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Successful Negotiations; att. privateers,pirates, Tortuga people
Topic Started: Apr 20 2014, 01:04 PM (3,217 Views)
NPC

Civilian
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GEORGES DROUILLARD and NEIL DONOVAN

Date: 18-th of December 1719
Place: Basse Terre, Tortuga


- continued from here - [/align]

Georges mused that it had been a good idea to bring the things of “Guadalupe” here. They were finally in Tortuga, and they had succeeded to sell already a part of the goods since they had anchored. Who didn’t want to buy ship gear at acceptable prices, especially given that the pirates here didn’t have the luxury to choose where to take them from.

Neil and Georges remembered their latest adventures in Tortuga, glad that now only responsible people were in their team. The other time, when they were investigating about Sharky’s disappearance, Imp almost blew up their cover, raising the wrath of the people here. It took Kevin and Neil’s diplomacy, as well as a few others’, to appease the tavern keeper and tavern maids. But now it was different. Moreover, given that months had passed, nobody would remember then… except the eventual former crewmates who were now aboard the “Deliverance”, formerly known as “Fate’s Hand” when it was a privateerman, not yet a pirate ship.

But Neil was the only one in the present delegation who had been aboard the “Fate’s Hand” initially, and he had no qualms with the former crewmates for now.

”I think, for the next part of our business endeavours, we should go to a tavern and see whom we meet interested in what we are selling. It is obvious that what we could sell directly in the harbour was sold already,” Georges said.

Neil agreed, especially that he had a promise to keep. He had promised to Our Lady of Guadalupe to be sold to smugglers, not to pirates…

[align=center] This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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Fintan McKenna
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Boatswain aboard the "Twilight Shark"
Privateer
Having never been to Tortuga in the past, Fintan couldn't help himself from thinking that he would have preferred to be spared the experience. While it may not have been the exact sort of frivolously lawless place he had envisioned, it still didn't much strike his fancy and the prospect of going to a tavern even less so. He could see little good that would come from fraternizing with less than savory characters, especially with booze in their systems.

"Whatever you think will help us sell the last of our wares most efficiently," he replied with a low grumble.
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Adoracion deChucho
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Sailor aboard the "Twilight Shark"
Privateer
Adoracion had been staying near the shallop, doing most of the labor of maintaining the boat's order, sorting the goods for sale, and guarding them by day and night. He left the dealing and talking to the other men onboard - Fintan, Neil, Georges, and the others who desired it. It was a little out of character for him - he who was usually so lively and not unhappy to join conversation or explore places. But also he did not make it so obvious that he was not interested in these things here. If the topic became exposed he merely sided with Fintan, who had already expressed - through actions and expressions, if nothing else - his disgust with the place.

Adoracion had different reasons, but Fintan's achieved the same goals.

"I will stay here and watch the things while you find buyers." he added in a tone that he thought was passive. He was just offering to do a good deed. Surely others wanted to explore Tortuga, right? So he'd allow them to by taking the boring job here.

Maybe the others would think nothing of it...
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GEORGES DROUILLARD and NEIL DONOVAN, privateers [/align]

Georges was a little surprised by Addie’s reaction, as it wasn’t like his usual self. The bossun, however, was himself, with the usual grumbling.

But if Georges was ready to shrug it off and go on, Neil insisted, as he had an idea about the tavern he wanted to try their luck first and about what he would have needed his crewmates for:

”Come on, I know a not so shady inn, and the owner is Spanish. I haven’t seen too often such a beautiful woman," he remembered the one whom he attempted to charm before Imp threw a glass with something on her.

Then, Kevin's way of making peace was needed... and sending the troublemaker back to the ship.

”Moreover, among so many Spanish speakers here, you will be surely needed, my friend. Especially, I want you – and this is valid for you too,” he looked at Georges. ”to pay attention if we find any smugglers, not pirates, who might be interested in buying the figurehead… I promised Our Lady of Guadalupe not to be sold to pirates,” he added.

”Surely, this man talks with the figurehead and helds it next to him during the trip to Tortuga… could we trust him?” Georges snickered, pointing at the carpenter.

He already was accustomed to be taken as interpreter in all the French-speaking ports… and no matter that Neil was right, there were enough Spaniards there, Basse Terre was still, at least in theory, under French authority. As if the Governor of Saint Domingue could really do anything with it when it was the fief of the Brethren of the Coast for a century!

[align=center] This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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HERNAN LOPEZ and IGNACIO YBARRA, smugglers[/align]

The smugglers from Veracruz had anchored early in the morning. They had done a part of their job, and they were heading to ”Elixir d’Armagnac”.

