NSWRPF Archive Pirates of the Caribbean III: At the World's End-- Now Accepting New Players!

IC: Davy Jones

"We've done everything they've asked," he said cautiously. "What do ye think they want now?"

Davy Jones reached into his pocket and pulled out his pipe. "I don't know," he answered, taking a few quick puffs after lighting it. "But they need to realize the Captian of The Flying Dutchman cannot be summoned like some slave."

Suddenly, Jones appeared on the bow of the British ship, standing right in front of the signalman. He blew a cloud of smoke into the sailor's face. He could tell the sailor was frightened out of his mind, as most were when they lay eyes on the devil himself.

"What do ye want?"

TAG: Hammer, Mitt

 

OOC: Jango is there anyway you can incorporate me into the story so I can join your crew? I mean, when you're docking or something I could be sitting there shooting targets and you recruit me

 

OOC: Yeah, but you kind of have to be dying to join the crew. Or you can just already be on it.

 

OOC: Okay, here comes my uber-amazing death.

IC: Captain Garust

What to do... What to do... What to do!!?

Captain Garust was walking back and forth along the length of his dinghy utterly bored. He had been sailing the seven seas for months without a ship, nor a crew. He was desperate for some action.

"Oh Look! A British Ship! Let's attack it, shall we?"

Garust proceeded to unsheath his cutlass and charge erm... full speed at the British ship. He boarded the side ladder and walked about the ship.

"Oh dear, where is every..."

As he muttered these words, Garust was immediatly silenced by the sounds of many musket balls locking into their canons. The British crew proceeded to make him walk the plank with a sack of large rocks attatched to his back.

Garust sank to the bottom of the sea... wondering and waiting...


OOC: Lol, how's that.

TAG : Jango10

 

OOC: Remember to use Tag Pearl. In this case you would Tag Jango.

 

OOC: I can't answer it right now anyway, I'm kind of busy on a British ship.

 

OOC: If you decide to bring the Royal Navy back into the game, I_H, I can always bring my character "Worthington" back.

 

OOC: My graduation party schedule has sadly come to an end. But on a lighter note, I'm back. Absolutely wonderful movie, and it appears one of my characters has quite a bigger part to play than I realized.

IC: Teach
Location: Inn

"Up and at em swabs!"

Lord Matthew Teach awoke to the voluminous voice of Barbossa. The man sure liked yelling out orders... He managed to carry himself out of the table that he holed himself in for the night and picked the crust from his eyes.

The Captain started barking off orders left and right. Food, new linen for the sails...

Teach smiled: they were finally on their way. The nephew of Blackbeard swaggered forth from his little niche and up to old Barbossa. Currently, he was surrounded by two very Irish young men and that feisty barmaid.

Rather than brazenly cutting into his current conversation, Teach decided to hang back a bit and wait until Barbossa was done.

TAG: Barbossa

---

IC: Pintel and Ragetti

The duo arose from their slumber before realizing that they were clutching each other out in the middle of the Ponto de Leste street.

"Aghgh!" Pintel yelled in horror as he jumped up, accidentally kneeing Ragetti in the head as [i]he[/i] suddenly sat up as well.

[i]*pop*[/i]

A glass sphere suddenly flew from Ragetti's face and started rolling down the hill towards the inn.

"AH! Me eye!"

Ragetti jumped after it and started barrelling down the hill after it. He sprinted after it as the glass eye started slowing down, as it rolled into the Inn. Ragetti was sweating now, desperate to get his eye back. He [i]needed[/i] to get that eye back. As the eye rolled into the Inn, it managed to bounce its way under tables and chairs. With a one-track mind, Ragetti seemed to forget about the tables and chairs in the way and dove after it, crashing into those tables and chairs in the way.

With a good number of wooden splinters sticking out of his face and hands, Ragetti managed to stand, with his hand up triumphant with his prize.

"It's ok, Captain!" Ragetti said as he popped the glass eye back into his skull.

Pintel rushed into the Inn not far behind Ragetti, obviously winded.

TAG: Barbossa

 

First Mate Maccus

EITC Ship

Just as quickly as the Captain, Maccus reappeared next to his side and slightly behind his master. The signalman had the unfortunate luck to be on duty when they both appeared out of thin air. The first mate side stepped and around, drawing his pick-axe and holding it ready to defend his captain as several British soldiers came clammering across the deck to the bow.

