((15oc, off the coast of Mugroba))

The sun was blinding and hot overhead as the Cutlass sailed gracefully into the harbor. The island of Mere Aran was one of the smaller isles in the Haida Archipelago, but definitely one of the most popular; from the packed harbor teeming with traders and pirates to the lush jungles visible beyond the harbor walls, it was an altogether pleasant break from the vast expanses of open sea that they had encountered over the past week.

Luke Emerson fidgeted as they sailed into the harbor.

He was not happy about making port, not when they were so close to their goal. Why, another few days sailing and they might have made it to their destination! And with this group of layabouts and villains, he felt certain that it was a bad idea to tempt fate at Mere Aran.

But the crew and captain had insisted upon it, and after all, it was not his ship.

As they docked, Emerson looked down at the sea of brown faces on the pier. Ah, the Mugrobi people were a marvel: always so friendly and welcoming to weary traveler; industrious, honest and poetic. He wished he could say the same about the Bad Brothers. They hardly made a good impression of their homeland, stepping off onto the dock swearing and spitting like a bunch of children. Emerson grinned fondly nonetheless.

The tall and muscular dockmaster, skin glimmering with sweat in the noonday sun, glanced over the crew and motioned for Lacey to give him the passenger manifest.

Lacey loved Mere Aran from the moment she'd first seen it. The hustle and bustle was so full of life and a love for it. And the smells, rich strong scents that left the body refreshed. As the crew moored and docked the ship, the green eyed pirate made her way down the gang plank.



Raising an appriciative eyebrow, Lacey approached him, handing over the required paperwork.

"Ye look like yer workin' hard." She said with a wink.

"Hardly working," said the dockmaster in the soberest, most humorless voice imaginable. It had a deep rumble behind it that distinguished a coastal Mugrobi man. He eyed her manifest briefly.

"You carry the Adder," he said shortly. His eyes scanned the crew for the elusive Daniel Adderson, a man who had spent most of the voyage alone in his bunk, whittling away at some sort of soapstone idol. "We do not welcome him at Mere Aran. He will be under your supervision?"

Lacey nodded, thumbing her cutlass.

"Aye, we do. He currently waits on board. If ye wish, I shall keep him with me at all times. Unless ye prefer ship arrest? I have men who can watch him. Can I ask why ye don't welcome the lad?" The man he spoke of made Lacey just a little uncomfortable. He'd not really mingled like the others, and in her mind he was a bit on the lazy side.

Ah, Mere Aran, it hadn't changed a bit. The smell of the salt and spices filled the air, making her smile despite her reservations.

Angel breathed it in silently, watching the inhabitants. That mugrobi merchant in Vienda had reminded her how much she enjoyed the dark skinned men, but being here, in Mugroba, the very sight of them was... intoxicating. Perhaps, she'd have to find a way to extend their foray in port.

With her face hidden beneath the hood of her coat, the woman followed after Lacey towards the dockmaster. Her red eye was covered with a leather patch, just in case. It was best she didn't do anything that would get her recognized. Even though she hadn't stepped foot in Mugroba in nearly six years, it was never wise to ignore taking precautions.

A few stressing moments passed as the dockmaster looked over the manifest. Angel's fingers squeezed the grips of her guns, more for comfort than battle-readiness. She knew that if she was recognized, the inhabitants of the island would not be appeased with merely putting her on ship arrest.

But for now, it seemed luck was on her side. The man handed back the manifest and merely pointed out that one of the more unseemly men on board was not accepted in the port. She would have sighed in relief had she not been trying to avoid notice...

"He killed a good many of my friends," said the dockmaster, in a dark voice. "I will not say that there was no good reason - they insulted his face. If he goes with you, do not let him from your site."

He handed the manifest back to Lacey, frowning.

"If anything should happen on the island, your ship is here, with me. Remember that."

On the deck, Daniel Adderson had emerged from the hold. He glared at the others, who shifted away from him in the toughest way possible.

Taking back the manifest, Lacey nodded to the man.

"Ye needn't fear matey, I will watch him like a prayer fish watchin' prey." Turning back to the boat, she looked at the men inching away from the strange Adder. She caught Angel's eye and pointed to her eyes, then to Adder, indicating she wanted Angel to watch him. If anyone on the Cutlass was equipped enough to watch a loose cannon like Adder, it was Angel. Rolling up the manifest, she tucked it back in her belt.

"Tell me dockmaster, do ye know anywhare a lass can git a stiff drink, a good time, an' perhaps, flour?"

Angel winked at Lacey with her uncovered eye. As she turned to view the man, she decided that she may very well enjoy watching this man... all the time. Grinning, she turned and waited beside the gangplank until Adders made his way down.

