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PostPosted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 11:59 am    Post subject: CHAPTER (2) PLUNDERING GRAND GRANADA #5 #6 #7 #8 Reply with quote


"At last I've captured Montalban, ( Bess reads what Thanatos has written ) he is contrite and has offered loyal service, begging me to allow him penance. I tried to forget the wrongs he did to my family, but I could never forgive. I gave him a chance but my thirst for revenge was merely delayed, Each time I saw him my craw would rise, and a red hot rage, like a blade from the forge, would blind me. A blade can be quenched in water, but my rage had not yet cooled. And he fueled this rage by pranks and mutinous gestures. My back was turned but I caught him as he was drawing his thumb across his neck. This amused the crew, but it proved the family destroyer was not truly repentant. So I ordered him bound and hoisted up a yardarm. Not a dignified sight, with him kicking the air and cursing me roundly. Shouting curses while he swayed like a pendulum in the breeze, cursing whenever I mounted the quarterdeck, his spirit not broken yet. So I ordered a hammock spread and rolled him in it, like a trussed roast beef he was. Then carried, like carpeted Cleopatra, under the bowsprit, and bound to the figurehead. Arachne seemed pleased. It looked quite natural, him the prey, clutched to her bosom. The ship slashed through waves splashing him with spray. It was days before I heard him say 'Please forgive me Captain, a loyal matelot I'll forever be.' -" He's a b.. b..beast !" Bess exclaimed as she lifted her head and realized the direction of my gaze. She adjusted her bodice, without much success, leaned forward again, to read further.
" I kept him bound to Arachne as we skirted the Miskito coast an' up the the Rio San Juan 'till Lago de Nicaragua, nestled in a bowl of tropical jungle. Mists rise from the lake. Beyond the lake is the town. Even at that distance I can see the houses an' fortifications that surround it; the long ragged flags, fluttering from the rooftops; the brown clay houses an church spires-and the scavenging birds who wheel over it endlessly, like flies circling a ripe fruit."
A ripe fruit is Bess too, who I hope to shortly consume. I am attracted to her crossed eye which wanders upward, like the martyrs in paintings seeking ecstasy, and the slight gap between her front teeth, a token of rural simplicity. A force of purely conventional emotion impels me. "Come, sit here on the bed next to me. Read some more."
Is it to prove herself an asset to her father that she so willingly accepts, ignoring my attention toward Castor and Pollux?
"Using my spyglass I saw It was market day for the country round. The central plaza was crowded and peasants were still arriving. Montalban bellowed and moaned and these carried across the still waters. Their heads turned. They pointed. We were detected. Soon church bells rang from the city we couldn't surprise. I could see the streets fill with people pointing, rushing about like a disturbed ant-hill. Some stampeded to shelters in cellars."
A force of purely conventional emotion impelled me to kiss her cheek. Her hands quivered, she kissed me back three times... again, and three kisses in return.
"They carried bundles and children. Carts were being loaded. these creaked toward jungle to hide. 'Tarantella...Tarantella'...their cries reached the ship and still resonate pleasantly in my mind, for I am proud that my reputation had spread to this distant outpost and inspired such fear. 'Tarantella es aqui.' My ship glided slowly, a powerful menace, hardly rippling the mirror smooth surface."
A force of purely conventional emotion impelled me to stroke her skins smooth surface as I kissed this counter-kisser again. Like a counter-punch or counter-attack a counter-kisser waits then, repeats the action as dealt, minus any aggression. To say she-coo-oo-coo-ooo-cooed like a dove between kisses was too much a cliche, even for me. Never the less....
" I glanced at my feral crew crouching below the gunnels, their grins revealing eagerness to devour the homes of the rich, revealing dreams of sumptuous meals, prepared beneath those roofs by gorgeous women with exuberant breasts and blouses that teased, singing to the music of clinking gold."
The conventional emotion inspired by these foin piratical notions impelled me to make room for Bess to get comfortable. She hummed as she stretched beside me and continued humming as we kissed; unusual but pleasant. 'Twas those exuberant women and her murmurs of pleasure...
"SURRENDER ! If surrender is not immediate I will raze the town to the ground and leave no structure standing. Surrender your gold and your lives and property will be spared. SURRENDER ! NOW ! "
At each utterance of the word 'surrender' Bess shivers with ungovernable excitement.
"Their resistance was futile. We let a broadside, most defenders fled seeing my longboats approach, yet they commanded their band to remain. In fear they performed discordantly, accompanying Montalban's sweet oratorio. We passed without harming the musicians, we'd need them later, and came to a pretended line of defense. It evaporated before our furious ( ) assault. We charged ( Oh )and charged (Oh) again hard on ( At each innuendo Bess utters vague ejaculations ) their weakest,(F..a..fu ) most vulnerable places.(Uka ) The battlements were overrun.(Kak ) Pounding ( She emits constant convulsive explosions of consonants and vowels ) on doors (Ti..i..i ) we demanded entry. (Tss..S ) We pulled at crevasses. (uGH..u ) Flames lapped ( the towns outskirts. In a daze, staggering, their faces reflecting the fires, some offered no resistance at all. ( M...m..MiMi.. ) Those who fled toward the jungle were returned. When gently ( nG..Gah ) coerced,.all revealed their hidden treasures (O) The booty (O) we piled in the central plaza. The town was wide open (Oh) to our will, (OH ) trembling,(Ooh ) wild,( OOh ) red, (OOH ) disordered, (OHWOWO ) supine".
I stopped counting kisses.

