CanadienneBacon
Explorer
Kid [roll0]
D&D 5E Spell & Crossbones
Quickleaf
Legend
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"Thanks for the warning," says Barrington. "I'll watch my step." He's struck by the concern Kid shows, and by the legerdemain he demonstrates with the coin.
"I have been many things over the years," Barrington answers. "But you're right, they won't be used in service of any government. There are a few ships hunting treasure right now, and I intend to be on the one that's best provided. It's starting to look like that means bringing my own guns."
Seeing Kid rise, Barrington turns and begins to leave the empty hull, a carcass of a once majestic vessel. As he steps into the sun, he is momentarily dazzled, but his eyes adjust as his feet sink into the moist sand.
"We'll have to see as we go on. But if it all works out, you earn at least your supper, and another bottle if you wish it." He pauses. "But perhaps you were looking for something more. Something ongoing? That too could be discussed."
They stride across the sand, and Barrington notices that the boy who led him there has left.
"So tell me where we're going..."
CanadienneBacon
Explorer
[sblock=99 Bottles of Beer Debt]
[section]
Kid nodded as Barrington answered his questions. He kicked at the odd stray shell or palm frond littering the beach after the storm, and never looked directly at the adult at his side. When Barrington responded to Kid's query of whether he was a Navy man by saying that he had been "many things over the years," Kid noted to omission but made no comment. Everyone had their secrets.
Barrington's question whether Kid was looking for something more caught the boy off guard. He frowned. The "more" usually entailed sexual favors, but Barrington had already turned him down. Maybe he jess don' like floggin' it, public-like? Here, the youth stole a glance at Barrington, hoping for cues. There were none. Kid fell into confusion and uncertainty. After three or four beats, he tentatively offered, "Hot meal, place to sleep. No rats. If you're offerin', cap'n." Kid scoffed. He knew food and lodging were unattainable things. Adults would screw you every time. He chipped it in more to see Barrington's reaction.
"We're goin' where ye asked, ter see Komodo Roy. Word is he has what you want. An' I'm thinking it's them four missin' cannons wot came from the Coral Curse. Though, word also sez Blackbeard still has a stake in the Curse, so I'm thinkin' it don' make no sense ter pay fer cannons wot come off the Curse when we want 'em put righ' back on. Savvy?" Kid bent over and picked up a conch shell. He admired the blush of the shell's coiled interior, then cast the thing into the sea. "Same color as a Young Mag's privies." Kid smirked. "Roy's a friend. I get us in. You do the yappin.' We leave together, same's we arrive." The boy let the latter linger between the pair, a question for Barrington to answer.
"Look lively, cap'n. There's Roy's now."[/section]
Oh, snap! That should provide some roleplaying fun![/sblock]
[section]
Kid nodded as Barrington answered his questions. He kicked at the odd stray shell or palm frond littering the beach after the storm, and never looked directly at the adult at his side. When Barrington responded to Kid's query of whether he was a Navy man by saying that he had been "many things over the years," Kid noted to omission but made no comment. Everyone had their secrets. Barrington's question whether Kid was looking for something more caught the boy off guard. He frowned. The "more" usually entailed sexual favors, but Barrington had already turned him down. Maybe he jess don' like floggin' it, public-like? Here, the youth stole a glance at Barrington, hoping for cues. There were none. Kid fell into confusion and uncertainty. After three or four beats, he tentatively offered, "Hot meal, place to sleep. No rats. If you're offerin', cap'n." Kid scoffed. He knew food and lodging were unattainable things. Adults would screw you every time. He chipped it in more to see Barrington's reaction.
"We're goin' where ye asked, ter see Komodo Roy. Word is he has what you want. An' I'm thinking it's them four missin' cannons wot came from the Coral Curse. Though, word also sez Blackbeard still has a stake in the Curse, so I'm thinkin' it don' make no sense ter pay fer cannons wot come off the Curse when we want 'em put righ' back on. Savvy?" Kid bent over and picked up a conch shell. He admired the blush of the shell's coiled interior, then cast the thing into the sea. "Same color as a Young Mag's privies." Kid smirked. "Roy's a friend. I get us in. You do the yappin.' We leave together, same's we arrive." The boy let the latter linger between the pair, a question for Barrington to answer.
