There be yer map, ye scurvy sea dogs! I'm gonna make a big, big, big version tomorrow, but it's 4:00 in the morning, and I'm going to bed.
Ooh, and comment or I'll have TSA agents come and give you a patdown.
Here's a "brief" intro. Things may change. Pics forthcoming (hopefully.) Red vs. Blue fans I think will love this. Basically, the Redcoats defeated the Armada, and the Bluecoats defeated the Islanders, and now the bloated monarchies are in a cold war. I explain the Greencoats in this section below, and the history of the Orange Republic will be there before long.
What Happened at Edwinburgh
Following the drums came the trumpets. Out of the mouth of Edwinburgh Castle marched a battalion of Redcoats, the Emperor's Own, singing "Bonnie Lassie." The men, resplendently radiant in their scarlet uniforms, black shakos, and shining brass buttons, slogged in perfect unison, the striped Imperial Flag going on before them.
"I left my Bonnie Lassie
Far, far, behind me,
She cried, she weeped, she sobbed and sighed,
B' I told her 'twas my duty to fight Broadside!
"Her hair is pretty acrylonitrile butadiene styrene,
Her skin is yellow as the sun's golden sheen,
Her eyes are black as ink,
And oft of them I think,
As I leave my Bonnie Lassie
Far, far behind me!"
Admiral Woodhouse, chief military officer and prime minister of the Redcoat Empire, sat on his horse, arm raised in a salute. His left hook-hand dangled limply on his thigh, an appendage lost in service to the Emperor. Woodhouse was 75, and by far the best soldier to ever come out of the the Redcoat Empire. His red hair was now gray and his uniform baggy on his thin frame. He had killed scores of men, whether pirates, Armada, Islanders, or those dratted Bluecoats. He had led the Redcoats in the First, Second, and Third Battles of the Royal Sea. He had led the decisive victories over the Armada and the conquering of their lands, culminating in the sinking of the Armada King's galleon, El Senor, as it fled into the Luchador Sea. He had sent pirate captains Redbeard, Kragg, and Brickbeard to watery graves or hangman's nooses in that order. He had taken down thousands of small-time pirates. He set up firm alliances with the Greencoats to the south, who had broken away from the Armada, making it easier for Woodhouse to destroy the Armada. But most importantly, he had held off that damnable Gouverneur Broadside, sometimes in hand-to-hand combat, and sometimes alone, having fought to the last man. He had brought freedom and prosperity to the Empire. He was a hero.
General MacBrick sat on a horse next to Woodhouse. As the soldiers marched into town for the parade, which was occurring in celebration of Emperor Edward's 50th birthday, MacBrick spoke, "Loo' a' that, m'Lord, best soldiers in the Empire! If only we had a war to use 'em in! Those confounded Bluecoats wan' peace jus' so they c'n expand into th' Sea o' Doom. They'll get the edge on us if we don' beat 'em down ev'ry wonce in a while."
"We've shed our blood and plastic for decades, General; this five years of peace is welcome. The Bluecoats are minding their own business for once. Broadside died fighting, but his son seems much more bearable."
"Dupont Broadside is a nasty, sneaky Bluecoat bugger, I say. Nastier and sneakier than ol' Louis, too. All Bluecoats are buggers, m'lord. Eventually, we'll pound tha' runt into rubble, we will. And I still think Dupont murdered Gouverneur de Martinet to get power. De Martinet was a soldier, but Dupont is a spoilt brat, he is."
Woodhouse shrugged. Five years ago, when Broadside died, his long-time lieutenant, Marquis de Martinet, was chosen to succeed him. He had been assassinated at the royal palace and the murderer was never found, though many said it was one of Cap'n Ironhook's old men. Captain Timotheus Esteban Ironhook had been one of Broadside's kills, and his death seemingly marked the decline of piracy. After Ironhook, Brickbeard was the last pirate to achieve a name for himself. Needless to say, one of Ironhook's men would have motive. Another version had Dupont in on it, killing for power. No one knew who had done it for sure, but the Bluecoat government under Dupont sure pushed the Ironhook tale.
