Vengeance

Everything the man had just said and done, it all pushed Jennifer over the edge. She quickly drew her sword, and pointed it straight at him, a devilish sneer on her face. She took a few steps towards him until she was only a few inches away from his face, the tip of her sword gently pressed against his throat.
"Aye, I'm British, but that don' mean I have te side with the bastards that don' give a shite 'bout their own people! We were bein' taxed te death, gettin' poorer by the day while the higher ups were gettin' fatter, meaner, an' greedier!" She had a thick Irish accent, which seemed to have only revealed itself when she was angry. Jennifer moved a little bit closer to the man, and pressed her sword against him a little more. "A pretty face?! Tha' all ye see! An upstandin' member of society?! BY CHRIST! I suppose yer one of the gutless bastards takin' the pardon, eh? Remember, we all joined this because of a desire for freedom, an' aye, the gold don' hur'."

(Figure DannyBoy isn't coming back, so let's move on)

Jennifer quickly thrust her sword into the surgeon's chest, and removed it slowly, watching with a twisted smile as the body hit the floor. She stood there for a moment before she sheathed her sword as she studied the surgeon. She pulled a ring from one of his fingers, and stuffed in her pocket before grabbing her drink, and heading over to Marco.
"Sorry about that" Jennifer said with a sigh before taking a sip of her drink. She set a few coins on the table, and set all the pieces back to their starting positions. "I couldn't just let him insult these fine free folk, my father, his legacy, and the town he worked so hard to build."

"Suit yourself." Jennifer turned her attention to her drink as she watched the young man walk away.
"Jenny, maybe take it down a bit. You'll lose everyone if you don't learn to calm down" a young woman with red hair said as she handed Jennifer another drink.
"Lad needs to know what he's in for. Things have changed, and you know it."

As soon as Jennifer finished her drink, she headed back to her ship. Most of her men were on shore leave, so it was quiet on the ship for the first time in a quite a while. Jennifer leaned against the railing, and looked out over the ocean, a small smile on her face.
"I know you're up there, Lizzy" Jennifer said with a chuckle. A young woman in black Assassin robes leapt down from the mast, and landed neatly on the deck.
"Ah, you're too good at this, Jenny."
"I had good teachers, back at the Irish Brotherhood. Plus you're the only person I know that smells like strawberries."
"You mean the only person on this island that doesn't smell like piss?"
"Fair enough" Jennifer said with a chuckle. Jennifer headed into her cabin, and quickly changed into her own robes before joining her fellow Assassin, and heading out on a mission. Their target was a young woman, a known Templar that had been seen working with Torres, the Grand Master of the Templar Order.

As soon as the two women set eyes on their target, they ducked into the bushes, and began stalking their prey. The two of them moved incredibly quietly, blending into their surroundings perfectly.
"You do know the lad is following us?"
"Aye, let him follow us. Maybe he'll learn something" Jennifer said with a quiet chuckle. They followed the woman carefully until they reached a slightly secluded area. "Your kill, Liz. I took out the doctor." As soon as Elizabeth found an opening, she leapt out of her hiding spot, and pierced the woman in the chest with a hidden blade, grabbed her ring, and ran off. Jennifer let out a quiet chuckle, and started on her way back to her ship as people examined the body.

There was no fear in his eyes, only pity. Dewl saw anger in the poor woman's soul, one that cannot be quenched by mere words, one that would consume her entirely in the near future. He understood her suffering, but he could never agree with her. All the misdeeds that the British have done were unforgivable, that was true. But to try and change it with senseless violence and revenge is a fool's endeavor and Dewl, as blunt as he was to her, was only trying to free her from her ignorance.

He did not say a word as Jennifer rambled on. There was no point in trying to convince her that her ways were wrong. They were singing in a different vibration and moving to different metronomes. If they were to adjust themselves to each other's levels, they would only clash. Dewl knew that his silence would only provoke her even more. Therefore, he pushed her over the edge. Why? He wanted to prove his point. Do it, Jennifer. Prove to them that you have no other answer than that of violence. He thought to himself, waiting for the sweet embrace of her sword.

Jennifer's movement was swift. She thrust her sword deep into his chest, barely missing the heart. Dewl felt the pain spread throughout his body, it was cold and unforgiving. He trembled ever so slightly as he slumped onto the floor. The obsidian cane following his fall with a loud clank. Everything was becoming a blur; the voices, the faces, the smell. He could only groan with the last bit of energy he had left. Then, after a few brief moment, he fell unconscious.