Last edited by Coagula on Tue Jun 01, 2010 12:12 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 12:04 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote


'Tis a fine morning. I pause under the crossed sticks that serve as the sign for the 'Broken Hoe'. O...Their fastening has failed and they dangle loosely. Loosely indeed, the whole town dangles, waiting to be plucked. That this town was rotten I knew from the start, and it was the soldiers who clued me. The first one I saw needed a shave. The second had buttons missing off his crumpled uniform. The third passed me, leaving the confectioners, with a cigar puffing at the corner of his mouth. They were already running from service.

Ay'ym here for a bit more than spying. There's some business I do when I come to a town. Of course first I visit the barber, and during the haircut and shave a gazette worth of information is exchanged. He knows more about me than he needs, and I learn a bit about the locals. I also judge his medical skills to see if he is a typical blood- letter or has he learned something new about treating wounds.

A group of farm families with vegetables to sell are going my way, and I join them to remain inconspicuous. Highly unlikely, I wear somber merchant garments, but life is to short to blend in and my tigerskin weskit peeks past the black jacket. The peasants wear basic rag. The town is over yonder hill. Ahoy, rider Ho, at the crest of the hill, speeding toward us full tilt. Dust and clods of dirt spring from the horses hooves, and he waves to us, or just to me, as he passes. A jaunty fellow, in black, with silver conchos on his vest and decorating the horses' bridal and reins. A picaresque figure, more likely a highwayman, he seems to be fleeing.
At the Apothecary Ay'yl check his 'erbs for potency, and buy what I need to prepare 'Potter's Potency Powders' ,(my mother's herbal mix)Which he'll buy from me when he learns it is Effengers favorite elixir..
My group is near a modest rise. The stream on the left forms a pond then continues to the sea. Fishermen join the market bound folk. Another rider, a Captain of the Guards, chasing the first, I guessed rightly. He has a nest of red hair, the mark of an illegitimate offspring of the dissolute Governor, Lord Effingham, Effinghton or was it Effingitch, I forget. He was himself illegitimate, but the son of one of the heroic Captains who fought the Armada and was highly connected. You run into these Effingers often, as they have salted the Caribbean, but they are especially populous here, proof of the Lord's legendary potency. His lack of discrimination inspired the local expression for stupidity,'Don't be an Effing Fool.' I turn as he passes, 'Here Granny, I'll help you with that bundle.' We are at the town's modest ramparts and pass the sentry at the gate. Slaves are sold at this market in cool evenings. Ground sheets are spread and vegetables piled. I continue to the print shop. This town has no real bookstore but the printer has a small shelf, and some items seem interesting. I'll meet up with the Indian shaman, Sleeping Dog later.
Most of my books have been ill-gotten, gifted to me by illiterate pirates. They have no use for reading except for 'wanted' postings. Knowing my interest, they save volumes for me. They have no conception of a books value. Nor have they anyway to evaluate the jewelry plundered, but take what merchants offer.) It's Alchemy books that interest me most. Understand this; I already elaborate elements. In Port Royal I have a manufactory making gunpowder for honest trade, and I've been blending 'Potters' Powders since boyhood. Ay'ym looking at his books, trying to seem not too interested in 'The Historie Vitae and Mortis' by Sir Francis Bacon. I peruse other texts...O... I open James the firsts 'Prohibition of Dueling (1613) The Edict makes clear that causing death in a duel would be called murder, and claims of self-defense would be rejected. The loss off good men injures the state, makes children fatherless and precipitates vendettas. It will never do. How else could a man defend his good name or deal with disrespect. I dawdle at some great reads and ask their prices 'till I return to the Bacon tome 'The Historie of the Prolongation of Life' essays. I notice handwritten formula notes on the margins and endpapers. I buy it and leave. I find a quiet place to read...O..NOW is the most opportune time to elaborate for immortality. These star charts show the planets are in their most favorable alignment. But my ingredients and equipment are in Port Royal so how...WAIT... checking the list over I see most might be available at the Apothecary, the glass retort and 'Bain- Marie' too. But would he have bat wing... cat paw...and mummy bone? Would Sleeping Dog?... Ay'ym passing the vendors.. what's this... a puppet show...'Tis that traveling mountebank Stromboli, a renowned wood-carver of icons and such. Children sit on the ground before the stage. A lad swathed in pinecone garlands announces "King Midas and the 'Golden Touch" Not time for this now. I remember the Granny I helped with her bundle. I find her and indeed, she is a Bruja- a witchy herb crone, selling her cures for ailments of all sorts and enchantments to attract lovers. Among her goods is a woven tray piled with dried bats. I buy some..".but no cat paw, sorry Sir..and no bones about...Wait."..she pulls at the amulet at her neck- a snake skull- I buy it.
The indian village is on the other side of the pond. My main goal today was to show Sleeping Dog the map of the 'Lost Lagoon', hoping he might recognize any landmarks .I don't have it. Maybe I lost it. I probably left it at the inn.
I explain my new project and he is incredulous but speculates that it may be possible. He might help me. He empties a bag of sea shells onto the sand. First he must read my future by interpreting the shells.
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 12:08 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote


