Assassin of the Black Flag(open)

"You're about to see," Sam called as he launched himself onto the old structure. There was almost something childish about the competition, if one had witnessed the whole event, they would have sworn that it was a competition between two old friends without a care in the world.
An old brown eagle soared through the sky as Elizabeth reached the top of the wooden structure.
"Better luck next time, Sam" she laughed as Samuel reached the top of the structure. The clouds had begun to darken and a magpie sailed through the air, there was a group of deer grazing not too far from the old viewpoint.
"While there may be plenty of trees here, they're not what you need to fix the Soul Wave. Why don't we go hunt some deer and that jaguar? I've got plenty of oak stowed away on the Tiger Shark, you may take as much as you need. I'll even get my men to help your crew patch up your brig once the storm passes." Elizabeth looked at the floor below her, as always, there was a pile of leaves to catch her fall.
"See you on the ground" Elizabeth said as she took a leap of faith and landed in the leaves below her.

Samuel "Snakefang" Donnelly

He smiled at her offer and chuckled when she launched shelf off the viewpoint. That one was indeed something else. In all his years of being on the open sea and in the Brotherhood, he had never met someone that unique. He looked around for a moment, the feel of the wind swift in his hair. This was what made being an Assassin worth while, at least to him. This was a life he had always known, since he was a child.

Sam thought about his family. His father had trained both him and his brother to defend themselves at a young age. However, the pair had never been trained as an Assassin until their tenth birthday. At sixteen, that's when shit had gotten real. Both had just been sworn into the Brotherhood when Sam's brother began to question the Brotherhood and the Creed. Sam looked down toward the leaves, still lost in thought.

It hadn't taken long for his brother to go rogue. He attacked the assassin bureau where they had trained and he had a Templar with him. Both of them had escaped, but not before he stole something from his brother; his honor. Samuel left the bureau only after discovering his parents had been attacked during a mission and were killed. After that, Sam had never trusted another Assassin, nor stayed in one bureau for too long.

Samuel shook his head, his hair flying into his face. He took a deep breath of air to clear his thoughts and leapt off the viewpoint without even bothering to prepare himself. He wanted the rush to forget. Halfway down, Sam flipped so that his back was the first thing to hit the leaves. He sprang out when he had settled and brushed bits of leaves off his tunic. "I really don't want to risk my ship in a storm," he rumbled softly, trying to block out his memories. "She's banged up enough as it is."

Elizabeth was looking at the storm clouds when she heard Samuel land in the leaves behind her.
"I really don't want to risk my ship in a storm. She's banged up enough as it is."
"I know you invited me on a hunt, but this storm is moving in way too fast for my liking. I'm sorry but we need to get back to our brigs and do whatever we can to ensure that they sustain as little damage as possible." Elizabeth ran off to the Tiger Shark as fast as she could. Running against the wind slowed her slightly and and her breathing was laboured but she would not stop for anything.

"Haul in every scrap of cloth" Elizabeth shouted as she boarded the Tiger Shark. Elizabeth grabbed the brig's wheel and turned the Tiger Shark to face the oncoming waves. The wind and rain joined forces and became a squall.
"We're not going to make it, captain! The jib is taking in too much wind!"
"I'll be damned if I let the devil sink her today. Lower the anchors, three on each side" Elizabeth shouted before Johnson took over. Elizabeth had almost lost her brig to a storm before so she had extra anchors installed as a precaution. Elizabeth quickly ran to the front of her brig and cut the jibs from their rigging while some of her crew held onto the cloth to prevent them from flying off into the wind.
"We'll take them down below, captain!"
"Aye, lads! McGee, come with me" Elizabeth shouted as she raced off the Tiger Shark and back into the jungle.

There were two deer trapped under a fallen tree so Elizabeth took her twin boarding axes and wedged one into the head of each deer. Elizabeth quickly removed the axes and returned them to their holsters.
"Haul them out" Elizabeth shouted as she lifted the tree off of her prey. McGee quickly did as he was told.
"Take the stag back to the Tiger Shark!"
"What about you, captain?"
"I'll be fine! There's some men on the Soul Wave that need feeding! Just get that meat to the brig and have Williams cook it up! Now go!" McGee ran off as Elizabeth tied the doe's ankles together and slung it over one shoulder and under the other, at this point, the doe looked less like a deer and more like a macabre bag. She grabbed some nearby mushrooms and raced to the Soul Wave.

"Sam, do you think your cook will mind if I use his kitchen" Elizabeth asked as she stood in front of her fellow assassin on the deck of his brig. The rain pounded down on her and her kill, locks of her raven hair clung to her face.

"If you'd both just look outside, you'll see that the sky's turning gray. A. BLOODY. STORM. IS. COMING."

Dosset has been trying to convince the two guards guarding his cell for half an hour now and the only thing that he has managed to do was convince himself that they were too dense to listen to any of his words. "What's worst than being imprisoned? Being imprisoned with these two helpless sods guarding you." he thought to himself, shaking his head in dissapointment.