"What do ye want?" he heard Davy Jones growl.

Maccus wanted to kill these men for their audacity just as much as the Captain wanted to take their souls and send them to an eternity of suffering in the Locker. The eagerness for bloodshed must have shown on his gastly hammerhead face, for the soldiers that approached took a wary step back and came no further.

Aye, ye should be scared and trembling on yer feet, he thought, pleased that they could still get a rise of fear out of them despite the fact that they control the Captain.

TAG: Jango, IH

 

GM's OOC:Post upcoming tonight, God willing.

-I_H

 

OOC: GM post pleasee

 

OOC: Patience is a virtue.

IC - Henry Page
Ponte de Leste

Henry bit his tongue to prevent himself from giving Moore a verbal thrashing. How could this man forget orders so quickly? "Moore, what were Barbossa's orders to ye? I seem to recall him telling you to purchase said items not three minutes ago."

Henry turned away, watching the butcher prepare the meat. Aristocrat? thought Henry, and he turned back to Moore.

"And another thing, I'm no aristocrat. You don't need money to appreciate some of the finer things in life, mate."

Henry leaned against the wall, and took out his copy of Macbeth. The cover was worn beyond compare, and the pages yellow from repeated readings. Every so often the corner of a page was folded in, marking some turn of phrase or idiom that Henry liked. As he gazed over the pages, he let out a sigh. He could feel his stress leaving him already.

Tag: Nick

 

IC: Robert Moore
Butcher's Shop

Robert smiled at Henry.

"Oh, I heard I just thought to tell you I was going."

When Henry turned away Robert muttered.

"Trust the scholarly to be moody, eh."

Robert left the shop and kept muttering under his breath about Henry.

"What a sore one. You'd think as a pirate he would'n get attached to things."

Robert walked into the Bakery just down the road and looked around. It smelled like Heaven in here. Robert gazed hungrily at the pastries but stayed focused. He walked past the rows of bread and grain foods to where the baker stood. He rattled off the items he needed. when he finished he looked back at the bread the nremembered.

"Oh, and, put that in barrels of tar, would you?"

Tag: Peng and I_H

 

GM's OOC: What a happily busy game....

Lets see, for you, Pearl, you'll have to wait until Jones comes and picks ya up. If thats too long for you, the rocks strapped to you can always become magically dislodged and then you can just tag me as you float aimlessly in the sea.

---

[color=green][b][u]Davy Jones Arc[/u][/b][/color]

[b]IC: Crew of the "Liberator"[/b]
[i]Location: At Sea, Atlantic[/i]

As Jones and Maccus stood aboard the deck of the Liberator, terrifying the flag men to their wits end, a team of armed British soldiers surrounded them, their muskets drawn and ready. Emerging from the wall of troops came a British Captain, wearing the traditional vestments of his position, including frock-coat and powdered wig.

"I bear a message from Lord Beckett." the man said, not hiding his disdain for the monstrosities that stood before him. The captain produced a rolled parchment and handed it to Jones.

"On it is written instructions of which I shall dictate thusly. Your new mission concerns one Eduardo Villaneuva. About three months ago, he and his crew vanished mysteriously from Barcelona. We also have reports that also around three weeks ago, a large contingent of ships bearing the flags of the Spanish Armada were spotted off the coast of Argentina, heading due South."

The Captain looked into Jones eyes...

"As we all know, the Armada was obliterated by the English fleet roughly a century ago. Your mission is to find Villaneuva and bring him to Justice. Start off the Argentine Coast and follow his trail. And Beckett gives strict orders not to harm the Spanish ships until you know they're pirates. England certainly doesn't need another war with Spain."

The Captain paused for questions...

[b]TAG: Jango, Mitth[/b]

[hr]

[color=red][b][u]Pirates Arc[/u][/b][/color]

[b]IC: Barbossa[/b]
[i]Location: In the Inn[/i]

Barbossa's assumption paid off as more people started to come into the inn...

First up was Mr. Turtle and a dazed Cotton. Oy what a mess that man was. They asked Barbossa what he wanted them to do...

"Take this derelict to the ship Mr. Turtle and get 'im sober. Then be ready to help the others load stuff into the ship."

Both the men were strong backs with questionable social skills. That would be the best place for em...

Next up came the barmaid now new Pirate of the group...

[color=red]"Anyway I can start to be of service, Cap'n?"[/color] she asked in her pretty little voice.