Don Hernan, the first mate of ”Guadalupe”, didn’t long only to see the familiar place and the young tavern maid to whose wedding they had been invited in September. As usual, he had a letter to deliver for Sol Picador… the one whom he had known as Rodrigo the blacksmith apprentice, many years ago.

He knew the pirate captain was there; he had seen the ”Rising Sun” anchored towards the end of the quay, and he had anchored their ship not far away either.

Don Ignacio, the quartermaster, had met Sol Picador only as a pirate. He had to admit they had done good deals and he had understood from the younger man’s questions that he was also from the same city he was asking for news about.

But he was waiting first and foremost for the good food and drinks the ”Elixir d’Armagnac” had.


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Adoracion deChucho
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Sailor aboard the "Twilight Shark"
Privateer
Georges seemed happy to leave Addie to his separation from the group's plans for the day, but Neil - the jolly creature - would prove not so easy to dissuade. Especially because he had a valid point. At least, at a quick thought it seemed valid. Although Tortuga was French-governed, it had a large spanish-speaking population. Sure, most of them were polyglotal, but if they got an attitude you could kiss their effort to speak your tongue goodbye...

Addie paused where he had been bending over to move a bucket and looked over his shoulder. Buuut, on the other hand... was it worth the slim chance that he someone from his past - anyone - saw and remembered him?

Adoracion smiled and then gave a chuff of laughter as Neil talked of the promises he'd made to the figurehead. Addie had poked at him some regarding the carpenter's for the dark-skinned Madonna. Had the Spaniard had any misgivings about telling everyone Neil would have made love to the figure if he hadn't feared being struck down by God almighty? No - Addie had told them all.

Standing tall, he turned towards the men, hands on hips... and glanced slowly at the Bosun.

"But who will watch these things?" he asked, waving a hand at the goods. There were other men who could, but Adoracion saw no harm in forcing someone to shift the responsibility from his dead hands. Fintan had grumbled enough now and then that Addie was certain he knew where the Irishman stood on the topic of pirates and smugglers... and he was sure others would share his views.
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Fintan McKenna
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Boatswain aboard the "Twilight Shark"
Privateer
As long as it was well understood that he was doing so begrudgingly, Fintan saw no reason not to tag along, really. This was a new port after all, as distasteful as he thought it, but if he was simply going to stay with the boat then why even bother coming at all?

He wasn't truly in as a bad a mood as he made on about, and the way Neil seemed so enamored with this bloody figurehead was nothing sort of amusing. He was almost a little surprised the carpenter hadn't simply decided to keep it for himself, the way he looked at it with large eyes like he planned to buy it dinner and take it to bed.

"One of the other men can watch them, as I think you'll be needed. 'Fraid I don't speak a lick of anything but English," Fin gave Addie a shrug, indicating they had had little other option than for him to come. He chose not to mention the fact he was just as fluent in Irish since it had no place in the conversation at this time. If they met an Irish smuggler, well, he'd bring it up then, but the chances were quite unlikely.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he cast a glance at Neil to lead the way to this tavern he had in mind. Had this been a place he knew, he likely would have started walking already, but this didn't seem to be the kind of place one would like to find themselves lost in.
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GEORGES DROUILLARD and NEIL DONOVAN, privateers [/align]

Yes, indeed, Neil had heard it all from his crewmates. The ones who could remain speechless looking at the sails of a beautiful tall ship, at a fine sword or even at a beast of a cannon, strong, black and precise, apparently couldn’t see and appreciate the skill of the woodcarving hands who had shaped this figurehead. Would they have the same indifference for the statues of saints in a church? He mused, remembering that both Georges and Addie, who poked the most fun at him, actually were Catholic and supposed to understand better his perfectly reverent admiration for the Spanish saint.

”Heathens and barbarians – you, an Mhaighdean Mhuire*, shouldn’t listen to their gross jokes, entirely lacking piety,” he mumbled in his mother tongue to the statue. ”You know that my thoughts are pure and sincere… and that I prefer you have a new ship to protect, preferably one with Catholic men aboard. So we are out, to seek one.”

Of course, the goods to be sold remained aboard the ship. They were not travelling merchants to have their wares in the inn. Everything could be shown and further discussed at the shallop; the idea was to have, first of all, interested customers.

Georges snickered again when hearing Neil speaking in Gaelic to the statue.

”You are trying in vain, she understands only Spanish,” he commented.

Then, looking at Addie, he nodded with a smile:

”Of course you are coming! Should I be the only interpreter around? I don’t think so…”

He could speak some Spanish too, from the time of the previous war, fought in Spain as allies, but he didn’t want to admit it now (especially that his willingness to speak it had decreased substantially since he got a navaja across his face… and he was lucky enough to survive it). It was really well to have a Native speaker among them.

