OOC:
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Sorry for the delay! The holidays took my time, and then my master file for your adventure wouldn't open so I had to troubleshoot that, but everything's good on my end now. [MENTION=8058]Queenie[/MENTION] [MENTION=2820]Fenris[/MENTION] [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION] [MENTION=6787234]peterka99[/MENTION] [MENTION=20005]Matthan[/MENTION] [MENTION=48394]pathfinderq1[/MENTION]
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[sblock=To Blackbeard's Manor]
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The trail to Blackbeard's Manor lies deep in the back of Nassau, pushed back in the valley amidst overgrown jungle accessible by a simple wood plank trail leading over an intermittent stream. Overlooking a private little cove, barely visible amidst the thick foliage, it is a well hidden sanctuary. A steady stream of pirates carrying sacks of grain and small barrels of rums up to the estate make the ascent, their wise-cracks and boisterous crude tales become diminished in volume the closer they get to Blackbeard's home. As you approach, you notice the drapes on the second floor pulled back just enough to catch the pale veiled face of a woman watching you.
Setting down a crate of empty bottles, one of the pirates, a churlish man with a thick goatee and a peg leg that clearly bothers him, gruffly refuses help from one of the younger stronger pirates. When he catches sight of your party, he is leaned over a crate wheezing to catch his breath,
"Come to pay your respects to old Blackbeard, eh? He don't take kindly to pernicious liars, debtors, or monarchists, so ye've been warned. The name's Grimes. Elias Grimes. I'm purveyor of all you see before you. Blackbeard's Quartermaster and Provisioner. So you think yer worthy of a meeting with th' Captain of the Nine Hells, eh? Well, first you'll need t—"
A booming voice came from inside the house, loud enough to be a bear rather than a man,
"Send them up, Grimes!"
His attempt at inflating his own purpose, or perhaps securing a bit of graft, diminished, the old salt Grimes mutters testily to himself, gesturing to the front door. Even before you reach the handle, the door opens vigorously, clattering on its hinges. There, filling up the doorway of the shaded manor, is
Blackbeard himself.
"I've been expecting you, Katerina del Corazón." His brooding eyes survey your party, motioning you to come inside. The receiving room seems to have become a place for launching ventures and playing cards. Numerous pistols and maritime trophies adorn the walls.
"Two Frenchmen," he looks to Etienne and Blaise,
"under the banner of a Spanish woman. Why, add a proper Englishman and you'd be halfway to an assassination squad to take my head back to Merry Old wherever the f*ck. The dwarf and Creole I can trust at least," he says in a grave dead pan, only a hint of mirth twinkling in his eyes as he looks to Old Zef and Nia Steeleyes.
"And I've known too many Irishmen." Only with his last jib aimed at Flynn does his hardened demeanor break in the slightest.
"So..." he levels his gaze at Katerina. Several chairs and a sofa surround a wooden table made from the stump of some exotic hardwood with gorgeous amber rings. A set of dice poker fashioned of silver and bone rests on the table.
"You want my ship, The Coral Curse?"