Hawkes of the Sea: a pirate fantasy

[THEBRAT]

As I sit in my room I concentrate my Astrol image to my ship.You have all done very well but be very careful for it's not yet time to put our plans into action.

 

[Ticklish Girl]

Sister Therese

“What story read you there?” Captain Hawke says, gesturing to one of the stained glass windows.

I come closer to the window, taking pains to keep as far away from him as possible. I examine the figures for a moment, trying to make sense of them. Now that the daylight is stronger, the scenes are easier to distinguish. The hues of glass seem to shimmer within the small building. Multitudes of people, of all different skin colors, raising shackled hands to beseech a red-robed figure whose back is to them. I recognize the shade of red in that robe.

“He is of the Church,” I say, pointing at the figure. “A bishop, perhaps, or even a cardinal. And these folk are … prisoners of some kind.” I gesture at the masses of people. “They seek his help, but he hears not their pleas. Indeed, his posture suggests that he willfully ignores them.” I fall silent as the implications sink into my mind. Then I gasp and my heart begins to pound faster as I feel the first stirrings of anger.

I turn to glare at the Captain, my fear momentarily forgotten. “You would seek to judge the Holy Church, monsieur? You? La mère de Dieu! Never have I seen such arrogance in a man!” My entire body trembles with outrage.

I square my shoulders and force myself to look him directly in the eye. At the back of my mind a tiny, cowardly voice pipes up, telling me to be still. Telling me that he may draw his sword and end my life right here if I provoke him too much. I ignore the voice, however. This is my chance to stand up and defend the Church, with my life if need be.

“So tell me, monsieur,” I say. “What gives you the authority to judge the Holy Church?”

 

[wildxfire]

I gather her into my arms, the sensation of being reunited with my true love, almost overwhelming.

"We are near our freedom, mi amor" I murmur to her, covering her neck and cheek in kisses "In but a short time we will face our enemies, and secure our freedom"

I pull her closely to me, feeling her heat, the soft curves of her body, the sweet scent of her body.

The time for war was near, but stolen moments made the love much sweeter. "Let us take this time for ourselves, my sweet flower" I ask of her "To pledge our love and our faith to each other"

"After our loving, then we will discuss the ways of war"

 

[Azerin]

Mark

Not getting an answer from anyone, i stand by the door, waiting for the captain's return.

 

[sojournerwolf]

Jeremiah Hawke

Normally, I would find such self-righteousness worthy of laughter. Yet her sincerety is such I cannot find it in me to so much as smile.

I gesture to a pew beneath the window. "Please, sit. I would like to tell you a story."

Why are you bothering, Hawke, I ask myself, looking into her flashing eyes. Is it conscience which I have long ago foresworn? Or perhaps, the melancholy mood I oft find when I come here in the late hours of night or before dawn. I know not.
Mayhap another reason or reasons which I care not to examine closely at the moment.

"Some years back," I begin, "there was a young man of well to do family whom it was decided should do his duty by King and Country in naval service. There were other reasons than that," I wave airily, "but they are of little consequence.

"This young man found, despite his initial reluctance, a true love of the sea and, yea, even the discipline of the service.

"He was a rash young man, rather naive in many ways. In the folly of his youth, he tended to believe in such noble ideals as justice and law.

"His zeal led him to rise quickly in the ranks until he was second officer upon a man o' war stationed in foreign waters. Understand," I continue, "this was during one of those bouts of political expediency which the British government suffers from time to time. The current cause du jour was slavery.

"The ship whereon he served was assigned to patrol said waters in an effort to suppress the illegal slave trade, and piracy.

"The young man, as I said was rash and foolish and particularly took to heart the plight of those whom many felt were no more than savages, in need of the guiding hand of more advanced civilizations."

I pause and take a deep breath, for I can hear the heavy sarcasm in my voice

"For months, the tour continued and, aye, many a pirate was brought to justice. It puzzled the young man, though, that for some reason, despite the heavy illegal slave trade, never did they seem to find any of those ships.

"One early day, while he had the watch, the captain and first mate abed recovering from having enjoyed the fruits of previous labors in liberating a generous portion of claret from a pirate ship, a storm blew up. Knowing he should not disturb the captain nor the first mate in their delicate condition, he gave commands that took the ship some leagues south to avoid having to face the gale.

"Lo and behold, within hours, a ship was sighted, and sure enough, it was a slaver. The young man, pompous and full of himself, ordered pursuit but quite forgot to inform the senior officers.

"The ships were within hailing distance by the time the young second officer bethought himself to tell the captain.

"Ah, what a round of cursing did the young man endure, and many threats to his career and person. Yet, there was no help for it, but to signal the slave ship, a Spanish one at that, to stand to.

"Surprisingly enough, the slaver did so. Even more surprising, no boarding party was ordered, but rather the captain, the first mate and the young man, the second mate took a boat across with no more than a handful of sailors.

