Co-written with [@Luftwaffles], [@Maki the Finn], [@surebeens], and [@Mardox].
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[b]The Old Albatross Tavern, Nassau[/b]

The air was thick with the stench of tobacco smoke and stale beer, the flickering orange glow of candles and lanterns barely penetrating the evening gloom. Tankards clinked, dice clattered across sturdy wooden tables, and the shouts of patrons both joyful and belligerent formed a cacophonous racket. But alas, that was the music of Nassau; a home to thieves, drunkards, whores, and pirates of the very foulest kind. A republic of pirates, some saw fit to call it, and it was hardly an ill-fitting accolade - the law had long since fled this place, turned it over to those who made their livings at the tip of a cutlass or the muzzle of a cannon. But most of the scarred, vicious men in the tavern saw it not as a new Sodom or Gomorrah, but simply as home.

John Lysander Blackett, the infamous 'Black Jack' who captained the pirate frigate [i]Bucephalus[/i], was one such man. Waving over a bar wench burnened with a heavy tray of overflowing tankards, the captain laid a pair of cards face down on the table as he passed a fresh round of drinks to the other fellows gathered around him. Scanning the table with a single blue eye, the pirate ran a hand through his short beard, before pushing forward a gold coin towards the centre where a small pile of similar currency waited. "Raise. One doubloon." he grunted, gesturing to the burly, greying man sat to his left. "Your go, Gresham."

The old quartermaster sighed, taking a large swig of ale, a few drips clinging to his moustache. "Fold." He threw his own cards down with an air of exasperation.

The ship's surgeon, Cato Valentinovna, reviewed her cards.  She raised her eyebrow, watching the rest of the officers as she decided her next move.  "Such an uncivilized game.  Leaving it all up to chance, just silly."  She sighed.  "I will match your bet."  She threw another coin into the centre of the table, keeping her cards close to her chest.

"The game isn't uncivilized; it's a show of wits." Adolfus tossed in two coins. "I raise two doubloons." He took a swig from his flask as he looked around the table, stone-faced, and focused on the Quartermaster. "I thought you were good at numbers?" He said in a half-joking tone.

"Aye," the grizzled officer responded with a shake of the head. "But the numbers aren't being good to me tonight." As he drained the last dregs of his ale, the two crewmen to the left of Adolfus threw down their own cards, sighing frustratedly. 

Captain Blackett chuckled, giving a good-natured nod to both his surgeon and engineer. "And then, there were three." He slid a second coin over, followed by a third, and then a fourth. "I'll see your bet and raise you two more."

"I sure hoped you saw my bet, one-eye." He said, as he raised his eyebrows and let out a sigh. "I fold, good Kapitän." Adolfus then got up from the table, wiping his mouth,"I'm going to go find something that resembles an outhouse in this god-forsaken place. Good luck, Jack." 

"Much obliged, Adolfus," replied Blackett. "Although I can't imagine I'll need much luck now." He shot a wry grin at Cato. "Care to bet? Or were you planning on following these fine gentlemens' examples?"

Adolfus chortled as he exited the building.  The ship's surgeon reviewed her cards, maintaining her frown.  After a moment of hesitation, she pushed her entire pile of doubloons forward.  She looked up, looking around the table with a small smile on her face.

A dark man sitting in a booth in the corner watched Adolfus leave, then returned his gaze to the poker match. He studied the attire of each player, their mannerisms and the way they interacted with each other. He raised an eyebrow when the woman piled all of her gold into the center of the table, curious to see how this would play out.

His name was Raphe Alan Leverett, a mercenary currently working as the Master Gunner of The Zodiac's Warning, under Captain Theodore de la Cruz. He had been watching the patrons of this tavern for hours, as was his custom before his captain entered any establishment their first day on land. Why this particular group had caught Raphe's eye, he did not know.

The Captain chuckled as he saw Cato's money slide into the middle of the table. "Well, you've got more bollocks than the rest of these fellows." He pushed his own coins forward. "Alright, I'll bite. All in. Let's see your hand."

Cato put her five cards down, pointing at each of them individually.  "I have three sixes.  That is quite a high hand, is it not?" 

"A higher hand than you think," Blackett replied. "You have two threes - that's a full house." He placed his own cards down; all clubs, but without sequence. "Which beats my flush. Well played."

"Aha!"  The surgeon smiled broadly and dragged the pile of coins towards her side of the table.  "I'll be taking all of that, thank you very much."  She immediately began to order her new prize, stacking the doubloons in columns of three.  