"Our Captain told us not to trust you, so why should we?"one of the guards asked. Why was it he could master the many variations of the world's language with perfect timing, structure, and intonation, but not make a decent conversation with these two guards? Surely small talk should be reducible to perhaps a few hundred typical questions, delineated into conversation trees according to the conversant's responses, how well one knew the conversant, what the current events were, and one's position relative to the conversant.

Timing of the questions and the length of one's responses would have to be studied as well, but many conversations required exact timing, too, and Dosset's rhythm was perfect. One might have to take into account the physical setting: one would speak differently while trapped in a cell than in a tavern. Topics of study should include how to deal with distractions, appropriate degrees of eye contact or physical touch, taking into account cultural variations, and of course the differences in speaking with men and women, subdivided by wether one were oneself a man or a woman. Dosset supposed he might have to include children in the study as well, and it would be important to include how to speak with those toward whom you had varying degrees of friendship or interest, romantic or otherwise. Or should it? Should one make small talk differently with a woman whom you thought you might like to befriend thant with a woman you had no interest in? Were there socially appropriate ways to curtail dull conversations?

That made Dosset smile. In his book, which is still a work in progress, curtailing dull conversations would be a very useful tip. Still, reality was against him. He had no way of continuing it while trapped in this God forsaken ship.

"But you're not really listening, are you mate?" the guard said.

Dosset realized that the guard had been talking for some time. It had all been meaningless blabbering about his devoted loyalty to his Captain, but Dosset had forgotten to pretend to be paying attention. "Not until you believe me."

The guard waved it away, and Dosset realized that the two guards were almost relieved that he was back to acting the way they expected after a few days without food --- Dosset, the distracted, oblivious genius, big brain and bigger talent who was now hungrier than a pack of wild coyotes. It made them feel superior. "You're just aching for a warm meal, aren't ya?" one of the guards asked.

Dosset shook his head. Denying the truth.

"None of ya are getting another warm meal once that storm hits. Might as well suffer together."

He slumped back to the corner of his cell, but then one of the guards cocked an eyebrow at him. It was an I'm-starting-to-believe-in-you look. Dosset grimaced in amusement.

"There are no signs of rough sailing, your words of warning lack facts Templar." one of the guards said, a hint of doubt could be heard in his voice.

Dosset grinned --- he might have gotten through their thick heads after all. "You might want to see the facts for yourself mate." Dosset pointed at the coconut-sized hole on the top of his cell.

The guard frowned at the sight of water leaking through the hole. The once white clouds were now as dark as coal and sounds of thunder were starting to rumble uptop. "By the Gods... we need to help out the others. S-s-someone warn the Captain!"

Dosset laughed out loud. The guards were now hurrying top deck to help their shipmates and warn their beloved Captain and his guest. He can feel the turbulence of the ship as the waves turn wild. "I'd love to help the lot of you." Dosset lifted his hands up, showing his chains "But as you can see, I'm sort of tied up with something at the moment." he made sure the guards hear his clever repartee. It was too good to be left unheard.

(Sorry Dosset. I can't read two sets of long responses at once)

Samuel "Snakefang" Donnelly

He too had begun to shout instructions to his crew as they scurried around the deck. Then he heard Liz's voice behind him and he quickly shouted below deck. "Oye, Stewy,"
"Yea Captain,"
"Mistress Elizabeth is coming below deck to utilize the kitchen,"
"On your word Captain," Sam nodded to Elizabeth to take her kill below deck before he returned to shouting orders. He heard wood snapping and yelled. "Get those sails down," he cried, rain soaking his hair and clothes.

"Don't let them fly away!"
"You heard the captain," Jackson shouted, his own short hair wet. "Get those sails in!" Water crashed against the hull, sending mists and small waves on deck. "Drop anchor!" Shouted Samuel, rushing up onto the masts to help his men take down the sails.

(I have never tasted deer but I do eat Kudu on a regular basis so I'm assuming that the flavours are vaguely similar.)

Elizabeth threw the deer on the table and spread it out on the table. Not wanting to get her robes or shirt dirty, Elizabeth took them off and set them in front of the stove to dry.
"Stewy, would you mind fetching me a few buckets" Elizabeth asked as she took out her hunting knife and began to skin the deer.
"Two buckets, mistress" the old cook said as he set the buckets down at the end of the table. Elizabeth threw the pelt aside and grabbed the doe by the ankles and held it over a bucket, "If you would be so kind as to open this old girl up for me and hollow her out, I would greatly appreciate it."

*SPLAT*

The deer's organs landed neatly in the bucket, a bit of blood splashed out onto the floor but Elizabeth would clean that up later.
"Clean the meat for me while I take a look at your stock."
"Aye, mistress." Elizabeth looked at the dismal stock of ingredients, hoping that she would find something to make the food palatable. Some onions and a bit of the cook's whiskey was all that she could find.
"Mind if I use some of this" Elizabeth asked as she shook the bottle of whiskey.
"Go ahead, mistress. I'm more of an ale man."
"Thanks mate. You may stay and help me cook if you want. I could actually use the help" Elizabeth said with a smile.
"Sure thing."

Once she was sure her clothes were dry, Elizabeth put her clothes back on and returned to her cooking. She stirred in the mushrooms before she covered the deer's pelt with some salt.

