Rhy'Din Port of Call

[JD Black]

[shadow=red,left,300] [glow=blue,2,300]Medieval Tavern [/glow] [/shadow]

[shadow=black,left,300] SSDD[/shadow]

Snorted scoff upon hearing a nearby conversation. A snapping of fingers to gain the servering wench's attention. "Wench, bring me a pint o'rum, 'n be quick 'bout it." Demanded in a near growl of a tone. It was after this those words were spoken, her attention turned to fix upon the two involved in the conversation she heard. Now this was hiliarious, at any moment the laughter would begin to sound.


Trouble came in pairs when the tavern door swung open. Right on in came the first, his hair the color of pitch , ragged and long, hung partially over the view of shrewd black eyes. He lead the way to the bar and pushed his way in. "Two pints of grog." Dark eyes danced about the seedy tavern. "Where be the wenches from the brothels?" Eyes darting about as he waited for his partner to catch up.

Catch up he did, with little enough of a pause in stride to bring him around the last obstacle in the form of a staggering body. "Ye scared 'em white mate. Best tae just drink up, find another to hold yer eye." Folding back a cuff of sleeve while settling for a quick glance about. Shorter of the two, and more slight yet not enough to be a push over.

Of course the old heffer would slosh the contents of the rum when she slammed in on the bar before JD. A low growl to follow. "Disease ridden wench." Snagging the tankard from Bess. When the man spoke up, a shot of a glance in his direction. "Iffen yae be t'inkin' yae gonna bae a gettin' laid buyin' me a drink, t'ink 'gain." A sneer which was soon covered by the rise of that tankard to take a long drink.

He gave Dion a scoff. "I was bein' friendly. I didn't holla for no sleepers, now did I?" When Bess set down the pair of mugs he passed one over to Dion. "Drink up," His eyes danced over to the female sea wench, interesting he thought. Black eyes slid back to Dion, sharing a smirk with him.

The smirk sat easily on his features, a brush of fingers against pursed lips a moment more while the mug was contemplated. Already enough had been drank this evening to drown a ship, yet once more another mug would be tipped back. "Aye, but I think yer idea o'nice ain't the same." Quick as the quip was, the dart of eyes rested on the searfarer and then a roll of eyes occured. Here they went again.

What? Panamon was broadly grinning down at Dion, being several inches taller than the other. "You sayin' I ain't got none of them," He snapped his fingers for the word. Lost on him as usual but not before his eyes were wandering over some female (dancer) who'd risked a glance in their direction. "I ain' spewing no poetry." He didn't know any to falter the females with.

It was always a patient wait when it came to the Captain, and wait Hamish did for him to finish as he would. Even though he trailed off right in the middle with a snap of fingers. "Yer bordering on looking at to many at once, Capt'n. Besides ... she looks a mite mean for you." He knew well where those eyes had strayed, yet when they moved on so did Dion's to rest on the Dancer as it were. "Don't know any poetry either." Muttered into the mug of grog as it was lifted again.

Since when were pirates required to hold manners? Capt'n?? Creole sounded off a snort. "Why he wastin' time to kiss her knuckles? Why not just go in fer the kill. Smack! Right on the kisser." Briefly catching the saucy look, even if it was feigned, from her, Panamon flashed a wink and smooched his lips right back at her. Not very romantic, and hardly smooth. "I think she hold a fancy to me. What you be thinkin' Dion?"

"It's what they like, I suppose." Even if the annoyance was faint, it was quickly there and completely gone by the time the mug was lowered with a smack back to the surface of the bar. "I think ye've inhaled to much of the cresote from the hull." He wasn't one to hold a foul mood, and eased back with a relaxed stance taken as arms were folded around his mug. "Why not just go over, snatch her up. Never stopped ye before." Wickedly he would grin then.


Creole suddenly frowned. "I know, but tha there last one out and slapped me, darn good too." He lifted the mug to his lips taking a deep swig. Ahh. "Think that one be jus as feisty?"