Bess in her nightshirt tiptoes to my bed. She has begged me to let her read more from the Log of Thanatos.

"We gathered at the massive doors of the church, bells still ringing, last refuge for women, children and cowards; ramming at them with a cannon barrel detached from its' carriage. Each impact received a wail of despair, the entire structure shuddering. The bells never stopped ringing, accompanying the pounding, the wailing, the crackling flames of pirate inferno. The door held but the hinges failed, the door-frame splintered. Both doors, still locked together crashed, crushing the men behind. Dust settled in the quiet before the storm. Light glimmered floating motes. Stained glass windows gleamed, noting the gold of the alter. My crew members, swollen with victory, paused almost shyly. They entered the first chamber slowly, stroking their swords, pointing them at likely victims cringing with fear. The blood, the fire, the bells, that part was over. Death waiting, calling, coming; we entered gently and the wall of flesh yielded. Penetrating deeper into the vaulted chamber I ordered ' Women and children to the right and the men on the left,' My men parted the tearful, apprehensive couples. I ordered the men reduce to their skivvies. Then, by swords encircled, I ordered their skivvies removed ! Their reluctance dissolved by convincing sword-pricks. Now naked, distinctions of rank extinguished, all were equally shamed. Especially the two who were women ! Dressed as men, living in secret as men, and as surprised as we, for they were unaware of each other's posing ! They begged me to spare them the shame of remaining, begging me to take them with us, away. I promised to, hoping to trade them to Captain C. for I know of his taste for bizarre. The dishonored men, with the old and infirm, we prodded down into debasement, imprisoned."
" Now, with swords advancing, we attended the women. The priest, held in reserve, was brought forward and I demanded he select the greatest sinner among them. A dirk to her throat, she whispered her most previous confession, which the priest confirmed, nodding. He was right in his selection, for her confession surpassed our lewdest fantasies. The other women were not shocked, for she had a well earned reputation, but they agonized over the details concerning their husbands.(Here is not the place to repeat them, but if we meet and you buy me a few my tongue might loosen.) I asked the priest for a favor, and he consented to bless the women and grant them absolution from any sins that may be forced upon them while we pirates were here, and they need not confess to them. That done we put flesh on our dreams."
"The musicians were called in and performed. They played as we herded the women and children to the 'crossing' of the church, the open space where the nave and transept aisles intersect, and guarded these avenues of escape. Each group of us took turns prodding and threatening, brandishing swords, backing the crowd against each other and toward the pirates behind them. Then it was these pirates turn to brandish, so there was constant commotion among the panic-struck women. 'Twas all in fun for we were simply observing for the liveliest. Then we ranked them against the railing and separated the comeliest, most beauteous, most exuberant and had the rest stand in the choir, facing the wall, to sing."
"Then we played 'Ravishing Beauty'. The pirates divided into squads of north, south, east, and west surround the women in the center. Each squad takes a turn attacking the women barehanded, no swords allowed, grappling, grasping, grabbing and exuberantly groping. Most are skilled at exuberantly groping and most knew when to give the next squad a fair turn. This constant attention from all directions, the music, and the singing from the choir, so blasted their sensibilities that it was hard to distinguish those who cried from the hysterical laughter of others. We hairy, sweaty, smelly, beastly pirates did as we pleased. The women were sweaty too, and absolved of their sins, and not a sword was left unsheathed."
