PROLOUGE
Port Branxton was a day's trip away from the notorious port city of Tortuga. Its heritage was more Irish than English, providing a wonderous night life and parties. However, few really knew the thrills that Port Branxton had, as well as secrets of various infamous pirates. Three pirates, for example, were spending their night in one of the Port Branxton pubs- Tabaid. They sat at a bar drowning in their misery; they were revisting the anniversary of when they had fallen victim to the famous Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl.
"'Tis alright," one man known as Gulliver declared, slapping his fellow members upon their backs. "The Anarchy will live again!" The Captain glared at him.
"Oh, be quiet, you fool," the Captain snarled in an Irish accent.
"Ah, come along, Queen-" another known as Davey tried squeezing out.
"Don't call me that." Davey sunk back down in his stool.
The group fell silent. Their Captain topped off the bottle of rum they were sharing and shoved it across the table. Declaring a "fill-me-up", the bartender gave the other members of the group an uneasy look. The Captain had taken the fall of the Anarchy quite hard.
"I'm cutting ye off, Cap'n," the bartender slightly muttered. "Ye's had quite enough"
"Excuse me, sir? But I believe I will know when I've had enough. Fill me up"
Reluctantly the bartender obeyed. Just as a fresh bottle of rum skidded across the counter, the front door to Tabaid burst open. A small figure was sillouetted against the night outside. Slowly, he stepped into the light. His brown hair was mangled under a worn leather hat and his eyes were wild. He scanned the crowd as he stepped further and further into the pub.
"Look at that fellow, eh Cap'n?" Gulliver snorted with laughter. The Captain glanced at him and sighed.
"Long as he stays were he is, I don't mind him"
"Is there an Anne Tiergan in these premises?" the man shouted. The Captain slammed the bottle of rum back down on the bar counter. The stool ripped around and the Captain stared down the man.
"Queen-" Davey tried again.
"What did I tell ye early, Davey?" Captain hissed. "Don't ye dare call me 'Queen Anne'. Ye know I ain't yer captain no longer." The Captain hopped off the stool and stalked towards the man at the door. With each step, he grew seemingly more and more frightened.
"Ye rang?" the Captain crooned, leaning against the near wall.
"Anne Tiergan?" he asked.
"Aye," she replied. "And what business do I serve ye this evening?" The man dug around inside his coat pocket before drawing out a roll of parchment.
"Captain Tiergan, your presense is requested in Tortuga"
"And to whom do I owe this honor?" she requested. The messenger gulped.
"Captain... Captain"
"Oh, spit it out"
"Captain Jack Sparrow."