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The night was brisk with a sea breeze and a dampness that drove many occupants of the island to the heady warmth of the many taverns. You stroll about the main hub of the town and drink in the visuals that lay so garishly around you. The many shambling buildings in various states of disrepair, windows, long since broken, boarded up with oars and bits of wood that seemingly came from the neighboring abodes. Yet, for such a run-down looking place, it is alive with movement. Pleasure seekers, pleasure givers, business, conversation, dancing, secrets and more are swirling all around as you ogle Tortuga and its people. You ponder the best place to find a trustworthy crew to garrison the newly acquired sloop and quickly laugh at the idea of a ‘trustworthy crew’ that can be bought. As you round a corner, a few promising places shift into view: there is a tavern that has the name of ‘Rogue’s Brand’ that is full to brimming with patrons, a gang on men about an upturned barrel playing games of chance, a grim looking entourage of men milling about in front of an administration building, and a gaggle of men surrounding the street’s brothel.

>Rogue’s Brand Tavern
>Dice playing men
>Grim enforcers
>Brothel inhabitants.

>>32420980
>Rogue’s Brand Tavern
Drunks are always the best decision makers

>>32420966
Hey Bootstraps, long time lurker of this quest here. I never really actually contribute to your quests (or any others), so sorry for that, but know that you do some great stuff! Thanks for running Rum & Booty Quest

>>32420980
>Rogue’s Brand Tavern

Good to have you Back Bootstraps.

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You eye the potential crewmembers with a tap on your chin as you wheel in towards the tavern. The tavern is always where the best men come from. You enter the dimly lit establishment as the wave of raucous laughter and shouting accosts your ears. The merriment of a packed tavern is always warming to the cockles of a pirate’s heart. You make your way towards the tavern keeper by shuffling past dancing couples and tables filled with men drinking heartily. With a tip of your hat, you acknowledge the Tavern Keeper and he nods back knowingly. With a spin, you lean onto the long bar, elbows supporting your weight as you scan about the premises. There are numerous groups that seem to have congregated within the tavern, and any of them look like good fits to your crew. A group men bearing red arm bands sit near the bar, cheering and singing loudly along with the small band on the tiny stage. Another similarly sized group of men stand near the clearing of the dance floor trying to court some of the server wenches and lady patrons. A third group, larger than the previous two, occupies much of the sitting space at the front of the tavern; their merriment much more sober and calm than the previous two.

>Red arm bands
>Dance floor lads
>Large group

>>32421399
>Dance floor lads

>>32421399
>Dance floor lads

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You spy the group of men with coy smiles across the dance floor and push off of the bar.

“Greetings, lads.” You say, touching the brim of your hat.

They turn to face you from their quarries and some look quizzical at your approach. The ladies they are chatting up also turn to face you.

“Excuse us, ladies, but I must talk to these men on some business in private. My apologies.” You exclaim, a garish boy accompanying the phrase. The men appear annoyed at the fact you just shooed away the women, but now stand in front of you with folded arms and mild scowls.

“What’yer want from us, eh?” one speaks.

“I have a proposition, lads. I’m lookin’ for some good men to add to me crew this fine night.” You retort.


“Aye? Keep talkin’, ye have our interest.” Is the response you receive.

“Well, my dear new friends, I have a ship that is in need of a stout crew, and a haven to keep it safe. Ye’d be working under a man of mine.” You explain. “Short’s to say, I need me some good men to crew a sloop. Can ye offer me such a thing?”

The group of men mull over the proposition, talking amongst themselves and parleying with each other. Soon, they rise from their huddle and one man makes forward with his answer.

“Aye. We’ll crew yer ship… on one condition.”

“Oh, and what’d that be, lads?” you answer.

“We go to the brothel tonight, and you’re buyin’! Harharharhar!”

>Accept the men, give them a bag of coin to pay for the brothel trip
>Refuse, try a different group
>Accept the men, accompany them to the brothel.

>>32421802
>Accept the men, give them a bag of coin to pay for the brothel trip

The men will have their fun.

“Ye drive a hard bargain lads, but aye, I’ll accept.” You answer.

“Yeah!” The men shout, laughing and slapping each other on the back.

You hold a pouch of Pound Sterling and divvy out the coin the men liberally. After the men have gotten their coin they begin to leave the tavern as one turns and says “Are ye comin’ Cap’n?”