"Well, m'lord, I guess we should ride into town now, eh?" asked MacBrick, donning his busby and a pointing at the advancing parade. "Won't be a parade withou' th' 'ero!"
The two men were joined by about two dozen other mounted officers and nobles, bedecked in Imperial splendour, and advanced at a brisk trot into town. King Edward would soon be out in his royal coach to appear before the citizens. The crowd went wild as the Hero of the Redcoats, Woodhouse, waved. Suddenly, Woodhouse looked up and saw a heavy tile falling off a roof...
Rebecca Ironhook tightened her corset, donned her hat, and buckled her belt as she left her hotel room. The wayfaring wench was the illegitimate daughter of the scurvy Captain Ironhook and niece of Charles Esteban Redbeard, Ironhook's brother, but had only a few coins to her name. She could barely afford to spend the night. Her father had told her he had buried a stash for her, but she never found it. She figured he had probably drank, ate, and wenched it away in the many taverns he frequented. In fact, she wondered if some unknown sister of hers had been told the same. She invented false names, and never really pirated anything, preferring not to have the law after her. She dropped a few coins in the hotel owner's lap. The fat, greasy, unattractive man grunted and went back to rocking on his rocking chair, which made creaking noises as if it would shatter under his weight at any time.
"Much appreciated. Come back to the Rusty Anchor anytime, ma'am."
"Aye, see you," she muttered as she flung the door open and smelled the tropical air. She went out and sat on the side of the cobble road. Townsfolk went about their daily business, buying fish, hocking hams, arranging business agreements, along with typical shadier, likely illegal, activities. She looked around a few more minutes before leaving. Becky stumbled along aimlessly before seeing a small secluded pond surrounded by trees where the town women did their laundry. She saw no one was there and tried to wash her own raggy clothes. As she sat minding her own business, a strange noise sounded behind her.
"Well, well, well," said the fellow. "Wha' have we here?" The man, obviously an old Armada trooper judging by his faded uniform, picked up her clothes and sword and tucked them under his arm, using his free hand to hold a pistol. "Now. Get dressed. Pretty li'le slave girl for the auction. An'... don't be slow, or you know what'll 'appen, lass." He cocked back the gun's hammer.
As he said that, he was unaware Becky kept a knife on her leg at all times. She quickly pulled it out and threw it at the shocked slaver. It inserted cleanly into his throat. Unfortunately, death spasms set the pistol off, firing into the air.
"Uh-oh." Rebecca hurried and put her clothes back on before fleeing the scene, buttoning her shirt as she went. This was bad. She could go to jail or worse. Killing anyone in an Imperial port was usually awarded with hanging. Self-defense was allowed, but there had to be witnesses. She already heard people screaming for the soldiers. She saw to her misfortune that a guard shack was nearby, and mounted dragoons were already galloping toward her. She thought on her feet and leaped onto a passing carriage, chucking the cursing driver off and grabbing the reigns.
A shocked, wigged nobleman peeked his head out of the carriage window. "Wha-?! Who are you?! Help! I'm being kidnapped!"
The other passenger was, again, much to her misfortune, a soldier. The Redcoat drew his sword and climbed on top of the vehicle. Becky grabbed the man by the shirt collar and threw him off, clutching his sword as it fell. She poked a hole in her shirt, forming a makeshift scabbard. She whipped the horses brutally, urging them onward. The dragoons opened fire. They missed, but it was only the first volley, and they could still move in with swords. Becky looked back and saw them hastily reloading their carbines. The Imperial Dragoons sported prototype six-shot rifles. They were inaccurate, but they gave them more chances for shooting her in the head. She turned back to the road and saw in horror that she was approaching a cliff. She was going too fast to avoid plunging off the edge. She waited for the drop.
