The archer is in the marshalling yards, where reevers between crews go to get hired. Most reevers who go to these are of the worst of the bunch. Most unreliable, skilled at sailing, but too greedy for their own good. There's a dozen or so men in the yard, & he's the only one with a bow.

Rosiel approaches him. "You Marlan Brekkenridge?"

He looks you up & down. "Yep. Either I've gone mad, or you're Rosiel Rhea."

Rosiel replies, "I am."

Everyone in the yard stop talking & looks, fear in their eyes. A young boy faints. When the boy faints, nervous laughter fills the yard & someone splashes water on him.

Marlan says, "What're you doin' here, Rosiel? Ain't none of us heard from you or of you in ten years. You show up, no ship in sight, nothin' but that black robed sonuvabitch followin' you & close down Belcorn's shop an hour early for his midday meal. You're up to pure trouble." He grins.

Rosiel says, "I'm recruiting."

He looks you up & down, "Where's your ship?"

"If I think you're suitable and you sign on, you'll find out tomorrow."

A blonde haired woman lays her head on his shoulder as she sits next to him. He seems thoughtful, "Thing is, Rosiel, I was kinda here lookin' to recruit for myself."

He puts his hand on the woman's hair & strokes it lovingly.

"Is that so? I wondered what Belcorn saw in one of the sort who'd hang out here."

He looks around, "Belcorn, eh? What's his stake in this?"

"Belcorn is my quartermaster."

He arches an eyebrow. "Okay, I'm interested. Want some ale?"

Rosiel nods. "Let's talk."

He pulls a chair about & sits down. His woman grabs some cups & starts filling from a nearby keg. Amarcus sits nearby, & four others come over & sit near as Marlan sits. One of them looks a lot like him: long, dark brown hair that sits on his shoulders, square jaw, deep set brown eyes, a hint of larger than normal canine teeth. Another looks like the female version of him.

The other two? Like rough & ready sailing veterans, but no resemblance to Marlan

Rosiel sits across from Marlan, and mostly ignores the others.

"Now, I'll put my cards down right away: my brother, my cousin, my wife & I have decided to acquire us a ship, & my two old friends here agreed to come along. We figured we could get some youngbloods here & a few older folk from around the island, then make out & see what damage we could do. I've got some gold hidden, see, & I figure I can finance a start up."

"And what, then?"

"Mostly, we're banking on the fact that three werewolves is a formidable crew to begin with. What, then? Hell, just reeving. We don't wanna be under no one's thumb no more. Sick of working for mad captains who don't deliver. If we're gonna be failing to find good booty, we want it to be our fault. But if you think you can deliver... We'll listen."

Rosiel raises her eyebrows, waiting till that last, "I can. I have a line on a treasure that will make 'some gold' look like pocket change and a ship that could be the strongest on the seas, with the right crew, and I aim to make it that."

He smiles, looks around the yard, "I need more than your word, Rosiel. What proof of your claims?"

"I've come back from the dead to see Jowan Gheer in the Black Queen's hands." She again builds up an aura enough to show, then lets it die. "I've already begun aquiring the means, and I will need considerably more in men, gold, and power. Even Belcorn has seen the profit for those who follow me, and do you doubt he could run all trade on this island in another ten years if he stayed?"

At mention of your cause his people got very interested. He considers, looks to his friends, then back to you, "He well could, he well could. Do you, in fact, have a ship right now?"

"No. I intend to have one or the means to get one when my crew meets tomorrow."

He sighs, "I might have some information on a ship or two, come morning. We'll talk about that later. Captain, if I am to sail with you, I... well, we'll need to talk." He looks at his people, then back to you, "In a more private setting. Will you meet me later tonight, at the Cockerel Inn, around, say, 8?"

Rosiel studies him for a long moment, then nods. "I'll be there."

He nods, "And before we go any further, these five with me now? If I join you, it will be with all of them with me."

Rosiel nods. "I have places for them, if they've the skill I'm looking for."

He says, "I'll vouch for them as amongst the finest sailors you'll find, save maybe Ol' Bone-Nose."

Rosiel nods. "Good. I intend to have the best."

"Eight o' clock, at the Cockerel. Oh, & when I said privately," he nods at Amarcus, "I meant it. You can bring guards & whatnot, but when you & I talk, it will be one-on-one. If you don't trust me, bring silver."

Rosiel smirks. "I'll be here. Alone." She stands.

He nods, "Til then." He waves his people to follow him as he stands. He pulls the blonde woman to him & holds her around the waist as they leave.

Amarcus says, "When he spoke of his plans, he was lying."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I don't know what or why, but I saw it in his face. I expect he has bigger plans than what he revealed. He was holding back."

Rosiel nods. "I'm not surprised. So long as his plans are in line with mine."

"But he was right about one thing: Three werewolves is an impressive force."

Rosiel nods. "If they know what they're doing they'll make good sailors."

"They had the look of confidence to them. Who's next?"

Later:

The Cockerel is a rundown inn in the Red Pirate's area. As you enter, you see four of the five of Marlan's men in the common room. His wife is missing. The innkeep is a big ass high troll who looks bored. When you enter, he looks at you & says, "Fourth door on the right"

Rosiel walks past towards that door. Amarcus stays downstairs. Rosiel just goes in, curious to see whether he already knows I'm here or not.

He's sitting on the bed, conversing with someone in a big red cloak, covered head to toe in red. They are both startled as you enter, & the woman in red has a rapier out in a flash. Marlan just grins a wolfish grin at you. "Come in & close the door."

Rosiel does close the door behind her. "The Red Pirate, hmm?"

He nods, "Aye, both of us, you could say." The woman says nothing, but lowers her blade. "Which is what I want to talk to you about. This territory belongs to us, but we've suffered a set back at the hands of the Dawn."

Rosiel replies, "Two weeks ago, I hear. And you'll follow me because you know I'll take him down, but you want the second ship I capture."

He looks at his wife, then back at you. "Who told you that?"

Rosiel says, "I have my sources. Are they wrong?"

"No, they aren't," he sounds a little angry. "Did they tell you that if word gets out we've lost our fleet, we lose our territory to anyone who can roll in & take it? That that won't do anyone any good, & that i you keep it quiet until we can get a new ship, we'll let youin ion the benefits?"

Rosiel raises her eyebrows, "My sources are good, and as things stand, I have no intention of spreading word. As long as you work for me, your interests are my interests."

"An alliance, once we get our own ship again. You're the best chance we got right now, & we're some of the best crew you can find. We heard you got Errol with you, & Gunner Rhouk, & Sharug & Buru', & even Ol' Bone-Nose. That's a damned fine crew, but with my group, it's even better. Hell, it's damned near unstoppable. We'll take down Gheer for you all right, with pleasure. All we want is a ship in return. Then, an alliance."

Rosiel nods. "After Gheer is dead. Until then, your resources are mine."

He considers, then looks to his wife. She nods, & he says, "We're agreed. As for your first ship..." His wife says, "We feel certain if we get the rest of the crew you've gathered, we can easily take the Stormrunner. It's Captain Marrow's ship. He's the one with all the zombies."

Rosiel nods. "And I'll tell you now. At the moment, I intend the second ship I aquire to be my flagship. When I have her, you'll have your choice of the Stormrunner or the next ship after."

He looks to his wife, who doesn't respond. "It works out the same. Deal."

Rosiel nods. "Manwort's, then. Tomorrow morning."