“No no, not I. Go and have your fun lads, be at the piers by mornin’.” You reply.

With a shrug the men depart straight for the brothel across the way. You slump your hands into your pockets and laugh quietly to yourself, shaking your head as you make your way to the door. You reach for the door handle as a demure and husky voice comes from behind you.

“Excuse me sir, may I ask for a parlay?”

You lower your hand and turn slowly to the voice behind you. At first, you don’t see where the voice came from, but a figure leaning back on a chair next to a rough wooden pillar. You raise an eyebrow as you ponder what to do with the proposition.

>Respond, having conversation from where you stand
>Ignore the person at the table and leave the Tavern
>Approach the table and sit down

>>32422109
>>Approach the table and sit down

>>32422109
>Approach the table and sit down

You raise a brow as you venture back into the depths of the tavern toward the figure. Sliding the chair out from the small table, you sit across the person who called your name.

“Aye, a parlay you are havin’. What can I do fer ye?” you ask quizzically, leaning forward slightly.

A thump of the wooden legs hitting the floor rings out as the figure falls back into the light. You are now staring into the face of a rough looking blonde lass. Dressed in a heavily worn set of attire, she is a scraggily gal to say the least.

“I heard you might be hiring deck hands, Cap’n.” She asks, waving two fingers at the barkeep.

“Aye, I may. What’s it to you, lassy?” You ask back.

“Well. I’d be thinkin’ you’d need me, sir.” She responds.

“Ya think so, eh?” you retort as two mugs slip onto the table via the barkeep.

The woman wraps a scarred hand through the handle and raises it in a brief toast before she drains the tankard.

“Aye. I can hold me own on a ship, sir. I sail’d all round the east-indies afore I came ‘ere.” She argues.

“That so?” You quietly respond, skeptical, as you sip from the tankard.

“Regardless, yer drinkin’ me last bit o’ coin there.” She retorts, motioning at the mug in your hand. “I be needin’ the money, and ye can have me guarantee that ye’d get no buyer’s remorse…”

>Accept the woman into your crew
>Push for more details
>Refuse

>>32422486
>Push for more details
I'm not against it, but it sounds like there's a story behind her

>>32422486
>Push for more details

I would just hire her, but to me this is a "Would you like to know more?" moment.

“An why’s that, m’lass?” you query.

“I guess I should be getting’ te introducing meself, eh?” she laughs. “The name’s Catherine Skinner, sir” she finishes with tap of her forehead and a mock salute. She leans fully into the light now, and you see a woman, not terribly large, but certainly not dainty. You gaze upon her figure, while definitely feminine, is knicked, chipped, scarred, scratched and rough; she’s been around the ropes a few times. You look back at her hand around the mug and see various small scars and knicks that line her fingers and palms, as well as what you can tell are… teeth marks? Her right hand has a small ‘P’ branded onto each knuckle across her fist, one very reminiscent of your own.

“Go on…” you reply, egging her on to continue.

“Ahm, well, I’mma mercenary. Err, was a mercenary.” She corrects herself, a wink coming in your direction. “I used ta sail under the West India Trading company, fightin’ pirates since the Navy would’nae hire a woman. I killed me them indie pirates fer coin, but they let me go an branded me old cap’n a traitor, gave me on ‘o these.” She brandishes a finger etched with a ‘P’. If’n ya need a bodyguard, I’m yer lass. I betcha I could knock out a horse in one blow, I could.”

You sit across from the woman, who has crossed her arms, lifting her overcoat slightly to reveal four pistols in holsters across her stomach. She gives you a coy grin as a silver tooth flashes across her smile in the lantern light.

>Hire her immediately.
>Tell her to meet you at the pier tomorrow
>Refuse and thank her politely.

>>32422903
>>Hire her immediately.

>>32422903
>Hire her immediately.
Sure sounds like a fun girl

>>32422903
>>Hire her immediately.

“Right. I’m sure, lass, I’m sure.” You laugh.

You produce another pouch of coin and slide it across the table, to which she snaps up and weighs in her hand.

“Thankee kindly sir, you’ve gotten yerself no finer a stiff!” She responds cheerily, putting her feet up on the table. “First thing I’ll be doin’ is getting’ me a new pair o’ boots. These’ns heels are all worn out, and the toes are kicked about.” She drops her feet and stands up as you do, finishing with “An’ the soles are lookin’ out fer better weather!” and a hearty chuckle.