The dragoons chased the carriage all the way to the cliff before rearing back on their horses, watching the carriage crash and tumble down into the sea.
"End o' 'er," said one Redcoat.
"And end of the nobleman, you dolt!" shrieked the dragoon captain.
Becky, unbeknownst to them, clung to a root poking out of the cliff-side. She slowly, carefully, climbed up to the top, finally getting back onto solid land.
"There she is, men! How the devil did she do tha'?! After 'er!"
Rebecca moaned and rushed to a ladder on the side of a tavern. She climbed up, narrowly missing carbine bullets whizzing past her. She sprinted and jumped onto an awning on the side of the building, using it as a trampoline to catapult her onto the next roof. As she continued this, the awestruck dragoons fired away, missing wildly, too focused on her acrobatics.
"Darn it! After 'er! We ain't gonna let some confounded busty wench get 'way from King Edward's dragoons!" ordered the captain.
The men rode up alongside the buildings and jumped onto ladders, soon catching up to Ironhook. She drew her sword and turned to face them, since they had dropped their guns in the jump. She immediately stuck one of them in the chest, sending his corpse flying off the rooftop. The others closed in, only to loose two more. The remaining three formed a wall of blade and advanced upon her, trying to overwhelm her fencing abilities. She turned and fled, much to their chagrin.
Suddenly, she slipped, and sent a loose roof tile falling to the ground...
Admiral Woodhouse died instantly from the impact of the tile. The crowd of soldiers and citizens screamed as the elderly man fell dead from his horse.
"The Admiral's been killed!" screamed MacBrick, drawing his pistol and firing at the figures on the roof above. He hit his mark, and a... Redcoat... fell screaming from the roof, a bullet in his leg. "Confound it! After th' assassin!"
Dozens of troops swarmed the rooftops in seconds while more put the port town on lockdown. The soldiers fired blindly at every shadow, and others, in their eagerness, fell off the roofs.
Becky Ironhook saw dozens of soldiers give chase after her. She would receive no mercy now. She would escape or go down fighting. Knowing this, she decided to victimize a guard on the street below, taking him out with a rock to the head. She grabbed his musket and shot another. She soon found herself in the vicinity of the cliff again. The Imperials had her back to the sea. She had no choice. She took a deep breath. Closed her eyes. And jumped.
She opened her eyes and tried to avoid projecting rocks during her fall. Then, she hammered into the water like a bag of cannonballs.
As the wind came back into her and she realized she was still alive, she poked her head back out of the water. A ship was nearby, non-Imperial. She tried to scream for help but couldn't muster the energy to.
Someone appeared to notice her anyway, and the ship steered in her direction. It was a Greencoat trading vessel, red-white-and-blue tricolour with yellow sun flapping in the wind, its sails bearing the logo of the G.T.C., the Greencoat Trading Company. Sailors climbed down onto the side of the ship and dragged her on board. She spluttered and coughed as she hit the deck. She, with much effort, raised her head to see Greencoat sailors surrounding her, and the door of the cabin opening. A scarred man in a captain's uniform walked out, hands behind his back. He was accompanied by his first and second mates, all gazing at her.
The grizzled captain spoke. "Welcome aboard the R.S. El Artesano. What happened, señora?"
"Uh, I... Uh, I was looking at the sea when I slipped and fell," she lied.
"I see. You should be more careful. That's not known as Dead Man's Cliff for nothing, señora. First Mate Garcia, show her to a cabin and give her what she needs. We have a guest on board. I expect ship-shape behavior."
The bearded Garcia saluted and clicked his heels. "Sí, capitán! ¡Ahora mismo!" The rigidly-trained first mate took Becky's hand and practically dragged her to a cabin.
Ironhook was given one of the dresses in the hold where the trade items were held. She put it on and went to inquire about where the vessel was going. The captain replied it was going to the Orange Republic, at "the other end of the world." As far as Becky was concerned, that was just fine.