Darkness. That was all there is. That was all that awaits. No light at the end of tunnel. No omnipotent being welcoming your arrival. No paradise. No hell. Just as expected. Dewl had accepted his fate. He was old, there was not much time left in him. Yet as he was getting himself acquainted with the eternal void, his senses came kicking back in. He could feel something warm near him, he could feel the air brushing off against his skin, and slowly he could see all the colors again.

"Urgh! If this is heaven, I can explain mys---" His words were cut off by a voice coming from his side. It was a gentle voice, perhaps even angelic. "You must rest. Talk later." Dewl adjusted his eyes to the room around him. It was small and dusty filled with barrels and bottle cabinets. "I have closed your wound and given you some herbs for the pain. It would take you a few hours before you are fully healed." A girl, probably in her teens, explained to him. She was tall, with brown hair and blue eyes. It was the barmaid from before. "Thank you, but I must really be go-- Argh!." Dewl groaned again in pain as he tried to put himself in a sitting position. "You are a surgeon, no? Then you must know how bad the wound is. Come now, rest. I'll check up on you after my shift." The barmaid calmly told him while she cleaned her tiny hands from all the blood with a wet rag. She was right, Jennifer and Marco can wait. Right now what was important was his health and so he decided to go back to sleep, or at least tried to. "That's it. Rest well Mr. Dewl." She blew the candles out and left the room. Only one question remained in Dewl's thoughts after her exit, how did she know his name?

Jennifer stopped at the tavern on her way to her ship. She presented the ring to an elderly Assassin, bowing slightly before heading back to her ship, taking in the beauty of the night as she walked. Upon arriving back at her ship, she entered her quarters, and took a seat at the desk. Jennifer poured herself some whiskey before she began writing out letters, and reading letters she had received. She had to look at her crew's requests and suggestions.
"God, dealing with Templars isn't even this painful."

Jennifer sat there sorting all the papers out for a good few hours, occasionally taking a break to head outside for some fresh air. She enjoyed the night, it was the only time she felt at peace. Well, as peaceful as a killer could feel. The old Assassin from the tavern arrived on the ship, confronting Jennifer. He had called her a shame to the Brotherhood multiple times, and a disgrace. Respecting his authority, Jennifer kept quiet throughout the whole ordeal. She hated herself for taking the constant abuse from the Assassins, and had often considered switching sides. After all, she had seen how freedom could destroy a country.

Time passed slowly. The hustle and bustle of the tavern was getting more quiet as dawn breaks. Through the hollow window, the early light of the sun was starting to appear. Dewl haven't been able to sleep peacefully due to the stab wound. The pain was keeping him company like an unseen specter. An unwanted company that had sworn to keep him awake. "I can't stand this. I need to clear my head." He mumbled to himself, struggling as he climbed out of bed and towards the window. Dewl sat on the opening, leaning his back on the wooden edges of the frame. His eyes were now fixated on the sky, the place that he will never reach. For a turtle is always grounded, it enjoys the stillness, but it likes to look at what's above and ponder.

A creak echoed as the door behind him opened. Dewl paid the sound no attention, but he knew it was the girl from before. Her shift must have been over. "Just like the sea, they are blue." He said to her. "Or at least they started as blue." The girl walked closer to him, intently listening as she does. "But then as dawn breaks, sudden sparks of yellow. One color, then another, until they all swirl around together into this beautiful image." She stopped right behind him and peered out the window, her hands forming a crutch for her head as she lay them on his legs. "Yes, but not so many people get to enjoy this view. Some are still deep in their slumber, while others they just take it for granted." The weight of her hands on Dewl's legs felt light, a feather's touch. He turned his gaze from the outside and towards her, he could see the sunlight illuminating parts of her beautiful brown skin, it looked as if she glowed. "Not me. I enjoy the simple pleasures." Slightly smirking, she asked him "Then why choose this life? Why fight? Why not rest and be still, enjoy the simple pleasures that you love?" A few seconds of silence struck the room. Dewl closed his eyes and leaned his head back to the wooden frame, leaving out a long and tired sigh before he answered. "Because if I do... Then I cannot fight for a better tomorrow. A better tomorrow for the people; my friends, family, even for the lass who stabbed me." With a slight smile on her face, the girl placed her hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly as if to assure him. "Then don't ever let that flame within you die Grand Master Dewl. The Order still needs you." There was a ring on her hand, one that he had not noticed before. It was the ring of the Templar Order. It was hope.