"Look lively, cap'n. There's Roy's now."[/section]
Quickleaf
Legend
Smuggler's Cove
Soft wet sand gives way to a palm-covered trail winding past ramshackle tents, farmhouses, and dens of ill repute. A toothless sun-scorched fisherman pulling mussels off the sea rocks with a blunt knife grins and waves good morning. It’s a thirty minute walk to Smuggler’s Cove, enough time for Barrington and Kid to get a feel for one another; to all outward appearances they would seem diametric opposites, but maybe they had more in common than it would seem. Nassau made strange fellows of the unlikeliest of characters.
Smuggler’s Cove is aptly named. A warehouse built into the rocks with a high spiked wooden gate that almost resembled a dark ages palisade offering the single point of land access to the cove. Bits of detritus from last night’s storm lie scattered about, no one having bothered to clean up. A salty sea dog in a wide leather hat slumbers up top at his lookout perch above the gate, a musket draped over his shoulder. Snorting as his sleep is interrupted by a slap on the head, the man looks about bewildered until his eyes focus on Roy standing over him.
‘Komodo’ Roy is an Englishman with hints of Arawak features, dressed in practical cottons and leathers. A trio of pistols and a cutlass hang off his low-clinging belt. There is a hard edge to his eyes as he surveys the approaching Kid and Barrington. “Come to settle up, 'ave you, Kid? I’m impressed. Figured you’d ‘ave stowed away on some ship by now.” Leveling a suspicious stare at Barrington, Roy rests his right hand on the handle of a pistol, “Don’t know him.”
Soft wet sand gives way to a palm-covered trail winding past ramshackle tents, farmhouses, and dens of ill repute. A toothless sun-scorched fisherman pulling mussels off the sea rocks with a blunt knife grins and waves good morning. It’s a thirty minute walk to Smuggler’s Cove, enough time for Barrington and Kid to get a feel for one another; to all outward appearances they would seem diametric opposites, but maybe they had more in common than it would seem. Nassau made strange fellows of the unlikeliest of characters.
Smuggler’s Cove is aptly named. A warehouse built into the rocks with a high spiked wooden gate that almost resembled a dark ages palisade offering the single point of land access to the cove. Bits of detritus from last night’s storm lie scattered about, no one having bothered to clean up. A salty sea dog in a wide leather hat slumbers up top at his lookout perch above the gate, a musket draped over his shoulder. Snorting as his sleep is interrupted by a slap on the head, the man looks about bewildered until his eyes focus on Roy standing over him.
‘Komodo’ Roy is an Englishman with hints of Arawak features, dressed in practical cottons and leathers. A trio of pistols and a cutlass hang off his low-clinging belt. There is a hard edge to his eyes as he surveys the approaching Kid and Barrington. “Come to settle up, 'ave you, Kid? I’m impressed. Figured you’d ‘ave stowed away on some ship by now.” Leveling a suspicious stare at Barrington, Roy rests his right hand on the handle of a pistol, “Don’t know him.”
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Etienne relaxes quite a lot and returns to a merchant mood: "The magic is less in fur than in the fair one who wears it."
And more seriously: "I"m afraid my purse is too flat to buy such wares now. Magic items cost a lot. I have imported some for senor Zef. I heard he needs it to remove a curse."
Turning to Du Tourbillon: " I"m flattered you know me, Monsieur. I long to do business with you and your associates in a near future. I'm surprised you know me as a storyteller. I would rather say a chronicler. I'm traveling a lot since the end of King William's War to gather good stories and scoops. I specialize in supernatural events and treasure hunting."