"Deer stew in the galley" Elizabeth shouted as she appeared on the deck with a small pot under her arm. Luckily the rain had calmed slightly, but it was still cold and bleak and above all, miserable.
"I had the steward take a bowl up to your quarters, Sam" Elizabeth said as she passed the assassin on the way back to her cell.

"I can watch the prisoner for now, you two head to the galley and get yourself something to eat."
"Thanks, mistress" the guards replied as they rushed out of the room leaving Elizabeth standing with the small pot under her arm and the templar locked in the cell. Elizabeth placed the pot on the table and pulled some spoons and two small bowls from her pocket before she proceeded to pour the stew into the bowls and poured some rum into a glass. Elizabeth decided it was only proper to eat with a guest so she joined Dosset in his cell, locked the door behind her, removed Dosset's chains and handed him a bowl of the stew and the glass of rum.
"My mother always said a good meal should be enjoyed with good company, and while this may not be a good meal, I believe it will be far more satisfying than tack and junk, Dante. I have some tealeaves in my chest if you would like a good cup of tea after this. I'll also need to check on your wounds soon" Elizabeth said with a smile as she sat beside the templar.

Dosset sat by himself. His clothes were wet from the leaking water above him and his butt was sore from all the sitting. If he never saw another prison cell again, it would be too soon. He closed his eyes and sigh, only the heavenly odors coming from the kitchen keeping him from going to sleep immediately.

In what was obviously a terrible weather, most of the men on the ship were uptop helping their Captain out with the sails. Dosset ignored the men and the ruckus they're making. He only opened his eyes when Elizabeth unlocked his chains and set a pot of stew on the table in front of him, along with an impressive tankard of rum.

"My mother always said a good meal should be enjoyed with good company, and while this may not be a good meal, I believe it will be far more satisfying than tack and junk, Dante. I have some tealeaves in my chest if you would like a good cup of tea after this. I'll also need to check on your wounds soon" she said smiling at him.

Dosset yawned. "Ah, excuse me," he said rather awkwardly. "Sure, your company is always welcome."

"The food looks amazing." Dosset mumbled, and began attacking the stew. Elizabeth watched him in silence as he ate. He felt a twinge of suspicion, wondering what his mentor Gideon would have said if he knew Dosset was eating food served to him by an Assassin, but he hadn't eaten for two days---maybe three days---and he needed the energy, so what the hell? Besides, the stew was good, but the rum was better.

Not for the first time, he wondered if there were more people like her in the Creed. He's already in his twenties, but he had only met two to three decent Assassins that could tolerate Templars as much as she does, why? Adversity perhaps. But he had risked his life for her, and she for him. Was that only because Dosset was injured, and she felt pity for him? Dosset wondered sometimes if there was a downside to him being a Templar. He could live for many years. He could avoid being killed by many Assassins. But he wasn't immortal. He didn't feel the sense of power that, when he was a boy, he thought he would feel once he became a Templar. He was a Templar now, a Grand Master Templar, and he felt he was still just Dosset. Still the arrogant and clueless child he once was.

Dosset finished his meal and wiped out the leftovers that were stuck on his lips with the sleeves of his trenchcoat. "That was a great meal Eli--Ely? Eliza?" He stopped to think of some other options, but he was too full to come up with anything else. "Thank you, I promise I will return the favor someday." The leak above his cell was starting to look like a miniature waterfall, the weather is getting worse. "Looks like Sam's going to need more help." he raised an eyebrow and gave her a look that tells her he understands. "Go. We'll have more time to talk later. Besides, I won't be going anywhere."Dosset smiled reassuringly.

"The food looks amazing." Elizabeth watched silently as Dosset wolfed down the food. She had never had the privilege of having someone enjoy her cooking, mostly because she never had time to cook or she had deliberately poisoned the food and her victims didn't live long enough to complement her cooking. The life of a pirate and assassin never allowed Elizabeth the time to cook but, thanks to what little she had learnt from her mother, she knew enough to get by.

"That was a great meal Eli--Ely? Eliza?" Dosset didn't know it but he had managed to pull her out of the rabbit-hole before she fell in too far. Elizabeth took a sip of her rum to steady her nerves.
"Thank you, I promise I will return the favour someday."
Elizabeth followed Dosset's gaze to the hole above them.
"I guess the rain's come back, with a vengeance" Elizabeth mused before she took another sip of her rum.
"Looks like Sam's going to need more help" Dosset said as he gave Elizabeth a look of understanding, "Go. We'll have more time to talk later. Besides, I won't be going anywhere." Elizabeth laughed, she knew the chaos that a ship went through during a storm, sometimes it could be hysterical. The smile on her face disappeared, replaced by a visage one would see at a funeral.
"I know. I'm sorry but I'm going to have to tie you up again, I hope you can understand" Elizabeth said sadly as she grabbed Dosset's chains. She couldn't bring herself to look Dosset in the eye so she quickly clad him in his chains, grabbed all the dishes, locked the cell, and raced to the stairs. She paused for a second at the base of the stairs, "Lizzie, you may call me Lizzie. If you want to." She tried to mask the pain in her voice, her brief trip down the rabbit-hole had unearthed memories that she had kept buried for thirteen years.
"It's not right to show somebody such kindness then lock them up like a dog. Christ, Shay, pull yourself together" Elizabeth thought to herself as she climbed the stairs.