All for the love of the ruse, the slighter of the two turned and pinned the woman for a moment, watching her as she played her wiles. "I'd stake at least a hand slap. Couple of the others, they look ripe enough to knife ye." A quick flick of a nod toward the seafaring one before he turned back and hunkered over his mug.

His eyes trailed from the dancer then over to the sea wench before Panamon's look turned black and sour."I ain' interested in no bloody pirate parading about in men's grabs." Sounded like the dancer was a fiesty one after all. Stick it right to them!

Hang-dogged, his head hung with a curtain of brown cut to give him a bit of a visual obstacle. "A lass is a lass, no matter what she wears. Rig or a skirt, don't matter none." Lips smacked with a resounding clap, to imitate his thirst, which wasn't there he took another long draw from the mug before setting it quietly to the bar. "She's armed. Fiesty might be to kind a description." Lazily, he'd incline his head, take a peek and look right back at his mug.

Those dark blue eyes would turn in the direction of the two men speaking. A snort to be the response given. "Skalliwaggin landlubbers!" Not caring of the insult was over heard or not. Looking then at Brehnic. "Te'n ye'd bae pullin' back a stub t'match ye thingyless state." Yes, she said that bluntly and loud enough for many to hear. Pint on the rise and another swig of that rum taken.

He was looking there too, admiringly so. "Ya," He grinned. "All decorated up nice like. That thar be style, Dion. She got style." He snickered into his mug and tipped it back for a long swig, lowered the mug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, which stayed in place overhearing the sea wench's tart words. He laughed, outright laughed.

Laughter escaped him as he raised his tankard up to her. "Then I shall take heed of your ... subtle warning, milady."

What admiration could be had openly was, given the words and the sharpness of her tone. Faintly lips would twitch, hidden only once the mug was drawn up again. He had more ale in him than blood right now, and the world was starting to go hazy at the edges. Just the sort of state of mind that boded well. "Style? Ye think a well mended shirt has style." Snorted with a swipe of a sleeve against his mouth.

"Nay a warnin' mate, it be a promise." Stated as that pint would land with a thud upon the bar. "Wench, another." Snarled at the portly woman. "Get yae arse in motion, yae be keehaulin."

There would be no casual once over with this one. Her accent as well of style of speaking told him enough. "Bess, we be keeping this one's glass full, in hopes of calming her down." That smile remained. Oh, he knew she was quite serious, but Hell if this wasn't a mood lifter for himself at least.

The snort was loud, and vicious at the edges. "Good luck keepin' that one calm, rope rot." The twinge of lips turned to a sneer.

The mug hit the counter with a resounding thud as Creole took a step back and surveyed his own appearance. "I think I be makin' a fetching picture." Mostly dressedin black with a splash of red here and there." Dion's retort would have him stop in his track and glance over to the sea wench and her paid companion. He could assume. "He likes to live even more dangerously than meself." Back to business he flagged Bess down and ordered up two more mugs.

[JD Black]

[shadow=red,left,300] [glow=blue,2,300]Medieval Tavern [/glow] [/shadow]

[shadow=black,left,300] SSDD[/shadow]

Taking his time with this one, he leaned back on one forearm as if he were actually going to contemplate giving Pan's appearance the once over? The lift of one incredulous brow said silently he was dafter than a monkey up a burning tree. "Ye be makin' some sort o'picture. And what's life if ye don't live it dangerously at least once or twice?" No use badgering the man, he had to much confidence. For the both of them it would seem.

Snickering and a side long glance in Brehnic's direction. "Mate, I bae calm. Yae don' wanna see mae riled up." Toothy grin to show. Slowly her gaze would shift to rest upon Delphian and a brow rose. "'ow in t'hell do yae kin t'at" Eyes narrowed as first Delphian was being openly studied, then the one standing next to him in conversation, Panamon. Nothing friendly about the action either, since they were being given that assessing glance. Taking note of any weaponry that might be upon them, in sight, or just a hinted indication of such.

His posture shifted to face this newest arrival better, cutting down on the banter to look between the two conversing. Can learn much this way.