After knowing her affiliations with the Templar Order, the two began to engage in a deeper conversation. They talked about politics, philosophy, life. This went on for hours, and before they knew it, it was already morning. "Well, I must take my leave now Grand Master." She said to him while picking up her things from the wooden table near the bed. "Please, call me Dixie." Dewl was beginning to feel better, the herbs she had given him had shown good results. It felt as if he was a new man. "Very well then, Dixie. If you ever need any help, I'll be at the bar working my night shift. Just ask around for a Tilda Stokes." After the two exchanged a shake of hands, she left and Dewl readied himself to go outside for a stroll.

There was a hole in his shirt now from yesterday's near death experience, so he opted to button up his green coat for the time being. He hated doing that, especially in a tropical island such as Nassau. It was hot and his coat left no room for air to pass by. Dewl took his first few steps outside the tavern in the early morning, there were still a few people lounging around in the terrace of the place. Some unconscious from their night of drinking and some from the usual bar brawl. "Hopeless, the lot of them." He shook his head in disappointment as he carefully walked down the wooden stairs, avoiding puke, piss, bodies and blood. From afar, he could see Jennifer's ship still docked on the pier. It was only a couple of meters away from him. "I wonder how she's doing. She should have gotten promoted for killing a high ranked Templar such as myself." He said to himself as he made his way towards the last step and onto the wooden pathway. "Let's find out then." Dewl slowly limped forward, with each heavy step guiding him closer to his destination.

Jennifer was floating on her back in the water, watching the gulls fly overhead. She always loved the sounds they made, the sounds of them enjoying their freedom, free from the madness of war and greed. The salty waters of the ocean stung her flayed back which she had earned at the hands of her master the night before. The bleeding had finally stopped, but the pain was still there. Jennifer climbed out of the water, and headed back to her ship.

As she set foot on the deck of her ship, one of her men, likely a doctor of some sort, approached her, and took one look at her back before shaking his head, and leading her back to her quarters to tend to her.

The docking area was busy. Crates and barrels of assorted goods were being moved around at random intervals. Some belonged to the merchants, who had successfully brought their products from far off lands, ready to sell them at a reasonable or higher price. Most of them though belonged to the pirates, who were either restocking their ships or docking their loots for systematic trading. There were a few travelers here and there as well. People with wealth who were looking for adventure and desperate people who were only trying to make a new start. Dewl examined the activities around him while he walked. He could see some Nightshade inside some glass jars on a nearby stall, one that was filled with medicinal herbs. In large doses, it can be poisonous and it is known to be commonly used in voodoo rituals. With the right ingredients though, Dewl could fix up a concoction that would raise a person's strength and durability. But it must not be used too frequently as it produces side effects, such as: insanity and permanent muscle damage. He could smell ginseng inside a passing crate that was carried by someone from the orient. The root is known to have some healing qualities. Dewl had already made some notes on it as it would prove useful for one of his experimental beverages, one that could enhance stamina like none before. He could even hear the sound of exotic birds, each of them singing a different tune and far from their natural habitats. All of it was, in all honesty, a bit overwhelming. So many things to see, smell, hear. So many things to learn from. Unfortunately for him, right now, he was on his way to meet someone.

Upon his arrival at the ship's deck, he was greeted with iron swords and pistols. "We no want you Templar rasclaat on this ship. We saw you arguing with the captain before she stabbed you in the heart. Me would do the same thing if you make one step closer." The man's accent was Jamaican. Dewl noticed that the crew on this ship wasn't all Irish or English. Only a good captain could keep these people together for so long. More often than not, they would fight over their differences rather than focus on their similarities. Not this time though, or at least, not yet. "Oh calm your tits down, why don't ya?" He playfully said to the man, raising both his hand as an act of surrender. "I'm not here to cause you any trouble. I'm only here to talk with your captain as I have some unfinished business with her." Many of the crew were still tense, their hands ready to fire or to strike at any moment. "Well, if you don't believe me. Then please do take my pistol and cane away. Hell, I'll even give you my surgical tools just to be safe." Dewl threw both his pistol and cane down at the floor, he then proceeded to unbutton the pockets on his belt and started to do the same thing for all of his surgical tools. To make it even more convincing, he threw away his coat as well, revealing the torn shirt underneath. "Now, if you don't mind. Do tell me where your captain is, this old man doesn't have a lot of time left in him." The crew looked at each other in confusion, they did not know what to do. They wanted to kill him right there and then, but they were curious about the nature of the business that Dewl had talked about and they were not taking any chances. "You're a madman." The Jamaican said to him bluntly. "No, just foolishly brave. Thank you." he replied with a sly smile on his face.