*CRACK*

It hadn't even been five minutes since Elizabeth had left the cell when she ripped off the old boards and the water suddenly flooded in leaving Dosset looking like a drowned rat. Elizabeth wanted to apologise but she figured it was in their best interest that she should fix the deck as soon as possible. She set two new planks in place and nailed them down before she sealed them with pitch and tar.
The few men that were standing on the deck of the Tiger Shark noticed Elizabeth's actions and began to sing the old tavern song, "William Taylor", much like they did when Elizabeth helped with the repairs on the Tiger Shark.

Samuel "Snakefang" Donnelly

He nodded as the sails dropped in and took a deep breath, glad the storm was calming down. "Keep her steady lads," he called, ducking into his cabin, stripping off his outfit and hanging them near a small fireplace to dry. Then entered the cook. "Thank you Stewy." The cook nodded and placed the steaming bowl on the desk. "How'd your hunt go captain,"
"Never got around to it," he admitted, taking a spoonful of the stew. "The storm came in too fast."
"And what of the prisoner sir," Sam paused, some stew dripping from the spoon back into the bowl.

"My superior will get him to squeal," he rumbled, taking the spoon. "I know it's not my place to ask," began Stewy. "But who exactly is your superior, Captain?" Again, Sam paused, a strip of venison dripping into the bowl. "Assassin," he began slowly, appearing to suddenly loose his appetite. "Rumors have gone around that he's a Rogue Templar."

"Now that the hole is fixed, I may as well head back inside. No sense in trying to fix this brig in a storm." Elizabeth picked up the hammer and the damaged wood before she headed back to the Tiger Shark. She dropped the hammer off at the carpenter's workshop along with the wood. Elizabeth stormed off to her quarters.

"Are you alright, captain?"
"I'm fine, Johnson. Please leave" Elizabeth said softly as she wiped a tear from her eye. She was thankful that Johnson couldn't see what she was doing.
"Not until you..."
"LEAVE" Elizabeth shouted as she slammed her fist into her desk. Her shouting was so loud, it could be heard from across the brig. Johnson was frozen in fear, but he soon recovered and ran out the room as quickly as he could. Elizabeth threw everything off her desk in a fit of rage. She grabbed a bottle of rum before she stormed out of her quarters and raced off into the jungle.

Elizabeth sprinted through the jungle for an hour before she collapsed in a puddle. Her gasps for air soon turned into a violent fit of sobs, then, a fire stirred inside of her. She hated everything, but most of all, she hated herself. She hated herself for not being able to save her parents, for not being accepted, for having to leave Dosset at the mercy of the assassins, for chaining him up like an animal because he was a templar. But the real reason she hated herself, was because of the monster she had become. Elizabeth looked up at the clouds and screamed in anger before she became a sobbing wreck yet again. She longed to see her friends again, to make sure her lover had not yet been found out and was not suffering like Dosset.

"Captain Shay" Johnson shouted as he boarded the Soul Wave. Having heard no response from his captain, Johnson turned to the nearest crewman, "Where is your captain? I must speak with him immediately!"

"In his chambers sir," answered the crew member, pointing just below the wheel. "But I wouldn't bother him just yet. He's a talkin' to Stewy he is." This one sounded more pirate than anyone else that made the Soul Wave home. Almost as if on cue, Stewy left the captain's quarter and returned to the kitchen.

"Pardon the intrusion, captain Donnelly, but have you seen captain Shay recently?" Johnson stood in the doorway, terrified of what the young captain would do. Johnson was used to the pirates with whom Elizabeth was friends, but he was wary of the assassin after the incident between Donnelly and Shay. Not wanting to let his fear show, Johnson planted his feet firmly on the floor and stood there like the 6 foot tall warrior that he was.

The water has ceased to flow into his cell. Elizabeth had given him the opportunity to once again think. About what exactly? Anything.

When Dosset finds his world in chaos, he remembers that the notes are in order. The chromatic scale is mapped out, like his music sheets back in Greenwich, just simple black and white. He finds a form of order in that.

The sheet music has a raised texture for his fingers to feel. It was a christmas present from his deceased wife. The truth is, Dosset hardly read a note of sheet music. He always plays by ear. Because for him, music is the closest things to "seeing". He doesn't mean knowing where you are going. he means seeing, the way you'd look at a painting.

A major was the empty hole you feel in your stomach when your parents die and you have not yet become what they wanted you to be.

F major is the color of your heart when you've had your first kill.

F minor is the black and blue on your face as you tell your mentor that you're going to follow your parent's footsteps.

A minor is a shadow. It reminds you of waking up in a permanent midnight.

The joke is that your four other senses work so well it hurts. It reminds you that each note has two shades, like a secret identity. Every chord has a color, the way every memory has color, the way memory has a scent. Between the echo of the notes still in his head, Dosset hears something else drift through the window. Something familiar to him.