What Happened in the Straits of Luchador
Captain Maxwell Fields walked up the gangplank of his sloop, the Redbeard, with his pirate scalawags. He had just dug up one of Cap'n Redbeard's treasure stashes. Over 500 doubloons had been recovered, along with a coffin containing a gold bedecked pirate skeleton. It wasn't Redbeard, as his body had been hung in chains in Kingston. It might have been his first mate, Rummy. They ripped the gold out and left the skeleton to rot in the cave. This wasn't the first time Forbidden Island had made Fields and his men wealthier; they had found several stores of gunpowder and silver before, along with a ruby. He went to his cabin as his men put the loot in the hold. It was trading season, and as he looked at the map on his cabin desk, he knew the G.T.C. would have ships in the Straits of Luchador. That would be his best chance to capture a prize; he needed another ship before plundering more loot. Plus, if he was going to be a successful pirate in seas loaded with military vessels with death warrants, he needed more firepower than a sloop. He used a pencil and marked a good place to attack before taking the chart up to the helm on the poop deck to follow the route.
Rebecca hadn't told the G.T.C. men her name was Ironhook. Ironhook had plagued the Greencoats for years before the Bluecoats moved in for the kill. She alone stood on the aft observation deck, scouting the horizon and pondering her troubles.
A black flag.
No sooner had she seen the pirate vessel in the distance before she heard G.T.C. sailors scrambling on deck. A loud boom was followed by a cannonball whipping past the Greencoat flag hanging from the spanker yard.
"Senor Garcia, batten down the hatches and prepare for battle!" calmly instructed the captain from the helm. Sailors rammed the guns out the gunports and passed out weapons to use against the pirates. Loud whistles sounded all over the ship as the pirate sloop neared. Another cannonball pummeled into the top of the mainmast, striking down the G.T.C. flag. Another struck over the deck, beheading a sailor before falling into the sea. Then, it was the El Artesano's turn. A solid volley of shot smashed into the pirate vessel, killing several men and disabling a gun. The pirates returned fire and struck down mizzenmast of the El Artesano. The two severely damaged ships closed in on each other.
"Arrgh, deploy the lines, mates!" growled a pirate officer. Before long, the two ships were tangled together and a boarding ramp was lowered. The blood-thirsty buccaneers charged across with swords and axes to engage the G.T.C. men. Blood flowed as the brutal fighting got personal. The Greencoat captain charged into the fray and downed a pirate with his pistol before drawing his rapier. Becky watched out the window of the cabin. She took a dragoon rifle that was mounted on the wall down and loaded it and ducked behind a desk, waiting to see who would win.
At last, the Greencoats were all killed. Garcia was the last to go down. The remaining pirates bashed down the cabin door. Becky stood up and pointed the rifle at them, warning, "Stop! I'm Cap'n Ironhook's daughter, and if you know what's good for you, you'll leave me alone!"
The pirates looked on in horror as she had them trapped. With that rifle, she could mow down six pirates before someone got her. However, while she focused on the men in the doorway, a buccaneer came in behind from the cabin door leading to the the aft observation deck. Becky felt a sword on her neck.
"Well, if you are Ironhook's daughter, welcome to the crew. I assume these G.T.C. dastards didn't know. You're safer with us."
"Ships ahoy, Cap'n Fields!" alerted a sailor on the bloody, corpse-ridden deck. "Greencoat frigates out on patrol! We best get out o' here, cap'n!"
Fields smacked Becky in the head with his cutlass hilt, knocking her out. "Hurry, mates! Back to the Redbeard! This ship needs repaired too much. Handsomely now!"
The brigands dashed back to their sloop and set sail, with Ironhook's daughter tied up in the cabin. Things were about to get interesting.
(I have the El Artesano built, Greencoats and all, and I'm working on the Redbeard. )
Edited by Napoleon53, 07 January 2012 - 11:55 AM.