>>32736594


You feel more at home as your feet sound across the familiar deck of the Freeman’s Abbey; the exchange from The Walnut a swift and easy one as the ships were moored behind an outlying rocky island. Despite your wounds, you feel invigorated as the waves pound beneath your wooden holk, the spray in your face and the winds in your hair. You take a moment to ponder how things are at home, now that you have been gone for a week, but you insist that everything will be taken care of in your leave from Green Turtle Key. Mary should have everything looked after, while Catherine will have Mary looked after. Pulling your eyes away from the sky and back to the white-capped waves of the sea you begin to feel a swelling sense of pride as the orchestra of the mind draws you back into your boyhood fantasies of sailing the open sea in search of adventure and danger; a particularly rough wave causing a pang of pain in your side, making you reconsider the ‘danger’ part. You stand at the helm of your vessel, holding her skillfully on her course toward the fortress of Alesa’s description, primed to make a weighty choice that lies at your feet. Do you consider the voyage a wash and return home to make the voyage another day once you and your crew have recovered, or do you proceed and use the encounter with Ainsworth to be a sign that you will have safer travels in the immediate future? After everything that you have been through, it is a tough decision to make…

>Take hold of the moment and proceed to the fortress
>Cut your losses and return home
>Ask the opinions of the other captains in a meeting

>>32736607
>Ask the opinions of the other captains in a meeting
i think it'd be some big losses for nothing if we just go back now, but that's maybe just me

>>32736607
>Ask the opinions of the other captains in a meeting

File: Abbey.jpg (60 KB, 600x400)

60 KB JPG

You decide that you have left home as a council of Captains, and a decision as such should be made by the captains. As you ask your first-mate to request the presence of the signalmen, you are rewarded quickly as the small handful of men approach quickly as they give you a salute. With their orders to request a stop to the convoy and to convene on the next approachable island, they set off and begin the intricate and complicated process of flag raising and hoisting to signal the other two ships that are in tow. The winds prove favorable on your present course, but you could easily take a different course if you were to think that it would prove to present a location quicker. Your present course would yield such a location in a little under a day, however. As you sail for the Atwoods, you could reach the Acklin key if you stay on the present course as you exit the Bahama Shoal now that the Iumettas are behind you. To the south, you could reach the Mira Por Vos archipelago of tiny sandbar islands that would be much quicker to approach, but would offer no protection and no camouflage from prying eyes. To the North, the Crooked Isle would give you plenty of shelter in amongst its nestled rocks and coves, as well as U’ater outpost that sits on its northern shore is more than friendly to pirates of the sea. However, it would take a hair longer than your current course.

>Stay the course for the Acklin Key
>Divert south to reach the Mira Por Vos archipelago
>Divert north to reach the Crooked Isle and U’ater outpost

>>32737075
>Divert north to reach the Crooked Isle and U’ater outpost
let's play it safe

>>32737075
>Divert north to reach the Crooked Isle and U’ater outpost

Your men signal the convoy to head north towards the Crooked Isle in hopes of finding a moment of rest for the battle weary crews. You gaze upon your crewmembers and watch as they move with limps, slumps and tired expressions. They push themselves for you, willing to look past the pain and exhaustion to follow your orders. These are good men.

~~~~~

The days went by quickly as you managed the Key. The tavern needed new furnishings after the shootout with the Bounty Hunters, a near-fight that almost broke out between two men in the wharf, checking on the young boys that were captured and put to work in the inlet grove as well as trying to curb Catherine’s nearly insatiable capacity for drink. Speaking of which, she follows you wherever you may be; home, wandering about the island, running errands and tasks, she even sleeps in the same bed as you when you get up in the early morning. Though, you feel safe and secure with the looming giantess watching over you. As you prepare yourself to go outside on James’ 8th day of departure, you take one last look into your room to spy the motionless form of Catherine sleeping soundly in your bed; her affects hung neatly on a bedpost at her feet, with her axe leaning on the wall next to her head. You cannot help but smile at the sight as you realize you’ve quickly become good friends. In these sparse few hours that you get alone, you head to the piers to gaze at the freshly risen sun over the horizon and think of James’ voyage, praying for a safe return.

~~~~~~

The day moves swiftly as you weave the Abbey and her followers through the straits of the islands and round the northern shore of the Crooked Isle, the faint glow of the outpost shining out from the rocky outcroppings that dot the shoreline. It is far into the evening, but the sun has only just set.

