#hook enchanted

[hookenchanted]

Dear Captian James Hook,

I have finished reading the story of you and your lovely sorceress and I have but one inquiry, will there ever be more? I have found myself lost in dreams of the sea air buzzing with magic. It must be a pleasant feeling and I find myself filled with envy and longing. Please write back when you have the chance. Thank you, Captian for letting your story be told to the world.

Sincerely,

Mae

Dear Mae,

Firstly, permit me the opportunity to offer our sincere gratitude for your kind words. My sorceresses and I are always pleased to hear such acceptance of our story.

As to your question, our answer reads as thus: While there are no solid plans of when the next installment will arrive, there is plenty of our tale already crafted. Should new chapters be shared with the Neversea or beyond, proper announcements shall be made.

I hope this reply proves acceptable and that your dreams continue to be as adventurous as ever.

Kind Regards,

Jas. Hook, Captain.

[hookenchanted]

Notes from Rose’s thesis

The Eliott family of Devon, seat at Buckland Abbey  

Title: Baron Heathfield. — The first Lord Heathfield, Edmund Eliott  (b.1558- d.1618), a brave defender of England against the Spanish Armada in 1588, was knighted and given the title of Baron. Edmund’s son, William, died of sweating sickness there the title passed to his grandson, (2nd Baron Robyn b.1589 - d.1625).  Whom having married a daughter (Marion b.1592 - d.1613) of the nephew (Francis) and heir of Sir Francis Drake (m.1609) also joined the Navy and began a family tradition. The family settled down at Buckland Abbey, part of Marion’s dowry, from this marriage onward.  Robyn’s son was Clarence (3rd Baron b.1619 - d.1667), an Admiral and a cruel man by most accounts. 

Constance Towneley (b.1665 - d.1696)  married Bartholomew Eliott (4th Baron b.1650 - d.1712) in an arranged union (m.1683).  James Matthew (5th Baron b.1685) while eldest of three male children (6th Baron Hugh b.1688 - d.1729 & Lyonell b.1690 - d.1745), was hardly mentioned in the annals of his father.  Instead written memoirs of him exist in letters to and from his maiden-aunt, Emily Towneley (of his mother’s side, the Towneley’s of Burnley, Lancashire) who gives evidence of a close relationship between her, her sister and James.  Constance died of a fever when James is 13. After a short career as a privateer, he goes missing from any record (ca.1725).  Some theorize his disappearance coinciding with the appearance of one “Captain Hook” (so named for his dual-wielding of sword and hand held hook) in the Caribbean could in fact mean they are one and the same.  

General Sir George Augustus Eliott, son of Hugh, (7th Baron b.1717- d. 1790), through his valor of the the siege of Gibraltar (1779), added the fortress to the family crest after being recognized for his services by the crown.  Having no children of his own, he bequeathed Buckland Abbey, Nutwell in Woodbury, and other estates in Devon, to his nephew, Francis Augustus (8th Baron b.1750- d.1813).  Francis, called the late Lord Heathfield, who resided at Nutwell, and died in 1813, when the title became extinct.

[hookenchanted]

Log Date - First Night Home

Word passes fast when one has been out of town for so long a time.  My tailor was all accommodation, presenting my mistresses with the choicest cloth and finery he could provide.  He will have told at least a dozen of his closest friends of my return, and my lovely company, by noon - at least.  Hattie, how I must admit to missing an old friend. She was, of course, highly excited to see me after so long. As one of the few on this or any earth which I might call a friend, it was pleasant to sit and speak with her again. I had not dared bring Abigail and Rose near her establishment, as the last occurance I need is a meeting of my past and present clashing in a fray of hisses and claws. But fate and irony stalk my every movement.  

Either way, her girls will do their best to spread the news of my visit to their employer to all their customers, again the gossip web grows ever larger.  

There will have to be some kind of ceremony now, to officially welcome me into the fold of the Council once more.  Formalities, I know, and the preparations and visits, trade and protection funds to be collected filled my mind for most of the ride to the estate.  

