Crikey McGillicutty, how can these pirates be such philistines? Their reckless mixing of red and white wine varietals borders on sacrilege and upsets my sensibilities. Not to mention their swilling of 25 year old whiskey like it was gut rot from Kingsport is shocking. I have also discovered they have no palette or appreciation for fine cheese. What sort of barbarian melts aged cheese and pours it atop beef? And over my good candelabras no less! Savages!

However, they have shown some culinary sense and are taken with the savory breads and delicate pastries that Alley has produced in her bakery. Who knew that pirates would have such a penchant for twisted bread rolls?

But, their gold coins shine as good as any other. Despite their social graces, or lack thereof, it has become clear that where there are pirates, there is booty. Where there is booty, there is the opportunity for trade. And the unsophisticated rapscallions have agreed to engage in some brisk trade with a man who doesn’t ask too many question.

Since I have never been accused of such, we have struck a festive trade agreement. For the use of the tavern and some storage facilities I am not liberty to discuss, I will take ownership of some coins from under the table. This practice seems unnecessary to me, as coins should be placed on top of the table so they can be counted and don’t get lost in the cracks of the floorboards. But, the pirates have their own system of business and I won’t let such arcane rituals stand in the way of making a few coins.

Working quickly, Alley has established an import export emporium near the tavern dock so we may expedite our trade under the cover of darkness, which is how pirates prefer to operate. They are quick and nimble under the cloak of night. They are far less daunting by candlelight I must admit, so this is a good practice.

To commence our business dealings, we have taken possession of several fine casks of ale, plenty of nondescript burlap sacks full of goodies, and many unmarked crates which shall be stored in an undisclosed location for an undisclosed amount of time. Apparently I will get “the signal” when they are ready to reclaim their goods.

I ponder the feasibility of these lax attitudes. But, they have been engaged in such endeavors for longer than I, so I shall continue with my mantra, and ask no questions.

Worthy of note, the pirates have commissioned a robust shipment of Alley’s delectable baked goods for their return voyage. Before long we might even engage the lads in high tea.


Well done my good man. You stand guard and make sure none abscond with any of these unknown goods from an unknown origin.


And yes, I do agree, using the longboat to navigate through town is a fine idea. I fully realize Iris was not made for these waters.

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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