"Imagine the young man's surprise when the captain of the slave ship and the captain of his ship, a man of great military valor and honor, greeted each other as old friends. Wine was passed about and much banter of the sort such men share who sail the seas. This became a wee bit tempered when special guests upon the ship were introduced.

"These guests," I relate, "consisted of a special envoy of the Church and several priests who had been dispatched by Rome to the shores of the Dark Continent to investigate rumors of heresey among a small French colony there.

"Yes," I say to her questioning look. "They were members of Inquisition."

I grow thirsty with the tale and take from belt the flask of well watered wine I carry. Ere sipping myself, I offer it to the young nun, watching her face for reaction to my tale thus far.

 

[SexyChele]

Maria Elena

My arms entwine about my lover's neck, drawing him closer to me, feeling his lips on my neck. I lower my head and rub my cheek against his hair, secure in the feel of him, delighting in his scent.

"Sí, mi amor, nos permitió que fuéramos unidos una vez más en el amor."

As he lowers his lips to my heaving breasts, I arch my back and cry out. Could I ever get my fill of this man? May it never be so. I raise his lips to mine as I feel his hands begin to stroke my breasts. We are both aware of the urgency of both our love and of the time we are in.

"Mi amor, take me to the place where you would have me, for I need you now!"

As he pulls from me, he stares into my eyes....the eyes that cause my heart to beat faster until I think it will burst forth from me. He takes my hand as he leads me to the place where we shall once again know love.

 

[MtnAngelWV]

Amanda Lancaster

I steal through the night with a smile upon my lips. Memories of my love propel my body along the path. I cannot wait to be reunited with Antonio. He has taught me to love and be loved. As I grow nearer to our destination I encounter the sound of voices in the distance. I sneak behind trees as I inch my way closer to the voices.

Shock replaces the expression of joy as I see him. Antonio is kissing the young Spanish dancer and proclaiming his love for her, the love he had promised to me. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and shake my head, attempting to dispel the sights and sounds I have just witnessed. I reopen my eyes in hopes that the visions were only in my imagination. As my eyes readjust, I see that the images are still there. My head is spinning out of control as I turn on my heel and run as fast as I am able.

Running from yet another betrayal my thoughts swirl inside of my brain. I will never allow a man to hurt me again the way I have been hurt. Damn men and damn their promises. Promises of love and happiness are only illusions. Words spoken to garner my affection, trust and love. I shall not betray Antoio as I have been betrayed, but neither shall I depend on him to secure my freedom. My freedom will be insured by my actions and mine alone.

Tears stream down my face as I flee the scene with no particular destination in mind. Branches scratch ugly marks against my body and face but they do not deter me. My vision is blurred from my sorrow, making it impossible for me to see where I am heading. Suddenly I stop dead in my tracks as I run into a steel wall. I look up and see the man standing there, peering down into my eyes.

 

[Ticklish Girl]

Sister Therese

I listen to Hawke's tale, puzzled. I am not fooled by his references to a "young man" -- I know that he is speaking about himself. But what does his life story have to do with the heresy expressed in that stained glass window? I pay close attention, determined to understand this enigmatic man. And then he mentions the one word that is guaranteed to turn my blood to ice: Inquisition.

The Inquisition! The dread word pierces my very soul, and I cannot help shuddering. Hawke offers me his flask and without a thought I take it and raise it to my lips. The mix of water and wine is somewhat sour, but I manage to take a few small sips before handing it back to him with a brief murmur of thanks. As he tilts his head back and takes a long pull at the flask, I reflect on what I know about the Inquisition.

Thankfully, I have no firsthand knowledge of the Inquisition, and I pray that I never do. However, Sister Claudine and the older nuns have told me a number of chilling, graphic stories about the tortures employed by the Inquisitors. I find such stories very distressing and I have begged them not to tell me any more, but they always give the same answer. They say that they are doing this for my own good, because knowing the fate that awaits heretics will inspire me to keep my own feet upon the straight and narrow. And so they go on at length about the rack, the strappado, the thumbscrew, the hanging cage, and the wheel. Many times their stories give me nightmares. But the worst nightmares have been inspired by their tales of the auto-da-fé – public burning at the stake. At least once a week I bolt awake gasping with fear as the image brands itself onto my mind: a figure tied to a stake and shrieking in agony as the flames engulf its blackening body.

I shudder again and press my cold hands together tightly. “Did you run afoul of the Inquisitors, monsieur?” I ask. My voice is low, just above a whisper. The steel has gone out of me now.

 

[sojournerwolf]

Jeremiah Hawke

I set the flask between us and gather my thoughts before answering. I'm not surprised she realized who the young man of my story is; I have noted before the intelligence in her eyes. I am somewhat surprised, though, at how her face paled with the mention of the Inquisition. Most religuise I have spoken with seem to take something of a perverse pride in that arm of their Church.

"Aye," I say at last, then continue my story.

