The Spanish Bane

[Tseranc]

The Spanish Bane slid through the calm clear waters with grace and speed. Her ivory sails taut, the rigging creaking slightly at the strain her captain's standard swaying in the breeze - a skull with two crossed cannon below. The men scurried about the deck in preparations for going ashore.

They were but a few miles out off a little known isle in the Bahamas, and it was only used by some less savory Gentlemen Of Fortune. Even so, Captain Garret Cosgrove, or “Capt’n Guns Cosgrove” as he liked his reputation to spread, had no fear of any character he might find there.

The Island had no dock, but a large beach hidden well by natural rock formations, and trees to either side where smaller ship would come to beach and clean their hulls. Larger ships, like the Snow that was the Spanish Bane, weighed anchor further out, and the crews replenished their stores of fresh meat and water and some fruits and vegetables by rowing ashore.

And such replenishing was Cosgrove’s plan for this trip. They had set sail from Tortuga and found no Spanish ships of worth prey on. With supplies low and the crews enthusiasm likewise, it was time to restock, then head into a real port later this month for news. If they were lucky, they might find a prize on the way home.

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Character info:

Captain Garret “Guns” Cosgrove – master of the Spanish Bane.
Long Brown hair that match is sole patch and mustache
Blue Eyes
6 foot tall
29 years old

He wore a modified British admiral’s coat – blue with black , and silver trim – the silver forged from captured Spanish coin. A large hat, resembling that of a musketeer or Captain Morgan (the one on the rum bottle, not the real guy) with many long feathers of just as many colors shooting from the back of the folded side. He had a slight limp, from a musket shot to the right leg some years ago. He wore a cutlass on his left hip and flint lock pistols in as many places else as possible.

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Thread Info: This thread is currently closed for me and the pirate lass – at least for now. I’ll not spoil who that is for the rest of ya! Hope you all enjoy, and PM’s are welcome for ideas, thoguths about the story/setting/characters/ect.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Nereida “Nueve Dedos” Adora Isabella Valencia.

The daughter of Cuba's governor Hector Valencia, Nereida was taken with her father's ship by French Buccaneers as she was sailing to New Spain (Mexico) to attend a party being thrown by a friend she had met in Spain.

They tried to ransom her to her father, and he at first refused. They cut the pinkie off her left hand and sent that to him, and he still refused, responding he would rather have her sent to him limb by limb than to pay for her release.

Her disbelief turned to sorrow, her sorrow to anger, her anger to hatred. The French pirates were not sure what to do with her, until she rather unexpectedly joined them in an assault on a Spanish ship, and showed an eerie natural talent for killing.

She was accepted, with some confusion, by the crew, and she came to be respected as an equal to any on the ship. As a year became two, she became to be accepted as a leader by the men, and killed the previous captain.

Taking control of the ship and crew, she conducted a campaign against her father, which culminated in an ambush. One of her father’s ships was screening two Spanish warships, which surrounded the French pirate vessel and pounded it with cannon fire til it sank.

Nereida somehow managed to swim to a nearby island, where she survived for several weeks before a ship flying a flag with a skull and crossed cannon dropped anchor to take on fresh supplies ....

 

[Tseranc]

The small boats rowed ashore, at the head of the first stood the Captain. It did the men good to stretch their legs on something other then a rocking deck, and so as many as could be spared went on the hunt. A team for water, a team for meat and a team for berries fruits and such.

They hit the shore and leapt to their tasks, while Garret took some maps and chats his spyglass to the top of rocky outcropping to look for other ships and plan the next leg of the journey.

The men had made much progress, living under Garret’s command. Most pirates, privateers, or other such titles of men who would serve on a ship such as the Spanish Bane, were used to a rather relaxed environment, with little discipline. But not here. Here Ol’ Guns Cosgrove ran a tight ship. For him looting Spanish ships was not a matter of an income, but a quest to hurt the Spanish crown. Also the fact he owned the ship prevented the normal piracy system of electing the captain. He was master of the vessel and mission, the crew was along for their share of the loot.

Looking about through the spyglass, he noticed no other ships along the horizon. No storms seemed to be headed this way. Nothing but clear skies, calm seas, and a beautiful island. But wait! He saw something move along the beach further down….but it was too far out to determine what. An animal? Another person?

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Nereida had moved into the thick brush of the forest. She recognized the "Spanish Bane," and knew the reputation of its captain, "Guns Cosgrove." She was uncertain what to do. On the one hand, he could be a useful ally. They both shared hatred, though she hated only her "father," if she could still call the bastard that had conceived her in her mother's body a relative.

