[Crestshot]

Ok mates, here's the newest chapter of The Scathed. You all liked the last chapter, huh? Thanks for the reviews mates, they warm my little heart. Not too much commentary today, so I'll just take you to....

Lawrence Mcrage



“Here, take him!”
“Captain, what are you doing?!”
“You blasted little thief! I hope you rot in that cell Mcrage!”
“You...you did this to me!”
“He’s a liar, Captain. I am always loyal to you.”
“I will find you…and when I do, you’re going to wish you had never done this…”

Lawrence awoke. He sighed. Why did that have to pop into his sub consciousness? He ran a hand through his tangled hair. That was the last confrontation he wanted running through his mind. He turned his head, expecting Kat to be sitting in the chair, where she had been when he had fallen asleep.

She wasn’t there.

Lawrence shot up in the hard bed. Where had she gone? He scrambled out of the bed and grabbed his cutlass from where it lay on the ground. As he walked out the door, he clipped it around his waist. He was still limping slightly, but the pain wasn’t as excruciating as it had been before his sleep.

Downstairs, he found Kat sitting at the bar, sipping from a cup. Lawrence exhaled in relief at the sight of her. To be honest, he didn’t know why he had reacted in such a manner, but he was glad to see her. He gimped over to her and plopped down in the empty seat on her left side. “Hello,” he said.

Kat glanced at the man next to her. “Good evening,” she replied in greeting. She took a sip of her drink without looking at him. Rather, she looked straight at the wall.

“What is that you’re drinking?” he asked, trying to engage her in conversation. For some reason, she seemed very distant tonight.

She smirked at the wall. “Rum,” she told him. At this, she finally looked at him. “After you introduced me to it, I got the taste for it.” She turned back to the wall and began sipping her drink again.

After a time, Kat said, “So, did you enjoy your nap? Is your leg feeling better?” Her words were rather detached because of the rum in her system, but Lawrence could hear the warmth behind them.

“My leg is feeling much better, Kat, thank you,” he replied. “It practically feels brand new!”

Kat smiled. “Fabiola’s tonics work wonders. That woman is magic, she is.” She gave a low chuckle. The two then grew silent once more, Kat just sipping her drink and Lawrence watching her from the corner of his eye.

After a few moments, Kat broke the silence. “What happened to you Lawrence?” she asked softly, so softly that Lawrence wondered if it was actually directed towards him or just a passing thought. He knew it was the former when she continued speaking. “This is a pirate town, made for misfits and vagabonds, not someone like you. What happened?” Her voice sounded sad.

For the first time, Lawrence’s face darkened. He recalled the dream he’d just had. “It’s not exactly a short story, Kat,” he told her callously.

Kat noticed the change in his tone and felt a flicker of alarm. “Well, we’ve got some time,” she said. “C’mon, grab a bottle of rum and you can tell me.” She began calling Johnny over.

“Oi, Johnny!” she bellowed out to him. He turned from where he was on the far side of the bar. “What is it now, Kat?” he called back, not leaving his spot.

“Why don’t you come over here and find out you daft bloke!” she teased him. Johnny rushed over to her with anger in his step.

“Do you mind holding it with the insults, Kat?” he seethed. “That’s a brand new visitor, and I wanted to make something along the lines of a good impression.”

“Oh please Johnny,” she said, waving his concerns away. “This is a pirate town. He should be expecting anything and everything and a little bit of the impossible, you know?”

Johnny just hmphed. “Well, what do ya need then?” he asked as politely as he could through clenched teeth.

Kat smiled impishly at his reaction. Sometimes Johnny was far too easy and too fun to provoke. “One bottle of rum for my friend here Johnny, if you please,” she said mockingly. McVane grumbled while he grabbed a bottle from under the counter. “Here,” he muttered and held out his palm. Kat placed a few coins in his hand, and he walked away smiling, in a much better mood due to the jingling in his pocket.

