Keep your friends close, your enemies closer ...

[JD Black]

There was more that had come to her attention, the sudden growth of one of the Isles she called her own. Jade Island had been settled by Spaniards, which many found amuseing due to how badly the crowned heads wanted her neck. Too bad the imbiciles were searching for a man instead of a woman.

Something she could and would flaunt often. Visiting the very lands that had placed such a high price upon her head. Appearing either as she was, or in the guise of a noble woman. Neither would gain her a second glance, well, at least not one by those who sought the notorious Captain JD Bloodbath Black.

If only they had a clue.

Putting aside her study of the map of England she had before her, she'd rise from her seat within the room of her cabin. Unlike the others, she chose no home upon the land in which to live. Her comforts were her ship, and that's where she remained.

She would however gain land this night, for the purpose of raising a crew to sail to Jade Island, she wished to take a closer look at what was going on there, and see if rumors were true as to the man who's said to be the driving force behind it all.

These were still 'her' waters, 'her' islands, and she'd make sure none upon them would be a barrier for the ships that came and went. Much of her own trading took place between other ships that took refuge here. She'd do all she could to ensure such would continue to be the way

It has been quite some time since the vision of those black sails had been seen billowing against the backdrop of the horizon. From the south the ship would keen as it seemingly flew over the ocean waves. The Black Swan was known for its incredable speed, especially when under weight of bounty and the heavy guns she bore.

A vision that had caused the blood to run cold within the veins of many a Captain and sailor alike when they seen the ominous looking vessel heading towards them. The Figurehead of the A swan in midst of flight, carved from a rich mohogany and polished to a dark shine. It's wings outspread as if about to beat in a downward motion. The long slender neck fully extended, the tip of beak that upon the living bird was nowhere near as sharp.

Upon the Quarterdeck she stood besides her navigator and first mate on either side. Dark hair billowing in the wind as she watched her crew tend to sails and rigging with percision. Almost like watching a ballet, though the dancers were far from pretty with an anorexic figure. Ruffians, hooligans, murders, thieves, and a few who just enjoyed the thrill of being out to sea, this was the crew of nearly a hundred men she commanded.

Spyglass was brought to her by her cabin boy, this would be utilized once they neared the port to seek out the colors of the ships anchored in the bay; best to know exactly where enemies lie, as well as friendlies. It was easy to espy the Spanish colors, and this did give her a bit of amusement to know.

When she and her crew appeared in port, it wasn't in such a way they would be considered a threat or even trouble. The men to seek out the local ale house and women in which to provide them entertainment; though they'd be seeking information as well in a low key manner.

As for the Reaper of the Sea? She would head to the local rum house herself. Though she'd not be seeking the company of any female, like her men, information was her main focus and any means possible in which to gain it.

Baby steps. To enter and immediately begin making inquires would definately look suspicious. Instead, chosing a table off by itself, it would be here that she'd settle and begin watching the crowd that milled about, exited and entered. Booted feet resting upon the seat of the chair opposing her own. While those oceanic depths contined to drift over the area. Ears attuned to conversations near, or those close enough to evesdrop upon. A bottle of rum upon her table and a single glass. She'd now set to the task of putting a good dent in the amount to which the bottle held.

[Corothius Encinosa]

Jade Island. Upon the southeastern side of the island the dock to the spanish fort would be accessable. It was situated amongst the stretch of mountains, hills and plateuas that stretched quite well along the isle. Yet, beyond the Inn was a rather dense jungle that wove well along the lower stretches of land that led further inland. Through these tresspassable trees was the rise of one of said hills that could be pursued to the Fort itself.