"As I said, I was young, foolish, naive, rash. Listening to these men, the slaver captain, the Churchman, my captain and the others, my confusion slowly turned to anger. Mayhap, too many cups of the slaver's wine exacerbated my mood. In those days, I had no head for drink.

"When the Spaniard put a bag of gold on the table in front of my captain, I rose and spoke harsh words, threatening words. I was outraged at the blatant corruption before me. My hand, ere I knew it was upon my sword...and then, there was a sudden pain in the back of my head and for a while, I knew nothing more.

"My first sight, upon waking, was the man o' war onwhich I lately served slipping out of view beyond the horizon. Over me, the captain and the churchman argued. Evidently, it was the captain's wish that I be cast overboard in the chains that bound me. The holy man insisted that since I was English, and therefore must be Anglican, ergo, I was a heretic and should be handed over to him and his fellows for appropriate disposal.

"Perhaps they were seeking to practice their skills ere landing, mayhap they were but bored. In any event, the captain reluctantly agreed and I found myself in the hands of the Inquisitor.

"What can I say of those nights and days which provide me with a intricate and intimate picture of hell. I was flayed until the skin of my back hung in ribbons. Other devices were used as well, though lack of space prevented them from utilizing their more cunning devices. And..."

I pause for a moment, my face burning at the memory of this humiliation.

"I was abused in...other ways. Ways I somehow doubt received the full sanction of the Church, though the Churchman was clear that any and all means for making heretics confess their heresey were indeed valid and even blessed.

"Eventually, we made port at that little French colony. The Churchman, ere departing, blessed the captain of the slave ship and bid him good hunting, a profitable voyage. It was then, I learned the ship was in part owned by none other than he.

"I was taken ashore. The bishop, I believe he was at the time, had decided that a public burning might help to put the colonists in a proper frame of mind. You can, I suppose, imagine who the main course was to be.

"For three days I was kept in a cell even more foul than the hold of the slaver ship. My only view upon the world was the settlement square where the stake was raised and brush gathered for my appointment with destiny.

"Upon the appointed day, they dragged me to the post and bound me there. The bishop had one of his minions read off a confession to heresey I had never made, though being gagged, I could not refute his testimony. They lay the faggots into the bursh and I smelled the smoke arising, felt its heat as it drew closer to my flesh.

"Fate, it seemed, had a very different idea of my disposal. It was then that an army of natives who had become angered at the depredations upon their villages chose to attack. The slaughter was great among them and the settlers, though the bishop and his pack of robed beasts somehow managed to flee the fray.

"Seeing me there, the chief realized that, despite the color of my skin, I too was a victim of these villians. He gave orders I be freed and taken back to their village."

Tears which I have not known for a long time are stinging my eyes. I take another draught of the watered wine and rise, moving restlessly about the chapel.

"They nursed me back to health without thought of reward, without thought of who I was other than I, too, was a victim. In time, I was able to even join in the day to day activities of their tribe, accepted, eventually adopted by their medicine man who felt I was somehow singled out by the gods for some great desitny.

"For a little over a year, I lived as one of them, learned their language and their ways, acquired respect for them and earned respect for myself. A gentle people, cultured in their own way, loving of their children, yet also proud and brave. Ay, I might have stayed with them the rest of my days. Yet, the shores of England tugged at me, home calling from across the waves. I knew I must return there, must seek out the traitorous captain and bring him before the Admiralty."

I laugh then, a low and bitter sound. "As I said, I was in some ways, still very naive."

"The villagers sent me forth with their blessing and I did promise to return. My return, however, was but a scarce day later when I noticed great plumes of black smoke arising from the direction of their village. By the time I arrived, there was naught to do but bury the dead the slavers had left behind. and make myself a vow that this would, somehow, someway not go unpunished.

"I managed to find my way to another port after that. My skills as a sailor earned me a berth on a Belgian trade ship headed toward Europe.

"By working my passage on various vessels, I once more landed in England. I made my way to my ancestral home where I was at first greeted with joy, then much trepidation as I told my tale.

"My former captain was now an admiral and his son betrothed to my sister. I was given the choice of being charged with desertion and hung, or agreeing with the story that had been put about that I had fallen overboard and was thought drowned."

"Only my beloved sister Elizabeth was as horrified and outraged at what had happened to me, and the sheer hypocrisy of the way it was handled. Together, we concocted a scheme whereby we could escape, perhaps make a new life for ourselves eslewhere than among civilized men."

I laugh with a bitter irony, then, thinking of the message I read of late, the one concerning Amanda Lancaster.

 

[BadForm]

Monique Papin: Swim, Little Fishes

I awake before the captain, and find I am still lying on top of him. His leg does not appear damaged, but the faint dawn light that managed to filter into this cavern illuminated almost less than moonlight. I doubt that his leg will be fully useable, even if he is uninjured. It certainly took a savage twist. I remember the dream of the fish swimming by me and know, with dread certainty, the only way I have any chance of escaping. I must swim through the underground river, and hope the carnivorous fish have feasted. If not, I am a dead woman. I also realise, the captain has no chance of making the swim, short though I know it is. I bow to kiss his forehead.

