7th Sea: Changing Tides IC (Closed)

[Armphid]

He shouldn't look, really. And he didn't mean to. But as Simona scaled the ladder, Richter glanced up and caught a vision of far more shapely Castillian leg that was proper by any stretch of the imagination. Just leg but to the knee and a bit past but...

Theus, it had been a long time. Which was somewhat amazing considering all the time he'd been in Bilgewater.

Once the Castillian girl was on board, Richter grabbed for the ladder. The weight of his arms again almost pulled him beneath the waves but he hauled himself up the first few rungs on sheer willpower. After that it grew easier, though his ascent was not the agile, speedy action of Simona.

He pulled himself onto the deck into a crouch, resting a moment with his head down. It would be good to just sit for a few moments; to rest and recover. Richter forced himself to stand with a low grunt, {Montaigne} "Forgive us, Captain, for not asking for permission to come aboard first."

The tall Eisen walked across the deck, his eyes searching for his charges. They may be below, but if not, then he should go to them immediately. "I am not a naval man but in a land war, I would not have sent only one force to route out such a group of well-armed forces. Do you think there are more ships coming, Captain?"

 

[SwordsOfTheDane]

Francois glanced at the tall Eisen before returning to puzzling over his own thoughts. {Montaigne} "They threw you the ladder, no? Though you scuttling her makes it rather hard for me to take her as my own. Alas, we may have to see what we can dredge up. Why did you have to blow it up?" he said with no small amount of resignation. "I would expect another ship or two, probably set up light in the cannon, heavy in the crew, to come in and scourge the island. We're not out of the rough yet, though we may have a bit of time." Walking as though in deep meditation he paced over to the Castillian witch and hauled her to her feet. As he turned to begin pacing the other way along the deck he tossed to her {Castille} "There may be some dry clothes in your size in my cabin. Sometimes things get left aboard."

He pondered. They may be able to salvage some of the cannons off of the hulk. They would need to send someone down to lash the cannons to the rigging. From there they had enough brawn to pull the cannons up and either outfit them on the Threnody or sell them off for a pretty profit. He tried to calculate how many cannons were on the Gelacia, how many he'd need for the his ship, and from there how many he'd have to sell off, including his own cannons, and how much would be netted to go into the coffers for maintenance, wages, supplies, "gifts and taxes", and how much he could skim for himself. He grinned slightly.

 

[Armphid]

The captain's words were surprising. Did he really want the Inquisition ship that badly? {Montaigne} "40 salvos, that is why," he answered. The ship had not finished it's resupply when they had left, which would take at least ten minutes, probably closer to 20 depending on how low the stores were. Then it would need to get out of slip and under sail, another 10 to 20 minutes depending on the wind. Assuming the Inquisition gunners were decently trained, they could fire the cannons twice a minute, which meant at least 40 more times death would blast into the pirate town

At which point there would have been nothing of Bilgewater to save, probably a few of the docked ships sunk, and many more lives lost. "I...regret if your profits have suffered," he offered. Not much, but he did.

Nevertheless, the Montaigne had moved on to offer dry clothes to Simona; a gesture that improved Richter's opinion of the man while also carefully informing it. A man who had women's clothes in his cabin would have a certain reputation.

Destroying the Inquisition ship was also the fastest way to make sure it was no danger to Luciana and Diana; as he considered himself hired to protect them for the duration of this action.

Speaking of which, he needed to find them. Richter gave Simona a shallow bow and called to the Captain, "My sword is at your service, Captain, call on me as you will. Only let me see that the women I brought here do not need me further first." He then started to move, hoping to find Luciana and report on the situation to her.

After all, he did not wish her to think she'd hired someone undependable.

 

[Kinkerhell]

As Richter goes off to find the Vodacce and Simona goes to find dry clothing, Francois' crew begins the lengthy process of getting the ship ready for sail. They'll want to leave with the morning tide. Jurgen takes a detail and goes off to find a tug or barge that they can use to go out and salvage the cannon from the Galicia, along with anything else of value.

On the docks, the people of Bilgewater start filtering back out into the streets. The unfortunate cry over fallen friends, while the opportunistic roll them like hobos, taking anything of value and leaving the corpses where they lie. Others begin cleaning up homes, inns, taverns. Many of the Jennies and whores, knowing that their custom will not be coming tonight, change out of their "working clothes" and go home. Others, knowing that some will seek to celebrate the simple joy of surviving, come out into the street and begin flaunting their bodies and their houses, hoping to entice custom back to its previous, raucous level.