>Dock immediately
>Wait till morning
>Get the healthy to the outpost to bring supplies to the wounded
>Send the wounded to be carried ashore in search of space

>>32737542
>Dock immediately

>>32737542
>>Dock immediately

>>32737542
>>Dock immediately

With a sense of tired urgency, you give the order to dock immediately. As the Abbey begins her deceleration and maneuvering toward the small port, you give the wheel up and pass the post to your first-mate, as he guides the vessel to anchor safely as you descend the gallery stairs and into your cabin. You can hear the milling about of your crew as purposeful footsteps above your head pass regularly. You peer out of the small windows that line your cabin toward the outpost. You quickly estimate it not much larger than Green Turtle Key, if even larger at all. It is an interesting thought to have; seeing a place much like your own, just sitting there. Soon enough, you are helped into a longboat bent on reaching the piers of U’ater as you feel the urge for drink rising from your stomach. You haggardly climb out of the longboat onto the pier, your side protesting the entire time. You watch the longboats come to and fro with crewmembers, healthy and wounded, slowly filing towards the mainland. Before long, the sleepy outpost has a small party demanding your attention. You thank your Quartermaster for informing you and you head out to the small band that is waiting at the pier’s end.

“Evening, gentlemen.” You begin. “My apologies for the racket so late in the ‘eve, but some of me crew couldn’t wait the night in the hold.”

“Aye…” one of them responds, curios and wary glances being cast at you by the group.

“An’ what have ye got in mind fer our little town, eh?” A man asks.

“Nothing more than a place te stay and some rest fer me boys. We’ve had a hard trip so far, friends.” You respond, clutching your side inadvertently.

“Oh, I can tell that, yer lot’s lookin’ a little rough ‘round the edges, cap’n.” a scruffy old man says with a shut eye and a wobble of a cob pipe.

>Inform them of the battle
>Be vague on the matter
>Tell them who you are

>>32738092
>>Be vague on the matter

>>32738092
>Inform them of the battle
he's a feared pirate hunter, and we managed to fend him off, what could go wrong?

>>32738092
>Inform them of the battle

“Aye, they are.” You inform. “We had a bit of a tussle with man of fortune, let’s say.”

“That so, eh? I s’pose that cannon-fire we be ‘earin’ oer west yesterday wouldn’t be you, would it cap’n?” The old man asks.

You can’t help but produce a small laugh at the statement after what you’ve gone through. “Now listen, friends. I know yer place amongst the West-indies an’ ye’ve always been kind to Free Men in the past.” You state.

This look worries some members of the receiving party, but a few, including the old man, stand firm. “Yer pirates then, is it?” The old-timer asks, quite frank.

“Aye.” You respond, simply.

“Well right then, Cap’n. Looks like ye’ve had yerself quite a tussle indeed.” The old man laughs, walking forward with a hand outstretched. You shake it gratefully as he shoos away the malcontents grumbling over his friendliness towards you.

“Much obliged, sir.” You say in thanks.

“Oh, no no, me boy; I’m no sir. Jus’ a lowly seaman who found his way amongst the free men long-long ago.” He chuckles. As you are received inland, your men begin setting up small tents and lean-tos with tarps on the beach and outskirts of the town. You meet up with Oscar on the way to the local tavern, who is overseeing the transport of his still bed-ridden sister. With parting words, you proceed with the old man.

(cont.)

File: images.jpg (4 KB, 194x259)

4 KB JPG

>>32738517

With a seat in the lustrous open-air tavern, he eyes you for a moment before asking you a question you knew would come sooner or later. “So. What happened, eh lad?”

You recount the tale of your battles with Ainsworth and the result of his uncertain casualty. You have to stop yourself as you finish telling the tales of the French Bounty Hunters and the boys from England sent to capture you. The old man drinks in all the information without batting an eye, his rapt attention never straying once from your stories.

“I see, I see, Captain Abbot. Yer not so invisible anymore, ye know. There be words drifting among the flotsam tied to yer name these days; a pirate who be startin’ a fleet, who owns an island all to himself.” The old man answers.

>Act shocked
>Inquire more
>Act proud

(small break for dinner. Stay in your seats, folks.) [Thought I typed the captcha and walked away, double sorry!]