Panamon pulled his drink before him, leaning on the counter. His gaze went to the left, resting on Dion, then to the right, where the sea wench sat, and back to his drink. "Go on, Dion. Why dun ye go an give her a lil ol' kiss." He made that annoying smacking sound as he raised the mug of fresh ale to his lips and drank.

A shift of one elbow, just one into the kidney of his compatriot and then there was that smug lift of lips. "She likes me." Which was almost too laughable. She was shooting daggers at him, and no doubt she was armed to the teeth. "A little ol' kiss? Pan, ye wound me. A woman like that, deserves a whip's kiss as much as one from the lips." A quick lift of brows and a truly malicious laugh that was good natured enough at the edges to be deceptively harmless.

He knew enough to not get involved into something he knew nothing about, so he'd continue to play the silent drinker ... For now.

Seemed as though Delphian out right ignored her question, which only caused those invisable daggers to increase with the intensity of that stare. " Bloody landlubbin' barnical suckers." It wasn't as if she spoke softly, nor quietly. She really didn't give a rats ass who heard any comments she made. Newly delivered pint slammed upon the bar before her, flash of a glance in Bess' direction. "Yae product o'dribble down a w'ores leg." Grumbled towards the serving wench when she snagged it in hand.

Save for a request to have his tankards refilled, only his eyes moved from one to the other. It did dawn on him that he might want to move if things get ... Ugly.

Oof! He growled softly in pain, rubbing at the tender spot. "Elbows like a bonnie woman. And she likes me better." Darting that black gaze of his to the sea wench. He grinned down at her. No doubt all were well equipped with weapons of some sort. A malicious chuckle rumbled in his chest. "I think she be tryin' to insult us, Dion. What say you, mate?" Leaning over to nudge Dion.

There was pushing, and there was pushing and she was near borderline. "I be thinkin' there isn't enough lye at this dock to wash that mouth clean." Brows upraised, he gave a sweet, almost innocent look toward the seafarer and then slowly ... grinned. Innocent as you please, that face said. Not a word spoken in err, yet the devil could take those eyes from the way they glittered right back at her with equal daggers and heat. "I say, she's in need of a knee and a firm crack across her ass." Best be honest, given they were all honest ... church going folk. Pfft.

Narrowed gaze would turn to rest upon Dancer for a moment, the intense study from head to toe, then the one to whom she was speaking to. Back to Delphian her focus now turned and there remained for a moment. A sneer to be the only response he'd get. Let him try to even touch her, he wouldn't be getting laid for quite some time after. The pint gained her attention next, back to that drinking.

This was getting good ... Either the woman was crazy, or she had others with her, just not at the bar. Nodding to Bess for the refill, he continued to listen, that eyebrow still slightly arched.

Creole stood up instantly, placing his hand over his heart he gave the dancer a crest fallen look. "I be wounded. She wager against us mate. And on a sea wench to boot." Panamon threw down a mythical glove. "Ye go to far ya blithing scurvy wench. Ya can't insult me friend here and not pay fer it. Apologize." Creole snuffed and half turned from her, picking his drink back up and drink. "Careful mate. Ye might have to fight her now." He whispered to Dion. What were friends for?

Likely Dion wouldn't be getting laid anytime soon with the way Pan was yammering on. Like an old woman. "Cranky too." Muttering with a sweep of one hand against the mug, he watched with a passive expression that turned hateful at the edges with his constant nattering. "As long as there's water around, at least she'll get a little wet somehow. Ain't gonna be from ye that's for sure." Eyes rolled up into sockets, he waited a tick and then drank deeply, fortifying that courage perhaps?

Pint lowered and a glance over at Panamon. For a long moment there was no reaction what so ever. Then she couldn't help it, she just burst out laughing.

Another snuff, another drink. "Can have her laughing at you, mate. Ye better go kill her now and save face." Devilish grin tipped the corner's of his mouth.