"Adieu. Monsieur, adieu." With that I draw a deep breath and leap into the rushing water.

I swim hard and fast, using the current to push me onwards. At first all seems well. I make it through over half of the water filled tunnel before I feel the first mouth. It tears at the flesh of my shoulder, making me tense, almost making me gasp and lose my air. Then another takes a bite from my thigh. Another bite at my side sends more white-hot lances of pain through me. I swim on despite each bite. I have no choice. The water ahead becomes lighter now, indicating the cave which lies ahead and from which the river flows. I push myself to the limit and pray. And then, my breast is targetted. The soft flesh rent in a bite from one tiny mouth. Near crazed with pain, I force mysef on. Then, the worst of all, a mouth claims my vulva. The miniscule teeth shred flesh which was never meant to be touched by ought but a gentle man. The air bursts from my lungs in a silent scream. My whole body spasms and, in my confusion I can barely stop myself gulping. With that, miraculously, the fish leave me unhindered. I feel their bodies beside me as I push myself through the last few yards.

Ahead, as the light grows brighter, I see what is, perhaps a worse problem. Some kind of shark, smaller but meaner than the ocean great fish, prowls the water. My blood has already started to flow past its sensitive nostrils. The beast turns towards me. I could not turn away now, and even if I could, that would leave me to drown. I see the white rows of teeth of the open mouth which approaches with death. And the fish fly ahead of me. They are tiny, but in number. The shark is immense, but merely one, alone. A dozen, two dozen small mouths clasp and rip at the beast's hide. Its dull brain fails to register the pain at first, and I have to drag myself up to the tunnel ceiling to avoid its charge. Then the panic starts. It thrashes, lunges. Several of the fish are devoured in one gulp as yet more dig deeper into the flesh, biting away an eye in their feeding frenzy. I do not pause to watch. I can not.

I tug myself ashore in the cave, gasping for the blessed relief of air. My blood hammers through my head, driving fresh agony on top of that of the attack. Now I understand. Oya demands a payment for her help. My flesh and blood saved my life. With that blessed, terror-filled thought, I collapse.

 

[Azerin]

Mark

Getting slightly bored, i decide to find Captain Hawke myself. The most obvious place that came to my mind would be his living chambers, thinking that he must be resting. Upon arriving, i greeted the guard, and knocked on the door. Hearing no answer, i slowly proceed into the room, finding it empty. Puzzled, i turn to the guard:

"Where's the captain?" i ask.
"I donno, but i heard that he was meeting a guest... maybe check in the main hall? Why dont you ask Lady Elizabeth in there?" He replies.
"Wha? She's not in there... no one's in there."
Upon hearing this, the guard rush into the chamber, to find it as i have described it - empty. Following him, i also run in, noticing that the young guard's face turning a deathly white.
"The... the lady, and another woman wa... was supposed to be in here..."

Realizing that somthing is not right here, i search around the room for any traces of evidence leading to the unthinkable. Arriving at the window, i notice a rope, skillfuly hidden away in the hordings of the wall, leading down to the ground. Turning back to the guard who was still dazed, i yell out at him.

"You! get some more men! Find the captain. Fast!!"

Running towards the chapel, the only other large structure on the island, hoping that he would be there. My wish was granted. As i dashed into the chapel, i see the captain conversing with a nun. Still panicing, and forgetting my manners, i call out to him.

"Jeremiah, i think we have a problem here. Your sister and the woman she was with has dissapeared."

 

[BadForm]

Monique Papin: Preparation for Rescue

As soon as my mind unfogs, I turn from the cave and begin to climb back towards the swamp and forest where we had fought. This land has the only thing I could use to rescue the captain: rope. Or rather, it has tough vines and creepers that I can knot into a makeshift rope which will, I have to hope, be strong enough. It takes me a good hour to gather enough to make a cord long enough to reach the cavern floor, and Oya alone knows how long to knot it together. Eventually, though, I am done. I tie one end around a sturdy tree and head for the watery plunge. From the driest side of the sinkhole, I lower the rope down, trying to avoid slipping as loss of blood began to catch up with me. I have to do this though. I must not fail

"Capitain!" I cry down into the depths. "Capitain, c'est moi. It's me, Monique. Are you there."

I wait for an answer.


OOC: Just edited for present tense.

 

[Ticklish Girl]

Captain Hawke’s story shocks me to the core of my being. It is a scene straight out of my worst nightmares. Even though he spares me a gory description of the torture, I am more than able to fill in the gaps, thanks to the “education” I received from the other nuns. As he speaks my mind supplies the awful details, and my hand flies to my mouth to stifle an involuntary cry of horror and disgust. And by the time he tells of the Inquisitors’ attempts to burn him alive, I am shaking all over. I can picture the scene all too well. I have dreamed it again and again.