Of the bodies, only the inquisition are disposed of. In bilgewater, residents sow their dead in sailcloth and send them out with the tide with the appropriate rituals. The inquisition soldiers, however, are dragged together and torches set to them. Soon, the pile of bodies is burning merrily, exuding greasy black smoke and the sickeningly appetizing smell of roasting pork.

Shills, con-men, and two-bit traders are out selling all manner of remedies for injuries sustained in the attack. Some of them might even work. Elsewhere, looters are picking over buildings hit hard, hoping to find a few valuables and make off with them before the survivors return.

Down the dock, a team of carpenters and shipwrights are trying to fix Berek's ship's rudder, disabled in the attack.

All around, life continues.

 

[SwordsOfTheDane]

As Francois stands near the aft and takes stock of his ship and crew he reaches into his coat and pulls out a book. He quickly steps over to Jergen before he starts down the gangplank. {Vesten} "Jergen, here's the ledger, I'd like you to record anything of note that you manage to salvage, and how much you think it may be worth." Most captains would be leery of handing over the ships ledger to anyone, crew or otherwise, but it was not the only ledger Francois had, nor was it a full one regardless. "We may be getting a wonderfully large profit, and everyone a bonus. Though Also see to it you list who goes out with you. Credit where due, no?"

He tossed a few words the giant Eisens way, {Eisen} "Monsieur, Depending on how much my boys may be able to pull from the brine, there may be favorable circumstances to negotiating passage. Might even work a cozy little tip." He laughed, it was the laugh of a scoundrel though and through, but not an untrustworthy one. "Who knows? I may even hire you at some point, if the price is right."

He had a satisfied smile on his face. If nothing else, there was coin to be had. He heard a small growling in his guts and sighed. Now was as good a time as any to figure out what he needed to know before he had Jergen and Michael throw them off or not. {Montaigne} "I would greatly appreciate if everyone on my deck that I am not paying would come to my cabin in a few minutes. I feel the five of us have business to discuss. If not, I would ask that you please remove yourself from my ship because we will be getting underway in the morning and we do not take on stowaways." He turned and opened the door leading to the interior of the ship.

It almost sensually warm inside the belly of the Black Threnody. Francois stepped down the hallway into the kitchen. It was little more than one of the crew rooms modified to accommodate cooking equipment. One of the few luxuries on the ship that the bo'sun never balked about. He knocked on the outer wall and spoke loudly {Montaigne} "Lafayette, I would like to request a large pot of le boeuf cuit à l'étouffée avec les champignons séchés et le brocoli. I have some guests coming up and I feel that a meal may make negotiations more, doux. If we are still lacking what would be needed for that, I trust your taste." He walked over to the half of a door that allowed the scents of the kitchen to leech into the hallways and through the decks. He always felt that it was good for morale, made it feel more like a home, and men fought harder to defend their home. He leaned on it and peered into the kitchen.

Monsieur Reynolds was a giant of a man, skin almost as dark as the hull and features that most Theans would never be able to place. "Yeah sure, jus' next time, TELL ME when we're gonna be gettin' shot at. I was takin' a break."

"I was not expecting the Inquisition to decide that they had to police everything up to and including Theus' backside." Francois pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and drew seven of the long slender white sticks from he packaging, looked at it thoughtfully before redepositing all but two of them in the package and placing it on the counter. "For the trouble and for the interruption. Merci beaucoup." He got up and started back towards his cabin.

When opened the door he looked around, it was home. He had the largest cabin on the ship, though not as large as he'd like it, it was two rooms separated by a wall with an arched portal through it. when one peered though the portal the could see a large bed, though the front room was where he was focused. There was a short table anchored to the floor and around it lower, almost padded stools. The table was a lacquered cherry wood, and the stools of the same wood with deep navy cushions. The contrast in colors made the cushions look as though black. The cabin has the same sensuous warmth to it, coupled with the color scheme, constant sway and the subtle lapping sound of waves on the hull. It felt just as it was, a maritime nest for the captain and sometimes others.