>>32738983
>Inquire more

>>32738983
>Inquire more

>>32738983
>Inquire more

>>32738983
>>Inquire more

File: tumblr_mkzkk0DeIg1rcmoqwo1_500.jpg (36 KB, 500x258)

36 KB JPG

“Is that so…” You ponder aloud.

“Aye, lad. If word gets out that yer defeatin’ pirate hunters, bounty hunters an’ runnin’ yer own lands, ye may have some new… opportunities ‘round the West-Indies.” The old man answers. “Danger runs her course, Cap’n Abbot. Sometimes she’s with ye, sometimes against ye; but by the sound offit ye know that plenty well by now!” He chuckles, slapping the table with an open palm.

You sit resolute in the fact that you are making a difference for men and women of the free seas, but you cannot help but worry about the safety of your home. This makes your mission all the more important in your mind, but you still stand by the notion of the decision by council majority.

“So lad- are the rumors true?” The man asks.

You ponder a moment, staring at his sea-worn face that is bright with expectation and curiosity. His hands neatly folded across the table as he leans ever-so-slightly towards you.

“Aye.”

The old-timer leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as a smile streaks across his face like a star in the night sky. His eyes flash in the pallid darkness that sweeps in from the sea as he leans back into the bright moonlight. “Interestin’…”

“Might I ask yer own name, old-timer?” You request.

“Oh, I’m jus’ an old man lost te time an’ the seas, lad.” He protests. But you insist deftly, expecting something in return for your honesty. He chuckles and sighs aloud. The old man stands up from the table and walks around it, letting you get a full view of the spritely and surprisingly tall old man. He straightens his back and extends a hand once more.

“The name’s Skinner. Wayne Skinner.”

>Skinner… Skinner… Do I know that name?
>Accept his hand and ask him for a drink
>Compliment him on his sprightliness and introduce him to your fellow captains


[okay, break for dinner for real now. Had some spare time while it was cooking away. Be back in 45~ minutes]

>>32739507
>>Accept his hand and ask him for a drink
>>Compliment him on his sprightliness and introduce him to your fellow captains

I would actually say all three since they are compatible choices

>>32739507
>Accept his hand and ask him for a drink
then
>Skinner… Skinner… Do I know that name?
same name and same tall figure... the world sure is small

>>32739507
>>Skinner… Skinner… Do I know that name?
>>Accept his hand and ask him for a drink
>>Compliment him on his sprightliness and introduce him to your fellow captains
Have a drink with the captians

>>32739507
>Skinner… Skinner… Do I know that name?
>Accept his hand and ask him for a drink
>Compliment him on his sprightliness and introduce him to your fellow captains

>>32739507
>>Skinner… Skinner… Do I know that name?
>>Accept his hand and ask him for a drink
>>Compliment him on his sprightliness and introduce him to your fellow captains

Thanks for your patience everyone. Writing the next post as we speak.

You extend a hand once more and respond in kind. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Skinner.”

With the small pleasantries exchanged, you raise a hand to the tavern keeper’s attention and quickly receive two small flagons of the outpost’s special stock.

“Come, walk with me, Mr. Skinner.” You request.

“Aye Cap’n.” He aptly responds, no hesitation at your command.

As you walk, you spy that he would be a good several inches taller than you if he stood up straight instead of his slightly slumped posture he has now. You both walk and talk as you head toward the beaches, slowly nursing the strong liquor. As the beach draws nearer, you pause your step and he quickly catches himself mid-stride to stop at your side.

“A question for ye.” You begin. “Now… I know of an associate of mine that be also named Skinner…”

“Aye, well, Skinner’s a common name there, cap’n.” He responds.

“That be true, aye, but.. this’ns a fair lass by the name of Catherine.” You add.

You can see his eyebrow twitch at the name as he plays it off coolly. “A common name once more, cap’n. Could be a thousand Catherine Skinners out there sommares.”

You crack a sly grin as you see right through his façade. “Aye, could be, once again. But this lass is as big and strong as a haughty English Oak with gold leaves atop her branches, Mr. Skinner. Much like yerself.” You finish, casting a finger towards his lightening blonde hair. “But last she told me… you were dead.”

You can see that he is floundering for words as you give him a wink and place a hand on his back, ushering his feet back to the rhythm of a slow walk. “Fear not, sir. Dead men usually have their reasons, me thinks.” You add. “Come, I want ye to meet me fellow Captains of the Key.”

