Rum & Recruits.

##Scarlet found herself propped uncomfortably against a nearby barrel of water, her hat covering her face away from the glaring morning sun. Last she had remembered, her crew had been upon the ship made of metal and now..well, now she was here.

Removing her hat from her face with a loud and tasteless groan it was with relief that her brain was able to fathom that everything was ok. Why? Well, for one, she was capable of recognizing the tavern since it happened to be one she frequented many times before becoming a captain.

Sitting up and wiping the dust from her arms, she slowly gathered her thoughts. What was the reason for leaving the ship? Ah, more crew members...so where were they? Did she ever recruit any?

Those latter questions, she was unable to answer and so she looked around for one-eyed George, wondering where he was. Randomly, she just shouted out for him. ##

"GEORGE? Where are you, matey?"

~He stood a ways from the lass pondering the vehicle of her appearance and shook his head somewhat, still unable to clear the cotton from his sleep-deprived mind. It had been days since he had been to sea and the depression of motionless land weighed o'r him like a lead bower hanging from a rusty windlass. He glanced two and fro for the man called as "one-eyed George" but didn't catch site of him. Surely the fiery wench wasn't talking to him. He squinted with his left eye as he resisted the urge to scratch the patch covering his right. He remained under the eve of the tavern, back against its wall so as to keep out of the son and leaned against it.~

"Ye seem lost lass, wouldn't due for a saucy broad like you to be 'angin' 'round 'ere all by yer lonesome."

~He had no obvious weapons about his person, but there was an odd, what appeared to be an instrument, propped next to him. It at first seemed to be a lute, but its neck was quite a bit longer and seemed to made of a harder wood, possibly dark cherry. It was an odd contraption, and it was strung six ways twice. Next to this was a oiled leather pack which bugled with his few meger belonging. His eye twitched a bit and his face, while clean-shaven was scared about. All in all he gave the appearance of a seed, half-drunk, vagabond with naught but boozing, wenching, and brawling on his mind.~

## Her attentions went from glancing desperately around for George to the guy who had spoken directly to her from the Tavern deck. Her brow raised at his words. She replied as she approached him, straightening herself up. ##

"I'll 'ave you know, Mister, that I'm well known round these parts, y'see, an there ain't nothing lost about me. I've fought two Carthallions an' won, yer know. All by my lonesome, so no - I'm not lost."

##As if, by fighting two Carthallions was a reason to be lost, yet that wasn't taken into calculation by the hungover Sea Captain.##

"However, I am lookin' for one-eyed George...and whilst you're not George, you're one-eyed, so you'll do. We're recruitin' for the high seas, are you familiar with a ship?"

~He allowed the slight smirk to flash upon his face producing a toothpick from his tunic and placing it in the corner of his mouth. He tilted his head to one side, the left side, and pushed himself off the wall and stood stock still for a moment assuring himself his legs wouldn't dance from beneath him.~

"Well now it depends on what ye call a ship."

~He reached down a picked up his pack and slung it over his left shoulder and lifted the Clarion onto his right and moved to meet her stopping a courteous pace or so away. His step seemed to swagger but the lass would have known the man wasn't drunk and that it was merely his sea legs fighting the immovable earth beneath him.~

"As fer yer reputation the only gingers I know with a body like yours work in the ale house."

~He eyed her up and down as his tongue moved the toothpick back and forth. He noticed the way she stood and the calm assurance of her eyes, the lass was defiantly a pirate, possibly a boson or a mate, and she was most definitely not a wench.~

"Just consider my FLEET modest but sea worthy. We have a mixture of ships that we've mustered from merhcants sailing into Cape Salarain. But me main ship, yer won't ave seen anything like it..see, designed by a Carthallion an' when he died, he gave it to me...only its made out of metal."

## Scarlet noted his smirk, and in a way, it annoyed her for she felt that he was humoring her. Yet, she held a small stagger of her own, even if she was standing still. One hand came up as she rubbed her head, wondering if she had bumped it or if the rum was what was making her so groggy.

Her eyes caught sight of Clarion, and suddenly she saw something she liked. It had captured her curiosity since she had never seen one before. So, in true fashion, she came to the conclusion she'd steal it - until he made his final comment to which she'd figured she'd kill him for it.

Swiftly, her right hand reached across her midriff for her cutlass and she drew it out at full length. ##

"All right, matey. Thats enough of yer speakin' to me with disrespect."

## Her own lips carved into a mischievious smirk.##

"Lets see what yer made of."