He slid over to the table and rolled up the maps and charts skewed around it, piled the books in the corner and tried to make it look as much like a receiving room as possible. He raised the lamps to increase the light and opened a couple of the windows to help dispel the languid atmosphere. The fresh sea breeze rushed into the cabin and wrapped everything in it's embrace. This was what he was going for. He sat himself at the head of the table and waited to see who would come though the door and toyed with the ideas of if he had to have them removed.

 

[HookerBoots]

Simona huffed and stalked off below decks. Saved his ship, whether he knew it or not, and he hauled her around like a bag of grain! At least the Eisen had thanked her for her help. She fumed as she found the large cabin that had to belong to her host, yanked the door open, and stalked inside of it, dripping seawater onto the floor as she did.

The first room didn't seem to have much in the way of clothing in it, or storage for same, so she tamped down her curiosity and went to the other door. In there was a large bed, as well as a few places to store clothing. She sighed at the warmth of the rooms and the decor in the cabin. Like most Montaignes, he had decent taste, at least.

There didn't appear to be much in the way of a door in the archway between the two rooms, so Simona shrugged and stepped to one side, stripping of her sodden garments. It felt almost indecently good to be free of the wet, cold weight of her dress, but she made certain to lay the daggers she'd tucked into her belt on the bed, while the pistol went onto a small chest to dry out - she'd take the time to inspect it later.

Then, naked as the day she was born, she turned her attention to the clothing in the wardrobes. One was clearly a place where he stored spare things - dresses, stockings, and the like were tucked away there, and a few of them might have even not been from prostitutes - one robe almost looked like a priest's gown, which was shocking.

Indulging her inquisitive instincts for a moment, she opened the other wardrobe, and grinned. This was where he kept his things. She looked back and forth between the two wardrobes for a moment, and then reached forward, pulling out a few pieces of clothing.

~ ~ ~ ~​

Simona had heard the captain enter the adjacent room, and was just tucking her pistol into her belt again when she did. She used a piece of silk cord that might have been intended as a choker once to tie her wealth of black hair into a loose mass on the back of her head, letting it fall as it would as it dried, and tapped on the archway between the doors, stepping into the opening, letting him look at her.

She was dressed almost entirely in clothing from his wardrobe, a linen shirt that she'd had to leave open an almost scandalous amount. It was saved - barely - from indecency by the corset she'd taken from the women's wardrobe, covering the more salient parts of her breasts while making it look somehow more indecent. A pair of breeches covered her legs, hugging her shapely ass and thighs snugly, above a pair of silken stockings that had been left behind by one of his paramours. She'd considered a jacket, but it was warm enough belowdecks that she didn't need one - it might have been too much, actually - so instead she'd strapped on her own belt, mostly dry, and called it done.

{Castille} "And good day again, captain," she said, inclining her head to him. "I suppose an introduction is in order. I am Simona de San Cristobal de Castille, witch. At your service," she added with a courtly bow.

 

[SwordsOfTheDane]

Francois noted Simona only when she spoke. He silently cursed himself for not being more aware of his surrounding. "aah, qui." He walked up to her and returned the bow, delicately taking her hand and giving it a little kiss on the back. {Castille} "Francois Du Paix, Captain of the Black Threnody. Think nothing of service for the moment Cheri. The others should be joining us shortly, and I asked monsieur Reynolds to prepare us a meal." He eyed her up and down, and suppressed a single amused chortle. She looked like a pirate, and he approved in many ways. "I hope you won't begrudge me a meal, I find that warm and full bellies make for better discussion."

He sat back down again and smiled. "Please have a seat. If nothing more, you are free to rest here for the night, it is likely safer than anywhere you will find in what's left of Bilgewater." He sat considering for a moment before hopping up and walking to a cabinet and opening the doors. It was lined with bottles of varying shape and color, all full of liquids. "Care for a drink? I have rum, brandy, wine if you're so inclined. I also have some mead and beer." He pulled out a bottle of mead for himself and stood aside the cabinet to afford Simona the best view of the contents.

 

[ValiaSirnoca]

Luciana escorted her sister belowdecks, looking for the mysterious "Monsieur Reynolds." Her sister was quiet now, and consented to being led around by the hand, like a small child. She escorted Diana through the dim interior of the ship, looking for a man who was "Easily recognizable." Suddenly, she hears shouting from ahead of her, to the aft of the ship.