In contrast, he might recognise her, and try to ransom her again. With no more success, doubtless, than those French dogs.

Nereida hefted the knife that was her only current weapon. The only other thing she had was the tattered linen dress she wears now. She had survived with ease, hunting the small mammals that were common on this island and gathering the tree-nuts and the berries that grew on the low bushes. Doubtless, these pirates were coming for those very resources.

She decided to remain hidden for now. See what Cosgrove and his crew did, before revealing her presence....

 

[Tseranc]

Capt'n Guns

Having inspected the surrounding seas to his satisfaction, he limped back down to where the crew had been depositing the various results of their tasks. Already several decent sized birds had been captured, fish caught, and other small animals successfully hunted – all being loaded on the jolly boats to restock the ship.

He never did make out what the shadowy figure was that ducked back into the tree line, but if it were human, it would surely make an ill fated attempt to capture the goods being gathered here on the beach. And since Captain Cosgrove was a morbidly curious man, he told no other about it, had no extra crew posted to guard the new stores. He helped load the goods, directed where various members could best be useful, and went along like nothing could be wrong with the island.

Later that evening the crew had earned their rest. The ship’s stores nearly full, and enough extra gathered to make for a fine feast on the beach. Since the last ship they raided had God’s own shipment of rum, the men could enjoy their poison straight – not the water/rum mixture of grog. Tonight would be food, drink, probably some drunken song; sung by the Quartermaster, whist the cook played his guitar. It would be a pleasant night for all. Most would likely pass out on the sand to finish off their drunken stupor…none noticed that the Captain himself indulged far less tonight.

When he drifted off to sleep propped up against a tree, he looked to be as completely taken by the sandman as any other; which contrasted his alert ears and his hangs gripping a pistol in each pocket.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Nereida waited til the English pirates were all asleep, then came out of hiding for a moment, to get food, and see if there were any useful goods amongst the dead-drunk pirates.

She had grabbed a partial loaf of bread, some cheese, and and a partial bottle of rum. Before eating, she saw the captain sleeping against a tree. She glanced at him, and shrugged. He wasn't unattractive. Dashing perhaps.

She went close by him, sneaking, and froze when something snapped beneath her foot ....

 

[Tseranc]

Cosgrove

He had heard the snap…he had half heard the rummaging around before that, but truth be told – it had been a long voyage, and sleeping upon something that didn’t roll with the wave had been too pleasant for his body to abandon entirely.

But the snap of a branch under foot was enough to bring him too – though he didn’t move at first; waiting a few seconds until the bandit dared move again, in false thanks that they hadn’t bothered a soul.

His eyes were still covered by his large hat when the would be thief in the night moved once more…and that when he decided to announce himself…quietly, as to not wake his men. He just casually locked his pistols then spoke.

“It be a might rude thar matey t’ be runnin’ off with another man’s rum.”

At this he sat up, his hat falling into his lap, as his pistols came forth to present themselves to the newcomer. It took his still sleepy mind several seconds to realize what he gazed on was not a man, but a woman! The remnants of a dress hanging from a petite frame.

“Well by the mysteries of Davy Jones! What be a lass doin’ on this here isle?” He saw the look on her face…quite the attractive face he noticed…debating whether to bolt for the woods or not. He brandished his pistols in a more menacing mannor, “Now don’t be a runnin’ lass, I’d hate to have to send me boys out to catch ya.”

He paused, waiting for her decision, “What be yer name lass?”

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Nothing. She took a breath again, and took another step.

CLICK!

“It be a might rude thar matey t’ be runnin’ off with another man’s rum.”

She froze again. Two pistols.

“Well by the mysteries of Davy Jones! What be a lass doin’ on this here isle?”

She considered darting off into the jungle. She tried to figure, would she be able to hide until these pirates gave up trying to find her?

“Now don’t be a runnin’ lass, I’d hate to have to send me boys out to catch ya.”

They were both silent for a tense moment.

“What be yer name lass?”

"Isabella. I was aboard a ship, that was attacked and was sunk. I managed to swim here, Señor Cosgrove. Sí, I know who you are. Señor, for weeks, I have lived here on fruits and nuts without bread, cheese, or rum. I mean no harm, but am near to starving."

 

[Tseranc]

Cosgrave


"Isabella. I was aboard a ship, that was attacked and was sunk. I managed to swim here, Señor Cosgrove. Sí, I know who you are. Señor, for weeks, I have lived here on fruits and nuts without bread, cheese, or rum. I mean no harm, but am near to starving."

