Abigail made her way toward the door wondering where she was and if she could hide. She didn't know the town that well but the fact that pirates were here made her know that there wouldn't be local redcoats to aid her. She was on her own. Hopefully, if she hid out long enough they would leave though she knew that a fool's wishes. No doubt, once they knew she was gone they'd tear the place apart to find her. She had no allies, no hope of being saved and had a crazy captain after her - one who was a prime example of pure evil.

Her hand on the latch, Abigail jumped as a gunshot sounded. Heart pounding, she quickly backed away. Whatever this place was, she didn't really want to stick around. Turning, she ran right into a man. She hadn't heard him come in. What she didn't know was that he was one of the workers in the tavern. He caught hold of her wrist.

"What you be doin' back here?" He demanded. 

Abigail bit her lip. She couldn't break free. His hand practically encircled her wrist and though he wasn't bruising it, she couldn't pull it out. "I...I got lost." 

The man didn't believe her. "Uh hmm. Will see what the Mistress says. Ms. Guthrie will be a curious as to what you doin' in her kitchen and how you got 'lost'."

He led her toward the door.


The tavern was in a ruckus but the appearance of the two quickly quieted everyone down. The proprietor of the tavern was not one to shy away. A strong will and the fire to take on almost anyone or anything, Ms. Eleanor Guthrie was not one to trifle with.  Of course, it didn't help that one of the most feared captains of the seven seas was there beside her. Charles Vane. Captain of the [i]The Ranger[/i]. Soft spoken and in some ways seems a bit soft but ruthless in his own right. He feared no man or woman for that matter. He did what he pleased never backed down from a fight. His long hair was a bit disorderly, a necklace around his neck, and probably a few days old stubble that gave a partial beard and mustache. 

His look of transparent disbelief was not so much for the fact of a fight - those happened, though not too frequent. Eleanor didn't really put up with it in her tavern. No, his belief was tied more to how far it had gone. The dead man on the ground, his life essence leaving him was enough to bring disbelief. Who would be foolish enough to kill someone else here in the tavern? Eleanor would have their head. Then he saw the perpetrator. Edward Low. That made more sense. It was a bit surprising to see the infamous captain in these parts. They were not on friendly terms though the time or two before that they'd met it hadn't gotten out of proportion. 

Vane moved slightly to the side, his tankard shifting to his left hand. If there was trouble he would be ready but he knew Eleanor would handle this. Most of the people in here were loyal in some way or other to her - at least in the fact that they might not want to get thrown out.