{Avalonian} *Indistinct murmuring*

{Avalonian/Montaigne Pidgin} "Bitch, you come onto my ship, you gon' eat ma food the way ah FUCKIN' MAKE IT! Do anybo'y got a prob'em wi' dat?!"

Luciana blinked and hurried around the corner, leading her sister. In front of her, facing down a trio of weaselly looking Avalonian pirates, was the most improbable man she'd ever seen. He was huge, dark of skin and standing easily a foot taller than her. He was lean but well-muscled, and his mahogany skin rippled in the dim lamplight. He was dressed in standard pirate garb, with gold hoops in his ears, a bandana tied over his head, and a jerkin, breeches, and knee boots.

He also had more kohl around his eyes than Luciana did. And his bandana was bright purple. With spangles.

Luciana stopped, open-mouthed, and one of the Avalonians said something she didn't catch. The man, who must be Monsieur Reynolds, went into action, lashing out with fists and elbows, and in the space of a bare second, he had savagely beat all three to the floor. He spat on the one who'd spoken last, then turned, seeing Luciana and Diana standing there.

His face split into a large, charming grin and he took a half-step backward. Then he executed a perfect, courtly bow and came up still smiling, his eyes twinkling. {Avalonian} "Evening, ladies. And what may I, your humble ser-vant, do for y'all this fine evening?"

Luci smiled. She couldn't help it. His drawl, his smile, the bow, the clothes...somehow it worked on him when it would look ridiculous on anyone else. Stifling a giggle, she asked, "Are you the illustrious Monsieur Reynolds?"

Reynolds dipped his head. "That I am, miss, that I am. And who might you and your lovely companion be?" He took Diana's hand and kissed it gently before Luciana could draw breath to stop him, but she didn't react, except, perhaps, with the ghost of a smile.

"I am Luciana DiCarmina. This is my sister, Diana. The captain said to bring her here, and that your noble self could take care of her for a bit while he and I discuss a few matters. She's had some...rough treatment at the hands of men today."

 

[Armphid]

Richter wondered for a few moments at Montaignes. This ship had been all but taken by the Inquisition save for the efforts of Simona, Luciana, and himself. The captain had fought too, and very well, but could he have destroyed all the boarders himself? Well. He was likely misjudging the man; any thanks that might come their way would be given in private. A captain, as he understood the role, had to be all-powerful and infallible to the crew.

At the captain's parting words, he inclined his head in an almost bow to the energetic Montaigne. He was an interesting man, one way or another.

Richter went below decks searching for Luciana and was almost overwhelmed by the heat that enveloped him as he descended. He had been on other ships before, mostly riverboats before he boarded the ship that brought him to the Straits of Blood, and felt this thermal shift before but not with such intensity. He paused for a moment and really looked at the ship he was in. The wood composing it, all of it from what he could see, was dark. And yet not black, he thought, but a deep, dark red that was as close to black as to count for naught.

It was...but, no. It couldn't be. No one would be mad enough to build a ship from that wood.

He found the stunningly gorgeous Vodacce woman and her silent as a ghost sister in a kitchen; an actual kitchen. Small, certainly, but there was food actually being prepared. Another surprise; to his knowledge, ship rations were all biscuits and salted meats prepared and stored for weeks and even months. Luciana was speaking to a man as tall as Richter himself, perhaps a bit more, with darker skin that the Eisen had ever seen before; wearing make-up and an outlandish purple bandana that glinted and gleamed in places.

The smells coming from the place were heavenly. Richter was suddenly hungry, the efforts and exertion earlier catching up with him.

Still, he rapped on the doorway before entering, inclining his head to the dark skinned giant and then bowing to Luciana and Diana. {Avalonian} "Forgive my intrusion, sir, but I am in the service of these ladies and would speak with them."

Richter straightened up and looked down at the haunting beauty of both women and was very aware of how he must look; soaked to the bone and battered by the sea but there was nothing to be done for it. "I regret having to leave your side, ladies, but I felt that the best way to safeguard you was to eliminate the Inquisition ship. This has been done, with the Castillian Simona's assistance."

He gestured up, "The captain is now sending out boats to salvage what he can, and is sure that there are more ships of the Inquisition about though none have made themselves known yet. He has asked for all those not of his crew to come to his cabin to discuss what to do next or to leave the ship before morning."

