The Green Dragon

[King Alboin]

<.< >.> O.O

*points at parrot*

[Jupitor]

arrrrrrrrrrrrr that blasted parrot

[King Alboin]

arrr aye, he's a minstrel in his spare time ...



They be strange

[Rembrandten]

I saw the wenches, and immediately began imagining all the imperfections they were veiling. In some the desperate need to be educated, in others, a marked lack of attracting figure.
I tried to see their skin, for what it was other than radiant, I tried to gauge their age, was it one hundred or one thousand? Where had they been to, where were they going.
I was still too groggy from being pulled out of the sea to enjoy a drink, and somehow my nasty hammer seemed inadequate, in this environment I would need a chain to fight with as well.
Something that clasped the wrists. So I went looking for some chains, not a markedly easy task in this heavenly place, but the scene was set, and, thought I in a rearrangement of the old proverb
"And God said, let there be bondage, and there was, and it was good."

[Boroeast]

Shut up' *Shots at the parrot*
*Falls down to the floor drunk*

[King Alboin]

*doctors up the parrot* adds a peg leg, an eye patch, spoon feeds him some good ole rum, I snagged of Morgan LF, fashions up a iddy biddy birdy hammock over the bar, says words.

"And God said, let there be bondage, and there was, and it was good."

three pieces of eight, spanish silver, is the price of a man, a lass could fetch three times as much, if she be prudent, her weight in gold, if she has influential relatives. However bondage? Pirates above all else, even pirate wenches, love their freedom. Lest ye art carrying more than a blunderbuss, I would suspect one of your edumication should see the tail of the dragon that haunts these quarters.
Take my first officer, for instance. She was indentured at the age of eight, to a most vile minister of the cloth. I found her, in a cell, not much like the one's we have down there. Of course I was in the next cell, over. My crime was but a mere misunderstanding, whilst her crime was that of lopping off the head of her "guardian from sin". I had been using the bile from the bottom of me gutt to rust the lower hinge of me cell, for quite some time, when they threw her into the cell next to me. They chained her to the stones, nothing but straw to call a bunk, weavel laced hard tack for a hardy meal mixed with a bit of dog meat gravy, did they feed her, rancid water to wash it down. She has never told me what her guadian did to her, and I shant ask, yet be it known, he deserved his fate -- I would of lopped off a different part of his anatomy, by what I gather her tears told me.

I completed my task, jarring the cell door hinge ajar, and took out the blue coat turn screw as he waddled down the ladder well. Took his keys, release my neighbor, and we managed to escape before the garrison awoke for their morning colors. We found an old Ketch in the harbor, stole her away, made good our escape, and for three long weeks, we sailed the briney depths. I taught her the ropes of sailing, mind you, on this her maiden voyage. Litterally I spent hours instructing her the eight knots every sailor should know, standing and running rigging. How to sail by the stars, judge noon on an octant, and other most worthy skills that could take her as far as she needed to git to. She learned how to caulk beams, preen the hull, and mend sails.

We alighted on the isle of Tortuga, and through a most trustworthy loyal aquaintence of mine, traded half the ship's fare for some shot, powder, arms and rum. Indigo and cotton, did we trade. The buccaneer we traded with, took a fancy to my first mate. She was not impressed, and told him so. He would not listen, so she cleared his ears out with a lead ball from a brand new pistole'. Deaf dead he be now. For the only sounds he hears are the accusations his deamons scream in his hellish abode.

Fearing his brethren, we stowed our newly gotten provisions as fast as our callused mitts could move, and set sail as far as our leakey Ketch could take us. We briefly made port at Crab Island, replenished our water barrels, and headed sou by south east. We stayed clear of the trade routes, and rationed our meals, to a might bit meager setting. Ye may be thinking, "oh such an impossiblity for two hands to sail a small vessel in the open seas." Aye, ye may think ye art right to think along those lines. Freedom, guided us, my friend. Not wanting to be in bondage or held prisoner never more, backed our brace.

We divided our watch in hours of four. She at the wheel, whilst I plied the rigging. Then I at the wheel, whilst she caulked the leaks. On the dog watch we ate separate, then I would take my ease up the crows nest, whilst she slept standing up at the wheel. We struck our course and remained far aloft of the green waters, no sight did we gander upon a coast, till we did make the coast of the Land of Fire, Teirra de Fuego.