"Dante---" a voice swayed

It was Clara Coxall's. The Femme Fatale. Former Grand Master of the Templar Order, and his deceased wife.

"Dante I've known you long enough to tell that you only try to play that thing in your head when something was bothering you." the voice was now closer than before. "What is it, dear?"

Dosset knew that this was all in his head. His wife was dead, she couldn't possibly be here. Or at least, not physically. There were only two possibilities:

a.He was mentally ill
b.Love holds a greater bond that carries on even after death

He cleared his throat, and with an unsure tone, replied to the voices in his head. "I thought that I have made peace with you. But then I'll catch an old scent and the floor boards creek when the wind blows and I half expect you to be here to tell me that it's all going to be okay."

There was a moment of silence before she answered. A gripping and uncomfortable silence. "I'm always here if you need to talk." she said.

I keep playing the notes in my head. Then the voice was gone, just like the primroses at winter.

(OOC: He's talking to himself, my character suffers from psychosis.)

Elizabeth mumbled profanities as she looked down at the ground below her from her vantage point in the tree before she returned to her bottle of rum.
"Oh rot" she grumbled when she found that the bottle was empty. She jumped down from her perch and felt a surge of pain in her leg as she hit the floor, "Well that's just great!" Elizabeth threw the empty bottle to the floor before she headed back to the Soul Wave.

"Captain? Oh thank god." Elizabeth shot McGee a steely glare, "I'm just here for more rum, you know where I'll be."
"I suppose I should tell the men you're alright?"
"Aye, and make sure we have enough supplies. We're to start repairing the Soul Wave as soon as we are able."

Johnson was in the process of leaving Donnelly's quarters when Elizabeth stormed past him, he quickly turned around, "Never mind, she's back."

Elizabeth hounded the guards out of the room and headed straight to her chest. She rummaged through her medicine chest, retrieved a bottle from its depths, kicked off her boots, and examined her injured leg.
"Just a fracture" she thought before she tipped some of the bottle's contents onto the wound and smoothed it into her skin before she put her boots back on. Elizabeth filled a tiny metal pot with some water from her canteen and set it over a torch to boil. Elizabeth freed Dosset's hands from his irons and handed him the cup of tea and a small vial of sugar.
"How is the pain, Dante" Elizabeth enquired as she sat in the corner of the cell, hood drawn, and nursing the bottle of rum.

(Okay, this is officially going nowhere. RANDOM TEMPLAR)

Bryan "Sharkheart" Waverley

The rain had ceased to a drizzle. He had been watching the two ships from a distance and already he knew a fellow Templar was being held hostage. He would have to remedy that soon. He already knew where the other Templar was, as he had watched and listened to the Captains of each ship and he had come to the conclusion that his Brother was held on the most damaged ship called the Soul Wave.

( I'm trapped man. I was waiting for the ship to dock for some action, got it all planned out. But a random Templar's fine too )

"I've been through worse Lizzie." he said while fixing his sitting position. The fracture on his ribs were painful, but it can be treated with different variations of herbs. The wound of the mind on the other hand is permanent. Dosset took a sip of the tea that Lizzie had made for him, it was herbal, probably something she looted from a Chinese ship. It was bitter, sure, but the fluids were helping him to calm himself after the previous hallucination. "The eye of the storm has passed, so why do I still feel that we're all in danger?" He asked Lizzie without looking at her, his eyes were fixated on the metal steel bars keeping him in. Dosset's mind, on the other hand, was elsewhere.

The eye of the storm is a deception. A moment of calm that will pass as soon as it arrives. In that brief moment the world seems to freeze. No wind, no sound, no movement of any kind. Even the sunlight holds a still quality, as if that great burning orb was holding its cosmic breath. All hearts skip a beat as they wonder if it is really over. They have survived. The eyes of the fates seem to have looked away, towards a horizon far away. But no, they had merely blinked before resuming their vulturesque vigil.

"Sooner or later the Templars will come for me. I-I just want you to know that." A bleak expression has shrouded his face. "This storm may have ceased, but a storm is nothing compared to a Templar's wraith. Galen, Cassius, and the crew of the Magpie, they might not hurt you if I tell them to. But if it's Bryan Waverley, the Sharkheart...." Dosset stopped to find an appropriate word to use, a softer word, but nothing came up. "...just run. Sail as far away from here as poss---" before he could finish his sentence, a barrage of cannon fires can be heard from outside. The ship was being attacked.