Pan was just full of great ideas, and the venomous look that was slide his way from Dion said as much. Mug settled with a slap to the bar, he pushed off with a little shove and a deeply taken breath. At least he'd be a man who died at peace, if not on the water. d**n Panamon. It's always his fault that he got into this sort of trouble. Eh well, might as well die with a smile, which was plastered on like a first time sea pup might mop a deck. "Madame, yer causin' my friend there to have some heartburn. I can't have that, being as we're friends and all." Leaning forward, there was a brief, brief moment where the grin flashed but it was gone with a slow settle of posture. Relaxed, easy. Deceptively lazy. But to much space for a simple slice and dice, given he thought she might be inclined?

The comment made by Panamon only fueled her laughter all the more. The kind that had her wiping a tear from the corner of one eye. Delphian's movement didn't lessen the amusement she found in either man's words. "Yea 'n yea mate bae a seemin' t'bae 'avin' a bit o'a problem. Yea problem baein' in t'inkin' I give a d**n." Sneering grin to fix upon her lips after.

Meanwhile.....back at the bar, his best friend with mug of ale in hand, found his eyes flashing over the dancer female like Spanish gold. "Would appear so. Got ye to myself now. Pretty good plannin' won't ye agree." He moved himself a little closer towards her until his body brushed up against her side. "Ye tire of that thar bore yet?" Motioning to the other guy.

Tsk tsking sound. "Looks like yea mate played yae like a fine fiddle. He's gonna be gettin' some easy arse, while yea be lickin' yea wounds."

"Thinkin' ye gave a d**n? Madame, I couldn't care if ye know yer ass from yer shoes. I am just tryin' to help out a friend." Hand to chest, he shook his head dolefully, while watching the sneer with lazy lift of shoulders. "He prefers his arse easy. Not all do. Ye have yerself a grand eve. I'm sure we'll 'catch' ye on the water soon." He could slit Pan's throat, but what would be the point? It would never get him anywhere and he rather liked the dog.

Be well, Tier. ::A smile and wave to the young thief. The brush of bodies enhanced as hers turned back from the wave to stroke lace over his arm. She took up the glass and ignored the question from the pirate. Posing instead oneof her own.:: Do you always have him fight for your entertainment?

"T' only t'in o'mae ye'll be catchin' upon t'open waters, will be the drift o'mae wake." Waving the man off as she would a fly that irritated her. Now that the one was leaving, and the other was involved with the wench, she could get back to her drinking.

"Aye, he's not likely to put up much of a fuss himself so he has me do it for him." Said with a drawl of amusement while he reach around both of them. "Wakin' up at the foot of my bed's all ye'd be good for." Said with another shift of shoulders, an easy settle of lips in a smile. It was so innane that it normally caused blood vessels to blow. Nothing seemed to stick to Dion, just roll like water of a ducks back right off.

[JD Black]

[shadow=red,left,300] [glow=blue,2,300]Medieval Tavern [/glow] [/shadow]

[shadow=black,left,300] SSDD[/shadow]

Just as the pint was lifted to drink from, she heard Delphian's comment and it caused her to spew when she burst into laughter.

Open waters. The accent. The style of speaking. Yup, it all made sense. Another signal to Bess to refill the woman's glass, as he slid a few more coins across to her.

He gave her a roving gaze, smirking when his eyes fell on her face. "I live fer the excitement of a little fun entertainment, lovey." A glance darted back the other way, spotting Dion making his way back. Alive and intact. "Get yer honor back mate?" He grinned.

I don't think so. He's still breathing. ::Pointed glance down.:: And whole.

It was easier to put one off with laughter, than an outright brawl. And seeing as he was six sheets of a course to the wind, it wasn't as if much of a fight could be had anyways. "Nah, I left it for homage at her feet. Seems like a nice spot that. Down on yer knees, worshipping." Brows lifted and lowered rapidly, he laughed right into his mug and took to being lazy like a cat in the sun. "I told ye, she likes me. Better than Pan here, that's for sure." Hand tapped to his friends shoulder, he raised his mug once more and readily drowned.