I have no reason to doubt that Captain Hawke’s account is true. The remembered shame and pain in his eyes are enough to convince me. Perhaps he is afraid that his face reveals too much of what he is feeling, for suddenly he rises and begins to move about, still talking. Quite against my will I feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I should not feel sympathy for this terrible man, yet it rises unbidden within my heart.

Something else arises too: the certainty that he did not deserve to be beaten and tortured and burned alive. I recall the horror and disgust I felt when young James was flogged. How can I condemn his treatment on the one hand and on the other sanction the torture of the young captain? The answer is as simple and brutal as a slap across the face: I cannot!

There is silence, and I look at the man’s rigid back. My vision is blurry with unshed tears. Only half-aware of what I am doing, I rise unsteadily and cross the floor to where he is standing. I hesitate for a moment, then reach out and put my hand on his shoulder. His body tenses at my touch.

“Monsieur, I owe you an apology,” I whisper. “I spoke out of turn when I accused you of judging the Church. But I can see now that your judgment was warranted. What happened to you was horrible. No offense you could ever have committed can justify the treatment you received. The men who abused you were not godly men. The Lord never wanted his children to treat each other that way.”

I am crying openly now, unable to help myself. “Some part of me always believed that the Inquisition was a bedtime story used to frighten children into behaving themselves. I never met anyone who suffered its tortures, until now. But I am so sorry for what was done to you." My voice trails off into sobs as the tears scald my eyes. For the first time in my life I am ashamed of the habit I wear.

 

[MtnAngelWV]

Amanda Lancaster

The guard looking into my eyes is tall and quite muscular. My heart, still beating rapidly from my flight, increases threefold as I panick. I take a few deep breaths to try and calm myself down. I must think of a plan to retain this freedom for which I had paid the ultimate price -- my priceless virtue. It was the one thing I had left and now it is gone. Ripped from me by yet another betrayal.

"I...uh...I must see the Captain. I was on my way to him just now. He freed me from my station and ordered my presence, immediately," I inform the young guard.

"But he is in the chapel and wishes not to be disturbed," the guard says as he squints his eyes which tells me he is not believing my story.

"Yes, he has instructed me to meet him in the Chapel. Do you know who I am?"

"Everyone here knows of you!" he laughs.

"Then you must also know that I have sworn allegiance to the Hawkes," his puzzled look saying that he is skeptical but not all together distrusting. "Escort me to the Chapel and ask him yourself if you do not take my word for it!" Thankfully he takes my word and leaves me to fend for myself.

I find the Chapel and stand outside the door, summoning all of my strength to enter. I hear him speaking, telling such stories that I feel sorrow for his plight. I hear a female voice and as I continue listening I recognize it to be of one of the nuns. I presume it is the young sister. The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps cause me to retreat into the shadows. I hear a man I have never seen before informing the captain of his sister's disappearance.

As I witness Jeremiah's face distort into a myriad of emotions, I am once again touched by this complex man. Even though I have vowed not to betray the very man who deceived me so, I feel the need to help this distraught man. In a daze, I walk slowly into the chapel.

 

[Inkubus]

Carlos de la Vega

I am awkakened sevral times in the night by her fitful sleep. I wonder what frightful things she sees is it her past or perhaps she has the sight and divines the future. I reset my shoulder and and check the banadge on my leg. it would seem she is a talented healer too. I sigh as I have no idea what the future will bring. I fade back into blackness only to be startled out of my dreams by a voice...it is Monique..."Oui ma chere...je suit..." I stumble back "non...cest tre bien"

 

[BadForm]

Monique Papin: The Last She Saw

He is alive, awake, and well enough to answer. I feel my heart leap with joy and relief, though I am not in the least convinced by his reassurances that he is well. This is a feeling I have had for no man ever. This, I believe, is what they call love. "Mon chere, the rope! Tie it to your waist! I will pull you!"

He shouts something up to me about being able to climb, but I know it is chivalric nonsense. He was injured, and even though I set his leg, he should not put too much weight on it yet. Besides, I am not sure how long I have before the blood loss claims me.

"Non! Obéissez-moi! Maintenant!" I call down, trying to make it obvious how urgent this is, without bullying him. However, I know I'm not thinking quite as clearly now.

A few seconds later he tells me it is attached and I begin to pull. As I tug hard on the makeshift rope, I feel the wounds in my shoulder and leg pulse blood. How long I can push my body like this, I cannot be sure. It has to be long enough. I stare through a growing red haze as each knot pulls over the edge of the sink hole. More than once, I think the vines will rip, but I am wrong. I have built a good rope and it survives. Eventually, with my head spinning I see his arm grasp the dirt near the cavernous pit. His head slowly appears as he begins to haul his own body upwards.

Swaying more than ever, I smile. "Mon ch-chere..."

I stagger forwards, try to hold myself up, and fall. Lying, face down in the dirt, air rasping into my lungs, I am unaware of what is happening around me.

