Tortuga, the Isle of the Turtle. The port of Cayonne was ever the den of inequity, scum and villainy and it was home. Lucy Dunaway strode the hard packed earth that was one of the roads. It was a fortress of an island, the north face a long unbroken line of scalable cliffs. Only the south held a harbour and even then, larger ships, those of seventy guns or more could not fjord the sand bar of the relatively shallow harbour. It was a near perfect place for pirates. Chevalier de Fontenay ruled this port with an iron fist from his fort that loomed over the harbour. He had taken over lordship of the fort on behalf of France after the previous governor was killed by his own henchmen over a mistress. He was supposed to bring order to the region and prevent piracy. He had instead gone independent like others before him, becoming a buccaneer king.

This was where she lived. Lucy, or Loosey Lucy as she was often called was a misbegotten bastard child and whore, a beautiful buxom thing but a whore none the less. She moved through the marketplaces of Tortuga, her crimson hair glimmering warmly like burnished copper. She adjusted her parasol and then the black pirate's cap she wore, a left behind souvenir of a drunkard pirate who had been so sloshed that she had taken him for all he was worth. She had very fair skin and she wasn't wanted to avoid becoming tanned. Fair skinned women were in more demand as whores than those of darker skin like those who worked the plantations. She then adjusted the corset, ensuring her ample assets were well displayed. The dried earth was warm beneath her bare feet, for boots or shoes were far too expensive for one of her meager earnings. She would not yet be able to afford a new pair for a fortnight at least.

She had just awakened and was on her way towards the local tavern, for those who could afford to drink while the sun was high overhead often had coin for a quick tumble. It was a meandering walk for she had no particular need for haste. Thus, she noted, with a chuckle, a young pirate attempting to sell tobacco. The fool. The main product of export here on Tortuga was tobacco. The plantations north of the town proper cultivated little else. People came to Tortuga in order to buy tobacco at a cheap rate- not to sell it. She rather suspected that he would have find he had little by way of coin to spend on whores.