Jennifer emerged from her cabin wearing some old pants and a bit of fabric covering her breasts, wondering what all the fuss was about; the angry doctor was following close behind her. Upon seeing Dewl, Jennifer hung her head.
"I'm going to get it bad for this... As if last night wasn't bad enough." Jennifer pulled on the coat which one of her men had taken off and given to her. She thanked him, and turned to Dewl. "I see you survived our encounter last night. The way things are going right now, that may very well be a good thing." Jennifer packed her pipe with some Jamaican funk she had gotten from Hornigold, and lit it, taking a long deep pull, holding it for a few moments before exhaling. It helped ease her pain a considerable amount. "So what brings you to our proud vessel, Dewl?"

Calmly, Dewl puts both of his hands down into his pockets. He can feel the tension slowly easing with the appearance of their captain. The squawking seagulls above and the crashing waves below brought sound to the silent deck. They were all waiting for an answer. It was flight or fight. "Well..." Dewl finally spoke, coughing once or twice just to get his throat working. "First of all, tea would be nice." He looked around at the crew for a bit only to saw their disappointed faces at his answer. Honestly, they shouldn't be expecting something too exciting like a battle to the death or something akin to that. Dewl was not in the mood, and by the looks of it, both him and the captain were not in good shape to do any fighting. "Or we could talk over something more heavy, such as whisky? Or rum?" He added, playfully winking at Jennifer. "Now for the rest of you, I have an interesting offer." Dewl paced around the deck slowly, looking at the men and women around as if he had something really important to say, gathering their attention like a man of mystery. Then, when they are at the peak of their curiosity, he abruptly stopped. He was now right next to the captain, facing away from the rest of the crew. Peeking over his shoulder, he casually said "Free drinks for everyone. Go to the tavern and tell Tilda or the bartender that the lot of you are friends of mine. Put it on my tab." The crew's reaction were divided, some opted to stay, while others ecstatically went their merry way to the tavern. It's always good to share your riches with people, and after his last expedition, he had plenty still to go around. "As for you, Captain." Dewl put his left hand on her shoulder, smiling as he looked at her. "Mind keeping this old man company? I have plenty of questions for you, such as the wound you have. We maybe enemies... You might have tried to kill me... But it's all in the past now, ain't it? I suggest we move on and find common ground, don't you agree?"

Jennifer waved off a few of her men, and took another pull from her pipe before looking to Dewl, as well as her doctor.
"Alright then, Dewl. Come inside, I'll make you a fresh cup. What's your fancy? Matcha, oolong? I have tea from everywhere, even from Zuid Afrika. Rooibos, I think they call it." Jennifer led the way into her cabin, and set some water to boil over a small burner. The doctor neatened up his tools, and tossed the bloodied rags into a small basket. Papers littered Jennifer's desk, and a book filled with names, numbers, and ports. Jennifer removed the cloak she was wearing, revealing the fresh wounds on her back. "Sorry you have to see this, Dewl. Don't want to be getting an infection, as a doctor, I'm sure you can appreciate that."

The crew scattered like autumn leaves as the captain waved them away. Dewl never thought that this could be resolved so easily, and peacefully at that. He was expecting at least one bullet wound and a few scratches before he could talk to her. Well, a day does leave a person with a lot of time to ponder. Maybe she had finally calmed her nerves.

Dewl followed her into the cabin. It was spacious, a bit rustic and messy, but had a certain charm to it. They say you can learn a lot about people from the way they organize their rooms. This definitely reflected the captain all too well. Jennifer had went through a lot. She can be terrifying and short tempered, but for some unknown reason, you can't help but admire her. "I drink only the finest, my dear. English tea." He was tempted to try the other kinds of tea that she had offered, but he chose to play it safe and went for his favorite. A quite tune hushed as the burner heated the kettle, it was an old model made entirely out of copper. Dewl had the exact same one on his ship. He chose it because it was cheap, efficient and not easily broken. It made him feel like he was in his old cabin. It made him feel relaxed.