You feign a confused smile at your new… sort of musical bodyguard as you traipse backward into the night air outside the tavern. Once outside you realise how large the lass really is. She’s easily an inch or two taller than yourself, and you can see the head of a rather imposing deck-axe hanging from a belt loop on her hip. She continues down the street at your side, humming and singing quietly to herself as you make your way back to the pier as the sun slowly begins to rise.

“It’s all fer me grog, my jolly, jolly grog. All for me beer and tobacco… Well I spent all me tin on those laddies drinkin’ gin, and across the western ocean I must waaanderrr…”

You can’t stifle an amused laugh at the singing woman as you spy your few men you brought on land to gather men. A good crowd has gathered now, as well as your men from the tavern, a ‘lady of the night’ still attached to their group, giggling.

>Leave the crew back to Green Turtle Key
>Inspect the men
>Meet with your first mate and quartermaster
>Stay in Tortuga for the rest of the early morn/night

>>32423206
>Meet with your first mate and quartermaster

>>32423206
>Meet with your first mate and quartermaster

>>32423206
>Meet with your first mate and quartermaster
We got an amazon sailing with us men

>>32423206
>Meet with your first mate and quartermaster
glad to see you back, dude

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“Alright, me drunks and future drunks! All’s aboard the Abbey!” You shout, a raucous cheer your reply.

The new men began filtering into the longboats along the pier as they crossed in waves to the Freeman’s Abbey. Your first-mate and quartermaster slide up to you as they finish bribing the wharf master for the time spent in the docks.

“Ahoy there cap’n… err, you be getting’ some new company?” your quartermaster asks. Your first-mate is brandishing a likewise face of worry and evasiveness.

“Eh? … Oh! Yes. Lads, this is Catherine Skinner, a self-proclaimed stiff. She’s quite the lass, ain’t she?” You respond, gesturing at Catherine. Both men give an unsure greeting as she plants her weather-beaten hands on each of their shoulders.

“Aye, nice ta meet ye lads. I’ll be lookin’ forward te gettin’ te know all of ye!” she happily quips.

Both men share a wary glance as they peer at you, who is nothing but all smiles.

“She’ll be accompanying me on all our business, yeah? Never know if you cause too many waves and people be getting’ sour.” You affirm.

Both men just sort of shrug and agree to the statement. All in all, you’ve gained 56 new men, more than enough to gain the replacements for your own crew, and enough to modestly crew the sloop. You begin to board the last longboat as you see Catherine lingering for a moment before hopping the boat with a loud thump and the water’s edge rising slightly. Confused, you let it go as you begin sliding out of the pier and towards your anchored ship, Catherine narrowing her eyes at a lanky mare hauling a cart to the peer. You make a worried face, wondering if you made the right choice in hiring her, but laugh it off.

>Rest the men and yourself aboard the Abbey
>Get a skeleton crew to get us sailing to Green Turtle Key

(Brief break for me to eat. )

>>32423581
>Get a skeleton crew to get us sailing to Green Turtle Key
that can be a test "flight", i guess
and our wife must be worried

>>32423581
>>Get a skeleton crew to get us sailing to Green Turtle Key

>>32423581
>Get a skeleton crew to get us sailing to Green Turtle Key

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(Thanks for waiting.)

The new members of your crew jump up to varying degrees of speed and take their places around the ship as your usual crew step down and advise the new recruits to their positions. You retire to your cabin as the Abbey glides smoothly out of Hispaniola territory and into uncontested waters. The sea is calm for the ride as you drift to sleep in a chair in your cabin. You grate awake fatefully as your body protests, but your mind wakes you up out of interest to a disturbance in the cabin. You spy a figure leaning against the wall next to the door into your cabin. You move a hand into your coat to pull out your pistol as a voice calls out.

“Save it, Cap’n. You’ll nary a chance anyway.”

You remove your hand as you recognize the whisky coarse and husky tone of Catherine from across the room. For a large gal, she sure can move quietly, you figure.

“I said I’d be keepin’ an eye on ye Cap’n Abbot, that means all hours.” She retorts, sitting a leg up on the desk in front of you.

“Well, when do you sleep then?” You ask.