Lawrence popped open his drink and took a long swig from it. Kat did the same and set the bottle down with a clunk. “So,” she said, looking him directly in the eyes. “Story time.”

Lawrence looked away from her stare and took another long drink. “Alright then,” he said. “But I’m telling you, it won’t be a fun story.” Kat stayed silent and mentally braced herself. Lawrence began.

“Well, I suppose that it starts after I left you in Port Royal. When I got back to the ship that night, I got in trouble with the captain. Marcus had let it leak that I had been in to see you and had given you new clothes.” He glanced at her. “I see they’ve held up well.” He gave a small, sad smile and continued with his story.

“Well, Marcus worded it in a way that made it seem like I had tricked him into letting me see you. He said that I had made him leave his post by telling him something of his was gone, so he supposedly left to go find it immediately, which is when I came in. When he had come back, I had been exiting the cabin, or so that’s what he told the captain.

“Marcus got in a little trouble for shirking his duties, but he’s been on that ship for a long time, so the captain trusted him. I, on the other hand, was rather new. I had only been on the ship for a few weeks, so I did not have his trust.” He paused, remembering that day, then spoke softly. “He gave me lashings for that, lashings I did not deserve. What is worse is that I received them at the hand of Marcus.” He was staring straight at the wall now, absorbed in his story. It was as if Kat wasn’t even there anymore. He was back on that ship, engaged in those same activities, trapped behind the whip.

“After that, things stayed pretty normal for a while, but the captain and the rest of the crew still resented me. The fact that I had accepted you so easily made them uneasy due to their superstitions. I did the best work I possibly did though, and never complained, hoping I could work myself back into their good graces. Nothing worked…once you get a bad reputation, you don’t lose it.

“We ported in Padres del Fuego about a month ago. Rough place, Padres. Only the insane and the desperate stay on the volcanic rock, but they pay good money for goods brought. Anyway, while we were docked there, a few crew members and I went to a tavern for some drinks and cards. I sat apart from them, playing poker with some local blokes and drinking some rum of my own. We were doing just fine, joking and having a good time, and for once, I didn’t have to worry about being ridiculed by those around me. It wasn’t long, though, before one of my crewmates sat down and bought his way into the game. So, we began playing.

“We played a few hands, and my crewmate began taunting me as I played, probably hoping to throw me off my game. He’d drank more than a few bottles of rum and I’m sure some other alcohol that night, so I tried ignoring him, knowing know good would come from engaging in his words. He was insistent though, and when I didn’t respond, he just got angry, but kept playing, trying to keep the hateful words going.

“A final hand came up and my crewmate was overjoyed with it. The bets went in, the flop, the turn, the river were drawn, and my crewmate and I were raising like crazy. All of the other players had folded long before, not wanting to get in the middle of the battle of wills that was going on. Finally the crewmate ran out of money to put in the pot, so both of our hands were shown. His eyes gleamed greedily, because he was sure he was going to win. I could see in them that he felt he had bested me, and for some reason, that made him feel victorious. Yes, I suppose bringing the lowest person on the ship a few notches lower would do that to a person,” Lawrence sighed bitterly.

“On the table was a three of hearts, six of clubs, four of hearts, two of hearts, and king of hearts, in that order. My crewmate arrogantly showed his Ace of hearts and two of spades; it was the flush with the high card. He was confident that he would clean me out without any issues.

“My hand was shown. It was the five of hearts and the six of hearts. I had gotten the straight flush, beating out my crewmate easily.

“To say he was furious would likely be an understatement. He accused me of cheating and made the dealer check the rest of the card deck for doubles of any cards, hoping he could corner me. None were found, and I took the pot, which was quite a bit of money, fair and square.

“I turned my back on him, taking all of my winnings and trying to get as much of it into my pockets as possible. When I tried to leave, he spoke to me again, insulting me. I turned back around, ready to face up to his insults, ready to tell him that I didn’t care if he was mad that he had lost. Then he began insulting everything else: My family, my heritage…you. They had seen how we had interacted last time so they belittled me for it.