The fort is credited for being exactly that, merely a small fortification for defensive purposes if not to guard and protect items of importance, or an unelaborated mission from Spain itself. It though, was no fortress. It was secreted at the end of the rise of one stretch of land that was walled off by a steep part of the mountainside that reached a good hundred feet or so above the fort itself. Then it leveled off into another plateau or perhaps topped off the mountain itself. There were only two walls of the fort truth be told. The west side that faced the jungles, whose trees were cut down for a good 100 required feet from the walls for security reasons as well as to gain the upper hand if it came under attack. The southern wall faced the Inn and the sole dock that it harvested funds from that was so far, all that was found necessary to build for the purposes that were ongoing so far in their time spent upon the island. It thus was not a huge popular affair or business structure that was shipping off tons of gold or such influence. And perhaps, it could easily be just a mere foothold of Spain within the area where it's ships could go to for supplies or similar matters.

Nonetheless, the eastern side of the fortress held no wall. It was an open stretch of land that broke off entirely that led to a drop of another long stretch of a distance that would fall into the passing river that circumnavigated the mountains and led into the seas beyond. Many of the rivers along this side of the island were rather narrow, some creeks, but only a few were navigable by a vessel as large as a light galley. The river below passed along several turns and short waterfalls that assured them that no ship would pass beyond its walls. The walls themselves were a standard 40 feet in height. It's stone working was comprised of rock and boulders that were taken from the very mountainside it was constructed against. It was a rendition of camouflage as well that was unseen from the distant seas if one passed by the area at a particular angle where forests beyond to the south did not clutter ones view.

The Inn at the dock below was large enough to accommodate more than a dozen tables which was suitable for the number of men that came in light galleys from larger ships that had to be anchored still at sea to avoid hitting rocks or shallower shores that surrounded the area and where the mountains roots reached. The inn had a handful of rooms that were more so of the expensive sort designed and furnished for guests who were of a noble civility and sought such a haven in their nightly stay. This could be determinable if not hinted at by the painted portraits upon the upper level walls that over looked the circling balcony’s that allowed an eye to the large chamber below. The bar was enameled with a few slabs of marble as well as trimmings in gold. As was a good amount of the frames that held portraits and other murals that spanned the walls. Gold it seemed was a rather attracting asset that the Inn possessed compared to any found in the Port of Kiel for instance. The choice of drink offered what was found in Spain for the most part, and what was desired by their crewmen as well as the more noble visitors who paid the hospitable Inn temporary residency as well.

Outside of the Inn was only one or two other buildings in truth. Promising that there was no intent for a town to be rooted there, or the allowance for merchants to call it a vestibule for their wares. There wasn't even a vendors stall upon that landing if one sought to purchase a souvenir or décor. Though from within the Inn, one could take note of tribal makings that were set upon the walls for décor. Items that could be looked upon with pride and wonder as to its creation, and creator. And discern secrets of the natives who also lived upon the island.

One of the two other buildings upon the dock was a storehouse. Nothing larger than the fort itself, but large enough to hold enough cargo for a ship and keep it secured in the process. It looked hospitable enough to be put to use for quarters if say a storm were about and a ships crew sought temporary residence until its passing instead of spending the night aboard their ship.

The third and last building also near the dock was made of rocks and timber, but it was apparently of no use as parts of its walls were pulled down, its wooden roof was partially destroyed by what looked to be of natural causes. It though, was not larger than the Inn or the storehouse and seemed
perhaps to have been one of the first that was built in that area.

There were no other galleys at the dock, hers was apparently the only one who was paying the Inn a visit from beyond the permanent residency there. Thus the Inn itself was vacant of any sailors or similar patrons. Instead, there were a few soldiers within it who seemed of the sort who visited it often enough to know that she was not normally seen within it's walls, and eyed her whilst whispering to one another if she had been seen in these whereabouts before. They kept a stern eye upon her. Drabbed in leathered tunics with coal dark studs of steel or such metal protruding in articulated angles from one another along their rather well exercised torsos. Beneath these jergins of leather and steel were notable shirts of mail that came out from their shoulders where leather sleeves were missing and replaced by the darkened steel ringlets that were not the shiny type used in courts but the sort that saw daily use and weather. They of course were armed with sheathed steel either at their sides or leaning against the table if of the longer preference of a blade. A few had set their helms upon the table before she'd entered and they had themselves sitting comfortable. The helms of course were of a spaniard descent. The men were of notable spanish blood as their hair was dark. Their mustaches worn long beyond the corners of their lips with that tip at the middle of their bottom lip. A few of their eyes began to look upon her in a different light. Their drinks no doubt having particular influences upon them that bade them to worry not so much like guards and more so like men.