“A spot here or there, as long as I’d know yer safe.” She answers. She kicks a foot out rhythmically to the rocking of the ship as the sun begins to filter into the window gallery behind you, new boots adorning her feet, like she said. You stare up at her happy smile, her wavy blonde mane pulled into a loose braid with her bangs tucked behind her ears. Striped leggings adorn her large legs, as well a tight corset and demure white shirt under a raggedy red overcoat that may at one time been an English uniform.

“Don’t let me keep ye from catchin’ yer beauty sleep Cap’n.” she soon says to break the silence of your prying eyes. Standing up and slowly turning, returning to her spot next to the door.

>Fall back asleep till we arrive
>Stay awake, we’ll be home in 4 hours anyway
>Plot a new course home

>>32424265
>>Fall back asleep till we arrive

>>32424265
>Stay awake, we’ll be home in 4 hours anyway

>>32424265
>Fall back asleep until we arrive.
Go to sleep

>>32424265
>>Fall back asleep till we arrive

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You try to realign yourself in the chair to find comfort enough to sleep once again. Knowing that someone is watching over you proves finding sleep difficult, but you think of home and sleep manages to squeeze through Catherine’s watchful gaze. What seems like a mere blink is the 4 hours left in the voyage, slinking past the Heneago, Yumeta and St. Salvador’s islands with no disturbances. Upon waking, you find Catherine still leaning against the wall like a statue, and you make a little nod to acknowledge her. A prolonged blink in return is your answer as you stand up and stretch. You remember why beds are necessary as sleeping in a chair has stiffened your back and to top it off, the wound on your side is acting up, sending pangs of mild pain every time you take a step upon the ship. You open the door to your cabin and proceed to the deck, gazing out at your beloved little cove, your slice of freedom.

The Abbey anchors well and deep within the lagoon, next to the injured sloop. As the men begin to part ways into the longboats and row ashore, you spy a familiar trio on the beach. Eager to return, you hop on the next longboat, nabbing the last spot. As the boat drops into the water, a figure leaps over the railing and into the longboat, landing with a hollow thud and a dangerous rocking of the small boat.

“Dunn’ae do that, Cap’n.” Catherine scolds.

“You don’t need to guard me so closely here, Catherine. This is me and my men’s home, we own everything here and are masters of our own domain.”

She ponders at you, and her happy smiles returns. She peers down at the poor sod who she is now treading upon and jumps back to the rope ladder on the ship, climbing back aboard.

“I’ll wait fer tha next one, hehe.” She exclaims, waving as you depart.

“What an odd lass.” One of your crewmembers scoffs aloud.

“Aye.” You agree.

>Go talk to Alesa
>Go talk to Mary
>Go talk to the trio
>Tavern!
>Builders!
>Sloop matters

>>32424808
>Go talk to Mary

>>32424808
>Go talk to Mary

>>32424808
>>Go talk to Mary

You leap aboard the pier as it nears, wincing as your wound reminds you that you won’t be doing any rope-swinging in the future. Men begin to filter onto the pier as your Quartermaster and First-mate usher the new recruits onto dry land and show them around. You see the trio break as a figure skips across the small gap between the walkway and the beach and come jogging to your open arms. Mary leaps into your embrace as you close your arms around her, hugging her tightly. She pulls her head back and plants a sweet kiss upon your lips as you part with her, hands on her hips.

“Welcome back, love.” She quips.

“Aye, good to see you, Mary.” You respond. “Anything happen while I was gone?”

“Nae, not in a matter of fact…” she responds half-heartedly, eyes darting away from your gaze.

“Eh? How’s that, my dear?” You question, your hands slipping over hers.

“There were some men who came here, and then left right away, on the opposite of the island. They climbed through the jungle o’er the town and have been in the tavern ever since. I didn’t want to cause trouble while ye were gone, James. O’ffor I’d have kicked ‘em out right good ages ago.” She answers.

You smile and kiss her forehead, saying “A smart and pretty lass? Surely I am a lucky man!”

You get a punch in the arm as you walk with her towards the tavern, where the men sit, quietly, eying the rest of the growing crowd.

>Approach the men
>Wait till later to approach the men, talk with the Bonnets
>Get Catherine to question them
>Kick them off the island, no questions asked

>>32425224
>>Wait till later to approach the men, talk with the Bonnets

>>32425224
>Wait till later to approach the men, talk with the Bonnets

>>32425224
>Wait till later to approach the men, talk with the Bonnets

“I’ll deal with those men after ‘avin’ a chat with the Bonnets, eh?” You affirm.