Barbossa smiled...

"See if yah can't procure fer us some more... specialty items... to enhance our cuisine. I'm sure a resourceful barmaid like yerself should know some sources."

A ruckus was then heard at the door, as Pintel and Ragetti burst in...

"Ahhh..." Barbossa said, smiling at the two Pirates. "Me ol' crew. I got a special job for you, quite befitting of yer talents. I want you to scout out this little town for a few choice.... targets... for we privateers to make a bit o' swag on the side. When we're ready to shove off, we'll make sure this lit'l town will have somethin ta remember us by."

[b]TAG: Dubya, Yane, Eme[/b]

[hr]
[b]IC: The Shipwright[/b]

The shipwright of Ponte de Leste sat in the back of his shop, much like he usually did every day in this sleepy town. It was a good thing the town had subsidized his living expenses, otherwise he would have to pick up and move to a place with more business.

So when the Shipwright heard voices from the counter, he nearly fell out of his chair he was so startled...

The unshaven man, still a little dazed, walked up to the counter, two Irish men standing in front of him...

"'ello." one said, while the other casted four gold coins on a tabletop. "How much Linen will that purchase?"

The shipwright picked up a coin and analyzed it. He bit it to make sure it was good...

"Hmm. Four dubloons eh?" he said, then turned around to walk into his shop. He'd sent in an order for linen a month ago, yet it hadn't came in yet. All that was left was the last few yards on his roll.

 

First Mate Maccus

Liberator

Now we're hunting ghost fleets? Maccus thought bitterly as he watched the wary soldiers with glaring eyes. He gripped his pick-axe tighter, wishing and hoping that the captain would give him the order to kill them all. He silently listened to the British Captain give out Jones new instructions and wondered why Beckett fretted over a potential war between England and Spain. It was not like they were flying the colors of England. If any survivors some how made it back to land and not to the depths or pressganged into the crew, all they would tell the Spanish King is a ghost ship with a cursed crew.

"Last I checked we carry the colors of no one," Maccus replied. "So how could a war break out when a ghost ship attacks a ghost fleet?"

TAG: Jango, IH

 

IC: Davy Jones

Jones puffed on his pipe a few times while he was listening to this Captain give orders to him, pretending to be in command. They involved tracking down a Spanish Captain and bringing him to justice. He then heard Maccus give a response. He decided to add to Maccus' bold response.

"We fly the colors of no one, and we are loyal to no one."


Justice, Jones thought, that word has a warped meaning in the mind of the British Empire. Their idea of justice is complete and total domination of the seas....

Knock! Knock!

"You may enter," a man sitting at a desk, focused on some papers said. "Ah, Mr. Davy Jones, have a seat."

"Evening governor," Jones responded, sitting down in a chair in front of the desk.

"What brings you here today?" the governor asked. "You know, the King is impressed with you Davy Jones. You are the finest privateer in the King's service."

"Thank-you, governor, but that is what I have come down here to talk to you about."

"About being a privateer?"

"Yes, sir. I remember upon the signing of my contract that I was promised thirty percent of the plunder I brought in."

The governor gave a puzzled look to Jones.

"I've noticed that I have not been getting my full share. In fact it is probably closer to twelve or fifteen percent."

"Well, you know the Empire is constantly at war, even if it is not official. These things are costly, and they require some sacrifices to be made."

"Sacrifices? At the expense of the best sailor in your service?"

"Mr. Jones, you have to realize you are working for the greater good. You are not only making money for yourself, you are making money for your King and country. And you are bringing justice to our enemies."

"Justice? I know what you do with the prisoners I bring in. And you call that justice?"

Jones began reaching into his jacket pocket.

"What are you doing?" the governor asked.

"Ending our contract," Jones answered, lighting the sheet of paper that contained the contract on fire, "I'm finished turning a profit for the King."

Jones stormed out of the office. The governor called to him, "Remember, Jones, you are no longer protected by the crown. If you continue to plunder the seas, you will be labeled as a pirate and an enemy of the king."


"So, tell me Captain," Jones began, "what is Beckett's interest in this Captain Villaneuva?"

He did not await an answer, he drew his sword and approached the Captain.

"And what is to keep me from massacring you and your crew and then going about my merry way? You do not have the chest."

TAG: Hammer, Mitt

 

Gibbs was still floating about his night with the lovly Ms Tia, he would have to do that again.