The woman's arm snaked out like a shot, wrapping around his own. As she strengthened her impressive grip, she leaned against him. "You've been here before, aye?" Her one blue eye closed slowly before opening in a tiny slit. "Care to show me around a bit? Maybe find a place with good drinks?"

"The Argent, over by the east bridge, will have accommodations for your crew," said the dockmaster. He eyed Lacey up and down once more, seemingly deciding if she was worth the benefit of his favor. "Tell them Oru sends his regards."

Adder had been enjoying an uneventful stroll across the dock when Angel took him by the arm. He flinched, trying to shake her off. His dark eyes looked past her face as though he didn't see her, and he said nothing.

As Adders shook her off, Angel didn't resist. Throwing her hands up, Angel glared at him from beneath her hood. "Your loss..." Though her voice was smooth as silk and sweet as honey, the hiss of her last word held a deadly undercurrent that held all the venom of a woman that was not used to her charms being so completely rejected.

For now, she'd follow him. It wasn't like she had anything else to do.

Noe sighed, and after a last sweep of the galley, gathered her bag and made for the top deck. She knew this port rather too well; many of her rather... unspeakable acts had occurred here, or places like here. She could still name the scars that had found their birth in this harbor town...

Shaking herself out, she ascended the stairs with an aplomb she didn't feel. Being back 'home' made her realize how out of place she felt amongst her new friends. She was dark in skin... but a black sheep to even her own people. I'm an honorless whore. Dze. Now I'm Anaxi. Looking over the rail, she wanted to make a rude gesture to the port, but decided against it.

Lacey was busy with the harbor master... she could slip off for supplies relatively easily. Straightening her no-nonsense wrap and pulling hard on her cap, she decided not to wait for the captain; better if the blonde didn't see her melancholic mood. What use has anyone of a sad dolly?


So she attached herself to a few leaving pirates and slipped away. As soon as her feet touched the boardwalk, she felt the sense of coming home to a disapproving mother.

Hahaha, your wayward daughter returns. Let's hope none remembers me. Touching her bobbed hair, and her sensible clothes, she looked like a far cry from the Mulukan mimic she'd been as a young teen.

The docks were busy, and she did her best to blend in. Relying on memory, Noe made her way to the main market, with an eye for her favorite spices.

Lacey tipped her hat to Oru with a grin.

"Yer too good matey." With a little bounce, she returned to the ship.

"Listen up ye lot! The Argent has accommodation fer those of ye wantin' off th' ship fer a bit. I want ye t' all report t' me at least once a day. An' I want out of here in four days time!" Turning to Angel and Adder, she narrowed her eyes at the weird man.

"Ye have put a leash on yerself an' me it seems. From now on, ye don't leave th' ship without either myself or Angel here. An' fer yer sake, I'd keep yer tongue an' manners around Red." Looking around the ship, she frowned.

"Whare is Iale?"

"Right here!" shouted Iale from behind several of the bulkier crewmen. She pushed her way past with surprising force, causing several men to yelp in alarm. Her hat was crooked and she had a mean look.

"Lookin' forward to a little shore leave, are ye, boyos?" she yelled accusingly at the men, who jumped at her tone. "Don't get too comfy. We're only at port for a short stay while we restock. If any of ye loveless sons of dogs gets it in his head to get guttered an' kill a man or two, I'll have yer bloody ears for earrings."

Lacey grinned at Iale and thumbed her cutlass.

"If ye weren't so clocking short, ye wouldn't have that problem. We should get ye some high shoes what those Hoxian women sometimes wear." Her smile was full of cheek.

"I'm about t' head to th' Argent if ye want t' come at all. Find a room, find some rum, have some fun. Angel, ye can come to if ye want, but that new puppy has t' stay on a tight leash." Looking over their heads, she couldn't see Noe or Viktor. That dampened her spirit a little.

"Well?"

"Aye, aye, cap'n," echoed the crew smartly. They may have been criminals, but Hawke had trained them well in the area of chain of command. They even saluted, though most of them did it incorrectly. Jim Jaffordey hit himself in the face.

A little old man siddled off the boat and down the gang plank, a strange square of blue fur upon his head. He hummed lightly to himself as he did, threading through the crowd of sailors and heading towards the tavern. His eyes seemed dangerously unfocused.

He walked into a pole before skidding around it and continuing on his way.

"Might wanna just let the bugger off here," said Iale quietly to Lacey, motioning to Johanes. "Might be kinder. Mark me words, he ain't a Brother."

The road to the Argent (which was, in the local tongue, known as the Cop D'Ore) was made of sand, stamped into a flat solid surface by generations of traveling boots. Around them, roadside merchants hocked their wares, offering fish, bread, love, wine and clothing to the pirates. Smiles surrounded them; everyone on the island of Mere Aran seemed to be incredibly content.