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CanadienneBacon
Explorer
Barrington and Kid
[section]Kid jerks this thumb at Barrington. "He's wit me. A friend. Come ter barter." The boy motioned for Barrington to stay put. He approaches Roy on his own, and holds out a palm bearing five gold pieces for Roy to take. "'ere's five gold fer me ninety nine barrels, 'an more where that come from, 'specially if'n ye treat wit cap'n, 'ere." Kid shifts to the side a step, blatantly making room for Barrington to join the pair. "You got somewheres we could yibber yabber private-like?"[/section]
[section]
Kid jerks this thumb at Barrington. "He's wit me. A friend. Come ter barter." The boy motioned for Barrington to stay put. He approaches Roy on his own, and holds out a palm bearing five gold pieces for Roy to take. "'ere's five gold fer me ninety nine barrels, 'an more where that come from, 'specially if'n ye treat wit cap'n, 'ere." Kid shifts to the side a step, blatantly making room for Barrington to join the pair. "You got somewheres we could yibber yabber private-like?"[/section]
"We shall see what can be done," promises Barrington, hoping to surprise. The two walk across the sand and then along the path. When the trail narrows, it is usually Kid who takes the lead, but not always, and the apparent give-and-take seems honest enough, given all the poor boy seems to have endured. Barrington appreciates the Kid's forthrightness, but he does to know whether it comes from naive sincerity or world-weary exhaustion, in one too young for such weariness.
""That's a good point. We'll see what we do with the cannons he has, but my hope is to clean him out, so that there's none left for any rival ships. That's the measure by which I would reckon success this day."
Barrington stops speaking, when they approach the grotto. They pass the barricade, and there before them is Komodo Roy.
Barrington makes an elaborate bow at the waist, a flourish. "James Barrington, sir," he says as introduction. "As our mutual friend here has indicated, I am in search of cannon..." (he looks around to see if any are visible. "which I am told you might be able to provide."
Quickleaf
Legend
Smuggler's Cove
"A cannon, you says?" Roy squints his eyes, looking down at them from the top of the wooden palisade. There's something about this James Barrington that makes him uncomfortable, and he certainly doesn't trust Kid further than he can shoot a pistol, but Roy was first and foremost a businessman like any smuggler worth his salt. "Alright then, open up the gate for them. No sudden moves, James Barrington."
Slowly the wooden gate opens, revealing a passage some ten-feet wide. Komodo Roy clambers down a pair of steps on the other side to greet them. There's a hint of English accent to his voice though muddled by exposure to the many languages of the Caribbean. Up close, Barrington can see that the lower right side of his lip was mangled as if bitten by an animal, the old scars a a garish purple. Taking the 5 coins from Kid, Roy levels him with a look that told him he hadn't forgotten the rest of the debt. "Ten bottles of beer," he says, tucking the coin into his belt pouch and latching it securely.
Roy sucks his teeth, his mouth filled with tobacco chew, as he appraises Barrington. "Come on, I'll show you what cannons we've salvaged. Who's crew is this for, James Barrington?"
Smuggler's Cove is filled with sailors moving crates, taking inventories, or laying about sleeping or smoking pipes. Three very large rowboats are being piled and strapped down with bundles and chests. Barrels of salt pork, vinegar, limes, and other goods line the walls. About a dozen armed men are either working along with the rest or standing watch on a rickety wooden ramp that runs the perimeter of the warehouse. Smuggler's Cove is a cross between a cave, a warehouse, and a secret port. Waves echo thru the chamber as they break against the stone pier. An enormous man - no, a tattooed ogre - hauls a chain thru the water, pulling down a chain net that covers the cavern's ocean entrance. It looks like they're making ready to ship out.
Komodo Roy leads Kid and Barrington across a walkway overlooking some kind of arena strewn with bones, and in the shadows they can make out two enormous lizards sleeping with massive iron collars about their necks. Whistling, Roy tosses a sack of fish down to the lizards, "Hoi! You sleepy louts, get your breakfast. Right this way." Soon enough he brings them to a large locked wooden door which he opens with a key strung about his neck, revealing a room filled with weapons and munitions, notably four demi-culverins (9 pounders by the looks of them) that show slight signs of a pitting, and a swivel gun in tip-top shape. Gunpowder barrels and cannonballs are stacked in one corner of the room.