I hatched a plan, and devised a plot, in me pea-picken skull. We then an there, agreed to go on the account, to take a larger vessel, and free her hands held in the brig or clasped in iron. To force them to go on account, or be awarded their last breath. The loyal crew, be danged as they be hanged on our yard arms.

shall I continue?

[Boroeast]

Damn! Lol, yes,continue :P

Boro enjoys reading it.

[King Alboin]

*stuffs a pipe, strikes a match, swallers a tankard of ale whole, dreggs ant'all.*

*cough, sneezes, spits an scratches me beard. Lights me pipe*

My First Mate, the one who slapped me, ye see, speaks ne're a word, which hath been tha'way abaft our escape. She speaks with her eyes, fists, powder an ball. Takes pride in her accuracy, she does. Me thinks she loves augerin holes, I does. So, I learnt her the gentle hobby of cannonade fire. That'a'way she can take her pleasure augerin big holes in big ships. Our little Ketch t'were only an eight gunner, six twelve pounders, one eight pounder and one thirty two pounder. We practiced and practiced with all manner of shot. We gave Oceanus hell that week, blowing holes through the swells. She learnt her timing on the ship's rolls, learnt her aim by the feel of the ship's pitch. She got good, an I knew I was done schoolin, when I'd laid eyes on somthin I'd ne'er seen till -- she smile'd. She done got her pride back, I suspect. Me thinks she found her purpose in this cruel life. I dunno, but she's been hell to live with ever since. Not in a bad way, mind you, but her love of blowing things up has put a dent in our stores of powder. Do you know how long it takes to sift ye powder, to keep it from the clump? Huh? Correct, a long boring dangerous time, and no sooner do I or my Constable gits the job done and she takes the cask, makes several charges, and blows half of em gone before four bells a'noon.

*shakes me head, fills me tankard, swills her down, cough, spits, an drags a hit from me pipe*

Whar was I? hmm?

Oh, yeah, yeah, way down sou seventy leagues from the Horn. Me plan was so complex it was simple. His friggin Magisties ships are ordered to protect dem fat whalin vessels over in the Mare de Pacifica. A task given to most experience Captains of His friggin Royal Fleet, are mostly chosen for this task. *scratches beard, not knowing if I want to spill certain beans .. decides to kick the pail over* Every lucky Sam's now an then, comes along a Captain who has more brass cannon shot, then chimes in his bell rack. He attempts the Horn, the Horn dont love'em nor his crew no more, and the Horn spits him out, like a barrister spits out his poor wife's cookin. His ship is a'battered an a'torn, his riggin is a'fray, his tackle is a'jumble, his Midshipmen are a'cryin, his crew is a'rollin cannon balls, those that are left, that is, and those that still have their fingers, bein that their fingers are still a'frozen to the Mizzen's Yard Stays, his supper be a'lyin on d'deck, his brandy a'spillin on his charts, and his bowels a'be incontinent, he be havin to sat a'stride his cover'd jake hole, till his innards be empty.

"Aaaaand that is when we will take the Cap'n an crew, albiet with their pants down, my first mate," I says to her.

Another first a'happen'd. She roared with laughter. first time I had actually heard her voice. I think me ears touched from the smile I did give in reciprocity.

She took off ina giddy dance, inspecting every piece of cannon on the ship. She paid special attention to the thirty two pounder. I think she adopted it, to tell ye the truth of the matter. She seemed to be pettin it, more as much as inspect it. Me thinks she named it, but I can not tell thee his nom d' plume. Sometimes I still catch her sleeping on the confounded artillery piece. Women'folk! Has it in her cabin, an you will not believe what I went through to install it there. Makes a dandy aft gun, though. would take a brave idiot to try to sneak up a'stern of our rudder, mind you.

So, she set off to ready our cannons, and I set to the task of readying our arms, pistoles, block an tackle. Within half a fortnight, we'd be ready to spring our trap.

*fills me tankard, puffs on me pipe, scratches, belches, coughs an spits*

Shall I continue?

[Morgan le Fay]

-Runs in and quickly gags KA-

Yes! Morgan saves the day, again.

[Rembrandten]

Accuracy is, in every case, advantageous to beauty.