He considered her statement, and pondered for a moment, lowing one pistol entirely, and moving the other to a less threatening position, yet still pointed at the young woman.

“Well lass, it be seemin’ to me that ya have some more tale to tell. The last ship sunk near these islands that I recall hearin’ about, be a French ship, and if sea tales be more then idle chat, then that ship was captained by a woman.”

He motioned for her to sit.

“Sit lass, and tell me yer tale. Tis been awhile since I’ve heard a bed time story!”

He chuckled at his own joke, but careful to keep it low enough from waking the men. He wanted to make his own determination of this girl before they woke and started spouting off their sea superstitions, or their lust got the better of any thinking at all.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

She sat, and glanced at the bottle of rum she held.

"I ... Yes. Yes, the ship was the Trois Crânes, or Three Skulls, captained by Nereida “Nueve Dedos.” Nine Fingers."

She holds up her left hand, so he can see the four fingers on that hand. The stub that was her pinky has healed over.

She shrugs.

"My name is Isabella, and I have been stranded here for weeks. Captain Cosgrove ... I would forever be in your debt, were you to take mercy upon me."

She closes her eyes, sighing softly.

 

[Tseranc]

At seeing the woman not only claim, but prove – in a manner – that she was the late captain of the ill fated Trois Crânes he could not repress his amused grin.

“So, Captain Nereida, or Isabella, which ever ya prefer to bein’ called; as I recall yer path to piracy was one dedicated to hurtin’ yer father. I’ve been hearin’ stories ‘bout you, huntin’ these waters fer revenge. I was ne’r sure I believed ‘em, but seein’ ya hear in the flesh….”

He looked the girl up and down, inspecting said flesh in the moon light, and was pleased

“..I find me-self inclined to count yer stories as true.”

He stroked the patch of hair on his chin with his free hand while he pondered what to do next.

“Truth be told, we had a bit o’ poor luck in our last raid, and lost a man to his own stupidity – bastard slipped from the boarding plank with an arm full o’ loot. He broke his neck against the hull during the fall, and took his lot with him to his watery grave. As such, I be havin’ an opening aboard, if ye wish to sign my articles, we’ll take you on as crew – if ya can stomach firing on any Spanish vessel – not just those of yer father.”

 

[shadowoftheheart]

She opened her eyes, and looked at him slightly surprised.

"Join with you? I would have to see your Articles, Señor Cosgrove. And I would have to know, how would your men react? As to firing upon Spanish ships: The Trois Crânes made her living on Spanish gold."

Her surprise was replaced by a fierce glint.

"What harms Spain, harms my father."

She took a bite of bread, and then of cheese.

 

[Tseranc]

Cosgrove

He grinned at her response, and her calm demeanor. Few women he’d ever met could continue to eat while held at gunpoint. He decided he liked her, for now, and it was time to introduce the crew.

He sprang up, withdrew his left pistol once more, and fired it into the air – waking all the drunk men laid out across the beach. Some confusion came of it, but his voice soon bellowed over all the shouts of disorganized men.

“Look here mateys! We be having a late night visitor! May I introduce to ya, Nereida, captain of the late Trois Crânes!”

Several looked at the woman with lust, others with fear, others with anger over being woken over a woman of the captains. The Mate just scowled at her.

“Men, be fetchin’ some light to read by, and the articles fer signin’ me new friend here, be in need of a new home, other then this isle, and her passage aboard be no different an arrangement then any else.”

Quickly they produced a crate to lay the articals on, and a few lanters were lit. Mumblings went on throughout the crew. Comments about bad luck having women aboard ship, or how fine she’d look below each man, or how she couldn’t perform her duties were all whispered. The captain heard them, but felt no need to address them as of yet. They’d follow orders, just as she would, or there would be yet more open positions aboard.

They set the articles before her on the crate.


Articles:

1. This be no traditional pyratical ship – it be paid fer by me, Garret Cosgrove, and thus I remain the captain.

2. All other crew be signing these articles, and agreeing therein to reamin aboard for 6 months. After six months, one can leave at next port of call, with their share, or sign for another six months, they share being awarded fer previous duties.

3. Again with this ship occasionally operating under proper papers, having His Majesties’ blessing to hunt the Spaniards, discipline shall be enforced – do yer duty, do it timely, and do it without drunkenness. Drink off duty only.
4. This ship preys only on Spanish vessels, or those hired to carry Spanish goods under another flag. No such vessel shall be free, either it is looted, or it is sent to Ol’ Davy Jones.