~His smirk drained from his face, it was replaced by a thin lipped scowl. His left hand relaxed and the oiled pack slid from his shoulder with a thump, something inside was metal, heavy metal. His hands gingerly grasped the Clarion, the act looking almost comical on such a rough looking man, and he crouched slightly laying it down on his pack softly. He rose back up only slightly as he shifted his weight back a bit and took a stance. His left foot slightly forward his right leg back and to the outside right, both hands, empty, palms facing out and just above his chest. It looked as though he was going to raise his hands up in surrender but was frozen half way.~

"I don'a know why i'tis ye be wishin' ta fight me lass, not meanin any disrespect. Me mother herself bein' One 'o them bawdy brides which be seekin' tha' affections o' the sailors. But Ifin' I wouldn't'a taken a drawn blade lightly from Gurd himself, I sure as be fittn' wonna' take it from ye."

~His eye glared at her, she would see immediately that death was not among this man's fears, and very doubtful if he had a single one. His posture while seemingly casual, almost comfortable, held a tight tension almost akin to a rusted steel trap, you'd assume it would spring, but hadn't a clue as to when.~

## Standing poised, her feet steady and apart, Scarlet could do no more than watch him as he put his material things down on the ground. Her arm remained outstretched with the cutlass out and glinting from the harsh sun as her eyes kept clearly upon his own with an air of confidence.

With her chin up, those eyes glanced towards the bag and she was about to ask about it until he spoke once again. Ready to strike and take a swish at him, Scarlet paused rather sharply at his mention of Gurd. ##

"Yer knew Gurd?"

## Lowering her weapon only slightly, her shoulders shrugged in memory of the great pirates fall. ##

"He was a good minotaur, aye, one of the best me ship ever 'ad."

## She placed her weapon by her side, sheathing in. Her aura went from defensive to more calm as she grinned and patted his tense shoulder. ##

"If he trained yer, then you're welcome to join us on voyages, aye. Gurd, he was a nice bloke, a good matey who never left me side, not even till the end. So come on, get yer things and we'll go for a mornin' drink...then you can tell me what that weird instrument is."

~He flinched ever so slightly, not at all to anyone watching, but she would notice. He didn't strike however, many cause he probably couldn't have struck a woman if he'd wanted to, his mother had trained him perhaps a little to well. His face, which seemed to play every emotion out like a staged play lost its stern edge and was replaced with absolute puzzlement.~

"Yer ship?"

~His relaxed his body and reached down, deftly taking up his pack, which was actually more of a seaman's duffel, from beneath the Clarion as he gently yet quickly lifted it by its strap over his head to settle on his back, strap across his chest.~

"I was the moonraker aboard tha' Morbid Dishonor fer seven year. T'was Captain Gurd's ship lass, and I didn'a see ye on it, not once. I was one of the handful of surviors 'o the assult on the Icehold. 'Tis how I earned me patch."

~He spoke as he pushed back his unruly hair to expose the patch over his right eye and the scars mangling most of the right side of his face. He fell in step beside her towards the tavern, still unsure as to who this strumpet was, but he felt a bit of affinity for her. That is, if she weren't so blasted cocky.~

"Yes me ship. Whats the matter with yer? You got one ear as well as one eye?"

## She laughed giving him a nudge as she walked past stepping up onto the wooden deck of the tavern. Opening the door, Scarlet nodded for him to follow and expected him to come along as she talked. Her tone was light, and her lips still held a knowing smirk. ##

"Aye, so no wonder yer don't know who I am, sittin' up in a nest all day and noddin' off to sleep no doubt. Safest place to be, them little baskets. Not exactly brimming with action up there, are they?"

## With her boots clanking against the dusty wood of the almost quiet bar, she continued her stride - still one hand upon the hilt of the cutlass, an old habit. Helping herself to a seat she sighed and looked directly at his wound caused by the Icehold battle. ##

"I miss ole Gurd. He was somethin' else, I was the one who led the ships into Icehold - he worked under me, he did. We were used by Victor Carthallion who paid us a pretty penny to go into that place an' I shouldn't 'ave but the offer was too good."

## Peering round the bar she banged her fist on the thick wooden counter top. ##

"Horris! Get this man a mornin' ale..I'll buy, just this once."

##Turning back to him she shrugged. ##

"I'm sorry yer lost yer eye, but it suits yer face, so it worked out."