Mary nods and accompanies you to where Alesa and Oscar are standing.

“How went the recruitment, James?” Oscar asks with a chipper tone. He has been much more open after you accepted his apology.

“Fruitful, Oscar. We have enough men to man the new sloop. Now, the only question remains as to who is going to Captain her.” You reply.

“Hmm, a troubling and hard task to manage, James.” Alesa pipes in.

“Aye, I’ll deal with the answer at a later date. But now, I have a more pressing question for you. Do you two know about the blighters who’ve taken refuge in our fair tavern?” You question.

“Aye.” Alesa answers quickly. “I seen ‘em leave their ship and tag ashore. We haven’t left the cove, so we don’t know what’s in store fer them, or why they are here.”

“I see…” you begin as the sound of footsteps grows louder behind you. Mary’s eyes narrow, and Alesa and Oscar’s eyes widen. You turn your head to see Catherine striding confidently towards your little group, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows to reveal numerous tattoos and brandings that seemingly continued higher up her arms.

“Ah yes.” You begin again as Mary turns her gaze to you, her fiery stare making you sweat without your control.

“Who’s this woman, James?” Mary asks aggressively, clutching your hand and pulling herself in between the approaching woman and yourself.

>console Mary
>Introduce Catherine to the group
>Let Catherine introduce herself

>>32425576
>console Mary
console and prevent her from starting a fight

>>32425576
>Let Catherine introduce herself

>>32425576
>Console Mary
This is business, not pleasure. That's still belongs with you.

>>32425576
>>Let Catherine introduce herself

“There-there, dear Mary. You’ve not need worry about her- “ You begin.

“Hoy there, Cap’n.” Catherine announces as she approaches. Alesa stands firm, but Oscar takes half a step in retreat as she enters the circle of friends.

“Mary, this- “ you try again.

“Th’names Catherine, wee ginger lass.” She cheerily exclaims, extending her hand out toward Mary.

Without hesitation, Mary accepts it and shakes it thoroughly, not breaking her staring gaze. Catherine continues shaking her hand until the time becomes awkward, eventually saying.

“Aye lass, he’s yer sweetheart. Can ye let me go now?”

Mary drops the shake and snorts lightly, returning to your side. Catherine extends the same hand to Alesa, who quickly and heartily shakes it. Oscar gives a brief shake before retreating to the outer circle.

“Right, so, Cap’n, I dinnae mean to be intrudin’ but could ye spot me to the supplies warehouse? I’ll be needin’ somethin’ new ta wear o’er this uld coat n’ gambits here.”

You point Catherine to the jungle path and the direction of the warehouse. She thanks you and jaunts off, humming and singing along the way.

“Now…” you begin once again, for the fourth time.

>Men at the tavern
>Catherine
>Sloop matters

>>32425954
>Men at the tavern

>>32425954
>Men at the tavern
Find out what's going on.

“Let’s see what these intruders want, eh?” You exclaim to unanimous agreement.

Alesa and Oscar had not left the lagoon, so they don’t know what lies outside, or on the other side of the isle if anything is there at all. All that is known for sure is that the men rowed ashore from a larger vessel and walked through the jungle to the outpost.

You see the tavern come into the view, and the men are immediately distinguishable. Sitting around a few gathered tables, the men are young, nary a one over 25 you’d gamble. You grow suspicious at what the men could be here for as you approach, Mary to your left, and the Bonnets to the right.

“Ahoy there, strangers-” You begin.

“Ey, old man, can’tcha see we are enjoyin’ being alone? So fuckoff!” One lad says, one you wouldn’t wager over a 18 year’d lad.

Taken aback at the sudden remark and being called an ‘old man’, you furrow your brow and try again to be civil.

“Now, lads, calm down the tempers ya got there! Ye be in MY town, yeah? Not every day strange men come outta the jungle an take a seat in yer tavern, do they?” You say. The strange men gaze back at you sternly.

“Alright there, who’re you?” one asks.

“Nay, lads. I’m the one askin’ these questions here. Who’re you lads and what are ye doin’ in my home?” You assert.

“Are ye James Abbot?” Another asks, the men beginning to lean back in their chairs, their hands disappearing under the tables.