And then we arrived at the Barony.  Rising out of the shadowed woods like the turrets of a fabled castle.  Imposing and elegant, mine and welcoming for once. 

My absence has made the servants docile, they scurried like my ladies’ kitten after its toys as I approached.  By God does it feel good to be feared again, by more than snivelling children, savages and my own cowardly crew.  Now I am king of my castle again, as prosaic as that sounds. One of the first orders I made upon walking through those carved front doors was to see the stables in working order.  My collection of bays was still in pristine condition, ready to take their turn galloping the grounds.  Both Abigail and Rose vanished into exploration, I do not deny the swell of pride as they ohhed and ahhed at their new home.  And true to their training, every domestic who came by demurred themselves before the mistresses of the house.  My ladies’ fine blushes only added to my pride.    

A Lord taking up his manor again must also attend to the business of the land.  I have neglected my duties for far too long in favour of my mad chase of Vengeance. All of the Pirate Lords have their businesses to command and my artisans have been without their master for too long.  My records have fallen out of date, these are the artisans in the town of St. Erasmus as of now, listed here for copying into my ledgers once we arrive.  

Blacksmith - Rollo Olofsson called Rollo Vafri

Hatter - Tursten Buchholtz

Goldsmith - Madelena Cardoso de Granada

Silversmith - Rafael Cardoso de Granada

Weaver - Elizabeth Winston

Tailor - Guilbert Emile Ives Beaulieu (I must commission him as soon as we make port, my ladies will be in need of full wardrobes)

Locksmith - Stephen Beauchamp

[hookenchanted]

He paused, stumbling over his ragged breath as his hand trembled.

Tears leaked from his eyes, “My father was a devil, my...m-my mother an angel, I only pray that I can be something in-between.  Something human and imperfect but virtuous and loving to my family - a family I n-never thought I would have.”

He bowed his head, pressing the rosary against his brow as he squeezed his eyes shut against the burning tears,  “Cleanse me of my transgressions and let me be clean and pure so that I can be worthy of the beauty that has been given unto me.  I have walked through fire and water, I have killed and died, but do not remove me from the beauty of your grace, O Mother Mary.  Create in me a fresh, clean heart that will not spoil all that it touches.  Lead me out of the shadow and into the light for I cannot find the way myself.  And...I am afraid.”

His prayer subsided into wordless images and feelings of pain and guilt that flashed through his head.  He did not know how long he knelt there, lost in the most fervent prayer he had ever offered.  The only thing that stirred him, some time later, was the rustle of skirts.  He glanced up.  

Abigail, in her simple blue day dress, was kneeling next to him.  She crossed herself, her fingers touching her forehead, her heart, and both her shoulders.  She clasped her hands before her and closed her eyes.

“Salve Regina, Mater misericordiae.” Abigail’s smooth voice flowed over the Latin easily and he watched, shocked, as his pagan sorceress recited the Hail Holy Queen prayer with as much reverence as she prayed to her Old Gods.  “Vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve.  Ad te clamamus exsules filii Hevae.  Ad te Suspiramus, gementes et flentes in hac lacrimarum valle.  Eia ergo, Advocata nostra, illos tuos misericordes oculos ad nos converte.  Et Iesum, benedictum fructum ventris tui, nobis post hoc exsilium ostende.  O clemens, o pia, o dulcis Virgo Maria.  Ora pro nobis, Sancta Dei Genitrix.  Ut digni efficiamur promissionibus Christi.  Amen.”

She crossed herself again and opened her eyes, turning to smile at him.

“I didn’t think you prayed to the Christian god.”

“I don’t,” she answered, “But I always liked Mary.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in Him.”

