The aspect of the town of Brigandy Bay's lighthouse greeted us as we sailed into the eponymous bay, and readied ourself for berthing. The harbour was rather small, and not overly crowded, with only two other ships docked here; a massive galleon lay on the quay wall, and alongside our vessel, across the pier, a frigate, its all-too-merry crew laughing and jeering at us and our minute sloop, and shouting some unpleasantly lewd remarks our way.
Mustering our dignity, we finished docking, and as there was no harbourmaster to greet us, we were left to our own devices for now. The Captain decided to grant the crew shore leave at this very instant, and authorised me to disburse their pay for the month, from our ship's coffers. While the other crewmen scurried off into town, our resident crab lady decided to stay aboard, suggesting that we visit the bar "Black Queen", within the harbour premises, to get settled in.
After a short walk, we reached the establishment, which was rather crowded, with only a single, conspicuously vacant table in the centre of the room. With the barkeep's approval, we sat down, ordered drinks from his rather paltry selection, and while I struggled to acclimatise to the taste of "grog", the others related tales of our exploits to the barkeep and other listeners.
All this went its rather uneventful course, until the moment a band of about a dozen people came in, obviously sailors, and their spokesman declared that they were the crew of the "Dawn Raider", the frigate neighbouring our ship, and they were regulars here whose table we had unjustly occupied. As to me, our stay had not been particularly pleasurable from the outset, I was prepared to acquiesce and
leave. Captain Cortés, however, insisted that we had a right to stay here, and would want to exercise that. The argument swiftly became a heated one, and turned into a brawl quicker than I could cope with, when in an instant, a particularly unsightly ruffian jumped over a perfectly uninvolved table
and tore me to the ground rather violently. Before he could follow through with whatever obscenity he had planned, however, Mistress Saran had rushed to my side and covered me.
Unpleasant as it was, up to this instant we faced merely a bar brawl, but Master Krastus decided to change that in an instant. In retaliation for an attempt to grab one of his eyestalks, he summoned forth the powerful forces of the gale, unleashing pandemonium inside the small bar room. We were deafened by the horrible noise of the rushing wind, admixed with the shattering of items, and men screaming in pain and terror. When the gale subsided, the lot of his opposition had been smashed to the back wall, and the more unfortunate ones had been pelted with items of furniture or cutlery. Several lay motionless, profusely bleeding. The room fell silent, and the leader of the other crew glared at us vengefully.
Captain Cortés surmised we were no longer welcome here, and as the others collected their injured and dead, we quickly took our leave, all abject with guilt and shame. All but Master Krastus, who went on to utter his general contempt for the human race, tried to justify the excessive brutality
committed, and even had the gall to remark that this time, his spell had succeeded "exceptionally well". We would have nothing of that, and expecting further trouble to arise from the incident, we hastened to get our business in town done.
There was a small market in town, and while the others went to restock our provisions, I looked for a trader who would buy the sundry wares we had recovered from the ruin. Eventually, a hawker with a pronounced accent agreed to purchase them for a fair price, and also offered items from his remarkable collection to us, including a monkey's foot, which fascinated Master Grey just as a piece of thread would do to a cat.
He also offered a leather tube to us, claiming that inside we'd find a map, leading to a treasure of the infamous pirate l'Ollonais, a somewhat familiar name even in the history books of my homeland, and apparently around these parts as well. The map was supposedly spirited away by a disgruntled crewman, who could not finance an expedition by himself. The treasure was said to contain the
personal sword of a feared conquistador, a namesake of our Captain.
The others decided to find another tavern near the marketplace, but word had spread and they refused any of us in as long as our Mage was still with us. So, Master Krastus and I returned to the ship, in order to have a first examination of the purchased map. While on the pier, we spotted suspicious persons hiding aboard the "Wild Monkey", though not wearing the colours of the "Dawn Raider". Behind us, an armed band approached the pier, and once we were cornered, we met their leader, the
Captain of the galleon "Nightmare Ascendant", going by the name of "La Sanguine". I was requested to turn over Master Krastus, who by his actions had violated the Pirates' Code of Conduct.
I remarked that as a fellow crewmember, I had no authority over Master Krastus, who then once more gave hollow justifications for his brutality. In the end, he made the convincing point that in such cases, a captain would need to be offered the opportunity to negotiate for an offending crewman, and we awaited the return of a rather exasperated Captain Cortés. After a bout of haggling, the parties agreed that Master Krastus would not be maimed as a punishment, but we would forfeit our cargo of iron, as well as the Captain's newly found enchanted blade. We returned to our ship to spend the night, and spirits were low at this point.
The next morning, our ship was ready to leave harbour, and I got to know a new crewmember, who had been enticed by the others during their tavern visit, an Englishman called William Potter, who
shared Master Grey's love for games of chance. Our first examination of the map indicated the island of Perck as a likely destination, so we plotted a southwesterly course. Winds were fickle on the first
day, but in the end we were well underway, and after another day, spotted the sails of a Kieran merchantman on the horizon. Captain Cortés ordered to hoist the quaint monkey flag, which Master Grey had stitched together in his spare time, and pursue the ship, much to my dismay. As we caught up to the ship by late afternoon, we had chased them atop a shallow reef, and their vessel was crippled.
Master Cortés demanded they forfeit their cargo, and while they were initially defiant, they complied when the hopelessness of their situation became obvious. A portion of their cargo, precious silk from
Deiking, was hauled into holds of our ship, and two members of their crew were convinced to join us, a Dutchman called Wim Klokje, and a Doreen sailor whose name was incomprehensible to me. All things considered, we obviously were a pirate vessel now, a perspective that profoundly failed to elate me.
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