You begin eyeing the group, and subconsciously place a hand on Mary’s stomach, slowly pushing her further behind you as you take a step forward. Some of the boys are starting to sweat and get a bad case of the shifty eyes.

>Jump the strangers
>Wait and see what happens
>Tell Mary to go home/away from the tavern
>Try to ease the tension

>>32426265
>>Tell Mary to go home/away from the tavern

>>32426265
>Tell Mary to go home/away from the tavern
this is bad, tell her to bring back Catherine

>>32426265
>Tell Mary to go home/away from the tavern.
Get Catherine and some of the crew. Feels like bounty hunters.

>>32426265
>>Tell Mary to go home/away from the tavern

You turn your head to Mary and speak out of the corner of your mouth.

“Love of my life, can ye make yerself scarce ‘round ‘ere, I smell trouble. Run an’ get summathem lads an’ the big lass, can ye?”
Mary cooperates immediately, pulling Oscar along with her as they briskly walk out of the Tavern area. You and Alesa stand side by side, firmly shoulder to shoulder as you confront the gang of 13 young men.

“I’ll say agin’ old man. Are ye James Abbot?” the boy repeats.

“Maybe I know where he lies, what’s it to ya, boys?” You respond

“We gots to be ‘avin’ some word wiff ‘im.” Another boy chirps, a heavy mid-lands English accent accosting his speech.

“Yeah? Well I’ll be dealin’ with his meetin’s all afternoon, lads. Bring yer questions to me, one at a time now.” You retort, hand resting on your cutlass.

A boy begins to unroll a parchment quietly as you banter back and forth with the uppity and twitchy youths, his eyes darting between you and the paper multiple times as other lean in for a look. The paper is quickly scrunched up and pocketed away as the boy reaches into his vest and clutches something tightly, adjusting his hand’s grip.

“Now… lads…” you begin again.

“Shuttup and git on yer knees, Abbot!” the oldest lad yells, drawing a pistol from his waist.

>Action mode: Dive and tackle the lead Bounty Hunter
>Retreat and gain cover
>Try and reason with them
>Comply with his demands

>>32426701
>Retreat and gain cover
13 vs 2...
we need some backup

>>32426701
>Retreat and gain cover
Got to get out of the tavern and wait for reinforcements.

>>32426792
What this guy says!!

And welcome back bootstraps!!!

>>32426701
>>Retreat and gain cover

You slide your foot backward and Alesa is already tossing the nearest chair in the direction of the outstretched pistol. Caught unawares, the lads panic into action as the pistol goes off in a harmless direction, producing a large gout of smoke that only aides in your retreat. You both run to the edge of the decking of the tavern and take refuge behind a small stone wall. You can hear the sound of shouting and shuffling as the lads are a mess. Nervous chirps and quips towards the head boy are silenced as the leader shuts them up.

“Alright boys, no need fer anyone to get hurt at this point. Just get off my island and no blood needs to be spilt.” You call from behind the wall, pistol and cutlass drawn.

“Fuckoff, Abbot! Yer worth more money to us back in England than the cost to get ‘ere! The king’s got a bounty on yer arse, you know that!?” The leader responds.

You ponder who could have ratted you out, but the thought is fleeting as another gunshot rings out and ricochets off the wall, sending plaster and shards of stone raining down upon you. Alesa is attempting to sneak around the edge of the tavern wall as another shot corners her back into her starting position. She worriedly glances at you, and you motion with your hand to calm down.

“We just need to outlast ‘em until the boys get ‘ere. Any minute now…” you state, trying not to sound nervous.

>Banter with the boys
>Give yourself up to the boys
>Try to get Alesa to escape
>Take a shot over the wall and then attack

>>32427038
>Banter with the boys
A bounty?
How much?

>>32427038
>>Banter with the boys

>>32427038
>Banter with the boys
earning time, earning time

>>32427038
>>Banter with the boys

“So, lads, how much is that bounty on my head?” You shout over the wall.

A short pause, which you can only assume is for double-checking the bounty papers, is quickly followed by “800 pounds!”

“800 pounds? You say to yourself, insulted. You look over at Alesa and mouth ‘800 pounds’ again in her direction. She responds by holding up ten fingers and then pointing at herself and grinning, sneaking a peak around the wall. You look down and then back at her, mouthing ‘One thousand?!” She nods quickly and winks at you in return. You purse your lips and furrow your brow at the thought.