Richter had his own wishes in this, of course, but for now he was bound to Luciana's service and would consider their arrangement at an end only when she was satisfied of her sister's safety and that of her own. "What do you wish, Luciana?"

 

[Kinkerhell]

(Putting words in Walt's mouth for a little while)

Luciana looked Richter up and down and raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask why he appeared to be coated in a slowly-drying crust of salt, flour, blood, and sawdust. Instead, she inclined her head politely and said, "Thank you, Signor Richter. You have been invaluable in getting me here, and my sister and I owe you our lives. Perhaps after this meeting, I can make it up to you."

She stands gracefully. "Signor Reynolds will keep a watch over mi cara sorella while I attend our illustrious captain." She looks at Richter for a moment, her dark eyes large and sad, and quietly adds, "There is no need for you to stay any longer if you do not wish it. You have performed your part of the bargain beyond anything I could have asked. You will get what you are owed when the meeting is done. I...I am indebted to you in a manner I cannot truly repay, though, not with money or my body, though you may take all I have of those."

 

[HookerBoots]

Simona sighed and settled into a chair, one leg crossed over the other. {Castille) "Brandy, por favor." She folded her hands lightly on her lap, her eyes looking around the main room of the suite with interest. "And a meal would be grand - though it is your food and your money, Captain, so if you wish it, I would not gainsay it. It does ease conversations, you are correct, however."

This place, this man were strange. A lot of the pirates that came to Bilgewater were the precise opposite of the urbane, stylish man pouring her brandy. "I owe you a great deal, by the way, for getting me out of there. I . . . well, my skills make me very sought-after." She smiled a wry little smile, her eyes sad. "For any number of reasons."

 

[Armphid]

Richter closed his eyes and drew in a deep, long breath. The offer of all of Luciana's body that she had to offer was...appealing was as good a word for it as a trickle was to describe the rush of water from a broken dam. He wanted to boldly accept it, to claim exactly what she asked for. The deeds he had done, and his blood still singing from surviving the fights and the exploding ship urged him on as well.

But her eyes were sorrowful and her sister had suffered so. He did not doubt that her grief was genuine, yet it was cunning to use it all the same.

Richer opened his eyes and bowed again to her, "Luciana, I do not consider my task complete yet. I am still your sword, as we do not know the captain's intent and my mission is to see you and Diana secured. So, until we know, I am yours to command."

He straightened up and turned to offer her his arm, "Your...offer of recompense is...most alluring and we will discuss it at your leisure later." He would not pull her away from her sister, after this business was done, for anything so tawdry or plain as business dealings or...or what he so desired of her. It wouldn't be right; as much as he wished it were otherwise. "Come, I shall escort you to the captain and we shall hear his mind."

The giant and the courtesan made their way back through the ship and out onto the deck, drawing a few perplexed or startled looks from crewmen not absorbed in their tasks. They came to the door of the cabin and the Eisen rapped on the door twice and waited for a response. He tried to ignore how truly lovely the Vodacce beauty as his side was, or how the difference in their heights allowed him for a splendid view of her corset.

 

[SwordsOfTheDane]

Francois pulled out a bottle of the caramel colored liquor out of the cabinet and strode over to Simona, sitting himself down at the head of the table. He uncorked the bottle and poured a generous serving into an elaborately carved cup made of spruce. {Castille} "I'm sorry it is not crystal, but on a ship, such delicates are a hazard. Though I find that these do not despoil the taste." He uncorked his own bottle and poured himself a cup. He took a small sip and savored the sweet flavors. "Tres Bon." He arched an eyebrow, ruminating on Simona's words. "And what skills might I ask are those, short of the wondrous travail de feu."

At the knock at the door, Francois looked over "Ahhh, this will have to wait until later, though you are still welcome to stay here." He lightly stood up and glided over the to door. No, it would not have been Lafayette, he would have just come in. It must have been the giant and the Vodacce. He opened the door and saw that it was indeed the other two strays from Bilgewater. {Montaigne} "Please, Please, come in, We have much to discuss and some of Monsieur Reynolds wonderful cooking to accompany." He swept his arm low and wide in a general welcoming to the two.