"The eye of the storm has passed, so why do I still feel that we're all in danger?"
"That's because we're always in danger. Especially on the sea" Elizabeth mumbled under her breath.
"Sooner or later the Templars will come for me. I-I just want you to know that" Dosset exclaimed with a grim expression on his face.
"For your sake, I hope they do" Elizabeth mused as she drank from her bottle of rum.
"This storm may have ceased, but a storm is nothing compared to a Templar's wrath. Galen, Cassius, and the crew of the Magpie, they might not hurt you if I tell them to. But if it's Bryan Waverley, the Sharkheart.... Just run. Sail as far away from here as poss---" Dosset was explaining before the cannon fire cut him off.
Elizabeth laughed at the irony of the situation, she had prepared her brig for a storm and because of that, the Tiger Shark was incapable of escaping. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Dante. I cut the jibs from their rigging to avoid damage during the storm, so sailing away is not an option. It would take my crew an hour or so to put them up again, by then we'll be dead. Except you, obviously." Elizabeth drank from her bottle before she finally looked at Dosset, there was a spark of insanity in her eye, she refused to go down without a fight.
"Since I can only assume that is a Templar out there, probably that 'Sharkheart' fellow, I don't suppose you have any ideas as to how my men and I could survive your friend out there and not lose the Tiger Shark in the process. If you do, now would be an excellent time to tell me. Preferably within the next five minutes before I head back to my brig and rain hell upon that mopus that's trying to sink us."

Bryan "Sharkheart" Waverley

The canons sounding was unexpected and made him look up for a moment. Then a smile spread across his face. This would be fun, he thought. At least this surprise attack would give him time to enter the Soul Wave completely undetected. Bryan lifted his face mask and locked it into place before throwing his hood up so that his messy auburn hair was hidden and nothing was showing except his glowing emerald green eyes.

Quickly, he dashed for the ship his Templar brother was being held on and parkoured up the siding, using his momentum to climb all the way up. As soon as he was on board the ship, he could hear it's captain barking orders. "Keep her steady lads," Bryan heard as he made his way below deck. "Don't let her go down!" Bryan stayed hidden in the shadows of the interior of the ship, using boxes, crates and barrels of rum for cover.

Bryan licked his lips when he saw a guard stationed nearby and gave a soft whistle. The guard looked up and turned, curious though his weapon was down. Bryan reached down and grabbed his trusty dagger before he grabbed the man and slammed his blade into his stomach, pulling him behind the barrels before Bryan continued to search for his brother.

The Sharkheart had dispatched another guard before he made himself known to the cells. Upon seeing Elizabeth, his hand tightened on the shortsword he held, his eyes scanning her. He drew his arm back and took a step, like he was ready to run her through. However, he stopped upon seeing the Templar seal combined with that of the Assassin on her belt buckle. "Daughter of a Templar," he rumbled, his voice unusually dark sounding. He lowered his stance and slammed his sword back into its sheath before he turned to Dosset. "You ready to get out of this hellhole, my Brother?"

"Use that insignia," Dosset pointed at the Templar seal on Elizabeth's belt buckle. "Make him believe that you're one of us."

Sharkheart often regarded himself as the best Templar in the West Indies, but by most other member of the Order he was considered second to only Dosset himself; a fact that often enraged him and created much anger. He was an eager murderer, often causing maximum collateral damage, but in doing so appeared rather unprofessional. His love and thirst for bloodshed made him sloppy, arrogant, but most of all dangerous.

Why would he risk his life to save him? Dosset thought to himself. He must think that by saving him, he will be West Indie's number one. Hmph, selfish as usual. That will never happen as long as he still continues his inhumane sadistic streak. There were scuffling sounds coming from the hallway and a burly man came into sight. Most of his face was covered in shadows except for his emerald green eyes, and his hood had a beak that resembled a shark's head. "Sharkheart." Dosset spoke grizzly under his breath.

Sharkheart analyzed Elizabeth as soon as he saw her, his hands tightening on the shortsword he held. A moment of panic struck Dosset as Sharkheart drew his arm back, ready to run her through. He was ready to block the attack with the chains on his arms, but the attack never came. "Daughter of a Templar," Sharkheart rumbled, his voice unusually dark sounding. The man was known to only have sympathy for his fellow Templars, Dosset knew this, now it's up to Elizabeth to play her role. "You ready to get out of this hellhole, my Brother?" Sharkheart asked as he sheathed his sword. "To an even bigger hellhole? Sure, why not?" Dosset replied him with a certain suavness before getting himself up to his feet.

Three armed men were coming down the stairs toward the cells. Dosset recognized two of them as the men who had guarded him the other night.

"Be ready men, someone's down here." one of the guards said to the man Dosset didn't recognize.

"Must be one of that skinny ol Templar's friend." the other said.

Oh, it made a lovely quandary, didn't it? Here he was, maybe one of the most skilled Templars in the world. He could kill all three men before they could make a sound. And yet he probably couldn't even hurt them too badly. His hands were chained, and they would kill while he couldn't. Lovely.

They were only twenty paces away. "I-I-Intruders, attack them!" Of course they didn't bother to formulate their plan before they went forward and attacked them. That would be a bit professional.

One of the guards had drawn a blade and in an instant Dosset saw from the pools of darkness in his eyes a deep, unreasoning hatred spawned from some perceived slight. The man had killed before, and now he planned to kill him. And seeing that darkness that demanded death, it came to him that he'd seen it before. He'd seen it in Sharkheart's eyes. Only afterwards had he decided that he must have been imagining things.

