A new recruit

Played on October 21th, 2007
As told in the voice of Olivia

April 14th, 1689

After the searching of the church and its surroundings we decided to move our examinations towards the nearby bar. By Davy Jones, I wish we hadn't. Of course, it started of harmlessly enough with Philip charming some silly serving wenches and the stuff like that. It all ended quite badly with everybody being very and utterly drunk -- except for Manuel. Then again, he didn't need to be drunk to say stupid stuff like "they're trying to steal our ship!". At least he got those drunken louts off of me who were feeling me up and groping me at all the wrong places. Not that I cared very much at that time but afterwards I should've thanked Manuel, I guess. We all got at the ship safely, although in a bit of a roundabout fashion which we are wont to do after drinking a bit much. I think I actually challenged The Unforgiving somewhere between the bar and the ship. Or so I was told.

April 15th, 1689

Once again I cursed myself, the creator of beer and rum, the world in general and Philip and William in particular. Those bastards don't have hangovers like normal people do. Steph made his hangover cure called "the bouncer" but that didn't help me a lot. After noon I had recovered enough to join in the conversation which seemed to circle around the fact that we'd obtained a book from 'Arvey (which he seemed to have obtained from Redfeather, bless his soul) which nobody of us could read. The others decided to ask the priest in the local church if he could perhaps help us. Priests can read, after all, and seem to be rather undoublecrossingly. Yeah, I just made that word up.
While the rest went to see the priest I stayed at the ship. To guard it, of course. The priest didn't want to read a lot because he surmised we were pirates and the book was loot. All the guys gathered was that the last entry was made on April 12th, by 'Arvey. In deep thoughts (or so they said) they moved to the bar to think up something new. Righto. Well, in the bar they met, besides new beer, John. John was a depressingly ugly little squak who stuttered. Y-y-yes, he stut-tut-tut-st-st-stut-tutters. I'm not exagerrating! Well, anyways, John was able to read and he could even do navigator-y stuff. He was promptly drafted into our merry band -- not that my opinion was asked, of course.

The rest of the day was spent by us telling our story to John, and John reading some stuff from Redfeather's book. Apparently, the book was Redfeather's so-called "Captain's Log", which is all important-like. It's some sort of diary for men. For captains even! It hold's Redfeather's thoughts since he obtained The Unforgiving. I wonder if he wrote down our little... err... incident... whatever. The last two entries in the book are from 'Arvey Curse-His-Name: one from April 4th and the final one from April 12th. On the April 4th entry he mentions "I curse myself, butt I'll get my revenge on that Redfeather." I guess that was the moment he discovered Redfeather had put the coordinates in the map tube. Hah! At this point they showed John (I didn't agree with this, but whatever, John seemed to be everybody's favourite in a hurry) the coordinates. The showoff drew a square on the map which represented the coordinates. I have to admit it more-or-less matched the directions Moe (bless his soul) gave us.
J-j-john then proceeded to read some more. He explained that Redfeather wrote "he was going to make it his life's mission" to find "the book of Allesandro Del Piero". No, wait, the captain had met one of his old mates in Curaçao and he told about a treasure "with riches untold and beyond belief". The book is suppposed to hold directions towards that treasure, and the log describes Redfeather learning that that book's resting place (are you following?) is found in the map case, found in Charlesfort. So that map case and those coordinates are ours now, and we were looking for a book, the so-called "Book of Allesandro Del Piero". I, for one, knew that "Allesandro del Piero" isn't an Italian name. If I had to guess, I'd put it down as being Spanish or Portugese.
Always looking for an excuse to drink, William and Philip once again ventured into town, going from bar to bar, looking for one "Allesandro Del Piero". Right, as if that guy was to be found there. At least they didn't want me to join them. I still had a headache.

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