5. Rank be having it’s privilege and responsibilities; as such the shares shall go as thus:

a. The Captain gets 4 shares, as the captain also maintains the costs fer the ship.
b. The Mate gets 2 shares, and is charged with maintaining discipline
c. The Quartermaster gets 2 shares and is charges with maintaining the inventory
d. All other crew get one share.

Disregard fer any article above is grounds fer actions deemed appropriate by the Mate and the Captain.


“Well now lass, be these terms enough to yer liking, or shall I fetch ya a pistol, so ya be marooned properly?”

 

[shadowoftheheart]

She frowns once or twice, but looks Cosgrove firmly in the eyes.

"My captain, I would rather serve under you against the Spanish than to remain here on this island, eating nuts and fruits like a monkey. I will sign your articles."

She took another swig of rum, and glanced around at the men about to become her ship-mates. She met their gazes without fear, whatever emotions they held. She had seen these glances before, and knew she would be able to handle these men. She had commanded men not unlike them before.

She finished off the bread and cheese, and signed her name ....

 

[Tseranc]

There was something evocative about her use of the words ‘My Captain’, and it sent a pleasant sensation throughout his blood. He grinned as she signed, and was glad for it. Truth be told he’d have given any a ride off the isle – to maroon one who also fired on Spain was too cruel a fate – but at her signing, at least she’d have the right to be treated like a crewmate, vs. having to ‘earn her passage’ another way.

The Mate came up behind him, and whispered in his ear, “Capt’n I don’t like this one bit…a woman crewmate? She’ll ne’r hold her own, and tis a poor fate awaits those that take women to sea! She’s an albatross I tell ya!”

Old Jim the One Eye had been 1st Mate for nearly 4 voyages now…an old sea dog, salty as the sea herself. He’d managed the discipline well in that time, but he and the captain still had a great many issues between them. First Ol’ Jimmy was truly a pirate of the worst degree, and figured any ship who they come across should be taken, and the ships looted should be manned, to create a squad of pirates…all the more fearsome. The former crews forced to sign on or walk the plank.

“That’s enough for now, we’ll watch her, see how she does…any who turn on their father in such a manner, survived his trap, and be swimmin’ to shore here earned my curiosity.” He had whispered back to Jim.

Then louder for the consumption of all, “Now, we be a full crew again, and the sun be starting to rise! All ya swabs get to packin’ the ship, we weigh anchor as soon as we are able!”

He watched his crew work…the interaction with the new member. It would be a rough few days surely. He thought more on the man he lost…he was assigned to the number one gun, starboard side…and so she would take that spot. The furthest from the captains eyes.

Stores were loaded, and the last jolly boat rowed to the Spanish Bane, Cosgrove aboard. They weighed anchor near noon, and slipped from the island out into the endless blue.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Isabella pulled her own weight, and then some. She had felt the stares, of fear, hatred, and lust. She had known all too well that many of these men, worthy sea-dogs though they be, had an unreasoning fear of a woman being aboard ship. She had many things to fight against, and the fact that she had faced them all before didn't make them any lighter or easier this time around.

She joined the rest of the crew in the boats, rowing with a strong, practiced stroke along with the rest.

She got aboard ship, and immediately felt at home. The rocking of the deck beneath her (now bare) feet, the smell of salt-water, intimate and pervasive even beyond the smell on the island's beach. The sounds of the pirates hoisting the sail and weighing anchor. The feeling of her muscles being worked, as she pitched in with the men. She started to feel alive once more.

 

[Tseranc]

He watched, as best he could while not being obvious, at Isabella’s work. He was impressed, she seemed bound and determined to prove herself. After they had sailed on past the sunset, and all eaten their meal according to their shift, the captain called for her.

Miss Isabella, if Ya’s be so kind as to join me in my cabin!” he called out from the quarterdeck, and turned before a reply could be issued, and walked into his cabin.

This of course elicited jeers from the crew, and he found it somewhat amusing, but also somewhat distasteful. But the Spanish Bane was home to few scruples, and beyond each man doing his duty, Cosgrove imposed his views on none.

But whatever the crew my think was Cosgrove’s motive for inviting the lass inside, it was really all business. He wanted to know what she knew. Maybe she knew of a target in the area…or a schedule that her fathers ships kept that he was previously unaware of. He wanted to see how well she;d help plan against her own kind.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

Isabella walked back toward the captain's cabin with dignity despite the jeers and cat-calls from the pirates around her. She smirked, noting how little difference there was between sailors: Merchant or pirate, English, French or Spanish. They were all basically the same.

She knocked on the door, and entered his cabin.

"You wished to see me, my captain?"