“My fists clenched in anger. He saw this and his eyes darkened. I didn’t see it coming, but he took one of his own burly fists and clocked me across the face with it. We began fighting, and it wasn’t soon before he had the upper hand. He pinned me to the ground and insulted me some more, calling me…well, things you can’t really say in polite company. That made me even angrier, so I flipped him over and began pummeling every part of him I could reach. Unfortunately, that was when the captain decided to come in.

“He pulled me off of him and my…crewmate,” he spat the word, “was black and blue. My gold had fallen from my pockets all over the floor, and it sparkled up at me as glitters of rage. People were picking it up and stuffing it into their own pockets, but I didn’t care at that moment. It wasn’t until later that I realized I had lost all of my gold that night, and my pride was broken with it. Captain threw me into the brig for the rest of the night, and my crewmate got the gold I had won from him back. That night, my life was almost completely broken, but I still had something. I was still alive and I still technically had a job on the ship, even though it was mostly grunt work.

“All of that was lost about a week or two ago. I was working on the deck, fixing a cannon, when the captain stormed up to me and took me by the neck. He accused me of stealing precious items from his private quarters, such as a compass and some jewelry. My crewmate from the poker incident shared the same sleeping area as I and he had stolen the items and placed them with my things so, if it was discovered the items were stolen, I would get in trouble in place of him.

“Well, I did get in a lot of trouble for that. I was locked up in the brig of the ship until we ported. The captain said I was too much trouble and he couldn’t have me tainting the rest of his crew. We docked back in Padres a few days ago and I was tossed roughly into a cell to much jeering from the rest of the crew. However, I wasn’t there for more than a few hours before I noticed another jail mate escaping by kicking the door out. When he left, I tried it myself and found that it worked quite well. I escaped the prison and ran to the docks, hoping I could find a ride somewhere off of that mess of an island. There was a bloke there who said he would help me out and stowed me away on a Navy ship headed in the direction of Tortuga. He said he’d be willing to help me out because he’d heard of me the last time I was in Padres.

“While aboard the Navy ship, I was stuck in the hold for two days before one of the men found me. I remember a shout of surprise waking me from where I had been hiding. The one who had found me grabbed me and shoved me onto the deck into the bright sunlight.

“The captain examined me closely. His face was cold and unfeeling as he declared I would go overboard. I was lucky that Tortuga was in sight and close enough to swim to, otherwise I’d be floating at the bottom of the Caribbean right now. They grouped up on me and threw me overboard, and I was once more subjected to jeering as I swam for shore. I was almost killed when I walked onto shore by some rowdy, drunk men. It was then I realized I’d need something of my own to fight with, but I ran away from that one. I didn’t have anything and surely would have been sliced to ribbons by the rather sharp looking dagger the man held in his hand. There’s a blacksmith in town-you probably know him-who gave me a free, but crude, cutlass. I was just exploring the island earlier when those skeletons jumped me. You came then and…well, you know the story from there.”

Lawrence took a long drink in the silence that followed his story. Then he spoke softly once more. “Mcrage,” he nearly whispered. “That’s the name they gave me after the poker game. That’s what the crew called me, and that’s what that man at the dock had called me. He helped me because he knew me by my name. That’s one more thing I need to tell you, Kat.” He finally turned to look at her. Hard green eyes stared into her hazel ones. “I am no longer merely Lawrence anymore. My name is Lawrence Mcrage.”



Well, kind of a Lawrence-centric chapter there, but it was necessary. Constructive criticism is welcome (please)! Thank you again for the reviews that came last chapter for this new section of the story! I'm going to have a hand drawn picture of Lawrence posted on my profile sometime tomorrow, so go check it out! Next chapter is posted next week on Thursday again! Thanks for reading!

-Kat Crestshot