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Post by The Drunk Bard on Mar 22, 2017 20:47:20 GMT
"That I can help with," Peter promised. He hands her another drink and takes a seat nearby while Molly sees to some other guests. A musician begins playing an old tune on his strings, one of loss and revenge. "Sauveterre isn't going to die quietly," he noted. "Nor is one ship going to threaten the French navy. He could come back on a seventy-four gunner. It'd turn anything outside Lady Marie's battleship to matchsticks." He studied her a moment. "You'd need allies." "I'm aware of that. I've always worked alone, before, but Sauveterre is the kind of man who makes enemies. But if I cannot defeat him by strength, I'll do it by guile. Even if it takes me ten more years to do it." She clung to the tankard as if it were a lifeline. She had wept for her father, years ago, but instead her sorrow had turned to raging hatred for his killer. She fed her hatred any time she thought of the French captain. Peter was silent and another Irishman chimed in. "Well, if we ain't pissed off the Spanish of late, I heard Cap'n Sauveterre interrupted some of their convoys these three months past. One of their shots hit a powder keg and blew the ship and its crew and silver to kingdom come."
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Post by Audrey Rose on Mar 22, 2017 21:16:35 GMT
After a short while, Captain Rose walked in, flanked by several of her more trusted crew members, some from here in Roatan, some slaves from Nassau that had joined her.
She walked in and headed straight to the table at which her first mate and quartermaster sat, as if she had known they were sitting there before she even entered,giving each a nod as she sat. With each step she moved with a purposeful but easy grace, as if every step was calculated yet effortless.
She was dressed fairly richly, but not in her finest, the tavern not warranting such and in all honestly, while she was confident, she was not foolhardy to draw too much attention or ire from the other patrons. She wore a deep burgundy coat, with black trousers and a shirt, her blond hair worn loose.
She had left orders to be ready to sail at a moments notice, in case they needed to make a quick get away.
She was well aware of the bounty that had been On her and other members of her crew, and was keen to show how little it concerned her.
"We should not stay long," whether she meant the tavern or the port, it was unclear.
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Post by Frances Harte on Mar 22, 2017 21:28:28 GMT
"Captain," greeted Frances with a slight smile, sliding over one of the untouched tin tankards. She figured Luiz would want to share his pivotal findings himself, and glanced at him as she sipped her ale.
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Post by Brighid Murphy on Mar 22, 2017 22:54:17 GMT
Peter was silent and another Irishman chimed in. "Well, if we ain't pissed off the Spanish of late, I heard Cap'n Sauveterre interrupted some of their convoys these three months past. One of their shots hit a powder keg and blew the ship and its crew and silver to kingdom come." "Bastard!" She sighed. "How did that man get so powerful? Ugh!" She eyed up the man who had spoken. "Who do you sail with?"
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Post by The Drunk Bard on Mar 22, 2017 22:59:57 GMT
Peter was silent and another Irishman chimed in. "Well, if we ain't pissed off the Spanish of late, I heard Cap'n Sauveterre interrupted some of their convoys these three months past. One of their shots hit a powder keg and blew the ship and its crew and silver to kingdom come." "Bastard!" She sighed. "How did that man get so powerful? Ugh!" She eyed up the man who had spoken. "Who do you sail with?" "Miguel Rivas," he said. "Of La Tempestad." He tipped a hat. "Jonny the Giant," he greeted himself as. "A pleasure, cap'n. Everyone's 'eard o'Capn Murphy." He nodded. "And Sauveterre's uncle is the Duke of Marseilles. He's got the connections to go far, given time."
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Post by Luiz Carvalho da Silva on Mar 22, 2017 23:28:55 GMT
"Even insured, rich men have the luxury to afford sending a message," Luiz replied, his hand wrapping around his pistol instinctively at the sound of arguing in the tavern proper. He relaxed when Alfonse popped his head in to explain. "Well, that will buy us a few hours, at least until the festivities start in earnest and the drinks are flowing. No one ever let a Italian's warning get between them and gold when deep in their cups. We should depart before that happens."
His attention was diverted again as their captain joined them in the backroom, wondering idly how many men in the tavern saw a walking sack of gold in place of the woman.
"An astute observation, captain," he deadpanned, taking a long drink. "Three of us in one room is tempting fate." With two women aboard their ship, it was not as if he had much luck to spare anymore. "Seems we earned the ire of someone in St. Augustine. We might want to steer clear of the Spanish Main for a spell, stick to British and French shipping lanes."
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Post by Brighid Murphy on Mar 23, 2017 18:56:58 GMT
"Miguel Rivas," he said. "Of La Tempestad." He tipped a hat. "Jonny the Giant," he greeted himself as. "A pleasure, cap'n. Everyone's 'eard o'Capn Murphy." He nodded. "And Sauveterre's uncle is the Duke of Marseilles. He's got the connections to go far, given time." "Damn him. I'll see that he doesn't rise higher. Do you know much about this Duke, Johnny? I've never heard o' him." Her eyes were bright with curiosity. She needed to learn all she could about the man she hated.
