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Kevin Crowley & How I discovered the essence of a pirate: Memoirs of Jack Seagull 1670-1689
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Memoirs of Jack Seagull 1670-1689

8th of March 1670 Anno Domini – Location: Mêlée Island, Scumm Bar and Inn, Time: Evening
“Never once have I seen a man so brave, so unpredictable and corrupted. Impossible to think that his best friend was a pirate.”

It was a day that would make a dying cripple be glad to be alive. In deed, the value of life has become small since I first set out to the Caribbean, armed with nothing more than my father’s old sword and the name of Jack Seagull. I wasn’t always as respected as I am today, but today was an extraordinary day. I had been pulled out of my peaceful retirement on Booty Island by an urgent request from an old friend (Timothy Schafer). Sadly the poor sop had gotten himself killed before I got here. May he rest peacefully with the angels.

In any case this would be a day to remember. I was enjoying myself at the Scumm Bar. Though the sudden departure of a dear friend was weighing hard on me it was the governor’s birthday and I decided to keep my worries to myself. Over the drunken prancing and singing a voice carried out that could strike thunder back to the heavens from whence it came. The voice belonged to a man named Kevin Crowley. He was indeed a man whose very outlook would demand respect. He stood taller than any man I have known. His eyes were like those of a falcon, ever watchful of their surroundings. His face gave off an image of a man who had sailed from Trinidad to Tortuga and seen and heard everything. Though he had been dressed expensively he could not hide his nature from an old sea-dog such as myself, he was a pirate.

I immediately felt an urge to learn everything there was to know of this man. His history, his lost loves, his greatest battles, his greatest achievements, where he came from, the very origin of his name.

I was a little more than surprised at his humility. The story of Kevin Crowley, a man of 20 years, was not filled by as much conquest and glory as I had imagined. Kevin Crowley was a man born into poverty. Forced to feed on rats and the occasional chicken he would be able to steal. He was a weak young man with no future, no nationality, no pride. Just a name and a voice. At the age of 15 Kevin entered manhood. He gladly shared the story of his first Grog and his first “experience” with a woman, both of which left him more embarrassed than proud. In fact he thanked me for not laughing at his “bouncy” experiences. I believe that all men are born equal, so it was not hard for me to accept his gratitude. The greatest change in the life of young Kevin Crowley came at the age of 17 when Mêlée town became pillaged by pirates. Kevin was caught in the cross-fire, and had not the governor’s guard found him he would have surely died. Kevin was taken in to care by the court of the governor Elaine Marley-Threepwood. As the story goes Elaine had always felt sorry for the young boy and had begun to educate him. It was during this period that he became introduced to Sheriff Fester Feisstopp.

Feisstop never seemed like the man you would trust your sister to. Never once have I seen a man so brave, so unpredictable and corrupted. Impossible to think that his best friend was a pirate. From what I’ve learned the relationship between Feisstopp and Crowley was more professional if anything. Feisstopp intended to keep the shores of Mêlée safe at any cost. That is why he had recruited young Kevin Crowley to captain a pirate-ship in secrecy. Feisstopp was paying Kevin to attack other pirates and keep them off Mêlée. I never figured out why Crowley would agree to this. I had a feeling the poor boy didn’t know what he was getting himself in to, and quite frankly Feisstopp didn’t care. The fact that Mêlée had become the safest outpost for the Union Jack was only increasing Feisstopp’s political influence. And the fact that the elderly Horatio T. Marley had been re-elected only a year earlier made sure that Feisstopp’s activities were left unnoticed.

For a pirate Crowley seemed incredible honest. I had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last I would hear of young sir Kevin Crowley.

10th of March 1670 Anno Domini – Location: Mêlée Island, Scumm Bar and Inn, Time: Late Night
The last few days have been harsh. I got in to a sword-fight yesterday when some crazed drunk almost cut me to pieces. Fortunately young Mr. Crowley appeared in time to stop the yahoo. In my experience pirates have never tried to interfere in other people’s fights. It is becoming obvious that Crowley is no mere pirate. I remember that moment vividly than anything else that happened that entire day. The cutlass flew from his belt like an owl swooping down for the kill and cut the man’s hand clean off. There wasn’t the slightest sign of hesitation on his face. I watched as the hopeless drunk started running, screaming hysterically and finally falling off a ledge and hitting the ground with a mighty thud. I am still not certain if it was the cut or the drop that killed him. All I know is that I now owe my life to this man.

