Into The West, North, East, or South — The Choice Is YoursPosted: October 30, 2012
Arrrrrr, me mateys. This be yer Captain speakin’.
I be here t’ speak th’ tales o’ yer adventurin’ bones t’ th’ world. My wee birdies be makin’ sure I be aware o’ yer movements an’, so far, I be proud o’ ye. I be seein’ ye be havin’ already been introduced t’ th’ Th’ Black Skull, a sla’er ou’ o’ Port Vlore in West Africa. Barbarians an’ thieves — all o’ them! ‘Tis a miracle ye made ‘t t’ th’ South reaches o’ th’ Old Atlantic. I would bet some o’ ye be lucky t’ nay ben used fer devious means an’ tossed o’er th’ side. Th’ Six Winds best be smilin’ upon ye in th’ comin’ days.
But how did ye end up at th’ openin’ o’ a large waterlogged cavern below th’ thick walls o’ Th’ Blue Diamond Prison? Ye began this chapter o’ yer adventurin’ on th’ coat tails o’ another. Havin’ been captured, kidnapped, an’ otherwise delayed from yer usual lives, ye found yourselves together on th’ the slave ship Th’ Black Skull. A metal monster, I must say. ‘Tis a beast from th’ Old World. Carried th’ black dubloon we`ve heard much about. Dasn’t be seein’ much ‘t any more. Special, ’tis.
Ye spent several tides trapped below decks in bilge water-covered cages. Poked by many manner o’ stick. Ye be treated about as well as th’ livestock aboard an’ fed about th’ same. ‘t be a terrible voyage. Calm seas be wee an’ ocean waves battered th’ ship all th’ way t’ yer bones. When ‘t seemed as tho yer days be t’ end in th’ belly o’ that steel beast, yer hosts informed ye that ye had been sold t’ th’ township o’ Lost Haven. Ye be t’ be guests o’ th’ Blue Diamond Prison an’ forced t’ work in whatereway th’ city demanded o’ yer flesh an’ soul.
This brings us t’ now.
Upon arrival, ye made yer way up through th’ bowels o’ th’ dark prison. Ye be processed an’ locked in yer cells. Damp walls, rats, an’ th’ smell o’ rot be yer bedside companions as ye attempted t’ rest. Th’ tides at sea tookst a toll on yer body an’ ye be happy t’ be landed once again.
In th’ mornin’, ye made yer way t’ th’ main yard o’ th’ prison. All be lined up fer assignment o’ yer first tide o’ duties. Ye would ben gi’en some form o’ manual labour, o’ course. Th’ details lined up fer th’ new arrivals be known as Th’ Breakers. Ye would ben assigned t’ clist th’ pits from th’ bilge water-houses.
That be… if ye had made ‘t t’ roll call. Lucky fer yer weary bodies, roll call be interrupted by a visit from th’ Dread Crimson Fleet. They be followin’ th’ sla’er since th’ overnight avast in Lower Tortuga. They kept they’s self a tide behind t’ disco’er any choice targets on th’ slaver`s route. ‘t appears Lost Ha’en got the’r attention.
Th’ shells from th’ eight Man-o-War`s cannons did a lot o’ damage an’ very smartly, didna they? When news o’ yer escape arrived, I expected t’ read about at least one gruesome Davy Jones’ locker but ‘t looks like ye be havin’ done well an’ kept yer wits about ye. Wi’ a lull in th’ initial bombardment, ye all made ‘t t’ th’ lower docks deep within th’ prison. (I be seein’ ye found a wee souls t’ brin’ along. That be good. Ye will need them.)
Once below ye had a wee problems wi’ th’ local guard population an’ they cut down a wee o’ yer numbers but, once ye opened th’ iron gate, ye be homeport free. Or so ye thought. Ye captured th’ Blue Diamond Prison`s workin’ vessel, th’ Cavern Princess, an’ managed t’ sail ou’ o’ th’ cavern… into th’ sights o’ th’ Dread Crimson`s Fleet bombardment.