 

[sojournerwolf]

Jeremiah Hawke

OOC: I'm going to back up a bit and add a couple more things to the conversation with Sister Therese, then plug back in with where Mark and Amanda show up.

IC:
"Pardon me if I laugh for a moment, as a thought occured to me. This selfsame Richard who was to have married my sister evidently found himself another victim, one of our current guests, the Lady Amanda Lancaster. I but recently read a missive from him, one that must have arrived while I was at sea. The man had the gall to suggest a plot whereby she not be returned that he might advance his personal fortune."

I find myself glad Elizabeth had decided not to allow me to have sport with Amanda Lancaster ere I had read the letter. To know she has fallen into the schemes of such a one as this Richard, for some reason I examine not too closely at the moment, causes me anger. I have been mulling over in my mind that, rather than ransom the lady or take part in such a plot, how I might assist her in gaining justice in this matter, as well as being able to strike another blow at my enemy through his son.

"Aye, I know in much I am a cad, Sister. I have done things, evil things that will no doubt have me a guest of the devil in my time.

"But, you may have noticed there are no slaves upon this island. Those we rescue are allowed to join us, or if it is their wish, be returned to their homes, with funds from my personal treasury to help them rebuild their lives.

"And the children we rescue, are brought up here, on this island, educated beyond what they might ever hope to be, provided for by several men and women who have elected to stay and take on that responsibility. These children also are provided for, given their choice of staying or going as they wish when they grow up.

"You may think this all merely revenge, but it is far, far more. As the legend of the Hawkes grows, others see what we have done, see how the great and powerful are not invulnerable. The story spreads, the unrest in those lands subject to the depredations of slavers as well. And," I add, "we now likewise supply them with arms, with members of my crews to train them, to help them learn to fight back against those who see them as no more than animals."

"We may not birth a new world overnight and, verily, will no doubt ever be cast as villians. Yet, I tell you this. One day, men and women of all races, and their children, will indeed be free and equal, without being enslaved by those who think themselves superior, be they called noble or holy."

OOC: With my next post, I am going to pick back up with Sister Therese's reaction and Mark coming in.

 

[sojournerwolf]

Jeremiah Hawke

OOC: Now, back to the story where it left off previously.

IC: I feel the sisters touch on my shoulder and force my face into some mask to cover the emotions that seethe within me from memory. Turning, I see tears in her eyes, a flush of shame upon her face. It is not within me to toy with this young woman as i had previously planned. Perhaps, with time, the enormity of my experiences is resting more and more heavily upon me. Perhaps it is making me weaker, or even just different. I know not.

"Sister, I know you think me a cruel man," I say softly, my hand resting lightly upon her shoulder. "And in many ways, I am. Sometimes, perhaps, moreso than I should be. For truly, to have power is to drink from a concoction that can make the most resilient drunk. Yet, I also know this is a war I fight. And their are enemies all about. That young man you saw us kill earlier, he was not punished for merely being a thief. He was, as I personally knew, a spy for the British. I will not be thwarted in my plans...by anyone."

There is more I feel i should say to her, that her faith does her justice though she might consider where she wishes to place that faith, when the door bursts open.

I turn, annoyed, to see Mark there, his chest heaving, his face fluchsed with exertion. He is not given to fits of panic, my excellent navigator, not he who can face the very wrath of Nature while speaking calmly of his hobbies.

"What--" I begin, but stop as he blurts out his news. My blood runs cold within me as he supplies details, for his eye is sharp.

I force myself not to panic, not to give in to the absolute fear that has gripped my heart. Such will not serve Elizabeth, if indeed something untoward has happened nor provide the strength and leadership our people will need to face this crises.

"Mark," I order at last, far calmer than I feel, "gather my officers now. You, Black Bart, Clarissa, Monique, the others. Have them meet me at the Great Hall. Do this yourself and with only those men you trust."

I turn back to the nun. "Sister Therese, I must apologize for this untimely interruption, but there is business to attend which brooks no delay.

"For your own safety, I would advise you return to your quarters." I see one of my guards and gesture him forward. "Or, if you wish a moment here to pray, to think on these things I have told you, that you may also do ere returning to them."

I am puzzlied by my actions in this regard, yet give it no more mind. To the guard, I give orders the young woman is to be accompanied at all times by him and him alone, and that she be protected. There is something I sense about her that as yet, I know not, yet feel she may well be important to the outcome of this situation.

It is then I note Amanda Lancaster standing just inside the chapel. I raise my eyebrow at her, but have no time to pause.

Instead, I walk up to her, take her hand and kiss it in my most courtly fashion.

"Lady Lancaster, lovely to see you again. I fear there are matters requiring my attention at the moment, yet if you would care to accompany me back to the Great Hall, I would be happy to hear what you have to say."