" All marched with the band to the governors mansion. The "choir' assembled in the kitchen to prepare food. We danced with the women, now loosened by our high spirits and wine The band played on and on, even as we feasted, served by exuberant women, in blouses that teased, singing as they sat on our laps, feeding morsels to their mouths with our greasy fingers."
"The 'choir' was sent to feed and free the men in the church. They, grumbling, carting the plunder to my ship. The Governor informed that he was expecting to be relieved from this post, and thanked me for being merciful. I told him he should have heeded my initial demand for surrender so no lives would have been lost. My injured were few and none killed. I never intended to destroy Gran Granada, a goose that lays golden eggs. I have no hatred for Spaniards and their women are so beautiful. At dockside we danced to a last 'tarantella' stepping on as few toes as possible. I encouraged the throwing of rocks at Montalban still trussed to the figurehead's embrace. So we had laughed, sang, danced, and drank 'till not a drop was left and then we departed.' Do come again', they waved from ashore, but I noticed some dark looks from the men.
A seasonal rainstorm made navigating downstream hazardous, but the weather and fortune smiled as we reached the sea, We came upon the sloop bearing the new Governor of Gran Granada and his astonishingly beautiful daughter, Carlotta. She clutches her father's arm, tries to stand behind him, as we negotiate the price of her ransom, bidding, bargaining, much different than buying a slave.
' No, I will not permit a duenna'
'You must go with him Carlotta.'
They part, yet she reaches toward him, tears stream cheeks. head bowed, hair so immaculately coifed. She follows me out. Licks at the tears as they trail to her lips. Her tongue darts, pointy and pink. She turns for a last look at her father.
"Keep moving' I snarl and prod her stern. Her icy poise stalls. Was that a mare's whiney? A giggle with the start of a tartly twinkle?
I took her for ransom, despite his pleading, and promised to return her in full bloom.
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 12:10 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote


Next morning Coagula walks to the town, paying little attention to the military activity and less to his surroundings. Thoughts unworthy of a pirate bedevil him. Confused constructions of ' What Ifs " with Bess muddle the conception of his future. He circles the pond to the Indian village. A grand experiment awaits. Sleeping Dog stirs a slow boiling kettle, he has started brewing the IMMORTALITY elixir. Coagula squats near him, adding wings snapped from dried bats.

"I wish we had the cats' paw. I fear it won't work without." Sleeping Dog responds by poking my chest with his finger and smiles. Wot's this... he pokes me again. I parry his hand aside, but his meaning, 'tis clear now. He is poking my tiger-skin vestment ! 'Tis a brilliant substitution ! We tear a strip from the bottom and add it to the pot. The bat wings cycle in the roiling mix. Orange and black, the tiger strip writhes like a snake. Seems fitting to add the viper skull !
" This be the bone , the mummy bone you called it, " He adds powder from a pouch. "The bone was my fathers bone. Now you are of my father. Now you are my brother. The shells said the the son will follow the father, the brother will join the brother, we will go on a long journey together, father."
The Indian gave me an ounce of black liquid in a palm leaf cup. The liquid was oily and phosphorescent. I drank it down. It plummeted down my gullet and volunteered to be expelled immediately. I ignored the bitter foretaste of nausea. A cup full and in 15 minutes I vomited, my feet were numb and hands almost useless, unable to walk straight. It was a violent and sudden nausea. No coordination. My feet were blocks of wood. I vomited violently leaning against a tree and fell down in helpless misery, I could hear retching and groaning as if it were someone else. My arms and legs began to twitch uncontrollably.
Sleeping Dog studies the Lost Lagoon page from Garcias' letter, unconcerned by my hardship. I don't think he will recognize these ancient ruins or the landmarks. I don't care if he does.. It doesn't matter.. I am dying. Mother calls to me from the flames. I am dying. I am coming to you Mama.....