~He refused the barb, a man doesn't live long as a scallywag if he lights his fuse over every jib and tousle. And nearly stopped short, catching himself before he did and forced his step to remain fluid as his mind reeled. She lead the forces into Icehold?! He gazed are her and shook his head at Horris and inclined his head towards a battered wooden box on the mid-shelf. It appeared to be a decoration of some sorta not big enough to hold a bottle but Horris seemed to heave a sigh and slightly rolls his eyes yet moved over and took a pitch of powder out of the box and mixed it with some heated water, setting the mug down before Mizzen and a second of Ale in front of Scarlet. He mumbled something such as, "What kida' man donna' drink any grog?" but doesn't speak aloud.~

"Yer settin' there tellin' me yer tha' Scarlet Death 'imself?! An' I'ma suposin' ta believe such a tale? Yer a lass, yer no bloke. 'sides I 'erd tha' Scarlet Death went down with'n 'is ship."

~He took the mug and sniffed the armoa in deeply before taking a gulp. He wiped his face and chin with one sleave and pondered for a bit looking over towards the fireplace then looked back at Scarlet. He looked into her eyes and almost smiled at the comment about his scars going with his face, he'd thought the same thing himself once he'd healed up. He raised an eyebrow as he gazed at her intently.~

"Yer serious ain't ye...?"

## Leaning casually on the bar, her legs crossed roughly over the tall stall she gave him a sideways glance as Horris brought over her drink. Taking the tankard she made sure she got in a good swig and shook her head. Her free hand balled into a fist, since her first instinct was to punch him. She lacked the understanding that everyone would naturally assume she was a bloke - she simply expected people to know who she was.

Until he asked if she was serious, and still she stared at him, her mood rapidly turning dark. The memories poured into her mind, and it made her blink to just push them away. ##

"I barely escaped with me life, I had Vladamir Carthallion's tigers chasin' me down a tunnel. Gurd...he weren't so fortunate. Aye, there's some price to pay for that an' I'll ave it when I'm good and ready -which will be when we got a crew all sorted."

~Keeping the eyebrow raised a moment longer his mind apparently made something up for him, because he tipped up his mug and gulped it down slammed it on the counter and wiped his face with his right sleeve. He stared at her hard for a moment his eyes drinking in every inch of her face, she could tell he was serious because his eyes didn't drift south, not even for a second. Finally he noded slightly to himself and he held out his left to Scarlet.~

"Well then me dear, ye've got tha' look, I already seen tha' attitude, and no one in their right mind would falsely claim the name of Scarlet, 'if'n they valued their necks that is. If yer out fer the blood of the blasted bilgerats what went 'an took Captain Gurd, then ye've just gone 'an hired yer'self Mizzen "Mast" La'veer. "

~He allowed a broad grin to split his face, partly due to the very pleasant view he would have while serving under this Captain, very much unlike his previous employers, partly also in the thought of taking his vengeance upon the Auroran scum who killed his Captain.~

*Corey wanders away from the docks, his loose fitting clothes clinging to his skin, weighed down with seawater. He is missing a boot and the other squelches with every step and his face is wearing a murderous look.

Thinking it better not to go back to his usual haunts he heads towards the tavern instead, looking to wash away his bad mood with a good drink. He walks up to the tavern deck, mopping away the water running down his face with one of his grubby sleeves, shambling up to the door and entering.

He stumps through the tavern up to the bar, grumbling to himself and ignoring the others he passes, his mood no better. Leaning on the bar with one elbow he fishes through his sodden pockets to find a small coin purse and removes a few small coins, keeping the purse hidden to avoid attention. Removing the coins from his pockets he slaps them down on the bar, he signals the barmanm the tone of his voice showing his mood as much as his look*

Gimme summat strong man, a bottle iff'n yer got it

~Glancing over at Corey he watches him from the cornner of his eye as he sloshes in and takes a position at the bar. His mind holds back a full blown guffaw and even a slight tear at the sight but a small 'heh' escapes as his eyebrows quirk a bit. Still, in an attempt to at least be partially civil, since a pirate could never be considered completely civil and still be called a pirate, he nods stiffly and offers a short, "G'day.." before averting his gaze.~

*Taking the bottle from the barkeep he turns leaning backwards on the bar, still grumbling to himself he takes a long swig from the bottle, seemingly unaware of the puddle forming under him.

Hearing Mizzen, he turns his thunderous glare in that direction, then barks out a laugh almost doubling over.*

'G'day? Iff'n it were on'y tha' simple!' *He takes another long swig from the bottle.*

'A pox on crews an traitors alike'

*He raises his bottle as if toasting to no-one before taking another swig and letting out another short chuckle*

## Pleased with her new crew member and his words about Gurd, she grinned and downed her drink, slamming the tankard down on the wooden top. **

"Aye, I'll call yer 'Mast' then, or which would yer prefer? Welcome aboard, me matey!"