With a glance back at the young nun, I take Amanda's elbow in my hand and snap my fingers to Heracles my half wolf, half hound who follows. Walking with unhurried step as if about important, yet uncritical business, I walk with them both back to the Great Hall.

Inside, though, rage and fear war with each other. I swear if any harm has come to Elizabeth, I will hunt those responsible through the very bowels of Hell itself and bathe in their blood.

Calm, I remind myself, knowing those around me, and even Elizabeth's fate may well rest in how level headed and cool approach I take now.

I look at Amanda and smile as genially as possible. "And what did you wish to speak with me about, Lady Lancaster?"

 

[sojournerwolf]

OOC: Black Bart, Clarissa, Monique, Mark, Magician, Black Raven, and everyone else

OOC: Hi, all...I ask your indulgence for this post appearing here rather than the OOC Hawke's thread. It touches directly upon the story and I wanted to be sure everyone, not just those listed, had a chance to see it to provide grist for the mill of how your characters will act and react.

wildxfire aka Magician I noted earlier you had sent a message to Hawke, could you supply the contents of the note as you want it to read? He is headed back to the Great Hall to meet with his officers and will read it there.

Black Bart and Clarrissa, Hawke is sending Mark with an urgent request you appear at the Great Hall to discuss what is happening on the island and the very immediate situation with Elizabeth...just wanted you to know in the midst of the posts that are coming in...isn't it great!

Monique I've been following your adventures with Carlos with great interest. Hawke is sending messengers to find you for a meeting at the Great Hall. how do you want to play this, shall they find you, bind your wounds and bring you, or have you another idea?

Mark Reading my previous post, was not sure if you understood your character is considered one of the "inner circle" as well and is included among the other officers that Hawke wishes to meet with.

Black Raven aka Inez Hawke will more than likely be sending for you after the officers are gathered.

Thanks for listening.

 

[MtnAngelWV]

Amanda Lancaster

I want so badly to scream at the top of my lungs that I know where Elizabeth has been taken. Nay, I cannot. My initial reaction to all that has unfolded before me was to swear vengance against all that had wronged me. My mother's words spring to mind, "If thou plans revenge against others, sweet child, you must dig two graves. One for thyself and one for thy enemy."

I had not want for anyone to be harmed, for I had only desired my own freedom. I thinkst myself similiar to Jeremiah. We put on a great face for others but when you delve into the soul we have much love inside.

My thoughts are like a tidal wave, destroying everything in its wake. I made certain promises to Antonio earlier and, although he did not honor his vow, I wish to stand by mine. Antonio taught my body the art of love making and my soul that of love. While he destroyed my vision of him, I will always be thankful for that. And too, if I do decide to betray Antonio, what assurance do I have that Jeremiah will not betray me as Antonio and Richard hasve.

And yet, Jeremiah's kindness towards me places me in a great predicament. I long to comfort him but it is not the time. He stares at me and I know that he is awaiting my reply to his question. "Now is naught the time to discuss what I desire, Captain. At this exact moment I want nothing more than to aid you in finding your sister -- to insure her safe return to you." The emotions whirling around is just more than I can bear and by the time we reach the Great Hall tears are streaming down my face.

 

[sojournerwolf]

Jeremiah Hawke

I see struggle in the Lady Amanda's face. Aye, indeed she has been much put upon by her fiance and myself and I wot not who else. I wince a bit thinking how I had at one time thought to have sport with her, humiliate her as part of my war on the nobility that I so despise. This was, in truth, before I read the message sent by her betrothed, the one evidently intended to reach me before her capture.

It occurs to me that she might indeed need reassurance that she is in no danger from Elizabeth and I. Even as my mind has been working on the current crises, and my emotions running high, I've not forgot the letter concerning Amanda.

She is a lovely lass, indeed, one of spirit as well. I find myself begrudgingly coming to admire her for enduring what she has.

Then, her words to me about helping me find my sister...ah, do the gods themselves betimes arise from their lazy couches to point a languid hand. And what is life, if not risk. Then and there, I decide, whether she can help or not, her sincerety alone makes her worthy of respect and consideration.

I take a deep breath. "M'lady, I thank you for your kind offer. And indeed will take it under consideration. I have had news of late that I feel you should be made aware of. A letter that was no doubt intended to arrive prior to our last foray at sea, but which I did not know of until after you had been escorted to your quarters."

From my pouch where I keep correspondence I wish to read and ponder, I take the letter from Richard.

"I know, Lady Amanda, you have been victim of much trickery while in our hands. And I doubt not, you could see this as no more than yet another way in which you might be further humiliated, if this be a hoax.

"Yet, perhaps, you might recognize the handwriting of this letter. And if it is indeed from the one whom it purports as the author, then there is more you should know of the writer and, if he be your enemy, he is ours as well. If it is not, I ask you tell me that as well, and I will gladly dispose of it. In either event, Elizabeth's earlier wishes stand. You shall not be harmed deliberately by any of my crew or by my sister or myself."