"Left overs from t'Ton's dribble down a w'ores leg." Narrowed gaze to rest upon Bess. "Yae been bredin' 'gain!" Accusingly stated, taking the newly refilled pint in hand. Glance towards Brehnic. "I wouldn' chain either o'em in me 'olds fer mae mates t'have a crack at!" That was said very vocally.

He'd raise his tankard to the woman once again, now looking at her with a different reason ... And getting a look at the other two, via a passing glance.

Lips smacked, an imitation of thirst once more while the last of the seafarer's insults was brushed off almost literally as he took to dusting his shoulder off. "Eh, at least she let me have some pedigree, aye?" Nothing wrong with amix of money and the bottom of the barrel. Happened all the time.

Panamon was many things and proudly boasted every shameful one. He belched, loudly. Even thought about ordering up another round. "Where'd we dock the ship, Dion?" Came the question out of the blue.

With a slurred blink there was a moment of indecision while he thought on the answer. "Well Capt'n, ye just follow the second star on the right. It'll take you right her." And right off the pier he hoped. He deserved to be dunked like a seal.

Reading eyes. Hers. Theirs. And whoever was paying attention right about then. A smile given at JD's comment. This might benefit him in the long run if he played it right. A slow nod offered to Dancer who was also watching the drama play itself out.


As far as drunk? The only time the swashbuckler was even close to being sober, was just moments prior to a boarding, and that was because of the adreline rush that took place upon the chase. Although, she did capture the conversation and took note of where their ship's placement would be. Pint on the rise, planning had already commenced.

He squinted an eye, thinking for a moment. "Eh, dun matter much. We'll just commandeer the first ship we come across." A roll of those shoulders, the tall, lean pirate would brush down against the dancer. "Ye like to take a voyage around the harbor, lovely?" Giving her a raunchy wink.

"Well ... That was ... Interesting. So, you're a seafarer, hmmm?" Finally breaking his silence, his head tilting to one side.

It was highly unlikely even if he was tossed and gone to give that away. He wasn't a first time seal out on the shoals. "A-yep. Sounds about right." Setting the empty mug down, his hands took a quick swipe of hands over his face to settle the ale he'd imbibed. Hell, the room was tilting nicely. Went well with the sway of the sea.

"Yae bae no' as dense as yae bae lookin'" Commented to Brehnic when the pint lowered so a breath could be taken and the rum swallowed. It rose soon after for another drink.

::She returned the slow nod with a bit of a smile. Then eased away from the brush of shoulder. Slight hauteur mingled with a grin.:: After you've had a bath, darlin'.

He stunk? He sniffed around the collar of his shirt, then raised an arm and inhaled. Panamon lowered his arm and stared at the dancer. "Thar be a sayin' lovely. Old seamen dun die, they just smell that way." He didn't notice any untoward smells from himself.

"He's likely to melt if ye go at him with a bar of lye and water dove." Said with a nonchalant lift of shoulders from the slighter of the two. He was grinning, the edges of it tipsy enough to be foolhardy.

::Probably because his nose had long shut down in self defense.:: That explains why harbors always smell so bad.

He had to chuckle at that. "I could say the same about you. Freinds of yours, or the result of a deal gone wrong?" Yeah, he was actually curious at this moment.

Creole rubbed his hands over the front of his shirt. "Ahh, nothing like the smell of a harbor." His eyes flashed to the side, watching Dion in silence.

Again that pint would lower and a bit of an irritated sigh to follow. Answering questions meant she couldn't be drinking. Glance in his direction. "I don' 'ave friends, 'n I don' deal." With that said, the pint was again on the rise and that drinking to commence once again.

::She finished up the wine. A shade of disappointment in her face as she set the glass down. Her task for the night would not be completed it seemed. Then without very much warning, she reached for Creole. Assuming he didn't shy back in utter horror, her hand would capture the back of his neck and draw him down to her mouth. Lips wine sweetened and desire warmed claimed his. The Dancer was in the mood for a kiss.::

"Ye've got some wit there, Panamon." He was starting to get itchy to move. "Harbors are for the dry rot that call themselves sailors. They spend more time tied to land than they do the sea. Not much more than a waste of breath and time." Another roll of eyes, but this time there was a faint trace of apprehension in them. They didn't smell. She smelled. Probably should go a little easier on that perfume of hers.