Neil was the one to lead the way to the inn:

”It’s not far away, in five minutes we are there!” he answered.

And his time assessment proved to be true. He opened the door, he saw the rather peaceful atmosphere he expected, with half of the tables full, half empty, as it was expected at this hour of the day, and he smiled.

”Good afternoon,” he said loudly.


* Virgin Mary (in Gaelic)

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Maribel Vargas
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Tavern keeper, Tortuga
Civilian Admin
Maribel was, like usual, among her customers. The smugglers from Veracruz had barely arrived. They wanted to be fed and to drink, for a start, her sangria. They had brought her mezcal, Sol’s favourite drink (and a few others’ of her customers, born in that area of New Spain). Don Ignacio was the one to provide some bottles for her every time when he came… which wasn’t too often, unfortunately. Since Baptiste’s and Carmen’s wedding, they hadn’t come back here until now.

True, the hurricane had done its share of damages, the blockade had done its share too – but when a ship from Veracruz wanted to arrive directly to Tortuga, not having any business in Cuba, it could circumvent the blockade, especially with experienced men aboard who had done their supplying, a few years before, when it was still possible, from New Providence and they knew how to navigate safely in the maze of the Bahamas cays and islets. The allied Navies who enforced the blockade could never have enough ships to have thought of blocking that Northern part too. They closed a sort of ring around Cuba, as far as she had understood (which wasn’t entirely the correct image).

Cathy had been announced, the paellas were already in the oven, Carmen brought two big jugs of sangria to the table, Darcy got the glasses… When don Hernan wanted to give her the letter for Sol, she shook her head:

”Keep it with yourself, don Hernan! He is here, and you’ll see him today, to give it yourself, together with direct news.”

The tavern door opened again, and she saw four men entering, who weren’t better, neither worse looking than some others of her customers. Sailors, no doubt. Pirates or smugglers, she couldn’t say. She had the impression of having seen before one of them, but she wasn’t sure. The inn was a rather crowded place.

As one of them had greeted her in English, she answered in the same language, with an uncertain tone because she was still looking for some of the words:

”Welcome to the Elixir d’Armagnac! What do you want to drink, to eat? We have a large array of drinks and foods for you!”

This was true, indeed. Most inns and taverns had limited choice as concerned meals. But they didn’t have Cathy in the kitchen…
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Adoracion deChucho
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Sailor aboard the "Twilight Shark"
Privateer
The four men stepped into the bar, Georges and Neil leading - as they knew the place better than Fintan, and Addie hadn't been here in a while - not to mention had no intention of letting on that he had ever frequented this place. As a smuggler or not *ahem*, it was maybe better they all pretended he hadn't.

After even Fintan had given Addie a shrug, the Spaniard had been gang-pressed (in the way only friends could manage) into coming along with them all. They needed his tongue, they said, although apparently they had managed these places before without a spanish-speaking guide. No, he could understand being uncomfortable with speaking a language you were not comfortable with... and a small part of him was excited to speak Spanish with other fluent speakers...

Anyway, they walked in.

Neil addressed no one in particular with a "Good Afternoon," in his accented English. And much to Adoracion's surprise, a woman he had overlooked in the atmosphere at first glance pulled herself a little out of the crowd and addressed Neil in return.

She was Spanish. She had the way about her that Addie had always associated with those women of his birthplace. They didn't have to be beautiful to be sensuous - they carried it in their blood. And a Spanish woman to a love-starved sailor was spark to a tinderbox. At least, as far as Addie had always witnessed.

Turning his eyes away from the lady, Addie took a look about the half-full place. The motion served two purposes: firstly, to displace his attention from the woman (whom he did not remember but very well might have run into before); secondly, to get his bearings of the place Neil had lead him to, and a feel for the customers gathered there - too early to be drunks; too subdued to be impulse buyers...
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Fintan McKenna
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Catching Neil's mumblings, Fintan's ears perked up at the sound of his native tongue but quickly stifled his amusement. The carpenter didn't seem to have much right to question their piety given that from what he had understood, coveting idols was a sin. But Fin thought better of pointing this out.

It was well he did for they had already entered this tavern of choice and business was at the forefront of his mind. He scanned the room with an unsettled glare, trying to tell pirates from smugglers if there truly was any visible difference though not from what he could tell. He already come to this conclusion before he realized the group was being addressed and the mention of food and drink turned him off significantly. Being of the sort to take care of serious matters first before even thinking of food, Fin had missed more than a few meals simply because he had forgotten to eat.