He came into the inn and asked Barbossa.


"What'll you have of me captain?"

Tag: Barbossa

 

IC: Captain Garust

Garust lay at the bottom of the sea... still waiting for something miraculous to happen. It did not come. It seemed that the miracle had other characters to attend to! Feeling left out, Garust lay in wait at the bottom of the sea.

 

Pearl, you could have simply said you were already part of the crew rather than wait to join that crew if you're that impatient.

First Mate Maccus

Liberator

"And what is to keep me from massacring you and your crew and then going about my merry way? You do not have the chest." Jones had said and Maccus had a gleeful grin upon his hammerhead face, very eager to kill these mortals.

"Lets call de rest of de crew and kill 'em, Capt'n," the lust for blood was obvious in his tone. He flicked his pick-axe in his hand, waiting for the word from the Captain. "Beckett never did say we couldn'ta kill de messengers. Hehe," he added, clearly remembering the terms that were given to his Captain that night.

TAG: Jango, IH

 

OOC: Lol, I wanted to make it more realistic.

 

Lets keep OOCs down to a minimum please.

If you want to chat about the game, use PMs...

And Davy Jones faction post coming maybe tonight?

-I_H

 

JimmyLegs-Flying Dutchman

JimmyLegs walked the deck of the Dutchman, a regular whip in hand. He kept looking at the Liberator, Maccus and the Captain were on it. He walked up to the top deck and looked down at the crew. "What are you weasels doin'? Back to work all of ya!" The Flying Dutchman's Bo'sun shouted. Immeditaly all the crew went back to their tasks. JimmyLegs looked back at the Liberator before whipping the Hermit Crab Oriental for slacking off.

Tag: Any

 

Davy Jones Arc

IC: Captain of the Liberator
Location: Deck of the Liberator

The Captain narrowed his eyes as the monster from Jones' crew talked about killing him and the ship. Beckett certainly was right in his characterization of them when they had met in Nevis. Brutal, mindless killing machines. Two British soldiers stepped in front of the Captain, bayonets at the ready, as Jones advanced, sword in hand.

The Captains' response to Jones was ice-cold.

"Whats stopping you from killing us right here Mister Jones, is that Lord Beckett knows exactly where I am and what we're doing. The British Navy keeps very close track of the locations of its vessels. If you kill us, it will not be too amazingly difficult for Lord Beckett to surmise the cause of our deaths. And rest assured he will not be pleased."

The tension was palpable...

"As to your questions, your lack of colors in the end matters little. The reason why you don't attack the Spanish ships is quite simple. You're a ghost ship exactly because no one believes you exist. Thats what makes you a legend. If you attack any legitimate navy, Spanish, French, or otherwise, your legend shatters. Its easy enough to prey on Pirate ships, because no one believes Pirates. But when throngs of legitimate naval personnel come, all telling the same story, all attesting to your existence, believe me you will be a ghost ship no longer.

As to Villanueva, Beckett has interest in all the comings and goings of the Pirate Lords. He wants them exterminated, and he can't very well do that with them running around all over the oceans."

The Captain and crew waited for Jones' next move in this seemingly complex game of threats and bluffs...

TAG: Jango and Mitth

 

Henry Page
Butcher/Baker

Henry pocketed his book again, ignoring Moore's comments. He turned to the butcher, a surly gent, who had the meat ready.

"Box it up, mate." He fished in his pocket for a coin of his own. "There's two more if'n ye can get it done quick-fast."

He turned to Moore. "Once we're done here, we get back to the boat double-quick. At least, I do. You want to take your time, feel free, it's your funeral."

Henry needed to get off this rock.

Tag: Nick, Imp

 

IC: Robert Moore
Bakery/Butchery

Robert looked at Henry. He lifted his hand and was about to speak but thought better. Ought not to instigate him, Robert thought. He dropped his hand and shook his head. He turned on his heel and paused. He glanced back then shook his head again and left. Robert walked briskly down the road. He hurried to the blacksmith and asked for tar-lined barrels. The blacksmith walked away to fill the order after taking the paper.

Robert sat staring at the swords and tapping his heels until the blacksmith came back. When he did with the barrels, Robert spent a few minutes transporting them back to the bakery. When he finished he entered the Bakery and walked up to where Henry still stood. He decided to try for more conversation.

"So, uh, a fan of Shakespeare, are you?"

Tag: I_H, Peng