Pirate Captured! Part III: The Rescue

  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.
  • : Function ereg() is deprecated in /home/theresab/goodshipwhitestar.com/includes/file.inc on line 647.

The Rescue, written by Lot Ramirez
The night was dark in Freeport. Many ships lay anchored in the crowded harbor, the rowdy noise from their crews drifted lazily up from the dockside taverns. It was deathly quiet aboard the White Star, as three dark, cloaked shapes slipped noiselessly over the gunwhale and on to her decks.
"Quiet, now," said Wolver to his two companions, 'Last thing we want is to bring Lot and his crew down upon us."
"Eh, breeng zem on, I take zem all on," said one of his companions, drawing his dagger. The third, a large man called, Stitch, quickly shot his hand over the frenchman's mouth, cutting off any further boast they all knew would get them into trouble.
"Shut up, Saucier, we're here to get the captain and get out," whispered Wolver.
"Can't have us do his dirty work if the captain's already freed," snickered Stitch, "so, SHHHH."
Quietly, the three slipped across the deck. Behind a barrel, Wolver stopped. He pointed up, above the hatch, a dark figure leaned against the helm's wheel, slowly rocking back and forth to the shifting of the sea. He motioned to Saucier, who silently scrambled, on all fours, halfway up the stairs, as close as he dared to the helmsman, the quickly back to his companions.
"Asleep, he ees asleep."
The three blew a communal sigh of relief, as they slipped forward to the hatch that led below. Closing the hatch behind them, they missed the slightly slitted eyes of the helmsman open all the way.
Creeping below, past the sleeping crew, slient as death, they arrived at the brig. As they approached the cage, with a lone figure, huddled and cloaked, sleeping on the floor, Stitch stopped.
"Too easy," he said, "Where are the guards?"
Wolver repiled, "Asleep, man, with the rest of the crew. They aren't expecting us until tomorrow." He chuckled, "Now come on, help me open up this cage."
"I don't like it," muttered Stitch, but he set about his work picking the lock, while Saucier took a post by the stairs.
When the lock was open, Wolver crept in to his captain, still asleep in a huddled mass. He shook the figure quietly to wake him, but it wasn't his captain's eyes that looked out at him from below the hood. And, it certainly wasn't his captain's steel pressed underneath his chin. Saucier let out a squeak as a hand reached out from under the stairs next to him, cutting off any further noise as a gun went to his head. Stitch was a surprised as the rest as the sleeping helmsman came streaming down the stairs, a wickedly curved sword held out in front of him, followed by 5 other sailors each armed with pistols and swords.
Quintin threw off Nafar's cloak, his sword still on Wolver's throat, as he guided him out of the cell. Jaime removed his hand from Saucier's mouth but kept the gun pointed at his head as he pushed him back to the others. Mordechai stuck his scimitar at Stitch's chest and cued the powdermonkey next to him to remove them of their weapons. After they were disarmed, the three, now, prisoners stood there in silence, looking into the impassive faces of their captors. It was a trap, obviously, but where was their captain?
Just then, the silence was broken by boots ringing out again the stairs, and laughter. Voices drifted down from above. Nafar!
"...for allowing me at yer table again, Captain" he was saying, "It was an excellent meal tonight."
"Well, my lady would kill me if anyone on my ship starved, even a prisoner," the other voice, Lot, laughed. "Not nearly as excellent, though, as the hand you played." Together they descended the last stairway, and Nafar's jaw dropped at the sight of his crewmen, captured and surrounded.
"Though I think, tonight, I may have played one better," smiled Lot, as he clapped Nafar on the back.