The guard attacked and Dosset darted straight at him, evading the blade before punching through the guard's solar plexus with his steel chains, driving the air from his lungs and pinning him to the wall. The guard twitched. He was straining to breathe, but he couldn't because the steel chains had crushed his ribs and pushed them hard against the diaphragm. His legs were completely limp. Dosset must have at least partially broken his spine too, because the only thing keeping him standing were his hands pinning him to the wall.

The man was already dead, he just hadn't figured it out yet. Dosset pulled his hands back and the hoodlum fell. Dispassionately, he turned towards the other two guards and gave them a piece of advice.

"Basically, run."

[OOC: Okay, Elizabeth is acting like a big sister to Dosset at this point, even though she is actually younger than him. But hey, she is trying to protect a friend. As a person surrounded by loss, you will see that she isn't going to deal with it the way that most people would. Sorry if she seems clingy or weird, but I'm trying to make it seem like she still has a heart.]

"Use that insignia," Dosset pointed at the Templar seal on Elizabeth's belt buckle. "Make him believe that you're one of us." Elizabeth nodded her head and headed to her chest. She made sure her six flintlocks were loaded and her boarding axes were in their holsters. She fastened her hidden blades and, with a flick of her wrists, made sure that they still worked. Elizabeth took out a small vial and drank its contents, she didn't know much about 'Sharkheart' so she made sure she was ready for anything. She quickly took out a piece of paper and scribbled some notes.

"Dear Dante,

Thank you. Thank you for saving my life, whether it be from the assassins, from the templars, from boredom, or from myself.
Never look down upon yourself, even if you are a Templar, you are the most selfless person I have ever met.
I do not know if you share my sentiments, but I consider you to be one of my closest friends.
I know that our paths will cross again, one day. If ever we should meet again, by land or by sea, I will always remember your kindness to me.
If you should ever require my help, I will be there. Though the brotherhood will kill me if they ever find out, I will try my utmost to keep the assassins away from you.
I will be at Havana within a month for a week or two on business, I hope that we might meet there, as friends. If you are unable to make it to Havana on time, you know how to find me.

- Elizabeth Shay

P.S
The third side of a coin, the part that everyone overlooks, that is the wonderful mess of life and everything that we have in common. It is the glue that binds us all together, both the assassins and the templars."

Elizabeth quickly made sure everything was in her chest, closed it and readied herself for the upcoming fight. She made sure her emblem and her father's ring were as visible as possible. "Is it halloween already" Elizabeth thought to herself when Waverley entered the room, her right hand rested on the hilt of one of her boarding axes.
"Come on, I dare you," she mused when Waverley drew his arm back and took a step towards her, "That's right, run me through." Waverley's eyes fell on Elizabeth's emblem, "Daughter of a templar" he rumbled in a tone as dark as the night itself. She eyed the masked Templar cautiously as he returned his weapon to its sheath and turned to Dosset, "You ready to get out of this hellhole, my Brother?"
"To an even bigger hellhole? Sure, why not?" Elizabeth assumed that there must have been some bad blood between Dosset and Waverley.

Elizabeth wasn't expecting Donnelly's men to come in at that moment, "How typical. That's what happens when you don't have a plan or if you don't even bother to asses the situation or your enemies" she mused as she watched Dosset and Waverley fight the guards and succeed in killing them.
Elizabeth looked at Dosset and smiled, even though she had only known him for a few days, Elizabeth had come to see Dosset as a good friend, someone she would risk her life for, should the occasion arise.

When Dosset backed away from the man he had killed, Elizabeth finally decided to pitch in and send a message, not to Donnelly, but to Waverley. Elizabeth calmly removed an axe from its holster, approached Dosset's victim and glared at Waverley, "I swear to whatever gods you worship, if any harm should come to Dante--" Elizabeth began to explain before she turned to Dosset's victim and, with one swift motion, chopped off his head and kicked it to Waverley, "I will hunt you down and gut you like a fish!" Elizabeth turned to Dosset and handed him the letter and a vial. In a moment of weakness, Elizabeth hugged her friend farewell and a smile spread across her face, "I will miss you, my friend" she whispered before she finally let go of Dosset.

Bryan "Sharkheart" Waverley

He nodded briefly. One thing he always did was remain silent, killing or not. It was his unique signature mark, something that earned him the nickname "Silent Demon" among the other Templars. "Let's go," he rumbled. "Before more assassins come."

"Let's go, before more assassins come" Waverley rumbled.
"Not a word about this, nobody is to know that I let you escape. The assassins already despise me, I would hate to give them more reason to hate me" Elizabeth growled in response as she pushed her sea-chest into the corner of the cell.

"You are reckless and impatient, this will bring about your downfall" Ah Tabai's voice rang through Elizabeth's mind as clear as a bell, it almost sounded like he was standing right there, and she mentally had an argument with him. It was her way of trying to convince herself to not betray the Brotherhood, warning her of what would happen if she were caught. She shook her head and decided to ignore the voices in her head, however compelling their reasoning was. Elizabeth had made up her mind, for the first time in her life, she was going to do what she knew in her heart was right and not what the assassins told her was right, she was going to embrace her father's blood.
"Forgive me, brothers, but this is something that I need to do." Elizabeth knew that Donnelly would notice the escape of the two templars, that he would go after them, and she wasn't particularly keen on that.