"Verdamnt! There's no pisspots around here." Adolfus said as he walked over to the bar. "do you have any lager? also, buy one for this fellow besides me and.." He scanned the room for a sober soul, "That brooding fellow over there!" He points at Raphe, and nods to the barkeep as he pours Raphe's drink.  He then took his tankard, and sat back down at the poker table. "Wheres the game at- hahaha! You let the Russian frau beat you, Jack?" The fates aren't on your side tonight."

A minute later, Raphe looked at an approaching barmaid, confused. "I didn't order anything." he roughly asserted. The maid placed a tankard of beer in front of him. "Courtesy of Old Smokey there," pointing to Adolfus. Raphe nodded at the man, surprised.

He nodded back, sauntered over to Ralphe's booth, and took a seat; as he initiatied a toast with the man. "Not everyday we see a new face around here. They usually die on their first voyage. My name is Adolfus, or Ady. What's yours, stranger?

Raphe eyed the man suspiciously before slowly raising his tankard. "Name's Raphe."

"Good to meet you, Raphe. So tell me, are you here for business or pleasure?"  He clinked his mug into Raphe's and took a swig of his drink.

Raphe lowered his tankard without taking a sip. "Business. What have I done to earn your attention?"

"Seeing a sober man in a tavern of miscreants is a suspicious sight indeed. Plus I saw you eying mein compatriots."

"More suspicious is a man who's too kind to strangers," Raphe replied, "But if you must know I'm waiting for my captain."

"Well I can understand that, with all the cutthroats and backstabbers, a friendly face may seem a bit strange. But I have good reason; 'cause you see, I'm something of a craftsman. And I am in the market for things you may deem unvaluable. Raw ores, ingots, pitch, cotton, hardwood, et cetera. So my friendliness is simply me, extending my hand in a possible mutually benefical deal; and if your captain is showing up, I'll buy him a drink as well, and we can all talk business." He explained, as he drained the last of his warm beer.

It was then that a slightly overweight Spaniard with an ornate captain's uniform and an almost comically large mustache walked through the tavern doors. Rather than take a seat, he chose to address the mostly-drunkern crowd of ruffians. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen! I'd like to buy each of you a drink and discuss grand opportunities for fame and fortune!"

Adolfus pointed at the entering spaniard and tapped Raphe,"That your captain?" He nodded, and went back to swirling his drink. Adolfus whistled and waved Cruz over to their booth.

Theodore de la Cruz, captain extraordinaire and self-anointed Prince of Adventure, swaggered over to the pair and took a seat. "My good sir," he asked Adolfus, "are you interested in the wonders upon the sea that I have to offer?"

"Not at all, good captain; I have my own crew. But, I did want to talk to you about future trade opportunities that could be profitable for both of our ships." He repeated the spiel that he told Raphe just moments ago and ordered the captain another beer, the same as Raphe's.

Captain Blackett took the first sip of his latest pint of ale, raising a hand to carefully wipe away the frothy white head from his moustache. He subtly gestured in the direction of Adolfus. "Our engineer seems to be getting awful friendly with that Spaniard, doesn't he..."

Cato looked over at the German with less subtlety.  "It certainly looks that way.  Perhaps he's..."  She raised her eyebrows.  "Sexually inverse.  Far from any sort of civilisation here, I suppose one could be bolder."

The Englishman chuckled, glancing over again at the pair. "Now there's a disturbing thought that will require something far stronger than ale to erase." His face grew more serious. "But it is far preferable to the alternative, which is that our friend is either knowingly or inadvertently entangling this crew in Spanish business."

"You are the captain, aren't you?  I thought it was you who decided what this crew is entangled in."  Cato shrugged.  "He's probably just talking.  We're in a tavern, after all."

Blackett sighed. "You are probably right. I do apologise; I have a nasty habit of assuming the worst." He dragged his eyes firmly away from the far table. "Anyway, it is probably time I took my leave. I have courses to plot and books to pore over, as usual. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and be ready to sail by noon tomorrow." He gave Cato a polite nod, and then repeated the gesture to each of the other officers who lined the table. Picking up his black tricorn and placing it atop his head, the Captain turned and headed for the exit, weaving his way through the crowds of drunken and rowdy sailors until he had disappeared from sight.

Adolfus watched as Blackett left. "Alas, I must take my leave. Though if you want to follow up on my offer, just give a letter to the bartender. I'm a regular here, so it'll make it to me." He sidled out of the booth, gave the men a bow, and headed for the ship.