“800 pounds isn’t that much split up 13 ways, I’m afraid.” You shout back.

“Yeah, well, we don’t care!” the leader shouts back incredulously.

“Think about it, you are wasting your lives sailing about with the only hope of gaining coin to bring back to your home! It’s a poor use of time!” you retort.

A short and confusing pause is broken by “What makes that different from what you do, then?”

Befuddled and puzzled, you just shout “Cork it!” in frustration. Alesa is brandishing her pistol as she chuckles, sweeping up to take a potshot. She fires and the sound of splitting wood is heard as the lead ball splinters a chair-back. The boys recoil and shout that they are being shot that.

“You lot sound too green fer real bounty-hunters. Who put ye up to it?” You question

“The Navy!” a voice retorts

“Jesus Christ, the navy is hiring boys to do their dirty work?” you mutter to yourself. You are about to saying something else as you see a small group of your veteran crewmembers slinking into position with you. You look around, but Catherine is nowhere to be found.

>Wait for Catherine
>Negotiate their surrender
>Attack the boys

>>32427333
>>Negotiate their surrender

While will also let us >Wait for Catherine

>>32427333
>Negotiate their surrender
they are soooo fucked

>>32427333
>Negotiate their surrender
"You boys don't have any hope to get out alive if you kill me on my island and with my people surrounding you. Give up and you might get out of here with your lives."

>>32427333
>Attack the boys
Letting them leave will only lead more bounty hunters to our island

>>32427333
>Negotiate their surrender

“Drop yer weapons lads, you’re surrounded and outgunned!” You shout, your men raising their weapons to be visible, but not exposing themselves. The tide has turned and as the table sits, it is now 22 to 13.

The boys can be heard grumbling and scuffling about in the tavern, misdirection in the ranks of the young boys. “Listen! Give up, drop your weapons and we’ll talk. Keep ‘em, and we attack. I’ll give ye 5 minutes to decide!” You shout, nodding to your crewmembers.

You can barely hear the raspy whispers of angry young men as they fervently argue with one another. The time ticks away, and one of your crew members motions with his head to peer over the wall. Doing so, you spy the boys have mostly laid down their arms to argue with one another. All at once, you jump up, pistols and muskets at the ready. The boys are stunned and begin back into one another, eager to get out of the outer circle. Even the barkeep has a pistol primed and aimed at the boys from behind the bar. You step out from the wall, walking towards the boys with your pistol outstretched.

“Back away from them weapons, boys.” You command. They all do so; their leader reluctantly so.

“What should we do with ‘em, Cap’n?” Your first-mate calls.

You ponder the thought, what should you do with the boys now that they are surrendered? Should you let them go, living with the dear that more may return? Should you imprison them and force them to work on the island with the workers? You try not to think too hard about killing them, but it is a realistic option.

>Take their weapons, let them go
>Imprison them and make them work in a chain-gang
>Dispose of them quietly and away from town

>>32427718
>>Imprison them and make them work in a chain-gang

>>32427718
>Imprison them and make them work in a chain-gang
most profitable option

>>32427718
>>Imprison them and make them work in a chain-gang

“Send ‘em into the jungle. They’ll work for their keep behind bars.” You judge. The boys look crestfallen, and can be heard cursing their former leader.

Your crew agrees and begins to usher the boys into file and down the narrow pathway. Alesa gathers all the weapons they possessed and piles them onto a table after un-priming all the guns.

“Well…” you begin once again but are cut short by the screams of a 16 year old lad leaping in your general direction. You begin to recoil and turn as the boy is brandishing a formidable dagger with both hands, clearly intending on murdering you. You are too slow to draw your cutlass as he closes the distance, but as you shut your eyes, contact is never made. The boy is hovering in mid-air, his feet never reaching the ground. Catherine stands beside you, her grasp on the boy’s arms so tight they are pinned to his sides. She has not yet found a replacement garment, and just wears a worn-thin sleeveless shirt and her gun holsters with her leggings and boots. Her tattoos fully visible as they stretch up her arms and across her shoulders to her collar bone.

“I’m sorry Cap’n, I should’ve been a tad skippy on me return.” She apologizes.

“No worries, Catherine. I’m no helpless bairnie.

“What should I do with this’n?” She asks.