 

[Armphid]

Richter inclined his head to their host, {Montaigne} "Thank you, Captain." He escorted Luciana inside. The cabin was large and well appointed if not ostentatiously so. More than he perhaps would have had in such a place in terms of decor and comforts but then the man was a Montaigne. "There is surely much to discuss and food sounds, and smells, heavenly at the moment."

He held a chair for Luciana at the table before she sat, smiling to Simona and offering her a bow. The Castillian woman looked...well, again he was confronted with the rarity of two such women here. It was remarkable beyond words. He also bowed now to the captain as well, "I have yet to introduce myself to you, monsieur." He straightened and despite his still wild looking appearance his eyes gleamed with strength and pride, "I am Richter Stroheim, and I thank you for your hospitality." Once Simona had sat, Richer took a chair himself.

Theus, it felt good to sit. It was all beginning to fade, the survival instinct and the thrill of battle and being alive, allowing the fatigue and ache of hardworked muscles to creep back into him. He felt ravenous; though he had the discipline not to look it.

It was likely proper to wait for the captain to start things off. However, Richter did not entirely want the man to call the order of things, even though this was his ship. "I do not know your usual manner, Captain, do you prefer business before meat or to take both at once?"

 

[SwordsOfTheDane]

Francois smiled at the large Eisen. {Montaigne} "Captain Francois Du Paix, of the Black Threnody. A pleasure. I would like to say first and foremost, thank you for your efforts against the Inquisition, both aboard and abroad." He took a few steps over to the table and sat back down. "We should begin our discussion now, Monsieur Reynolds will be here when his masterpiece is complete. Now, on to business." He sat up and there were a million subtle changes in the man to show that he was now a business man. "What may I ask would bring a pair of lovely Vodacce and their Eisen Swordsman to my ship? Were this a freighter or a even a sprint trader, passage would be but a matter of coin. Alas, As I'm sure you can tell, this is not. Though I am not without compassion, and given what has transpired, I feel that an arrangement can be arrived at." He cast Simona a brief inscrutable look. He had other business to discuss with her after. "I am curious to hear what you both have to say."

 

[Armphid]

Richter made a soft, scoffing sound. {Montaigne} "I would think our purpose was very clear, Captain. There was no telling when or if the Inquisition would be stopped or how many more ships might be coming on the tails of the one bombarding the town." He extended his hand back in the direction he thought shore lay, "I have been hired to see these ladies to safety, and in all this, the safest place would be on a ship away from the devastation and chaos of what was happening in town."

The Eisen glanced up at the beams of the cabin and then back down at the stylish Montaigne, "Your ship was the one most recently put in, which means it was the most ready to go; fewer crew had left and so on. Thus to remove them best from danger, the clear course was to come to this ship and determine passage for them. Perhaps in return for helping to retake your vessel, for instance."

"As to now, I must defer to Luciana. If she wishes to return to her home in Bilgewater, I will take her there. Should she wish to discuss other arrangements with you, I will see them completed to her satisfaction. My own business and wishes will wait until that is done. I am a man of my word, and I will see her to safety, as best as the circumstance she wishes to choose will allow."

 

[HookerBoots]

Simona sipped her brandy slowly, her dark green eyes studying the group in the small cabin. Very strange, very interesting. It was a very strange group, gathered here after a bloody battle. She turned her head as the knob on the door turned, and she stood. Standing in the doorway as she turned towards it was an extravagant man with black skin, pushing a sturdy cart filled with pots, bowls, and plates.

{Castille} "The inestimable Senor Reynolds, I presume." Then she realized he might not speak Castillian, until he grinned at her.

{Castille} "News spreads fast with someone so charming," he said with a well-mannered bow. "I am at that, and you must be one of our other guests."

She smiled and bowed as well. "I am. Simona de San Cristobal de Castille, at your service. How can I help you?" She gestured back at the others. "The captain and the other guests are discussing business, so please allow me to do something to feel useful."

"Of course, of course." He pointed to a pile of plates on the end of the cart. "If you would, cherie, please hand those around while I get the food set."

Nodding, Simona picked up the plates and walked back to the table. "Gentlemen and lady, if you don't mind, it seems our supper is here. Perhaps we should eat while it's hot, and then resume the business portion of the day."

 

[Kinkerhell]

Luciana nodded from the corner where she'd taken a seat. Now she sat sideways in a large armchair, her long legs hanging over one arm, her thighs half-hidden by her skirts. {Castillian} "I think we can afford to wait a few minutes, though I'm not particularly hungry."