He started to grin at Dion. A pirate without wit was like a sinking ship. Ooooh slurp! Attention grabbed and turned the pirate's eyes danced over the female for a moment before two hands snaked around her waist and easily lifted her from the seat. Not only did he lip lock with her, the famed black dog slipped his tongue right past her lips. Tasty. A little salt and brine, mixed with ale. Satisifed growl of pride formed off his lips.

"You don't deal huh? d**n. There goes my offer. Worth a nice bit of ...." Been talking too long. He needed ale. Picking up the tankard, he finished it off.

Bored with it, at least that's what the outward expression said as Dion looked toward the seafarer with a slight incline toward the dancer and his compatriot. As if to say, 'see told ye he liked easy'. Elbows braced, and booted feet crossed he let the alcohol in his system lull the sharper edges of irritation in favor of staring blinding up at the beams of the ceiling.

Dancer was a walking contradiction. Telling the seafarer he smelled bad, then grabbed him for a lip lock. Seemed the woman would do what she could to get into the man's pants. Typical of the women in this place. "T'Lady bae nae fer ire." Not speaking of herself in any manner, but of her ship, more importantly ships, not that it needed to be pluralized to a total stranger.

[JD Black]

[shadow=red,left,300] [glow=blue,2,300]Medieval Tavern [/glow] [/shadow]

[shadow=black,left,300] SSDD[/shadow]

::She never denied being a sleeper. It was such good cover. The little lift dragged her slightly against him. Tongue played a brief game of tag. Then her hand went to his chest and she pushed back from him. Bit of grin. She had gotten what she wanted.:: Not bad, darlin'. Rather like beer batter fish fry. The good kind.

He groaned aloud then, then laughed. There was no denying the need for it as it bubbled up raw and throaty. "She's callin' ye dinner, Pan." A harsh slap given to his friend's shoulder blade, he eased from the bar with a whoosh of air from his lungs. "Ye sure can pick a dalliance." Chuckling still as his head was shaken.

If she was this ... Nice when sober ... Oy, now there's a scary thought!!! "Got a name you go by? I have a offer." Straight and to the point. The tankard was set down, his focus now on her fully.

On the contrary, the Journeyman would be sorely mistaken. The swashbuckler was keeping the serving wench hopping. "Aye, I do." To be the response given before the pint was on the rise. Before a sip was taken, it'd pause just before it touched her lips. "Spak yae peace 'n bae a gettin' it over wit'." Grumbled, the pint lifted further to take a long drink of that rum.

Creole set the female to her feet, eyes cast down on her face. He was going to say something, instead finding himself grinning at her. "Wha be yer name, before ye go off vanishing?" He jerked forward from the second slap off Dion tonight. He was just jealous that the sea wench shot him down.

Sorely wounded was he, yada, yada, yada.

Dion was more than likely Eunich, he didn't seem to have a set of balls, not even brass ones.

Eh, he was just bone ass lazy.

::She tossed a wink off to Dion then rested her gaze back on Creole's grin. Eh, she was leaving town soon anyway so what was the harm?:: They call me the Dancer, darlin'. But you can call me "Yes, ma'am". ::She just dared him, eyes dancing, grin forming.::

"You have means of getting from one place to another. Room for another? I can hold my own, plus I know .... Things." Yeah, like she'd go with just his say so. But it was a start.

"Shae bae nae a passenger ship either." Stated as the pint slammed back onto the bar's top. This to let Bess know she best get her arse down there to refill it. "Yae better bae a servin' mae befer yae do t'at t'ere stinkin' wench too!" Growled at Bess with a hitch of a thumb to the woman that approached the bar.