While the ship's surgeon neated up his tools, Dewl took a seat on the wooden chair on the other side of the desk. His eyes were calmly analyzing every bit of detail around him. There were papers in front of him that he could not help but notice. Important ones from the look of it. They had numbers, names, and ports in them. A kill list, an itinerary, and mission logs. Dewl was familiar with the names written on them. There were places that he had visited, there were people that he had worked with, all of them from the Order.

His focus was interrupted by Jennifer as she removed her cloak. The wounds on her back were fresh. Bruises on her skin came from a blunt object; a fist or something akin to that of a cane. Cuts on the lower parts of her neck might have been from a whip or a leather belt. What happened to her? Was she captured and interrogated? It can't be the Order. This was too personal and the methods differ from all of the standard interrogation techniques that he had learned. Again, he was caught off guard when Jennifer apologized to him. He was always like this, often too deep in his own thoughts that he forgot about his surroundings. "Ah, yes. Of course." He answered quite shakily, rubbing the bridge of his nose to regain composure. "Might I ask what happened? Yesterday's news were a bit of a blur to me. After all, I did just came back from the dead." There was a serious yet attentive tone to his voice underneath all the sarcasm. His gut was telling him that something was off and his gut was usually right.

Jennifer poured some tea for Dewl, and presented it to him with a small smile before taking a seat so her doctor could get to work. She couldn't help but flinch and ball her fists in pain each time the doctor touched a wound. Even with everything she had done, the alcohol she had drank, the marijuana she had smoked, she was still in pain.
"I was punished by my mentor" Jennifer said with a sigh. "I lost my temper, I attempted an assassination in public, failing said assassination, and you were not mine to kill. Those are the four I remember him rattling on about." Jennifer poured herself a whiskey, and took a sip, closing her eyes as she savoured the flavour. It took her back to her childhood in Clew bay, running around in the lush emerald green fields of her homeland. She remembered the stew her mother would make over the fire, the warmth of her jersey that she watched her mother knit, and the letters and ribbons they would receive from her father. Jennifer couldn't help but smile at the memories that a simple drink managed to return to her. "My apologies, doctor Dewl... Memories are a funny thing, aren't they? They all come back after years of repression, and all thanks to a simple scent or taste." Jennifer chuckled for a second at how childish she likely seemed. "I know you have no reason to sit with me, or to even spare a moment's thought to my request." Jennifer went silent for a moment, deep in thought. "I wish to join your Order, but, I have some terms. Some of the terms may seem unfair to you, but I can offer you a great deal more than you have at this moment."

They say that we must not waste time as it is scarce and pass by so quickly. But Dewl, he begged to differ. To his understanding, time is never truly wasted. How so? The answer is simple. Time reveals all. Today, it revealed something that would benefit the Order for years to come. It revealed Jennifer's doubts of her own Creed. Her change of heart. "I'm intrigued." Dewl replied curtly, his fingers slowly tracing the thin stubble on his chin as he does so. "But before we discuss things any further, I would like to ask you one thing." He stopped his fingers for a moment to fix the positioning of his glasses. The green tinted lens was now covering every inch of his eyes, which significantly decreased the chances for his opponent to read any of his expressions. Micro or macro. Nobody could tell where he was looking, but for some reason it felt like you were at the center of hunter's gaze. Silent, piercing, intense. It was the subtle art of intimidation.

Dewl took his time getting up from his seat. His posture was in bad form due to the confiscation of his cane. He could feel his feet shaking, doing their absolute best to stabilize his foothold. This must be the cause of his injuries, he needed more time to rest, but he neglected to do so. Now, his body is retaliating. It was one foot after another as he sluggishly makes his way to the Captain's desk. Once there, he took hold of its edges and looked at the documents that were scattered all over it. All of her kills, all the missions that she had done, she did it for personal reasons. Her anger had taken her this far. It had made her progress much faster than the other members of her Creed. Dewl used to thought that this vendetta of hers was too deeply rooted in her soul for her to even consider joining the Order. Yet perhaps he was wrong, perhaps she deserves a second chance. But for now, he needed to know her reason. His judgement depends on it. "Tell me, Jennifer." His voice serious, commanding. "Why the change of heart?" He turned his head to face the lady, his sturdy face partly illuminated by the oil lamps nearby.