She crossed her slender ankles and tossed her hair, brushing it over the arm of the chair against which her back rested. {Montaigne} "My dear Richter, I have no real need to return to Bilgewater. Its a miserable town full of miserable people, and I would be glad to put it behind me."

Luciana shrugged. "I think that an arrangement can be made with the captain here for safe passage to somewhere less intemperate. I have a fair bit of money stashed away, if the Captain is not averse to taking Vodacce coin, and I have some small skill as both a Jenny and a Sailor."

Turning back to Richter, she says, "I'll pay your passage, as part payment for saving the life of myself and my sister. At your earliest convenience, though, you may wish to go ashore and retrieve any belongings you left behind, before the inquisition realizes you've sunk their ship and sends more men."

 

[Armphid]

Privately, Richter agreed with Luciana. He preferred to get the business done with and out of the way so that he could move on to the next task. But this was the captain's table, not his own. He would make no statement of his preferences, not until he had a better gauge of the man.

Francois du Paix...what was he running from? He knew enough about Montaigne culture to know that "du Paix" was no one's real name. It was used to hide a true name or if one was exiled or lost. Which was he? A very interesting man.

He let Luciana's words draw his eyes back to her though. Her position on the chair was magnificent and cunning. Lounging between the arms, her legs over one showing a delicious amount of leg, it worked very well to enhance her already considerable appeal and cloud a man's mind with thoughts of other things.

Some small skill as a Jenny, indeed. He'd never met anyone more skilled with knowing how to display and use her appearance to her advantage. There was nothing about her small, save perhaps her stature and her waist. He could only hope that he had, even in a small way, genuinely endeared himself to her in all of this. Were she to choose to try and ensnare or break him, or lure him into danger, he'd have no chance of resisting her.

He wasn't even sure he'd want to try.

Richter inclined his head to her after she spoke, {Montaigne} "Once business is settled, I shall do just that. Assuming what few things are mine are not blown to flinders or already looted by survivors, there are things I would rather have on hand than leave behind."

The tall Eisen turned to the captain, "My intent, once Luciana is in the place of her choosing, was to approach you about the possibility of joining your crew." A pirate. What would his parents think of him now? "I have goals to reach that will require great resources and many men have down well from their share of prizes, if used wisely. I would like to see your charter and discuss the matter with you, though my duties must be discharged to Luciana first."

Though he was already sitting up straight, and had been since taking his seat, Richter squared his shoulders, "You have seen me fight, and know that I am capable of feats of arms and war beyond many men. I have never served on a ship of this kind, but I know something of sailing from the riverboats that would come to Freiburg and doing work on them before I was old enough to fight in the war. I can keep my feet, know my knots, and know their rigging well enough to be taught this."

"But there it is, that is my business with you, Captain du Paix. Though it may be a matter for another time, I will not do you the disservice of keeping my intentions unknown."

 

[SwordsOfTheDane]

Francois looked dead on at Richter, he face an emotionless mask, for a second. His mouth, at the corners started to curl. His eyes glinted slightly. When he could no longer contain it he let out a burst of laughter before just as quickly quieting. Once he was finished with his little outburst he kept a smile on his face, but this one was hungry, predatory, like a shark that had scented blood. Ah, this is his game apparently. {Montaigne} "Join you say? My merry crew? We simply must speak of this more later. Tomorrow, after you have seen to your effects?"

He smiled merrily as Lafayette dished each of them a large wooden ladle full of a thick steaming stew. The smell of beef broth, herbs and the distinct scent of dried mushrooms was thick in the steam. Francois wafted the stew and sighed happily. He lifted his own delicate silver spoon. "If none of you object, I feel we may continue this as we enjoy Monsieur Reynolds fine cooking." He gave Lafayette an appreciative smile as he dipped the spoon into the delicious looking concoction.

He looked over to Luciana and nodded. "As long as your Senators spend I can see no issue with taking them. We can arrange for passage to one of the more, friendly locales. I would prefer to go where our next haul might be found though." He looked sullen for a moment, it didn't suit him. "Do not worry about passage and tack for the little one; That look, no one should have." He perked up again. "All of you though, until the next port, what help you might be able to lend would certainly not be turned down. Though We managed to suffer no crew losses, extra hands make light work, no?"