One of them actually hollered across the establishment till the words were loud enough to settle upon her ears. His tone smooth and filled with confidence and age.

“Ehy, what're you doing sitting way over there? Your not spying on us are yeh? Theres...penalties for spying you know.”

The word “penalties” came out rather hintingly in a low, manly hinthint nature.

[JD Black]

“Ehy, what're you doing sitting way over there? Your not spying on us are yeh? Theres...penalties for spying you know.”

The word “penalties” came out rather hintingly in a low, manly hinthint nature.

Oceanic depths would shift in that idle moment of simply looking about, to now focus upon the one that was bellowing her way, and making an inuendo of threats? Now that she found to be quite amusing, and it would show by the slow formation of a smirk upon her lips. Those that knew her, would inwardly groan when they witnessed such a look upon features. It meant trouble was brewing, and the Devils' mistress was about to come out an play. Slight shift of seating, without interupting that fomation of comfort found in the position of rest she had taken.

What may have struck them as strange? Not a word did she utter in response. No outcry of innocents, or temper tantrum of being falsely accused. Not a peep would emit from those lips that took on an amused lift of corners. A gleam within those dark blue eyes, one might mistake it as a reflection of amused smirk. Others might think it the product of too many cups of good cheer. Others, and the more correct, would take note of the devilish gleen to glint there.

Her state of dress would indicate she was someone that held position of sort. Yet, it could also give a clear enough idea of what that position would very well be. Upper torso encased in a blue colored jacket, its tail to trail nearly to the back of knees in length. Beneath and easily visable was the black corset style bodice, the lacings within the front rather than the back as per usual. Upon lower torso was worn a heavy pair of black cotton breeches, legs tucked neatly into the top of heeless boots of a black leather. Buckles adorned the boots more in a way of decor than having function. Visable had been the daggers about hips, though understand that may not be all adorned.

Though unlike most vagabond of the sea, her clothing was neat and pressed, her features clean and unscarred. Boots were polished to the full sheen of an officer caliber, and weapons viewed looked to be much the same way. Looking as much the part of a noble, as she did a captain of the sea. A woman wearing breeches in public, had to indeed be one whom was bold, or simply daring.

The men that had accompanied her, would make no move nor react either. They knew their place, and they knew if the time was right, for their Captain would indicate it so; and presently she was not. However they would stand back to watch any scene to unfold. Make no doubt coinage was exchanging hands, as various bids were placed as to possible occurances to transpire.

Attention would shift once again, this time in search of the server. Once the woman was found, a hand to lift and gain her attentions. A crook of finger would have the Reaper of the Seas to lure the server closer to share something of a private matter to the woman's ear. The servers eyes went wide and she began to incestiantly giggle, with the occassional glances in the direction of the men. The server then nodded and turned to move away.

She now sat there with a wicked grin upon lips, another glance in the men's direction before focus was on her drink as it was taken in hand. Lifting it to slowly sip of its contents, those ocean blues in motion once more as if the man' words were soon forgotten, or being simply ignored.

Soon enough the man would find the server that she had spoken to now standing at his side. In her hand was a small glass of milk, this to be set down before him. "The Signora over there say to give this to you and this." It was then she'd lay the small rag upon the table by the glass. "She said to use this to sop the milk up from behind your ears." The server couldn't help but to softly chuckle, more because someone had the guts to make such a bold statement of an insult to a man; especially one that wore weapons. "She said, when you grow up into a man, then you'll be worthy her attentions." The server would look to him, then to the others about, before skittering away to tend to others.

She would glance in his direction only once, before focus was back upon the room in full. One hand moved to seemingly rest atop her right thigh. Left hand casually held her glass that was on a slow rise and fall as she enjoyed a sip of the contents it held.