Representing the birds view
07o--o--o--o--o--o--o--o--o--o--o--o--o--o--o--o-oThe tips of the first row can barely be seen.
100--0--0--0--0--0--0---0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0--0Row two, in sea and air between.
12O--O-O--O--O--O--O--O-O--O--O--O--O-O--O--Ohe next row, in shallows that still can be sailed
14O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=O=OThe next row half beached, like a whale.
15O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#OThe remaining temples stand on firm ground.( The
16O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#OTemples are those encountered during hunts for
17O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#O#Or treasure or lost relatives )
Symbol Key with Mini-game action and goal description

"A", your ship must, by cannon fire or boarding, destroy or capture 6 (VV-UU-TT) war canoes before you can land on B(LINE 14)-the temple lined beach "=O=". Dashes"-- --"= water. # ground
#LINE 7 "--o--" are the TIPS of submerged temples that can damage your hull diverting men to bilge-pumps
Halfway under water are the temples-"--0--" of LINE 10, collide here and lose speed.
LINE12 "--O--" temples are in shallows that can be sailed, hit one and lose some maneuverability.
NOTE-canoes MOBILITY are limited ! V canoes only sail in lines 1 through 9 U canoes only sail in lines 8 through 11
T canoes only sail in lines 11 through 13
ALL SHIPS MAY FIRE CANNONS PAST THE SPACES BETWEEN TEMPLES)You can change flag-ship to a captured canoe
Menu card will ask "ATTACK CITY OR DON'T ATTACK", when you land on LINE14, for "PYRAMID BATTLE"

I stagger through the boot sucking swamp past tilting houses on stilts, with perilous partitions built on multileveled platforms and hammocks swinging over the void. Houses in trees and houses on riverboats; wood houses 100 feet long sheltering the blood and substance of many races, negro, nomad, India-men, Chinese, European - new races as yet unborn, combinations not yet realized- to be tasted in the future.
Strangers arrive on rafts tied together with rotten rope, they stagger in out of the jungle their eyes swollen shut by insect bites, they come down the mountain trail on cracked, bleeding feet through the dusty, windy outskirts of town where people shit in rows, along adobe walls, and chat about the condition of the weather, or their marriage or their bowels while vultures fight over fish heads. Houses are joined. Houses of adobe, stone and red brick support houses of packing crates, parts of old ships, canopies of rags and what's been washed in from the sea. Houses of sod, Philippinas, smooth copper faces lounge in doorways twisting shrunken heads on gold chains, their faces blank with an insects unseeing calm.
Behind them, through the open door, tables and booths,and bars and rooms and kitchens and couples embracing on rows of brass beds, crisscross of a thousand hammocks in this cities erogenous zone. People eating, talking, smoking, shitting in a haze of smoke and steam. The cooking smells of all countries joined by the smells of the jungle and salt water and the rotting river and dried excrement, sweat and genitals hang over the city.
This street is visited by episodes of violence and the untended dead are eaten by vultures in the open. Diseased beggars live in a maze of burrows William 'bonny billy' Boroughs hovers before me humming hymns pellucid , warning of beggars who pop out anywhere to spit at passersby and bite them and throw pus and scabs hoping to infect somebody. Hawkers of remedies, and vegetables serenely compete with pitchmen for cures for pox and apoplexy. Brokers of exquisite dreams and memories barter for the raw materials of the will. Followers of obsolete unthinkable trades doodle in Etruscan. Doctors skilled in treatment of diseases dormant in the black dust of ruined cities mend unspeakable mutilations of the spirit.
" Father ? '' Ay'ym walking, more or less, and Ay'ym talking to myself, out loud. "Father ?'' I don't understand what he means. I don't understand a craving I have. A craving for what ? I don't know. Is this going to work ? Am I immortal now ? My teeth hurt." A vibrating soundless hum accompanies me. I'm for my room above the "Broken Hoe" tavern. My jaw is aching. My teeth transforming, preparing to drink at the source of that humming. The humming of human potentials spread out in a vast silent market - to be sampled by me.
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