"I cannot deny it any longer. I am an assassin by blood and trade, but I am also a templar by blood, and it's time I finally embraced that part of me. Just for a day."

Elizabeth turned to face the templars, "May the father of understanding guide you" Elizabeth said with one last smile, and with that, she was gone. Elizabeth had handed her life over to the devil and it was up to him to decide her fate. Besides, she had well over 50 men in her crew that were willing to risk their lives for the safety of their captain. That was if they weren't all dead.

Elizabeth fought against Donnelly's men valiantly in an effort to draw Samuel's attention away from the templars, and to buy enough time for her men to reattatch the jibs and prepare the Tiger Shark for their escape.

Bryan "Sharkheart" Waverley

He could hear Samuel shouting to his men not to harm Elizabeth. He couldn't help but smile as he helped Dosset up, wrapping an arm across his shoulders. "Let's go," he rumbled quietly, dropping the use of his voice as he hauled Dosset out of the ship. Silently, he led his fellow Templar deep into the forest of the island until they were safe.

Bryan didn't feel right about leaving Elizabeth to face the Assassins by herself. "Wait here," he breathed to Dosset before he dodged back to the ships, pulling out his bow and stringing a bow before he shot a man that had snuck up on Elizabeth. He began to wave violently, telling her to follow him quickly. There was a reason he hardly ever spoke. He didn't want to risk his enemies knowing his voice.

"They made it" Elizabeth sighed with relief as she dropped her swords. She couldn't understand why Samuel had ordered his men not to harm her even though she had just attacked his men. McGee had managed to retrieve her chest from the cell.

"Jibs are attached, captain."
"Good, get the Tiger Shark to the rear of the island." McGee rushed back to the Tiger Shark with the large sea-chest in tow. The sails of the Tiger Shark unfurled and it set sail.

Elizabeth freed her boarding axes from their holsters and continued to fight Donnelly's men. A loud thud echoed behind her and Elizabeth turned to see one of Donnelly's crewmen lying on the deck with an arrow sticking out of his chest. She noticed Waverley waving violently at her in an effort to get her to follow him. Elizabeth nodded and threw an old smoke bomb onto the deck, the resulting cloud gave her enough time to escape the Soul Wave and race off to where she last saw Waverley.

"Let's go, before they come after us" Elizabeth said as she joined Waverley.

(OOC: Sorry I was busy with final exams and today's my only freetime)

Could it be? Has Bryan "Sharkheart" Waverley's deleterious persona evanesced into a more honorable and heroic one? He has saved Dosset from Samuel's clutches and now he's going back to help out Elizabeth, a woman he barely even knew. Even though Dosset believes that people can change, the Waverley that has saved him, that has risked his life for him, was still too good to be true.

After he had helped himself sit up against a tree, Dosset saw another body lying broken inside a cave not ten feet away. A privateer lost and abandoned. The darkness didn't frighten him now. His limbs were mangled but his face looked at peace. His eyes held no accusation. They held nothing.

The most passion that Dosset could wake was simple regret. He was sorry for the man, who'd never even told him how he ended up rotting in that cave. He was sorry for all the things he would never do. He had never truly desired this life. He'd always suspected that being a Templar was far harder than it looked. He was right, but he was too scared that people wouldn't remember him as someone who mattered.

Now, as he sat back propped against a tree that could someday be used as material to build someone's house, he missed the simpler things. He missed the sunlight. He missed the smell of grass, of fresh rain, of sand. He missed Jing Lang and all her trivialities. He missed his wife. Clara was so young, so smart, so pretty. She had been a diamond found and then lost forever. He missed Cassius and Galen, his best friends.

Dosset wished for love and children and the running of his house back in Greenwich. A simple life, a big family, a few close friends. That would give him all the immortality he needed.

For a while, he prayed to the Gods above. There was nothing else to do, and Waverley was still meddling near the ships. He even prayed to the Father of Understanding. He wasn't sure how one was supposed to pray to the entity that understands everything. Why would he care? Dosset gave it up.

Mostly, he tried to ignore the pain.

He was about to close his eyes to try to die again--or dream, whichever--when the sound of a smoke bomb exploding echoed. The deck belched acrid smoke, and the figure Dosset glimpsed for an instant was devoured into the thick cloud and darkness. Then, as the cloud dissipated, a demon strode out of it.

It was Elizabeth. She retreated to Waverley's side, but that was as far as she would retreat. Dosset stood up, his dark blue eyes fixed on her. "Let's go, before they come after us." she said. He nodded in agreement and turned to Waverley. "Lead the way brother. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can get these chains off my arms." Dosset was grinning to cover up his pain. Elizabeth wasn't able to tend to his wounds because of the attack and the herbal tea from before was losing its effects. "Oh and Waverley, can you send one of your men to retrieve my weapons somewhere on the Assassin's ship? My obsidian cane and flintlock pistol, the Captain had confiscated them and I am in no condition to fight." Dosset grinned again. He sounded very weak, he is aware of that, but a man has got to know his limits. He's not a fool.