I put my hand on hers as she reaches for the letter and look in her eyes. "I must warn you, the tidings of this missive may come as something of a shock to you."

I've no desire to add to her tears, yet, mayhap 'tis best this way, that she know there is at least some safety for her from some quarter, for in truth, I do believe safety and security for us all will soon be in short supply.

 

[Azerin]

Mark

Hearing the captain's orders, i quickly scramble to Clarrissa's cabin, to tell Black Bart and her to meet in the main hall immediatly. Not being to fine Monique, i order a few of my most trusted guards to form pairs, and to seek her out.

 

[Inkubus]

Captain Carlos de la Vega

I pull myself along as fast as I can but she is so headstrong and giving. I am trying to lighten her burden but dios mio is she strong. I try to keep up when I hear an urgency in her voice. Suddenly my stomach grows cold and I climb in a mad panic to get to the top. I cant explain why I am so afraid of what I will see when I reach the top. I can not belive that any merciful god would allow me to meet someone like her only to take her away in the flash of a candle flame. As I reach The top I see that she is bleeding profusley and Im struck with the horror of losing her ... "Monique , porque ???Dios mio por favor no lo dejes murir. Rego que me ayudas, " I tremble as I cradle her. I tear whats left of my stolen garments to make makeshift bindings. but I have no true knowledge of healing and I would never be able to keep her alive alone. My mouth goes dry as I come to the only conclusion possible to save her. I must get her back to her pirate friends, I must also do this without being captured because some fool may try to take me without realizing the direness of her situation. I sigh as I Cradle her in my arms "Querida, perdona me, te doy mi promesa, vas a vivir, o yo me meuro ..."

 

[Clarrissa]

Clarrissa & Black Bart

The simple act of removing my shift sets my skin to tingling. The feel of your large thumbs upon the small straps, again makes me marvel at the underlying gentleness you posess. Raising my arms in mock submission streanthens my resolve to fully love you
The playful toss of my gown thrills me. The ability to laugh and love was one I thought I had lost so many years ago, now just being rekindled in your arms again.

Hearing your playful banter but grasping it underlying meaning I tease you back " a slow heated death. . " one I wish to go on forever.

As I move over you and straddle your hips the playfulness leaves me, the passion returns. The tip of you pressed so close to my heat causes my body to respond in turn. I feel the flood of my arousal coat my thighs as I hover over you. The pleasure you bring with your hands upon my breast sets my body to shaking. I can take no more and need to be full of you again.

Our eyes meet now locked in a heated gaze, your soft husky words arouse me more than your body ever could. You have come to understand your feelings and placed your heart into my safe keeping,

Watching you now I lower myself unto your engorged member, the heat of you filling me completely.
"My love, you have surrendered yourself unto my safe keeping, but what you did not know is you had always held my heart, since I was a young girl I have loved you and I always shall."

Watching your face as I move against you the pleasure causing my body to arch into you, the emotions flit accross my face, no longer guarded you can see the love I feel for you.

 

[Ticklish Girl]

Sister Therese

Things have happened with bewildering speed. I can tell from Captain Hawke’s worried expression that this “business” of which he spoke is urgent indeed. Quickly the chapel empties, save for the guard and myself. I recognize him as one of the two hulking men who brought me here. He is, in fact, the one who told me, “We can do this easy or we can do this hard,” implying that he would drag me down to the chapel if I wouldn’t go willingly. I eye him with some distrust.

“Are ye ready, Sister?” he says. His tone of voice is very different now – it was cold and disinterested before, but now he seems almost deferential.

“Yes, I am ready,” I reply. I pause to take one last look around the chapel. My eyes linger on the stained glass window for a moment, committing it to memory, and then I walk out of the building. The guard is right on my heels.

He doesn’t hold my arm as he accompanies me back to my quarters. Instead, he walks by my side, one hand on the wicked-looking dirk in his belt, eyes constantly scanning the area. He is easily twice my weight and a foot taller than I am, perhaps more. “The Cap’n wants ye protected, then by God ye’ll be protected,” he says. Then he clears his throat and looks down at me, almost shyly. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Sister. I meant no offense.”

I smile up at him, the first real smile I have been able to give in quite some time. “None was taken, monsieur.” He nods and looks relieved.

We return to the tiny hut a few moments later, and he sees me into the building. “Ye will be safe here,” he tells me. “Anyone who wants to get through this door, has got to go through me first.”

“I would pity the man or beast who tried to do that,” I say. He laughs and nods his head vigorously, then shuts and bolts the door.

I sit down on the bed and think about what happened at the chapel. Things have changed in such a short period of time, and I hardly know what to make of them. Captain Hawke’s tale has given me a glimpse of a world that is uglier and much more complex than I ever dreamed. I can feel that this new knowledge has changed me, but in what way?

Whatever has changed about me, Captain Hawke has seen it too. His orders to the guard indicated that I have a new status, and that I am no longer a prisoner. Just what I am now, remains to be seen.