He looked over to Simona and back to Luciana, "Since Monsieur Richter made his intentions clear, Where might you two ladies wish to go?"

 

[Kinkerhell]

{Montaigne} "Anywhere that isn't here or Vodacce." Luciana's voice was curiously savage as she spat out the name of her homeland. "I've, we've come too far to go back to that pestilent hell hole. Anywhere else would be a blessing and a mercy." She leaned back, holding the bowl of stew in her lap. It wasn't that she didn't want to sit at the table with them, but her current vantage point allowed her to watch everyone at once.

Lafayette spoke up. {Pidgin Avalonian/Montaigne} "Well, Ah know ah'm not exactly ea-ger," He made a half-amused, half-pained face as he said it, "to go back to Montaigne, but blowin' up that Castillian ship might win us a pass there. God knows da King ain't real friendly with the Castillians, what with Leon hiding there an' all." He laughed

Luciana nodded. "Possibly true, but I wouldn't wish to ask anything of my benefactors that they do not wish to do. Have you considered the Vendel League, captain? I'm certain they'd buy your salvage, what of it you don't use, and anything else you're carrying besides. Also, there are traders and couriers aplenty there, from Avalon, Eisen, Montaigne, even Ussura. You could test the waters of any number of ports by talking to the shipmasters there, and probably pick up work, especially if your ship is as fast as she looks."

 

[Armphid]

Theus, real food. And food of quality, by the scent, not the stone soup approach of Bilgewater taverns. He wanted to just shovel it in and ask for more but that would not do. He was here as a professional, after all.

Richter nodded at Captain du Paix, {Montaigne} "Tomorrow will do, Captain, thank you." He dipped his spoon into the hearty stew and raised it to his lips, taking a few moments just to breathe in the heavenly aroma. He thought he might actually be able to hear angels as he ate the first spoonful; the hot, rich broth a needed surge of heat in his ocean chilled body, and the meat and vegetables delicious and enriching in a way that he felt his strength somewhat restored even before swallowing.

He ate with steady devotion to it as he had learned as a soldier; not fast or sloppy but diligently and with focus. There was no telling when a meal like this might come his way again. But he listened as he ate.

He glanced over at Luciana as she finished speaking, "The Vendel League has many opportunities as does Avalon. I know not if it would appeal to you as a place to stay, Luciana, but they would certainly take goods from a Castillian ship. The Inquisition is also unwelcome there."

The big man shrugged, "If nothing else, it is likely work could be found there to take the ship to the Vendel League if that is the destination you choose to sail for."

 

[SwordsOfTheDane]

Francois smiled as the Vodacce suggested Montaigne. "No, I think my homeland would not be the best place. Avalon though, there I have not been in many moons." There was a curious gleam as he watched Richter eat, it spoke of a man of discipline. Useful. "Ah yes, Avalon, nations three in one," He lounged back as much as he could in the low seat. "Unless any object, I think it would do nicely."

When he swung back forward he looked deadly serious. "But as Herr Stroheim made mention of earlier, there are likely more ships out waiting for either a call for help or to come in to set up a garrison." He took another sip of his drink. "Once my men have returned I will confer with my officers on if we should attempt to streak past them or to fight. Herr Stroheim, I would appreciate your presence at such a meeting."

 

[Armphid]

The man turned moods and expressions in an eyeblink, or seemed to. Richter had already considered the captain a man of ability and dangerous but this unpredictability, be it guise or no, only increased that.

Richter finished the last of his meal before saying anything further. The captain's move with him was an interesting one. An assessment of his abilities, perhaps? It was too much to hope that the man had come to a decision about recruiting him now; despite the earlier heroics Richter was, as far as he knew, an untested or unreliable man.

He inclined his head to the Montaigne, "Then my presence you shall have, Captain." He almost smiled, the corners of his mouth twitching but not quite making the full motion needed. "Though it is hard to counsel on little knowledge of our foe, I will consider and make as best an advisement as I am able."

He would say what the man's officers said but he also knew what his heart wanted. Attack. Blast the Inquisition's men to flinders and take what they had to offer; stolen or begged from hard working people in one way or another as far as he was concerned. The Church's pockets could go a little light as some minor restitution for its atrocities.