Rowing away, Ara had a slightly sadistic smile. Too easy, she thought again. Swaggering into the city of Tortuga she thanked the gods again for the smell of the sea; it almost managed to cover the stench of this city. Much as she enjoyed alcohol, she didn't love it as much as some pirates, pirates such as the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. Looking around to get her bearings she realized that the rum had in fact gone to her head, her vision was slightly blurred.
Seeing a familiar sign off to the left, Ara smiled again and headed off in that direction. Walking into the Dancing Sprite, heads popped up. Drunken pirates lifted their heads, grinning.
" 'Ands off!" The barkeep was a busty, plump redhead. She was also Ara's best friend. Smiling Ara sat down as Raphaela joined her. "What do ya need, luv?" Ya never come 'ere anymore unless ya need somethin'."
"I'm hurt, Phae. I truly am. I'll be sure to visit more, when I'm not busy being attacked or seduced by Jack Sparrow."
Phae laughed. "Sparrow. Righ'. Like a man like 'im would even give you a second glance."
"We have the most in'erestin relationship. And apparently 'e would, cause 'e did."
"Really? I envy ya lass. I do. So what was 'e like?"
"I couldn' tell ya."
Phae's jaw dropped. "You 'ad a man like Captain Jack Sparrow all ready and willin' and you didn't try 'im ou'? Shame on you."
"I had more important things like escape and survival on my mind, luv."
"What were ya doin' on the Pearl anyway?"
" 'E sunk the Minta."
"Ah, so ya do need somethin'. You need me ta round ya up a crew."
"If you would be so kind."
An hour later Ara looked over her crew. "What 'ave I ever done to you, mate?" she asked her friend. This crew was not only very small, but the men looked pretty sad. "I luv ya dove, but I think I'll find my own crew this time."
"Ya say that every time. Fine, get your own crew. But I'll 'old these men fer ya at the Sprite."
"She's right, ya know. I'll be back," she said to the nearest pirate. He looked a little frightened. "So 'ard to find good pirates these days," she muttered as she walked off.
Walking into another bar Ara glanced around. She saw the usual drunkards and whores, but she was looking for someone unusual…anyone unusual. There, she thought, a man brooding over 'is alcohol instead of reveling in i'. That's different a' least.
She walked over to him, grabbed the bottle now moving toward his mouth, and threw it to the ground. It broke, of course, spilling its contents over the ground.
"What the 'ell did ya do that for?" the man asked.
"You'll break ou' a yer misery if ya wallow in i'. I just saved you hours, maybe days of uselessness. What's yer problem? No, neve'mind. I don' really care. Now, 'ow well can ya sail."
"I wish I had some o' whateve' you've 'ad, luv," was his only replay.
Entering other bars, Ara went through the same process. In her third bar of the evening she saw a man in the corner near a fireplace reading a Bible. Well that jus' needs to be stopped, she thought.
Walking over to him she took the Bible from his hands and chucked it into the fire. Before he could speak she said, "I'll tell ya what I've jus' done fer ya. I've saved you from an early death. Undoubtedly, the Bible would bring ya an early death, mate. Ya'd either go soft and get caught almost instantly, or ya'd jus' kill yerself, cause inevitably the Bible will tell ya that yer goin' ta Hell. Now, whatever yer problem is, i' can be solved wiv summin like good 'ard werk ta take yer mind off i'." She patted him on the back and heaved him out of his chair. "Come on."
She found about a dozen men this way, and with the crew Raphaela had for her that made around thirty. Now all we need is a ship.