The rest of the night went less than perfectly as I suffered the aftermath of my actions at the bar.

As of this morning disturbing facts about the death of brave Timothy have reached my ears. Apparently Timothy did not see eye to eye with Feisstopp and Fester had locked him up on several occasions in the past without charge. This didn’t surprise me as I had learned that the sheriff was a man who would do anything to get his way. I still can’t help but to think that Feisstopp was somehow involved in the death of Timothy. I dare not speak my thoughts out loud until I am safely on Booty or Phatt Island where Fester’s sneaks can’t reach me. I am going to write a letter to my old friend Rum Rogers Junior and get him to find out more about Feisstopp. I might be paranoid, and God help me if my age is starting to get to me. Either way, until I’m off Mêlée I’m going to be sleeping with one eye open.

24th of March 1670 Anno Domini – Location: Phatt Island, Wharf Rat Inn, Time: Near Midnight
After a nerve-wrecking two weeks of mail-exchange between me and Mr. Rogers I finally managed to convince him to leave Phatt. Before he agrees to act upon his promise he wants to see me. I arrived at Phatt very late after three days of sailing. I was able to get a ship that I thought Feisstopp wasn’t aware was leaving. For a sheriff he seems to have strange interest on ships. More than once during those two weeks I have caught him enquiring sailors of their ships, origin and cargo. Only once did I see him visit Crowley’s ship. I haven’t seen him as I have been too afraid to leave the Inn. And even though I arrived here safely I am beginning to think that I am being more than paranoid for going through all this trouble of avoiding Fester. Maybe I am going crazy.

Something tells me that I won’t be waking early tomorrow so I might as well go back to bed.

25th of March 1670 Anno Domini – Location: Phatt Island, Wharf Rat Inn, Time: Evening
I visited Rum Rogers today and he has agreed to go to Mêlée and find more information on Feisstopp. I am strongly beginning to believe that Feisstopp may had in deed played a part in Timothy’s death and I fear that if Rum suffers from his occasional moment of recklessness the next time we meet he may be laying six feet down with a headstone over him. But it is all too early to tell. Just like on a hunt, the tiger doesn’t show his claws until its victim has turned its back.

The rest of the day went well aside the slight argument I had with Phatt’s law-enforcement. I spent some time in the Phatt library trying to find something that would have helped me understand Feisstopp’s motives but nothing came across as particularly interesting. The fact that this island doesn’t have a bar is playing hell on my nerves.
I hope to return to Booty Island as soon as possible.

30th of March 1670 Anno Domini – Location: Booty Island, Home, Time: Midday
I arrived at Booty Island late last night. I have only been awake for a couple of hours.

On the 26th of March my friend Rum Rogers JR. left for Mêlée to investigate the activities of the infamous sheriff Fester Feisstopp. If he arrived there safely I should be expecting a letter from him the day after tomorrow. He didn’t seem the slightest bit worried and was quite convinced that Timothy may had been up to his old tricks and probably crossed the line between fun and right-down crazy. Despite Timothy’s reputation I refuse to believe that he received those sword-cuts while in a drunken stupor.
I left immediately the next day on board the “Scurvy Monkey” captained by an elderly lad by the name of Silver. If you were to ask me a man of that age and condition had no business captaining such a fine vessel. After the less pleasant trip from Mêlée to Phatt during which I had to sleep with the crew, this vessel was large and empty enough to provide me with a room. Going from land to sea and vice versa has played hell on my legs and I don’t plan to get on a boat for a while.

This morning I had to kill a chicken for myself as I had forgotten to tell my one-eyed man-servant Ricardo that I was coming home earlier than expected. I’m sure he’ll be quite mad that I neglected the gentleman’s code by not telling him of my return.

Wait, he’s here. I must tell him of what has happened. I pray God will be with my friend Rum.