>Take him to Oscar first
>Take him to Alesa first
>Go and check to see if they are willing to meet people

Rolled 8

>>32740768
>>Take him to Alesa first

>>32740768
>Go and check to see if they are willing to meet people

>>32740768
>Go and check to see if they are willing to meet people

>>32740768
>>Take him to Alesa first
>>Go and check to see if they are willing to meet people

As you near the tents that line the beach, you spy the Bonnet’s tent amongst the maze of canvas. You halt Mr. Skinner as you poke your head through the flaps to see if the pair was indisposed for the night. As you gaze about the spacious tent, you spy three figures inside. Oscar is standing near a lifted cot, his usual pensive expression worn across his face, Alesa still lying down, but now raptly awake and quite annoyed and Susanne the surgeon from before, administering to her wounds. Before you can speak out, Alesa spies you and ushers you in.

“Well, well, the man I took a musket ball for finally shows up te show his gratitude, eh?” She smirks.

“Ah, twas you indeed, was it?” You tease, pulling a finger through the hole in your coat left by the projectile after it went clean through Alesa. “Quite necessary, kind and noble maiden.”

Alesa merely rolls her eyes and attempts to right herself on the cot. Susanne and Oscar help her as she sits upright and motions you closer. Before you ask, she swipes the flagon from your hand and takes a long draft of the harsh liquor, eliciting a raspy cough, but a contented sigh as she drains the remainder.

“Ahh, much better, James. Thankee.” She says. It is your turn to roll your eyes as you stick an arm out of the flaps of the tent and motion Mr. Skinner inside.

“Now. You’ll never warry a guess te who I’ve met on our fair travel, me hearties.” You begin. “Alesa, this be Mr. Skinner, free man… retired.”

He extends a hand and gingerly shakes hers, tipping his brow towards her. “A pleasure te be in such beautiful company, missy.” He adds.

“Charmed…” Alesa adds, laughing slightly as she clutches her side. Turning to her brother, you introduce him once again. Susanne stands in the corner of the tent, wary eyed at the large figure in the tent.

>Introduce Susanne to Wayne
>Tell the council who he is
>Start the council meeting

>>32741138
>>Introduce Susanne to Wayne
>>Tell the council who he is

Rolled 1

>>32741138
>>Introduce Susanne to Wayne
>>Tell the council who he is

>>32741138
>Introduce Susanne to Wayne
>Tell the council who he is

“Susanne, this is Wayne Skinner. A friend of mine, if y’like.” You say, motioning her to come closer.

“B-Bonjour Monsieur Skinnerre…” She quietly expresses.

“Un plaisir de vous recontrer, Susanne. Vous avez un nom tres juste.” Wayne responds, lifting her hand gently.

Susanne is a mixture of astonished and giddy as the French speaking sea-dog clearly impressed her with his knowledge of the language.

“Now, This’n be Mister Skinner. Who does be makin’ ye think of, eh?” You query.

A short silence filled with ‘humm’s and ‘hmmm’s and scratching chins is interrupted as Alesa looks at you and whispers “Catherine?”

Oscar looks immediately and his face changes to a surprised expression as he sees the resemblance quickly.

“Aye. I be reckon’n this be our fair Catherine’s father!” You state. You can see Wayne shifting uncomfortably at the notion.

“I thought she said he’d be at the bottom o’th’sea?” Oscar questions.

“Aye, she’m be tellin’ me the same, Oscar.” You answer.

>>32741537

All the gazes turn to Wayne as he adjusts his feet in the sand before sighing audibly.

“Aye. I had a wee lass by th’name o’ Catherine a long while ago. I was just a young lad when I’d be comin’ across a bonny young lass, sweet, sweet, Colleen. She was th’fairest lass I’d ever seen, ‘an I bedded her affore I set sail with the king’s Navy. Ere I returned seven years later… I’d found me own daughter awaitin’ me, sweet colleen nowhere t’be found. I left in t’night, leavin’ Catherine t’fend fer herself. I got no surprise from ‘er tellin’ folks I’d be dead, feedin’ the beasts of the deep…” He finishes, visibly saddened.

Oscar and Alesa are arm in arm as Alesa leans on Oscar, Susanne fights back some tears as she covers herself with a sleeve of her dress and sniffles.

“Aye, I’m a horrible man, an’ a father t’boot… but I’m glad she be safe.” Wayne adds.

>You are a horrible person
>You need to see your daughter
>Dead men should stay dead; for the better.