## She slapped her hand playfully across his shoulder. What Mast didn't know is that she never could remember anyones name and it was likely to be forgotten within the first ten minutes of their encounter. ##

"May we travel far and wide together, aye. I'll show you aboard me ship, an' you can show me what yer got..."

## She glanced across mid-sentance and looked at Corey as Mast said his G'day. Looking back to Mast she shrugged and looked at her empty tankard. ##

"Yer know, barkeep..I could go for just one more to take with me.."

## Grinning, she thrust the empty tankard into the filthy chest of the guy behind the bar. ##

"Ye may call me what ye like Miss Scarlet, I dunna care. This one however, *gesturing to Corey* seems be liken' someone should be callin' 'im a laundress seems he's fell inta' tha drink."

~His chuckles a bit a Corey, though keeps a friendly look on his face. No one intentionally starts a tavern brawl this early.~

"How many ye say you be needin'?"

~He glances over a Corey taken in a quik survey of his attire and equipment yet seeming to be casting his gaze about the bar.~

"Cause I'd say more than I'd be itchin' fer bit o' shwashin' and a lil' bucklin'"

* stomps in through the door of the bar, scanning the room quickly he spots the Captain and grumbles *

~" Captain, the crew wants to know why in the nine hells you aren't on the ship so we can go and do a bit fo hinest pirating"~



~ George's speach is more closely related to a series of barely intelligible grumblings that are only readily understood by the cabin boy or those who are completely sober and really listening. ~

## Taking the freshly filled tankard to her lips, she glanced across to where Mast had indicated ##

"Yeah, we'll take 'im too. Mast, yer first order - make sure you get 'im on the boat with us an' sober him up. If he's no good we'll throw im overboard, but we can do with all the hands we can."

## The door would swing open and so Scarlet swivelled her head at George. Her eyes shone with drunken bewilderment. She knew instantly that it would be one eyed George, there were almost two of him. ##

"Eh? Yeah yeah, George. I was recruitin' 'tis all, me matey."

## It couldn't be more obvious that she didn't understand a word he said, yet she carried on anyway, as if her brain had made up for it with words of its own. ##

"George, don't yer be complaining about the bloody parrot again. I like 'im, he does good for the image. Did yer shoot it and send it to hell? Yer know, that better not be right, matey."

~He shakes his head slowly with a small grin, glancing over at George, back at Scarlet and then over at Corey. He ponders a bit but only a bit before he shrugs.~

"Cap's orders mate, ye 'erd the lady."

~He stands looking at Corey as he lifts his duffel onto one shoulder gingerly placing the Clarion on the same shoulder. His stance is somewhat nochalaunt but he knows better than to underestimate a scalawag, especially a drunk scalawag.~

"Ye can either accept tha Lady's generous offer, 'er I guess ye can come to yer sense amid ship a few hours from now, yer choice. Though person'ly I'd say take'r up on it. She's 'tha Scarlet Death 'eims... 'erself. Ta be sure."

* looks more than a little confused for the moment, shaking his head*

~" Captain, we ate that damned bird three weeks ago when we ran out of provision running from that Auroran ship what had us by the reefs...."~

*He squints up, realising that this stranger is talking to him. He barks a laugh and takes a deep swig from his bottle. He holds it loosely in his hand sensing trouble.*

'Yeh di'nt say please man,'

*He wobbles a little as he turns, leaning a little heavier on the bar than normal. He looks past Mizzen at his would be employer.*

'Hey Lady, yer goon 'ere don't know no manners.'

*He glares at Mizzen, raising his bottle to take another swig.*

~Grins and offers a hand to Corey in case he wished to steady himself.~

"Mate, if'in I'd said please how da ye suposin' t'would look? What kinda pirate would take a bloke seriously spoutin' off like that?"

~Chuckles and adds with a smirk.~

"'Sides there's more drink on tha boat and they don'a charge ye there."

*His eyes refocus upon Mizzen, at the mention of free booze a grin breaks out on his face.*

'Why dincha say so man, iff'n theres drinkin ta be done, i be tha pirate fer ya.'

*Wobbling more than a little he proffers his hand to Mizzen*

'Go by tha name Corey when i be sober, when i be drunk I be's answerin to anythin, jus point the way, me matey.'