One brow rose high on the pirate's forehead, dead silent for the longest time. He cut a glance to Dion then back to this dancer. Suddenly he barked with laughter. "Only on me knees, lass." He gave her a swat on the behind then moved on over to Dion and slapped a hand over his shoulder. "Let's shove off and find us more trouble." Shooting him a wink. He knew the kind of trouble Creole meant by that too.

There is always that one moment of indeicions where better judgment was swiped aside by brazen need for adventure. He gave an 'ah-Christ' look to the ceiling before nodding and shoving from the bar. "Aye, trouble 'tis. Ye've a canny knack for finding it." Which was why, Dion had an equally canny knack for getting them out of it.

My point exactly, darlin'. ::His hand grazed silk as a deft slide of form put that backside just out of his reach. She was chuckling as she set the glass down and headed for the door. Too bad she didn't get to deliver her bill. Oh well, another day.::

"Braydon Zachariah." Simply stated, eyes looking directly at her.

A glance cast out towards the room to settle upon one who sat off by himself. A moment to make eye contact, then a glance in the direction of Pan and Delphian. The man would stand and exit the tavern. The two men would gain a shadow tonight. A glance back towards Brehnic and then to the refilled pint. What he stated needed no response, so none was given.

"Cut you, and ice water flows from your soul, hmm? "

Snickering to sound before the pint even lowered, which it would do shortly after. "Yae sae t'at as iffen it bae a bad t'ing." Glance over at Brehnic, quite amused by his question.

"I was his first mate. Man was obssessed with finding the killer of his father. Rambled on about sending an assassin to kill someone connected in the present generation. Masingil ... Masinstroke ... Wait ... Basinstoke I think it was. When that didn't work, he went off the deep end. Paranoid. The lot of us started losing faith in him. I left several months ago, trying my hand on land."

A glance around to see who Brehnic was speaking to, for his words made no sense to her. If she recognized the name, it never showed. Again, his statement made left nothing to respond to, so she didn't and just continued to drink.

"Heard the crew went muntiny. They shot him and threw him over board. It's all about honor, even for what we do. Didn't click who you were until that little face off earlier. I respect what you do. I need the feel of the sea under me once again. Being his former first mate, I know ... Things. But never had a reason to reveal them ... Until now."

Pint to lower and she'd turn slightly to look directly at him. "Just w'o dae yae bae a t'inkin' I am boyo?" Just a slight rise of that left brow, 'n just w'ot bae yae a talkin' 'bout?"

"Captain said yer the daughter of the man that killed his father." Simply stated.

Snickering. "First off, I bae nae named Basinstoke, 'r masterstroke, 'r enyt'ink like t'at. Second off, I neva gave yae mae name, or indication o'w'o I bae. T'irdly, yea 'aven't a clue of exactly w'o I am." Unimpressed by the comments being made. The pint again on the rise to finish off the rum before it slammed on the bar to let Bess know she better get it refilled again, and quickly.

"Then my former captain was more of a fool than we knew. " Standing away from the stool, he gave the woman a nod. I'll be sure to tell the others of this as well. "

"Aye, sounds like nae only yae former Capt'n, but 'is former crew as well." Sneering smirk directed towards him just as the portly serving wench finally made it down towards her to refill that pint. "Iffen yae kept yae legs t'geth'r wench, yae could be a servin' faster." Snagging the pint back in hand.

'Thanks for the rather interesting eve just the same. " Taking his leave of the tavern, he was soon joined by two more men. "Braydon was a fool, or that woman is a very good liar. Perhaps both. Didn't expect her to just tell me what I needed to know, but she's connected. Somehow. Proceed as planned, and ship out at first light. I have things to do here." Both men would nod before racing off into the night, leaving Brehnic to ponder this chance encounter, before shaking it off. That way of thinking caused him to turn on and kill his Captain. The woman wasn't seen as a threat. Besides she had her own problems. Whistling an old pirates tune, he vanished down the cobblestone road .......

A glance back towards the room, two who sat in silent conversation would be looked upon. She would then glance towards the door, and another shadow would be sent out into the night, one to follow the two men, the other to follow Brehnic and report back to her later.