Jennifer watched Dewl cross the room, seeing how he battled to keep his balance without his cane. She hated seeing him struggle, and she had to fight herself to not help him. Her surgeon set about stitching up the wounds on her back causing Jennifer to flinch in pain occasionally. She took another sip of her whiskey, hoping it would help ease her pain somewhat, but it did not. She thought of Dewl's question for a while, mulling it over in her head. Jennifer had at least half a dozen reasons to leave the Assassins, and at least half of those reasons pushed her towards the Templars.
"Where to begin" Jennifer said with a sigh. She took yet another sip of her whiskey, enjoying the flavour as she thought quietly, choosing her next words with a bit of caution. "The beatings, although they only happen occasionally, are nonetheless bloody painful. No matter how often I prove myself to those buffoons, they still view me as nothing less than a rookie with anger issues. I believe that, with the Templars, I could grow and strive to be better. Those hooded bastards stole me away from my mother in the middle of the night, and forced me into training." Jennifer closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, desperately trying to calm herself. She hadn't realised how much they had hurt her until that moment, until she laid everything out for Dewl. Jennifer downed what was left of her drink, and poured herself another drink. "When I returned home, I found that my mother had died two years after they took me. No child should be taken from their parents. Even if I am not allowed into the Order, I'm leaving the Assassins."

Nassu. What a shit-hole. It truly lived up to it's name, "Disgusting and Law-Free" he had once heard, but Joe knew that the slavers in Haiti were all talk, no proof. It seems he got distracted again, Joe grumbled at his recent inabilities to stay on track, he was in Nassu for a bigger reason than to just insult it.
"Oi! I didn't come here for a damned excuse, I came here for results."
Joe's target silently shouted at the Templar shop-keeper  below, Joe was kneeling on the side of a ledge, hidden in the shade and darkness. He wasn't used to taking out these targets at the current time, but this was more important than his wishes.
"I-I-I'm sorry, sir! The two just ran in took the paper then left! There was nothing I could do!"
The Shop-Keeper backed up, putting his hands in the air, shoulder-height. He was using the serving table as a barrier between him and the angered official.
"Like hell there was nothing you could do!"
The official slammed his fist on the table, leaning in.
"Let's see what Jranguh thinks about this!"

He mumbled, before storming off, heading through a small crows of out-laws to the main docks. Show Time. Joe leaped down from the ledge, landing on his knee and fist, the shop-keeper was immediately startled, but his fear was quickly silenced by a hidden blade through his skull. Joe then stood, blending into a small handful of citizens walking towards the docks, towards the official.


Joe walked with this group, staying in the middle with his head down, behind him, a few pirates were noticing the body, surronding it. The official stopped at a small loading dock, where he leaned back on a stack of barrels, waiting for someone. Joe planned on leaving a suprise this time. Joe walked over to the barrels, staying out of sight, he walked behind the barrels, on the complete opposite side of the official, before he wrenched his Gutripper into his neck from the right side, holding his arm from the left side, restricting him from turning it out. Then, with one swift move, Joe ripped his neck open, which was his signature in New York, every person there new a ripped neck meant Joe was once there. He then quickly walked into an unsuspecting group, walking with them, becoming anonymous once again.

Elizabeth had passed out after a night of heavy drinking at the Old Avery. She had a familiar blue and red frock coat draped over her, a cout that belonged to one of the other top pirates. She clutched her head as she awoke, seriously regretting the previous night. One of her men had been watching over her as she slept.
"Jaysus..."
"Morning, Captain" he said with a laugh, earning a small growl from his captain. Elizabeth forced herself to her feet, and finished what was left of her drink.
"Shane. Where's Jen?" Shane shrugged, and poured himself a drink.
"Her ship? I dunno. Hornigold's been waiting for you." Elizabeth groaned, and pulled the coat on before heading to the docks. Perhaps she would head to her ship to clean up before going to see Hornigold? She noticed a suspicious young man taking cover in a crowd, and she was intrigued. A new player in the game? Templar or Assassin?

(My bad for the unanswered response, I wasn't sure if someone wanted to join XD)

Joe felt eyes on him, he walked a little faster, grabbing a nearby civilian by the shoulder in a friendly way, and forcing him to walk faster, therefore having the small group walk faster with him, he needed to get to the crow's nest before dark, that was his plan.

(It's alright. DannyBoy tends to disappear for a while occasionally)

Elizabeth began the trip back to her ship, carefully weaving through the crowds, still wearing Hornigold's coat. Her plan was to simply get to her ship, clean up, have a bit of ginger before heading off to find Hornigold. Still, the young man had caught her attention once again. His technique... there were few around these parts that even attempted to hide themselves from prying eyes. She started to think this young man was an Assassin.