Ye be lucky. They chose t’ ignore ye or ’tis possible they didna be seein’ ye at all. Th’ Cavern Princess be nay such a large vessel. ‘Tis conceivable ye gave them th’ slip.
But now, ye find yourselves adrift, wi’ a wee crew, an’ a taste fer adventure on th’ high seas. I await me next letter detailin’ yer exploits. Oh, I do fear I ortin’ ta tell ye somethin’ I heard from one o’ me wee birds.
Whispers on th’ ocean breeze speak o’ th’ Gentleman o’ fortune Kin’ an’ his wrath… ye shall need t’ be cautious in th’ days t’ come.
For them o’ ye who dasn’t understand a word I be sayin’, here be me words in modern speak.
Arrrrrr, me mateys. This be your Captain speaking.
I am here to speak the tales of your adventuring bones to the world. My little birdies are making sure I am aware of your movements and, so far, I am proud of you. I see you have already been introduced to the The Black Skull, a slaver out of Port Vlore in West Africa. Barbarians and thieves — all of them! It is a miracle you made it to the South reaches of the Old Atlantic. I would bet some of you are lucky to not have been used for devious means and tossed over the side. The Six Winds best be smiling upon you in the coming days.
But how did you end up at the opening of a large waterlogged cavern below the thick walls of The Blue Diamond Prison? You began this chapter of your adventuring on the coat tails of another. Having been captured, kidnapped, and otherwise delayed from your usual lives, you found yourselves together on the the slave ship The Black Skull. A metal monster, I must say. It is a beast from the Old World. Carried the black gold we’ve heard much about. Don’t see much it any more. Special, it is.
You spent several weeks trapped below decks in shit-covered cages. Poked by many manner of stick. You were treated about as well as the livestock aboard and fed about the same. It was a terrible voyage. Calm seas were few and ocean waves battered the ship all the way to your bones. When it seemed as though your days were to end in the belly of that steel beast, your hosts informed you that you had been sold to the township of Lost Haven. You were to be guests of the Blue Diamond Prison and forced to work in whatever way the city demanded of your flesh and soul.
This brings us to now.
Upon arrival, you made your way up through the bowels of the dark prison. You were processed and locked in your cells. Damp walls, rats, and the smell of rot were your bedside companions as you attempted to rest. The weeks at sea had taken a toll on your body and you were happy to be landed once again.
In the morning, you made your way to the main yard of the prison. All were lined up for assignment of your first day of duties. You would have been given some form of manual labour, of course. The details lined up for the new arrivals are known as The Breakers. You would have been assigned to clean the pits from the shit-houses.
That is… if you had made it to roll call. Lucky for your weary bodies, roll call was interrupted by a visit from the Dread Crimson Fleet. They were following the slaver since the overnight stop in Lower Tortuga. They kept themselves a day behind to discover any choice targets on the slaver’s route. It appears Lost Haven got their attention.
The shells from the eight Man-o-War’s guns did a lot of damage and very quickly, didn’t they? When news of your escape arrived, I expected to read about at least one gruesome death but it looks like you have done well and kept your wits about you. With a lull in the initial bombardment, you all made it to the lower docks deep within the prison. (I see you found a few souls to bring along. That is good. You will need them.)
Once below you had a few problems with the local guard population and they cut down a few of your numbers but, once you opened the iron gate, you were home free. Or so you thought. You captured the Blue Diamond Prison’s working vessel, the Cavern Princess, and managed to sail out of the cavern… into the sights of the Dread Crimson’s Fleet bombardment.
You were lucky. They chose to ignore you or it is possible they didn’t see you at all. The Cavern Princess is not such a large vessel. It is conceivable you gave them the slip.
But now, you find yourselves adrift, with a small crew, and a taste for adventure on the high seas. I await my next letter detailing your exploits. Oh, I do fear I should tell you something I heard from one of my little birds.
Whispers on the ocean breeze speak of the Pirate King and his wrath… you shall need to be cautious in the days to come.