The Blackest Dawn

[Davey_Jones]

Hi, newbie here, just inspired to write a bit of a yarn by the great game that is Pirates!. I humbly offer it up for your delectation and delight...

Black Dawn

The Inn at Midnight

I'll always remember that the weather was unnaturally calm that night, and the light and sounds of the "Tardy Goat" tavern drifted across the bay - the drunken mirth of many a sailor carried far and wide, and the rancid accordian screeched through the night, a coarse whining cry that sounded supernatural from a distance, like an animal - or man - being torn apart by the inquisition. A storm raged far out to sea, but in this sheltered inlet peace reigned, only occasionally spiked by the flashes and growls from the horizon. A warmth and oppressiveness held the very breath in your lungs and the ale flowed freely to quench the parched throats of the ne'er do wells clustered round that reeking tavern like barnacles on a hull. Little did anyone know that this night, an insignificant trading post was sitting at the eye of a bloody tornado which raged around them. This was the calm in the centre of the storm, and the reasons for why are still discussed around the yards and sugar plantations of the Spanish Main.
In the late, moonless black, a ship had sidled up to the dock, smoking and half-sunk, it's sails torn to shreds. It moved almost silently, giving only token creaks as it meandered toward the dock. No crew could be seen on board, and the smoke hung low over the carcass of a hull - the weather windless as it was. The harbour-master was asleep in the tower, his pipe dangling precariously from his lips, and the dock workers were involved in a particularly intense round of brag in the warehouse. Even the wharf rats failed to look up from chewing the fish entrails and waste that was strewn over the edge of the dock to see the ghostly sloop butt the walkways and list alarmingly against the stone dock. The mast lolled at a 45-degree angle, the prow of the ship deep in the brine, and only then could an observant person see movement - a groaning, laboured movement - over the side of the stricken ship and on to the unforgiving timber of the dock. For some minutes, the figure of a man struggled to stand, and then made his way laboriously to the tavern, stumbling and wheezing violently. In the dark, he was virtually invisible, and it was only when he had collapsed some yards from the warm embrace of the inn that he was spotted and dragged in. Rough hands clawed at him, and his battered senses were assaulted again by the stench of rum and tobacco. He was thrown into a snug where the residents could see him better. Lanterns were brought and shone at him, examining his wounds and clothing. A multitide of excited voices filled the air.. some hushed in awe of the wounds he had suffered, some dismissive or angry.

"'e don't look like a Spaniard."
"Yer never know - e' could be in disguise. They landed at Hartlepool not so long ago - dressed in furs"
"That were a monkey you fool!"
"Check his pockets"
"Empty... poke him"
"e' could be royal - look at his boots, I aren't never seen boots like that on a ship rat"

The storm moved closer outside, a slight wind had arisen, just tickling the hairs on the back of your neck as you stood with it to your back. The sea was still as calm as a puddle.
A few lamps went out, more due to the hour than the wind, and soon the tavern was shrouded in conspiritorial darkness and silence.
The man was stirring.

When he opened his eyes and focused he knew he was safe, for now, if only because these men were too inebriated and stupid to know who he was. He couldn't be sure of their nationality or their intentions, but he knew an honest fool when he saw one, and if stupidity was courage then these men made an army that the King would have been proud of.
Slumping forward, he raised his head a little and looked piercingly into the eye of the innkeeper, who was holding a lantern and seemed to command some kind of respect from the other men.

And then he spoke...

[gordon_nicoles]

Where's the rest of ?! Great story! You have a gift Davey_Jones. I wish I was that creative.
_________________
No! Do or do not. There is no Try - Yoda

[Davey_Jones]

A gift perhaps but no confidence! I was just testing the waters to see what the response might be!
I will continue soon... watch this space, and thank you for your kind words!

[Dread Pirate Ceranuth]

Excellent work Davey jones.