“Faith is a complicated thing, James.”  She looked up at the statue again and lit one of the white candles at the feet of the Virgin.  “I was baptized in the holy water of the Catholic Church.  I was raised in Her teachings and it was only when I reached my adolescence when I began to question.  But even through all of it, I loved the Holy Spirit.  I loved Mary.  The Feminine Divine was what I wanted from my faith, and it was what it couldn’t give me.  So I left the Church and found the Old Gods.  But I still respect the Blessed Mother.  I don’t know why I wouldn’t.”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, “And...speaking of mothers…”

Excerpt from Hook Charmed, Book II in Hook Enchanted

[hookenchanted]

Hello! How are you Captain? (Just curious)

Monotonous as the tedium of a never-changing life on the Never Sea can be, I do find myself missing the regularity of season change. With the weather so bound to the Wretched Boy and his fickle moods that it changes so inconstant, summer and winter and spring and fall are all at once and can be experienced in rapid, unnatural succession. My ladies tell me stories of things I can only half-remember, the natural progression of seasons changing on the Mainland in a way that only compliments rather than defies nature.

They tell me of hot summer days spent lazing in the shade, those heavy and oppressive summer evenings that give way to storms and the chill in the air that threatens the first kiss of autumn. Would that I could remember the beauty of nature rather than seeing in it and everywhere around me more reminders of the Boy's unnatural power over all of us playthings at his whim.

~Jas Hook

[hookenchanted]

Planescape sand Ravenloft also got reboots, and it'd be fun as hell to literally go to Hell, or deal with the Lady of Pain.

After centuries of a hellish existence upon the Never Sea, trapped in a limbo of immortality and bloodshed, tormented by a capricious and cruel Boy who enjoys toying with the lives of those he deems part of his games, I assure you I have no desire to go to Hell, whether at a table or in actuality. I have endured my share of pain in my life, from the cruelty of my father and the callous house he kept to the loss of my hand and the stripping away of all I have ever been to be reshaped into a Villain for a child's attempt of an amusing game. I have no interest or desire in dealing with a "Lady of Pain", even in pretend.

My Lady Witches assure me that these things you are proposing are all to be played as a make-believe fiction. How anyone could enjoy playing with such forces or enduring such hardship is beyond my understanding, not when I have been the Boy's unwilling playmate for far too long. I tire of hearing of these new cruelties and do not wish to be subjected to any more of them.

Other queries may be handled at the discretion of my Ladies. They have my heart and my trust.

~Captain J. Hook

[hookenchanted]

Would you ever do tomb of annihilation?

Hmm, no. In all likelihood, I'd start them on Ghosts of Saltmarsh. There's just so much in the module that would be familiar to the pirates playing. Islands and ghosts and ships? They would understand that. It's also designed to be incredibly friendly for new players, which most of them would be, so it would be easy to introduce them to the possibility and experiences of a tabletop roleplaying game. After that, if they were still interested in playing make-believe with dice, then I might push them into some newer campaigns like Keys from the Golden Vault to get them working together on heists like the criminals they are.

But the great thing about D&D is how flexible it is and how many stories they can create together as they play. I'm sure it would be a fun experience enjoyed by many of them.

~Abigail

[hookenchanted]

I appreciate your honesty, O Captain, and respect that you know you cannot be trusted with such a force, even if it is within the context of a fictional role-playing game. Not many have the fortitude to turn down reality-bending power. Perhaps you should sit this one out for now, and watch a session if you'd prefer.

And to the Lady Witches: have you reached out to the likes of Chase, Silver, Anne, and O'Malley about potentially playing the game? I know with certainty Vane will sit out, much to his loss (or the party's benefit, he seems like a munchkin/murderhobo in the making) as he would find it beneath him. Also, don't tell Vane I called him a murderhobo please.

On the contrary, I think Charles Vane is a man of great imagination and creativity. He clearly showed it in his life on the Mainland, and he is forever imagining himself to be greater than he truly is on St. Erasmus. For all the insults he hurled at us, I think some recompense is in order. Rose might tell me to take the higher road and simply exclude him, but I think there are better ways to let him join the table and see how ill-equipped he truly is for any sort of cooperation with his peers. Even in the context of a fictional role-playing game.

It is entirely possible that he could enjoy himself, which is always a dangerous thought. He would enjoy the challenge of finding new ways to attempt to prove his superiority to his fellows however he could. But tabletop games have a way of bringing friends together. He might surprise all of us.

~Abigail