4th of April 1670 Anno Domini – Location: Booty & Mêlée Islands, Time: Evening – Rum Roger’s letters
It has now been eight days since Rum left for Mêlée and since of the first day of the current month I have been receiving letters from him almost daily. I have enclosed them herein for those who I shall select to read it out loud…

Marked: 29th of March (received 1st of April)
Dear Mr. Seagull…
I am happy to inform you that I have arrived at Mêlée safely and all that I was carrying arrived in one piece as well. I have taken your old room as you requested and I have also seen this Feisstopp fellow we talked about. He does seem like a treacherous sort but I doubt that he has more than one trick up his sleeve. He seems too spoiled to be dangerous though he acts like a tough guy. I shall tell you more as I learn.
-Sincerely, Rum Rogers II (Junior)

Marked: 30th of March (received 3rd of April along with the third letter)
Mr. Seagull…
I have managed to get myself in to the “in-group”, as you would call it, of the Mêlée council. Apparently there was some bad blood between Feisstopp and Timothy. As you said, Mr. Schafer was arrested on several occasions under made-up charges. The governor (Horatio Marley) is not interested in his activities and so Feisstopp’s renegade actions and lust for revenge for being humiliated by Timothy had driven him to falsely arrest him on several occasions without suffering consequences for his sloppy actions. Apparently he has been shaping-up lately but as I understood it, before Timothy’s death. He seems to be running some weird actions under the council’s nose but I haven’t managed to figure out what.
-Rum Rogers II

PS. I’ve met this Mr. Crowley you spoke of. He seems like a decent fellow. Can’t see why he’s hanging around that Feisstopp though.

And finally the third and what I believe to be the most decisive of these letters…

Marked: 31st of March
Greetings Jack…
I took a gamble with Feisstopp by trying to get to some of the fellows he’s been talking with and I’ve found out a couple of interesting things. I’m not completely sure how any of this is related to Timothy but here’s what I’ve found out.

According to what I’ve discovered there is apparently a great deal of political interest that the governor is not entirely aware of. I’m not sure precisely what Feisstopp is up to, only that he’s aiming high and trying to get there fast. I’m not certain but Timothy could have possibly uncovered some disturbing information about Mr. Crowley’s involvement in these particular interests. Crowley’s claim is that he gets his wealth through donations from Feisstopp but it’s quite obvious that he’s pillaging merchant ships that are travelling between Mêlée and other islands outside the eye of “his lord” the King of England. My best guess would be that Feisstopp is trying to increase trade towards the favour of the Union Jack in order to end up on the good side of the Royal Navy.

So if I have understood correctly, Kevin Crowley is a pirate hired to keep other than British merchant ships away while also driving away other pirates and thieves.

Like I said, I’m not sure was Timothy on to something or did he just get Feisstopp angry. The most disturbing thing about this whole ordeal is the fact that Crowley seems to trust Feisstopp blindly. If you ask be the poor boy is getting himself in to more trouble than he can handle, and if the governor finds out about any of this I’m afraid that even his daughter’s affections towards the lad will not save him. I’ll be leaving this island shortly as I no longer feel very comfortable. I hope that I may have given you important information and above all I wish you can sleep more easily.
-R. R. JR.

I myself will not be travelling to Mêlée anytime soon. I just hope that Timothy may rest in peace. For there is very little that I can do about all of this.

16th of June 1671 Anno Domini – Location: Plunder Island, Puerto Pollo, Time: Afternoon
I have spent three days on Plunder now. Timothy’s niece, Elisabeth Schafer (a lovely girl), got married yesterday. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my stay here, even if the food is bad and the accommodations are poor. We also had a surprise visitor, Mr. Crowley. Quite strange to find Mêlée’s finest at the edge of the Tri-island Area. Crowley explained me that he and his crew were just running some errands for Feisstopp and were forced to come to port in order to make some repairs. Though I haven’t a clue on what errand Feisstopp sent Crowley it sure as hell wasn’t fruit delivery.

The port in to which they came was owned by a particularly nasty sort called Kenneth Foulmouth. His fees are outrageous and his attitude stinks but luckily his mother keeps him in check for the most part. When I saw Crowley’s ship I immediately knew that she had seen battle. Though Crowley obviously had talent in keeping her afloat it looked like it had been a narrow escape. His men were waiting near the ship and it was obvious that they had lost some crew. I remember from my days on the seas, it wasn’t fun and play back then and it still isn’t.

Crowley has really got himself in to trouble for coming all the way here. I fear that if it’s not the pirates that’ll get him, it will be the port-officials. Pirates are not welcome here and the few that are have the authorities in their grasp.


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