>>32741575
>You need to see your daughter

Rolled 5

>>32741575
>>You need to see your daughter

>>32741575
>You need to see your daughter

You pause to let the silence stick for a moment before shattering the sound of the lapping waves with a strong tone. “You need to see your daughter, Mister Skinner.”

His eyes widen in a way that you know he’d expect to hear that. He begins to mumble something that you cannot make out but you cut him off likewise. “Wayne, fer the good of your little girl, ye need to see her. She’s a woman now; if’n ye last saw her at 7 years, you’ve been gone fer 23 years! Don’t ye think you owe her an apology?”

“…aye.” He answers simply, hanging his head towards the ground. “I thought I’d be escapin’ her forever… but looks like she takes after her father, eh? Heh, heh.”

“Looks like you’ll be joinin’ us, Mister Skinner. Aboard my ship, if ye please.” You command.

“Aye Cap’n…” he answers.

“Now… about the voyage-“ you begin.

“We’re finishing it, James.” Alesa interrupts.

You are taken aback at her forwardness, but you shake your head in response.

“Susanne says I’ll be walkin’ in a week, just in time to get to the Atwoods. No problems ‘ere, James.” She asserts.

Oscar just nods and mimics his sister’s opinion.

“It’s settled, then. We leave at noon.” You finish, excusing yourself from the tent with Wayne. With a short conversation, Wayne is instructed to come aboard when the departure happens.

===========

You enter your home around nine in the morning, curious to why you haven’t seen Catherine skulking around in the background by now. Your feet pad across the worn boards of the sandy floor as you hum contentedly across the kitchen and small dining room and back to the bedroom. As you turn the knob, you hear an unfamiliar sound emanating from the room.

>Listen in for a moment
>Try to peek through the door gap
>Proceed into the bedroom

>>32742017
>Listen in for a moment
and
>Try to peek through the door gap

Rolled 3

>>32742017
>Listen in for a moment
>Try to peek through the door gap

>>32742017
>Listen in for a moment
>Try to peek through the door gap

You gently let the knob spiral back to the set position and press your ear against the wooden barrier. You can hear swelling noises that grow and diminish in nature, by you still cannot discern what is going on. You move your ear from the door to sliding an eye to the doorjam in hopes of seeing what is going on inside. There has always been a small gap in the door, so you can easily find a good spot to spy into the room. You are taken aback at the ease of it all, wondering if anyone had ever done this while you were within the room. With thoughts of fixing the door fresh in your mind you spy the back of Catherine, broad shoulders slumped and head invisible as it hung in front of her. Elbows visible on her knees and sporadic shakes and tremors give it away immediately. You swivel your head to spy multiple empty bottles of various shapes and sizes scattered atop the bedding belays the heavy smell of alcohol that permeates through the room as you slowly open the door into the bedroom. Catherine’s usual sixth-sense that is razor sharp seems defunct as you fully open the door and enter without her noticing. You close the door behind you, thinking of what you should do in such a situation. Catherine’s bubbled gasps and sniffles breaking the low sobbing that parts her dusky voice hangs low in the room, making you frown in empathy.

>Call out to her
>Walk around the bed and sit down
>Reach out towards her

>>32742298
>Call out to her

>>32742298
>Call out to her
ask her if she's ok, i guess?

“Catherine-“ you begin, but promptly quiet as the crying stops and she lurches her head around, twisting at the shoulders. She has a face of beleaguered anguish and bloodshot eyes from crying and the drink she imbibed.

“What. Do you. Want.” She demands, sloppily slurring her words.

Your ire slips forth at the rudeness of your friend, but you supress it and begin once more.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

Catherine responds with a diminished look as she turns back around. You round the bed and sit down next to her, her imposing frame casting yours in shadow.

“Catherine, you can tell me what’s wrong.” You assert, trying to get her to open up.

“You don’t want t’know…” She responds, playing around with a bottle in her hand. You notice that her axe and guns are strews about the floor of the room, some dents in the boards that line walls.

You are unsure of how to proceed, Catherine had always been so composed and relaxed in the time that you have known her; you have never seen her like this before. You shuffle your feet on the floor for a moment as Catherine sniffles once more, trying to not continue crying once again. You spy her weaseling out the cork that stops the bottle with her thumb and forefinger and letting it drop to the ground to join the others with a shallow bounce. The swilling of liquid in the greenish glass bottle swirling and tumbling as she lifts it to her mouth.

