Introduction

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Me name’s Jericho Hawkes. I cap’n a ship’s known as Th’ Smuggler’s Moon. Been Cap’nin’ ‘er fer a good, long while, now… A lot longer than most other “pirate Cap’ns” can ever’ve claimed th’ so called honor, aye?

Sure, there have been them folks called pirate that’ve had long and storied careers as Cap’n. Not many, mind, but some. Folk like th’ Sea Lords of old… them blokes what founded Freeport and made her what she is at heart, aye? And in foundin’ Freeport, they may’ve proved themselves even more’n th’ pirates th’y was branded ta be early on…

Psh… I’m whooshin’ on like Bedessy th’ Wind…

Me point bein’, all th’ ramblin’ aside, more folk than not’ll have th’ word “pirate” come ta mind if not mouth as th’ name Jericho Hawkes whispers inta their ears.

Me!

A Pirate!

Aye, I cap’n an elvish boat an’ there ain’t th’ hint of a point ta me ears; I fly no colors but me own and, on occasion, th’ Freeport colors; me first mate, Khash, be havin’ more’n a wee bit o’ orc blood in ‘im, and, sure, some o’ th’ courses I’ve charted over these past years’ve been questionable in their legality.. but Pirate?!?! I reckon if ye wanna get particular about th’ definition, though, pirate’s as good a word as any of th’ others… brigand, freebooter, privateer… I don’t reckon I particularly care much what other folk choose ta call me, so long as I know in me own heart that what I truly am is a free man, aye?

Ye call me what ye like when ye tell this tale on down th’ line, lad, but no matter how ye go about th’ retellin’, ye keep ta mind that’s what I be regardless of th’ faery stories ye spin up, aye? A free man!

Heh… apologies, lad… ye dinnae ask about what I think about meself, did ye? Ye wanted ta hear th’ tale of how I come ta be where I be, aye? About how I come ta be master an commander o’ th’ Moon, an’ how I come ta have a half-orc as a first mate, an’ how me navigator’s a witch… with all th’ bucklin’ o’ th’ swash and th’ like? Well, when that wench comes round again, boyo, ye may consider orderin’ th’ bottle, cuz there’s a tale as long in th’ tellin’ as th’ sail ta Hamunaptra.

Ye’d likely not believe it ta look at me, or ta listen, fer that matter, but me Da were a right well-heeled merchant from th’ Ivory Ports. I dinnae remember ‘im at all, though. Jus’ remember cuz me Ma used ta tell me, aye? Dinnae recall much about Ma, these days, either, I reckon… but I remember ‘er tellin me about me Da, an’ that I were born off the Wyvern Isles… all th’ time… like it were important I knowed it … and I remember she were a sadly lovely lass…

Me first memories… me first years... were aboard an orcish pirate ship, ye see? An’ I reckon, comin’ up a human slave on a ship load o’ tuskers, she figgered ta make sure I knew I were different somehow… that I were human, maybe, or that I shouldn’ aspire ta the example them orcs were settin’ in me formative years an’ become a pirate meself if’ I lived old enough ta do so. I s’pose, though, if ye wanted ta pick th’ nits from it an’ fill yer head wit’ th’ hearsay an’ hullabaloo, me an’ Khash failed innat regard ta some d’gree, aye? Still an’ all, given th’ circ’mstances o’ it, we dinnae turn out’s bad as wha’ we could’ve an’ we likes ta think our Ma’d be, a’least, a wee bit proud o’ wha’ her boys become…

Wha’? I dinnae mention tha’ th’ half-orc’s me first mate an’ me brother?

Heh… tol’ ya tha’ ye’d be wantin’ th’ whole o’ th’ bottle, din’t I?

I reckon, too, tha’ now ye know how I come ta have a tusker fer a first mate, aye?

Whaddya mean, how’d I come ta have a half-orc brother? Same way’s I come ta have meself, mate! Y’see, a’times, people have sex an’…

Hahahaha! Aye! I’ll spare ye th’ gory p’rticulars… Th’ short of it’s this; me an’ Khash share a Ma but’s got diff’rnt Da’s, savvy? I were born on me Da’s ship an’, not too long a spell thereaft’r, Khash’s Da an’ ‘is crew set on me Da’s ship… Khash’s Da kilt all them aboard ‘cept fer them’s he kept fer slaves… me Ma amongst ‘em… Thar’s how I come ta spend me first years onnat Orc vessel, aye?... Now, th’ particl’r kinda slavery Orcs toss human women inta ain’t right pleasant an’, skippin’ th’ gorries agin, tha’s how Khash come ‘long.

Fate bein’ the ironic bitch she is, ‘tweren’t long aft’r Khash were born tha’ his Da’s ship got set on by some human Priv’teers outta Freeport an’ wha’ happened ta mine happened ta his, savvy? Skirmish took our Ma, then, too. So, it were jus’ me an’ Khash, then, an’ them Priv’teers, not havin’ time nor trouble fer a pair o’ wild eyed tusker brats, dumped us in th’ lap o’ the Sisters at Star O’ th’ Sea. Despite th’ sisters’ efforts, though, Khash an’ me pretty much raised ourselves… first on Freeport’s streets… then on th’ decks o’ whate’er scows we could get on as hands…

We was tendin’ sail on one such boat when a storm took ‘er down an’, a day or so later, Khash an’ me found ourselves onna beach a’ Eortis… an’ thar, mate, is where th’ tale begins fer true…

((OOC: Not sure where I’m going with this… well… I mean, I know where I’m going, I’m just not 100% sure exactly how I’m gonna get there. …er… ))