[JD Black]

[shadow=red,left,300] [glow=blue,2,300]Being tailed.[/glow] [/shadow]

[shadow=black,left,300] SSDD[/shadow]

The men that JD had follow Brehnic kept back so not to be quite noticable. They would eventually split up, so not to be seen traveling together. When it was noticed as to the direction that Brehnic was taking, one of the men eased ahead to enter the tavern before the others. Heading to the bar to take claim upon a stool at it's far end. This way he could watch the room in a casual manner while slurping down a few tankards of ale.


It was one of the more ... popular dock side taverns, filled with loud noise, smells of ale and smoke, and random conversations. So why go for the out of the way ones, unless you had something to hide. Brehnic didn't of course. Hell, it was one of the easiest jobs he ever got paid for. What? To hang around a tavern until some female came along and discuss with her some cryptic story, with the ABSOLUTE promise that he wouldn't get shot/stabbed or any other nasty bodily injury.

Too easy.

And that was what bothered him the most. But, if not for a marker being called in, as well the long time trust, he would have told the pair of them to simply ...

Sod off.

The usual *Medieval Tavern* like greetings to those who knew him on the porch/railing/steps, as well those on the inside, including a serving wench or three that ... KNEW him.

But that is another story for another time.


It would be behind Brehnic that he'd make his way up to the tavern. He'd await a moment when a group began to make their way inside. Easy it was to slip in, seeming all chummy with the drunken lot. They accepted him in like a long lost brother, all laughing and telling crude jokes. Perfect position in which to watch the one being tailed, as well as finding out exactly who he was here to meet, if anyone.

Waving over to his fav tavern wench Cassie, he pointed over to one particular table, then held up four fingers, finally followed by a thumbs up. Pausing along the way to hold several whispered conversations, his short trek would lead him to a familiar table where two others sat waiting, a pair that he has known since the days of his own sailing of the seas ...

"See? He's back, and in once piece. I told you, he's way too careful to be so careless. Have a sit down, mate. "

"I don't see why you simply didn't do this yourself, Bryce. This is something Maverick would resort to. (m) Men."

A hearty chuckle was delivered to them both, a chair kicked out to the newest arrival, just in time as the ordered pints of ale also made their arrival. A handshake to one, while a wink sent to the other.

"Don't mind if I do, and salutations to you both as well. Care to tell me why that was so god awful important to use a marker? I know how valuable those things are to you, sea dawg."

"Tis all about keeping your friends close, and your enemies closer."

"That means, he's thinking with his glands again."

"Oh really? And I hope one that looks as fetching as she, would be a friend? I caught a taste of the fire in those eyes, at a couple of others ..."

"Fire in her eyes? I doubt that, Brehnic. because they are still alive, and were probably followed, just like you."

That got an arch of the eyebrow. "Me? Followed? You think?"

"Tell me you are not THAT naive, ole master of thieves. Of course you were tailed. Probably the moment you left the tavern."

"Ayup. But don' worry, if you were considered any sort of threat, you'd know it."

"Thanks. I think."

Bryce just gave Brehnic a wink and a smile, before finishing his own pint.

The female on his left shakes her head, before shuffling a deck of cards, a devilish grin playing on her lips.

"Any more talk? I'm oh so ready to relieve you both of your gold this eve. will maverick be joining this little reunion as well, little brother?"

(m) "You know I hate it when you call me that, Tallia. And he should be enroute. Took a lot of convincing to get him to come back to jolly ole Rhydin. Sour memories here an' all."

"Well, I hope he shows. I miss the pain in my arse. It's been too long since any of us have been together long enough to cause a bit of a ruckus."

Brehnic of course did what he does best when others began to converse ... Just nod, smile and listen with a keen ear, even though he wasn't sure what his childhood friends were getting him into ... The fun part of course would be finding out. Whoever that woman was in the tavern, seemed to get a gleam in Bryce's eye whenever he spoke of her ... Though never by name.

Interesting.