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Post by The Drunk Bard on Mar 23, 2017 19:38:45 GMT
"Well...he runs Marseilles, which makes him the de facto admiral of the entire French fleet." Jonny shook his head. "Don't know much more of him. I don't concern myself with Europe much anymore."
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Post by Audrey Rose on Mar 23, 2017 20:44:56 GMT
"Even insured, rich men have the luxury to afford sending a message," Luiz replied, his hand wrapping around his pistol instinctively at the sound of arguing in the tavern proper. He relaxed when Alfonse popped his head in to explain. "Well, that will buy us a few hours, at least until the festivities start in earnest and the drinks are flowing. No one ever let a Italian's warning get between them and gold when deep in their cups. We should depart before that happens." His attention was diverted again as their captain joined them in the backroom, wondering idly how many men in the tavern saw a walking sack of gold in place of the woman. "An astute observation, captain," he deadpanned, taking a long drink. "Three of us in one room is tempting fate." With two women aboard their ship, it was not as if he had much luck to spare anymore. "Seems we earned the ire of someone in St. Augustine. We might want to steer clear of the Spanish Main for a spell, stick to British and French shipping lanes." She was not hugely fond of his sarcastic tone. They were the ones sitting in here drinking when they should be leaving. "Wherever we go, we should go soon, while everyone else is here, the shipping lanes are waiting for us." she motioned and someone produced a map. she put it on the table, not worried about moving Luiz's drink and started to watch it, looking for a good direction to head from here that would have some lucrative prizes. Navigation 80
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Post by The Drunk Bard on Mar 23, 2017 21:02:01 GMT
The two obvious routes lead from Lake Maracaibo in Venezuela, about a ten day sail to the south. Spanish gold flows from it like ants from a disturbed hill, but their heaviest ships tend to protect the convoys. To the north, less ostentatious treasure comes in the form of spices and exotic foods and rum and wood flow from Jamaica and Cuba. The ships are worth much less on average but the guards are correspondingly less aggressive. Going east and north are the tobacco and slave ships of England, and to the southeast are the silver convoys of Portugal.
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Post by Brighid Murphy on Mar 23, 2017 22:14:52 GMT
"Well...he runs Marseilles, which makes him the de facto admiral of the entire French fleet." Jonny shook his head. "Don't know much more of him. I don't concern myself with Europe much anymore." "No worries, I'll find out more." She finished her drink. "Thanks for your help, though. The more I learn, the better my chances of victory."
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Post by Luiz Carvalho da Silva on Mar 23, 2017 22:21:35 GMT
She was not hugely fond of his sarcastic tone. They were the ones sitting in here drinking when they should be leaving. "Wherever we go, we should go soon, while everyone else is here, the shipping lanes are waiting for us." she motioned and someone produced a map. she put it on the table, not worried about moving Luiz's drink and started to watch it, looking for a good direction to head from here that would have some lucrative prizes. And he was not hugely fond of such advice from a captain as green as she. "Gaspar bought us some time, at least enough to finish my drink," he remarked, picking it up and downing the rest as Audrey laid out the map. "Now I'm ready. What's our heading, captain?"
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Post by The Drunk Bard on Mar 23, 2017 22:34:59 GMT
"Well...he runs Marseilles, which makes him the de facto admiral of the entire French fleet." Jonny shook his head. "Don't know much more of him. I don't concern myself with Europe much anymore." "No worries, I'll find out more." She finished her drink. "Thanks for your help, though. The more I learn, the better my chances of victory." "Well, I wish you fortune," Jonny offered. "But be patient. Perhaps your time will come sooner than you think." The Irish drink hard at the thought. Peter smiles at Brighid as he goes to serve the other customers.
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Post by Brighid Murphy on Mar 24, 2017 18:24:22 GMT
"Well, I wish you fortune," Jonny offered. "But be patient. Perhaps your time will come sooner than you think." The Irish drink hard at the thought. Peter smiles at Brighid as he goes to serve the other customers. "Let's hope so," Brighid murmured, after giving Peter a friendly smile in return. "Perhaps I will pay a visit to your captain, Johnny. And there will be others who might have a vested interest in seeing Sauveterre fall."
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Post by Audrey Rose on Mar 24, 2017 18:45:54 GMT
Audrey pointed to the south on the map round to Venezuela, without much hesitation. "Do we have the supplies loaded for travelling there" she asked the quartermaster, since that was his responsibility. It was time to make their name more notorious, what better way than to pick a fight with spain.
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