The inn itself was a grand affair, clearly the mainstay of the island's economy. It served as a central marketplace as well as a very large boarding house. The door was propped open by a rusting can that had apparently been there for years; hordes of travelers were going in and out of the building, and there was a pleasant sound of hustle and bustle.

Lacey took on Iale's advice as they made their way to the inn, enjoying the bustle of the port. Reaching the Argent, she made a low whistle, looking at the dwarved pirate.

"Far cry from th' Black Dove aint it?" Grinning, she stepped through the busy doorway, looking around in the murmur and laughter off the inn for something like an innkeep.

Noe smiled at the spice merchant, reveling in how inexpensive it was now that she was home.

"Domea, sana'hulali and many blessings on your family, wise and fair merchant." She bowed low, being overly respectful. However, the man warranted it; the ego stroking bargaining had been a refreshing reminder of her honor-and-tradition rigid culture. Anaxas has make her honest; Mugroba made you polite.

Shifting the spice-pack on her back, Noe grinned. The smell of the sea salt and spices and human waste was a familiar one, and with it came the good memories as well as the bad.

Realizing she had left without even a by-your-leave, Noe flushed somewhat and dashed over to where her gut told her a lovely Lacey would frequent; the Argent. And there, ahead of her was...

"Captain! Hulali be praised, I have found you!" Her phrasing was more polite, less easy than on the ship, but her tone was equally warm. Some of her old customs rubbed off on her again.

Lacey turned around and spotted the mugrobi cook, raising an eyebrow with a strange grin.

"Aye, that ye have, were ye lookin' fer me lassie?" She didn't mention that she herself had been looking for the girl, but she did look her over once with a smirk.

"Ahoy, welcome, sailors," cried a cheerful voice.

At the bar, a Mugrobi boy in his early teens was waving to them, beckoning the newcomers to the bar. He was shirtless and wore his pants high, past his navel, in the traditional style of the peasant. His head was shaved bare and some unintelligible tattoos were inscribed around his eyebrows.

"Come have a drink!" he cried. "Island coconut, only two pennies."

Lacey grinned broadly at the young man, walking over to the bar and seating herself.

"Arr! I definitely aint gonna argue with ye about that lad! Thank ye." She pulled out eight pennies.

"Four matey." Looking at the others, she scoffed.

"Don't say ye capt'n don't do anythin' fer ye!"

"Aye aye, capn'!" cried the entire crew, stomping the ground in good cheer and clapping her on the back. Clearly, Lacey had earned their approval. Iale even slipped Lacey a sideways grin as she clambered up on a barstool and ordered a Bad Idea, a Mugrobi specialty with lightly poisoned rum.

Adder pushed past the rest of them and found a spot at a back table, where he slid into the shadows, putting his feet up and glaring out into the tavern. The others exchanged looks, snorting and tipping back their drinks.

"If he don't wanna play wit' us, fair enough," said Harry Tibbs. "Never liked the bugger anyway."

Slip Veriniece, the only female Bad Brother on board, stuck her dagger into the bartop and drank her Chrove's Erse with a flourish. "Remember when Cap'n Dogger held up the Meridian? He took that walkin' bunghole to the grave with hardly a movement. Never even brags about it." She said this with contempt, as though every respectable pirate had to brag about his achievements. "Still, he's a right erse."

"Agreed," said Noggin, Lucius, Sam, Winnie and Jim in harmony.

Emerson, meanwhile, was enjoying his coconut as though he'd never tasted anything so delicious. He had the expression of a young boy on Clock's Eve. Iale gave him an incredulous look.

"Did you just slurp?" she demanded.

He looked up with surprised, innocent eyes, his mouth still closed around the straw.

Lacey grinned and waved her crew off sheepishly, watching the Adder take up seating in the back. She listened to the Brothers talk about him with a thoughtful pout. He sounded like someone she had to watch. Closely.



The blonde leaned forward and gave Emerson a mirthful look, surprised at the man.

"Ye look like ye ain't been on th' islands before Emerson!"

Noe glanced at the man, fighting back both smile and wary frown. She didn't know why Emerson set her off so; he just did. It was like he didn't fit with the rest of her world, the power-plays and scraping she'd always fought.

Maybe he's just too nice. She sighed, and decided to work through whatever mental block she'd set up against the man with a little politeness and tact. Setting her hat straight on her head, she stepped towards him with an open smile.

"Enjoying your drink?" She asked kindly, without her normal flirtatiousness, smoothing her wrap. "Back home, my mother would use spices and some rum to flavor the coconut milk. It was always very delicious." She glanced at Lacey, grinning. "I think that if we buy enough of them, I could fix some for everyone...?"