss, while his other hand moved and started shredding her clothes to ribbons with his knife. He didn't look around for a bed. He didn't expect one to be there and he didn't need one. Why would he when a wall would suffice?

He let go of her lips for a moment, as he slammed her against the wall, removing the last shreds of her clothing before pushing her legs up around his hips. "Now, Mio Amore "he challenged with a mocking laugh "You now know I know me knives and for now it is just your clothes. One wrong move and I'm forced to shred much more. Lets just enjoy this, shall we?" He entered her roughtly, ignoring any protests or screams she might utter. Her hands were now free to do what they wished as he had to support her, yet she would be unable to reach any knives. With a groan of satisfaction he started to move.

(...)

It was a good five burns later that Marcello reappeared on the top of the stairs with a satisfied grin, readjusting his breeches as he walked down with a light step, a few scratches richer, but immensely pleased with himself.


OOC: proceeded with mod permission, so the PC is moved to the background for now.

[Charlotte Estella Riddens]

Taking a seat, Estella began gathering the facts presented by the ragged fellow. A ton of gold...two days away...hard to get by... The story was stinking, but those clumps of gold were real. The girl pursed her lips as friendo Ezekiel fired off another set of questions. There was no reason to keep it to those inquiries though, so Estella dug into the man herself too.

"And if, supposedly," she asked sharply, "this treasure is lying out there waitin', are you saying you came by this treasure all by yourself, aye? How about the rest of men gettin' to it along with you - why haven't anyone by now taken off with this alleged treasure long time ago?"

Estella didn't really care whether the man had already explained these issues before her arrival at the table. It wasn't only the answers, but also the general pressure put on him that may have his story slip, unless the tale might - incredibly - be intact. And being forced to repeat parts of a made-up plot was never easy, Ezekiel or his chips ought be able to pick up on it if the man began contradicting himself.

Meanwhile, Estella couldn't help but sensing...hearing...the outcome of Marcello's little adventure with the veiled woman. That's just what she deserved, goddamnit, the girl mused darkly, not quite happy with the bad influence taken by the otherwise good boy Marcello. However, there was no time for considering that - she needed to make a qualified decision with regards to this professed treasure. Estella sat back in her chair, studying the Roque boy.

[Grant]

The brief...and somewhat violent...interlude in the above chamber provided some amusement for the patrons below, and brought many to attend to the woman's sea chest. Most sailors had a sea chest...she had been no different...and hers had already been thrown open and inspected. Few took any great interest in the newcomer's belongings, though...there was little beyond changes of clothing. A couple of fishermen...no doubt the pair that had discovered the chest...were actually folding the clothes and returning them to the chest carefully, as if they felt some kind of guilt rifling through her belongings. This curious act was the first that Marcello noticed as he decended the stairs alongside the amused glances of several of the inn's nearby patrons.

Elsewhere...

For a very brief moment, the wiry, weathered seaman said nothing, an expression of blank confusion falling over his face as Zeke's and Estella's questions finally demonstrated their concerns. "Mates..." he started slowly, "I never said fer a moment I found this here treasure alone. My ship were wrecked...the Seeker out of Roque...and all hands were lost, save me an two mates of mine. After a bit of wanderin, we was picked up in the Mer Bay a few days back by a revenue ship out o' the Mouth...Don Rollo, she was...an I escaped aboard one of her dingeys. My mates was clapped in irons, what w'bein pirates an all, an they're headed to World's Mouth. Me mates...well...they're right bastards. But they'll talk. Give them Mouthies a tide, and they'll 'ave the Seekers singin up a tune about how we found a great golden woman sittin under five feet of water in a lagoon."

"If I got my weather a-rights, the Don Rollo made her harbor back on Rasday," the thin, emaciated man gave the Harpies a level stare. "And if I knows my charts rightly...which I do...then they'll be beating tack upon tack up the Mer right this flicker, clawin' their way back out to the Bay to grab up this treasure for their own. We got the weather on 'em...but we leave at first tide tomorrow morningtide, or we might as well not leave at all. Now I don't talk to you about payment, boyos...I don't have the coin, and I got no promises. I'm talking about a Company, w'equal shares all around fer profits gained. We can draw up articles, if'n you like...so long as we work fast."