She stood at a loose attention, waiting for him to speak to her....

 

[Tseranc]

“Come in, and make yerself comfortable,” he motioned toward a chair in front of his desk.

He rolled out a rather detailed map of the entire Spanish main, with several marks on it indicating where safe havens were, as well as typical routes taken by various nations vessels. It was a map not often seen by the crew.

He pointed out their current position.

“This be where we are now, and this be the isle we found ya. I’m eager fer to be taking a prize before we pull in to our next port, and be wondering if ya had any information which may help that endeavor.”

He gazed up from the map, and was taken back slightly at how truly wonderful she looked. A rare treat aboard ship to see a real woman, despite what the Mate said.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

She nodded, and sat in the indicated chair. She glanced at the map, taking it in quickly.

“This be where we are now, and this be the isle we found ya. I’m eager fer to be taking a prize before we pull in to our next port, and be wondering if ya had any information which may help that endeavor.”


"I have. It is nearing the time of the month for my father's shipment of gold and sugar back to Spain. He has his ships sail from here, along this path, to the open sea lanes. His ships are heavy laden, but also well protected. One or two merchants will sail with two warships from the Spanish Crown."

She pointed out a couple promising, but less lucrartive, routes as well ....

 

[Tseranc]

He took another swig of his rum, and looked over the map in places she had indicated. They could sail near the more lucrative targets she mentioned, without committing to an engagement, and if the firepower was too much in favor of the Spaniards, then they could proceed to one of her smaller recommendations. But deception and weather had helped them before…and Cosgrove knew the area fairly well.

“Thank ya my dear, I think we’ll be tryin’ one of the larger marks…we can be in the area inside of two days, winds willing.”

He was convinced the rum was getting to him, for all the jeers and comments issued by his crew as she had come back to the cabin, had started sounding more and more like good ideas…but an animal he was not. He once lived among the nobles and civilized men, and still counted himself a gentleman of sorts.

“So, how do ya find yer accommodations?” he didn’t ask what the men thought, but he did expect any reports of violence aboard ship – of any nature.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

"They are ... not what I am used to. A bunk, in amongst the others. It is too hard, and I do not know how well I will sleep tonight. But I have endured far worse."

She reflexively rubs her left hand ....

 

[Tseranc]

He withdrew a rather ornate dagger, and stuck it into the desk in front of her.

“Take this. I prey ya be not needin’ it, but if matters do get out of hand t’night down in the forecastle, use it, and report any acts of aggression to me.” He locked gazes with her, “Immediately.”

He maintained the eye contact a few seconds to emphasize the point, as well as silently convey that he was trying to look out for her. Then he abruptly went back to his rum, and wave her off, “Yer dismissed. We’ll see how well these plans of yer’s gets us. Thank ya fer coming.”

He resorted to speaking as though he was indifferent to her unique situation, maybe to try to convince himself he was. Maybe it was a poor idea to bring her aboard…at least as crew….

As she left, he crawled into bed, the previous night earning little good rest waiting for what turned out to be Isabella to enter his camp.

 

[shadowoftheheart]

She nearly mentioned that she already had a knife ... then decided against it. She grabbed the dagger firmly, and pulled it out of the table.

"Thank you, my captain."

“Yer dismissed. We’ll see how well these plans of yer’s gets us. Thank ya fer coming.”

She nodded, and left, securing the dagger in the same place she had hidden her knife.

She climbed down the steps to the bowels of the ship, and worked her way to her bunk. Stretching, she settled into her bed, still wearing her tattered dress and weapons. She was asleep almost instantly ....

 

[Tseranc]

Ol' Jim the One Eye

And while she slept, so soundly from the days labors, other members of the crew had a restlessness…a malicious restlessness aimed directly at Isabella. Leading the party of pirates toward her bunk was none other then the Mate – Ol’ Jim the One Eye. His followers were not many – only two other fools drunk enough to listen to him, yet sober enough to still walk.

The bunks were little more then hammocks, hung up along the walls during the day, stretched out between the bulkheads at night. Some stretching across the guns, others above barrels, some just hung above each other. Only three men aboard had anything truly resembling a bed; The Mate, how had a closet sized cabin, the cook, who had his rack near the kitchen…and the Captain – who had an actual bed worthy of the name.

They inched toward her particular hammock – very near the bow of the ship – which left few places to run. Jim’s hands were nearly over her throat when one of his drunk accomplices stumbled over a role of line (large rope), and cursing loudly about it…waking nearly all in the forecastle….

“You fool! Hurry, grab her!” was all the Mate could say to the sudden change in plan.