>Take him with the others
>Keep him in solitary
>’Dispose’ of this one

>>32428207
>>’Dispose’ of this one

Our patience has been tested today

>>32428207
let her choose

>>32428207
>’Dispose’ of this one

>>32428207
>’Dispose’ of this one
One chance kind of man

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“Move along, lads.” You order; the men ushering the 12 other boys into the jungle.

You motion Catherine to follow you as you head for the jungle side of the town. You pass Mary on the way, but you halt her advance as she tries to question you.

“Not now, Mary. I’ll be back soon.” You state.

She stops dead in her tracks, gazing at the boy bound in Catherine’s arms and your grim countenance, nodding at you, and clasping her hands together in front of her, Oscar at her side.

You continue on to the thick of the jungle, muddy ground, low hanging foliage and the thick smell of humid, green air lingers in your nostrils as you find a small clearing. Catherine plunks the boy down on the ground roughly and draws a pistol from her holsters.

“Look, son. I gave you a chance to live, but you spat it back in my face.” You begin. I don’t know why you decided to go through with yer plan, but you didn’t succeed. Unfortunately, this isn’t a lesson you get te learn from.”

The boy gazes away from the inside of the pistol’s barrel into your eyes; the foggy mist of tears beginning to well up within the corners of his eyes. But he hardens his face and puts on a strong face as he closes his eyes and accepts his fate. Catherine pulls the trigger, and the boy’s life is ended instantly. You feel a twinge of regret in your heart as you see the dead lad crumpled on the ground and you turn your gaze to Catherine, who has remained stony-faced through the entire endeavour, her cheery smile long since gone once the trek into the jungle began.

Catherine begins to reposition the boy’s corpse as you hold up a hand and say “Leave him.”

With a nod, she begins to follow you back out of the jungle.

>Reconvene with Alesa
>Talk to Mary
>Go home, alone.

>>32428619
>Talk to Mary
We had to do it but it leaves a bad taste in our mouth. Mary, make me feel better.

>>32428619
>Talk to Mary
>>32428688
exactly

>>32428619
>>Talk to Mary

You and Catherine return from the jungle to find Mary and Oscar conversing. The sight of your return sparks their interest as they hurriedly come to your side. Catherine puts a hand on Oscars shoulder and ushers him away from you and Mary.

You try to say something, but you just hang your head and look back into the jungle. Mary slips her arms under yours and presses her cheek into your chest in a tight embrace.

“Life is full of hard choices, James.” She whispers, muffled through the fabric of your shirt. You stand with your arms at your side as she hugs you and grabs your hand, pulling you towards her house. Catherine is seen talking with Alesa and Oscar as she nods to you as you pass, acknowledging that she knows where you’ll be. As you enter Mary’s home, you kick off your boots and sit down heavily on the edge of her bed. Mary closes the door and sets the lock before joining you. You don’t really have anything to say about the matter, and Mary understands that. She just wraps an arm around your side and leans her head on your shoulder, offering you all the comfort she can give.

Eventually, you both become tired enough that you get ready for bed and undress. Once under the comforting weight of the blankets, Mary scoots up behind you, putting her hand over your heart and running her fingers through your hair a few times before kissing you on the cheek. You fear you will be plagues by foul dreams, but the night proves to be steady and calm.

Once the morning comes, you suddenly wake with a foul sense. You crack open your sleep filled eyes to see Catherine standing over the bed.

“Good Morn’ to ya, Cap’n.”

You pull a strange face of disbelief and give up trying to figure the bodyguard out, letting your head fall heavily back onto the pillow next to Mary’s. You’ll deal with the day later.

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>>32429067

This is about a good spot as any to call it quits for the night. A nice, natural ending. A 6 hour run-time is pretty decent for the return of my questing.

Alright, thank you everyone who came out to view the quest! It feels good to get back in the saddle after many months of absence and I really enjoyed writing fiction again. Look forward to the next formal instalment of Rum & Booty Quest next Wednesday beginning at 3:30pm Central time.

As usual, any comments & criticism is always welcome and appreciated. Especially character wise.

>>32429145
this was fun, thanks for running
and don't forget to archive

>>32429278

I would If I knew how. Some kind anon usually did it for me before.

>>32429576
you just have to copy the tags of the previous thread and follow the form when you click on the "request thread" button, it's nothing complicated, really

>>32429576
Some one put it up

>>32429727

Well I'll be. Many thanks to that kind anon who did it for me. You are very much appreciated.