"A cannon, you says?" Roy squints his eyes, looking down at them from the top of the wooden palisade. There's something about this James Barrington that makes him uncomfortable, and he certainly doesn't trust Kid further than he can shoot a pistol, but Roy was first and foremost a businessman like any smuggler worth his salt. "Alright then, open up the gate for them. No sudden moves, James Barrington."
Slowly the wooden gate opens, revealing a passage some ten-feet wide. Komodo Roy clambers down a pair of steps on the other side to greet them. There's a hint of English accent to his voice though muddled by exposure to the many languages of the Caribbean. Up close, Barrington can see that the lower right side of his lip was mangled as if bitten by an animal, the old scars a a garish purple. Taking the 5 coins from Kid, Roy levels him with a look that told him he hadn't forgotten the rest of the debt. "Ten bottles of beer," he says, tucking the coin into his belt pouch and latching it securely.
Roy sucks his teeth, his mouth filled with tobacco chew, as he appraises Barrington. "Come on, I'll show you what cannons we've salvaged. Who's crew is this for, James Barrington?"
Smuggler's Cove is filled with sailors moving crates, taking inventories, or laying about sleeping or smoking pipes. Three very large rowboats are being piled and strapped down with bundles and chests. Barrels of salt pork, vinegar, limes, and other goods line the walls. About a dozen armed men are either working along with the rest or standing watch on a rickety wooden ramp that runs the perimeter of the warehouse. Smuggler's Cove is a cross between a cave, a warehouse, and a secret port. Waves echo thru the chamber as they break against the stone pier. An enormous man - no, a tattooed ogre - hauls a chain thru the water, pulling down a chain net that covers the cavern's ocean entrance. It looks like they're making ready to ship out.
Komodo Roy leads Kid and Barrington across a walkway overlooking some kind of arena strewn with bones, and in the shadows they can make out two enormous lizards sleeping with massive iron collars about their necks. Whistling, Roy tosses a sack of fish down to the lizards, "Hoi! You sleepy louts, get your breakfast. Right this way." Soon enough he brings them to a large locked wooden door which he opens with a key strung about his neck, revealing a room filled with weapons and munitions, notably four demi-culverins (9 pounders by the looks of them) that show slight signs of a pitting, and a swivel gun in tip-top shape. Gunpowder barrels and cannonballs are stacked in one corner of the room.
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CanadienneBacon
Explorer
[section] Ever the businessman, Kid grins at Roy's 'dragons,' and follows last in line after Roy and Barrington. "Wot say we make it twenty bot'les o' beer fer bringin' you a special customer?"
Kid's fingers twitch when he spies the key hanging on a cord around Roy's neck. The boy resists the urge to swipe the key by tilting his head to the right and cracking his neck. He shakes out his right hand, too. It wouldn't do, after all, to thieve the key while there was business to be done. All was forgotten, however, the moment Roy opens the door and Kid spies the cannons. Even in the dim light of the warehouse, the pitted metal of the four cannons gleams with fury foretold. Kid stifles the urge to whistle in admiration at the nine-pound demi-culverins. [/section]
Ever the businessman, Kid grins at Roy's 'dragons,' and follows last in line after Roy and Barrington. "Wot say we make it twenty bot'les o' beer fer bringin' you a special customer?" Kid's fingers twitch when he spies the key hanging on a cord around Roy's neck. The boy resists the urge to swipe the key by tilting his head to the right and cracking his neck. He shakes out his right hand, too. It wouldn't do, after all, to thieve the key while there was business to be done. All was forgotten, however, the moment Roy opens the door and Kid spies the cannons. Even in the dim light of the warehouse, the pitted metal of the four cannons gleams with fury foretold. Kid stifles the urge to whistle in admiration at the nine-pound demi-culverins. [/section]
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