>Try and stop her from drinking
>Tell her to stop drinking
>Leave her be, go on with the day

>>32742671
>Tell her to stop drinking
and hug her?

>>32742671
But I do want to know

>>32742671
>Try and stop her from drinking

“Catherine. I think ye need to lay down the bottle for a while, lass.” You assert, placing a hand on the bottle to stop it from tipping up. You receive an angry glare from Catherine, something you’d not have seen since she arrived. She has a slight look of madness about her as she silently stares at you, daring you to continue. You furrow your brow as you push down on the bottle steadily, letting it descend back to chest height and away from her mouth.

“If’n ye be daring, Mary, ye’ll try that again.” Catherine snarls, slowly raising the bottle once again.

You frown, your ire breaking loose from your fiery temper as you grab the bottle from her hands and throw it against the wall, shattering the container. Catherine closes her fingers several times at the lack of a bottle in her hands before turning her head and standing up. She towers over you, her fists clenched tight as the muscles in her forearms contract as she rolls her grip. You stand to meet her, a full foot shorter, but dually as defiant. Catherine lets out a snort and raises a fist, unloading the tension like a cannon shot, striking you across the face.

(cont.)

>>32743212

The world turns black for a moment as you reel across the room, tipping over the bed and clear across the other side. You come to moments later, supporting yourself from the floor, a small pool of blood forming on the wooden boards as the cut on your cheek bone spills the crimson fluid over the sandy floor. You pull yourself up, the room spinning as you try and find your centre and stand tall. You slowly turn to see the unblurring figure of Catherine standing across the bed, fists still clenched. You stagger forward, leaning on the bed posts as you clambour around the end of the bed and in front of her. You stare directly into her face and close the distance quickly, wrapping your arms underneath hers and around her midsection, squeezing her tight as you nestle your face atop her chest.

Catherine begins to protest, but you squeeze firmer in response. What feels like a century rolls by as you continue your assault, blood soaking into Catherine’s shirt from your wound. Eventually, a sniffle is heard as she relaxes and wraps her arms around you, pulling you tighter as she begins to cry once again, bringing her head down on top of yours, her tears streaming through your hair.

>Remain silent
>Say something soothing
>Sit down together

>>32743237
>Say something soothing
then
>Sit down together

>>32743237
>>Remain silent
>Sit down together

>>32743237
>Say something soothing

i guess we can sit down ad talk it out once she's calmed down too

Rolled 1

>>32743237
>>Sit down together
>Say something soothing

You gently rub Catherine’s back as you embrace her and smoothly shush her quiet like a mother would to a scared child. You let go of all the tension and anger in your voice, the timber of kindness and calmness showing through as you say the first thing in nearly a half hour to her.

“Whatever it is, it will be okay.”

Catherine looks down at your face as you pull away from her collar cone, the large cut on your cheek sticking to her shirt for a moment as you remove yourself; a large reddish stain on the cream coloured fabric. You can see her lower lip quiver as a moment before she whispers something to you.

“I’m so sorry…”

The tears nearly burst through once again as you pull her down to sit on the edge of the bed once again. Grabbing the very hand that punched you not long ago in two hands, you clasp it tightly and forgive her. You use a free hand to stroke her cheek, wiping an errant tear that sat upon her face and give her a smile.

“Now, what’s the matter?” You ask.

(cont.)

>>32743735

Catherine’s face hardens slightly as she recounts the night her father returned. Her mother had died when she was only 6 years old, so when her father returned a year later, she was ecstatic that she could have at least one parent. However, he abandoned her in the middle of the night, nowhere to be found. She was crushed, it ruined her. She only assumed that he didn’t love or want her, so she was on her own for life. It turned her down the road she is on today, and even though she tells everyone her parents are dead, she knows her father may be out there somewhere.

You share your condolences and hug her once more, comforting her with a kiss on the cheek. You both sit there for a few more hours, talking and sharing, but Catherine says one final thing that resonates in your heart.

“If’n I ever see him; I’ll kill him myself.”

======

The winds arose as the Atwoods came into view, and Alesa’s fabled fortress along with it. Though, it may have been a fortress at one time, but now, it is nothing more than a few ruined towers surrounded by crumbling walls. The central keep is still standing, but who knows what is lying inside.