With a sharp nod in way of greeting to the woman, he took her appearance in for a moment. That typical Spanish fire was alive and well within her in such a way that he knew there was to be no trouble in her tavern and he took that as a good sign.

He left a response to her offer to Neil, given that this was his labour of love after all. Fintan wasn't exactly the subtle or patient type, and if he had his way this business would be plainly stated and concluded matter-of-factly, though he had spent enough time among merchants to know that wasn't how business was done well and he didn't have the subtlety to play this game properly. Though he had gotten good at disapproving glares as a matter of subvert coercion and wasn't a bad wingman for a clever salesman.
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Not thinking anymore about the others' jokes, Neil smiled at the innkeeper.

”I remember you had a Spanish specialty with rice, seafood and something else. And an interestingly flavoured coffee how I haven’t drunk anywhere except here.”

”I’ll take paella too, and your coffee, and a jug of sangria,” Georges said too, remembering the right names not only from here, but also from the other war in Spain.

They knew they were here for negotiations. But first the order, then they were going to ask her if she knew anybody interested in buying some things good for refitting a ship… Any innkeeper in this world was talking better when her hand was heavier with a few coins.

”What are you taking?” Neil looked at Addie and Fintan. ”I’d recommend first her coffee. It has an unusual spice inside… but it is stronger and not bad at all. As for food… take your pick, you can find more things than in the usual French inns.”

"Now when someone is hearing you, can believe you are wooing the innkeeper," Georges thought about Neil. "Not enough time for this, mon gars."

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Fintan McKenna
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Privateer
There was something to be said for the passion Neil seemed to harbour lately, for that figurehead, for this Spanish woman and for food. It wasn’t a bad thing, on the contrary the carpenter seemed to have a good idea of how to play into people’s good graces to get to what he wanted. Fintan made note of this fact and tucked the knowledge back into his mental filing system. One never knew when this sort of observation would prove useful in the future.

”I’ll take a coffee, in that case,” he said upon Neil’s fervent insistence that it was so unique. ”Haven’t much of an appetite, but that could change.”
He wasn’t so keen on spending the money that they had only just come into, especially given that it wasn’t entirely theirs to do with as they pleased. Regardless, he supposed it counted as a work expense and left it at that.

After paying the woman, whose name he hadn’t caught and wasn’t much interested in anyway, Fintan cast an inquiring glance around before turning back to her. ”We’re looking to do some business, do you know of anyone in market for refitting a ship?”

Subtlety was hardly his strong suit but the sooner they got down to business, he felt, the better. As well-maintained as this tavern was, the clientele still gave him an uneasy feeling and Fin would prefer to be out of there and off this island as soon as possible. Though he was genuinely intrigued by this coffee.
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Maribel Vargas
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Maribel smiled at her new customers:

”So, find yourself a table and you’ll receive the coffee immediately. You are lucky that a big paella is getting out of the oven in a few minutes.”

Then, she added in Spanish, shouting at the closest tavern maid:

”Carmen, bring those gentlemen a big pot of coffee and cups!”

It wasn’t difficult to find a seat, as it was still early and the tavern wasn’t full. There were at least three tables in three parts of the hall big enough to accomodate the newcomers’ group.

One of the men, who seemed to be with the most authority, probably a captain or a quartermaster, she mused, asked about people who might need refitting a ship.

”It depends what exactly you are selling, but I know some people who might be interested,” she said. ”Maybe not all the things will be taken by the same buyer, however there are in this hall some quartermasters able to make a decision. And I’ll send for another captain too,”, she added, still in English, locking eyes with Ayiana.

The tavern maid understood quickly what she had to do. Up she was on the stairs, looking for Sol.
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Georges hurried to answer, as he had noted down for the quartermaster and the captain what had been already sold. The clothes, the sails and the navigational instruments were the first to go. The big medicine chest too, but there were the other kits left.

”We have a full carpenter’s kit and sailmaking tools, a surgeon's chest, a medicine chest, an amputation kit, some maps... and a beautiful figurehead,” he looked at Neil when saying the latest words. ”We think the figurehead, who is portraying one of the apparitions of the Virgin Mary, would be better suited for a smuggler’s ship,” he whispered further, not to offend any pirate who might hear.

Neil was looking at the innkeeper, nodding understanding. Indeed, they were realistic enough not to expect to have all things bought by the same persons. When Georges mentioned the figurehead, not remembering exactly her name, as in his mind all the ones he had seen in Spain were mixed with this one – Santa Virgen del Carmen, del Pilar, del Consuelo, del Socorro... – Neil intervened:

”Santa Maria de Guadalupe,” he completed Georges’ words. ”So, I guess a Spanish captain might know to appreciate Her better.”

[align=center] This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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