>Dock and send everyone aboard the island
>Proceed alone with a small party
>Go with Oscar, leaving Alesa with the boats
>Go with Alesa, leaving Oscar with the boats

>>32743764
>Go with Oscar, leaving Alesa with the boats

>>32743764
>Go with Alesa, leaving Oscar with the boats
She is the one that knows this place right?

>>32743764
>Go with Oscar, leaving Alesa with the boats

>>32743861
now that you say it, you do have a big point

>>32743874 here, switching to >Go with Alesa, leaving Oscar with the boats

>>32743861
Yeah, but she's injured. If there are enemies inside, we don't know if she'll be able to fight.

>>32743985
>“Susanne says I’ll be walkin’ in a week, just in time to get to the Atwoods. No problems ‘ere, James.”
she'll be fine

>>32744059
I'd still prefer to err on the side of caution.

Rolled 10

>>32743764
>>Go with Alesa, leaving Oscar with the boats

You make dry land, wary of any locals that may be squatting in the old fort. Alesa joins you, a crutch under one arm to help her support her own weight. Susanne accompanies her with the landing party. You converse with Alesa as she tells you of all the places around the fort she remembers. The party cautiously makes its way through the ruins, sending scouts around every corner and checking every nook and cranny along the way. Alesa points up to a standing section of the wall, 5 cannons still in place. You make a mental note of its location and proceed towards the keep.

The main doors to the keep still stand on rusty hinges and as you test the swing, they lurch forward into the interior of the fortress. There are no lights, no torches to illuminate the inside. As your men fashion some grass torches to help see in the windowless ruin, you wander slightly deeper inside. You come upon a smell, a smell that shouldn't be inside an empty ruin. As you venture deeper into the darkness, you stumble into a small table with a small object atop it. As you reach down, you pick up the smooth, curved object and feel its warmth and a tiny trail of grey wisps emanating from the bulbous end. Barely visible in the darkness, the smell is much more pungent.

“A pipe…” you murmur.

Alarm bells begin ringing in your head as you drop the pipe and turn to yell out of the door. As you open your mouth, the large, heavy doors slam shut. Moments later, a secondary thud of a cross-bar locking the doors sounds.

A scrape is heard as a match is lit in the darkness, the pipe now in the mouth of its owner. A soft red glow of the embers barely illuminating a face you do not recognize.

“Well well, Capitaine Abbot. Il semble que nous rencontrons…. Encore.”

File: Rum & booty.jpg (540 KB, 1920x1080)

540 KB JPG

>>32744275


~~~~~

The end, for now! Thanks everyone for participating, especially at the end there. I am seriously touched that there is that much conversation between my followers, no joke! This feels like my most successful thread ever! Unfortunately, I must leave you all with another cliff-hangar to end the 10th thread. I am getting quite sleepy, and I don't want my writing to suffer more than its already shoddy state.

For those who do not know, I will be running the Quest on THURSDAYS at 3:30pm central now, since a D&D game sprouted up on the previously used Wednesdays. As usual, any comments/criticism is welcome at the end of the thread and I value any and all input that the readers may have. However, I do have question for those who wish to answer:

Do you like the split story-lines, telling James' and Mary's at the same time, or should I purely focus on one at a time? Also, do the characters graciously drawn for us resemble anything that you pictures the characters to look like?

>>32744383
I like it as is
The characters look nothing like in my head though

>>32744383
thanks for running!
i enjoy the split stories
and for the characters, not really

i wonder if you're using google translate for the french parts, sometimes it doesn't really mean anything

Rolled 1

>>32744383

I enjoy the split story-line personally.

>>32744383
Doesn't Mary have blue eyes?

>>32744383
Thanks for the thread. I don't mind the split story-lines, but I prefer focusing on one character at a time.
Mary and Catherine look close to what I imagined.The other three look nothing like it, tough.

>>32744430

Kind thanks to ye!

>>32744492

I'm using my 9th grade level french that I haven't used in nearly 10 years. Translate probably does a better job

>>32744503

Thank you kindly, I enjoy writing form both perspectives!

>>32744508

That she does! Stormy blue, if I recall correctly. I didn't say no to the time and effort the anon gave for the work, so I appreciate it none the less.

>>32744557

I must say I agree. I've never given too-too much detail on the ways the characters look so people can have their own picture in mind, but he was nearly spot-on for Catherine in my opinion. The other four were interesting takes on what I had written though!