Timeline, Overview, and Other Interesting Bits.

1-2-1690, Charles Towne (Nassau), New Providence Island, Bahamas: Born Sophia Ward to Caroline
Ward, waitress, and Jorge Mendez, member of the Spanish Navy.
4-21-1706, Nassau, Bahamas: Age 16, signed onto a merchant ship with best friend David Ross.
6-14-1708, in route from London to Bahamas: Merchant ship robbed, switched crews for the pirate
vessel when offered the chance.
2-1-1709, Nassau, Bahamas: Married Shane Russell.
3-17-1710, Spanish Main: Shane Russell dies in a skirmish with a merchant ship.
1714, Bahamas: A wanted name. Reigns as QuarterMaster aboard the Black Sara
8-30-1716, Abacos island, Bahamas: Sophie taken by Master Stephanos while careening the Black
Sara.
2-14-1717, Port Royal, Bahamas: The Black Sara sunk in a skirmish with the British Navy.
1775-1785, The Carolinas: Played smuggler and privateer for the colonies in revolution.
1812-1820, The Carolinas and New England: Played smuggler and privateer for the War of 1812.
1850, Bahamas: Returned home.
1860-1865, Bahamas: Provided supplies to the Confederates.
1920-1933, Bahamas: Rum runner
1982, Providence, Rhode Island: Played with Organized Crime in Boston.
2005, San Francisco: Moved to avoid possible fall out.

Line: The Dragon. Originator, Master Stephanos.

Powers: Flight, Cause Fear, Cause Violence.

"...You people can watch while I'm scrubbing these floors. And I'm scrubbin' the floors while you're
gawking. Maybe once ya tip me and it makes ya feel swell. In this crummy Southern town, In this
crummy old hotel. But you'll never guess to who you're talkin'. No. You couldn't ever guess to who
you're talkin'..."

Every once in awhile you have to think back to your beginnings. Whether the end is just about
to happen or you just walk down the beach and remember your first. Every new beginning is an
ending, and every ending is a beginning. Maybe that's why I remember my first beach as I walk my
last in Rhode Island.
What was once called Charles Towne, now Nassau for almost as long as I've been kicking, on
New Providence Island. The now famous and beautiful beaches were my first playground. Me and
Brian and the other tikes would chase after white sails on the horizon, bury each other in the sand, and
otherwise make a nuisance of our selves away from the busy adults.
My mama worked at a pub in the busy port town, supporting me and her after her love lost his
life aboard a Spanish galley. English Caroline Ward got a heap of harassment being not only an
unwed wench, but carrying the child of Spanish Jorge Mendez. Half the time the English said they
owned our bit of land and the other half it was Spanish or French. But we all knew the buccaneers
really were in charge.

"...Then one night there's a scream in the night, And you'll wonder who could that have been. And you
see me kinda grinnin' while I'm scrubbin'. And you say, "What's she got to grin?" I'll tell you..."

David Ross now, I could blame him for it all. The same age as me, it was David that showed
me how to get a few coins out of the ships pulling into the harbour. Always looking for runners for
messages or this and that. Mama likened us to lightning and thunder one day, never one without the
other. Running down the docks and from deck to deck we hardly came home to eat.
But it was David that first got us room on one ship for real coin. A merchant ship heading back
to England needed two new hands, and that was us. After small runs here and there as single trip crew,
David and I were proud of our real positions on the Pride of Mary. Sixteen and hiding under the name
of Ward and a boys breeches, we sailed without much of a problem for two whole years. He covered
my back and true sex. A finer friend I've never had. Even when Shane showed back up and invited us
to his crew, david still watched over me like a brother.

"...There's a ship, The Black Freighter with a skull on its masthead, will be coming in..."

Eighteen, like anyone anytime, is an age of changes. Already starting on my love affair with
the deep blue ocean, my legalities took a trip for the worse when the merchant ship became a target.
Pirate raids aplenty we knew about, hell, pirates a plently we knew back in port, but this was teh first
that the Mary was subject too.
Lowering the flag and coming to a halt, our captain did as soon as the Jack was run up the
sloop behind us. Cowering and fearing for his own life instead of anyone else was the reason, I just
know. Ordered to not raise our knives as the pirates boarded, I was fuming next to David when I
looked up and saw the first love of my life, Shane Russell.
Back in Nassau he was two years older and dashing, he had every girl blushing. That I caught
his eye as he secured our crew, I'm still in amazement, but he remembered me. Or at least remembered
David and I together. With a laugh and a bow, he asked if I wanted to go sailing with him. All it took
was one searching look to the captain of our nice little vessel and one of Shane and I was going on the
account. David after me and probably three more of that crew for having little pay, and we were
aboard the Black Sara, and I've never thought to do it different.

"...You gentlemen can say, "Hey gal, finish them floors! Get upstairs! What's wrong with you! Earn
your keep here! You toss me your tips and look out to the ships. But I'm counting your heads as I'm
making the beds. Cuz there's nobody gonna sleep here, honey. Nobody Nobody!..."

Now maybe that wasn't the best time, between having a bad catch of goods and a hull of rotten
food, but they were great times to me. Not even a year later I was Mrs Shane Russell, although I kept
my breeches. We sailed between the islands and scooped up easy catches in the Spanish Main. It was
what youngsters who didn't know better did, yelling into the wind and laughing in battle. Then, when I
was staying with a sick mama, word came back that casualties the Sara buried in the sea included my
husband of barely one year.
When you mourn what's lost in the sea, you learn that every time you're on her waves, you
aren't alone. Maybe it was puppy love, maybe it was true, maybe it was that the love of the sea was
just stronger. Whatever it was, I was back on Sara's decks and yelling once again. David, healed from
the same skirmish, yelling alongside me and the prize lowering their flags in surrender.

"...Then one night there's a scream in the night. And you say, "Who's that kicking up a row?" And ya
see me kinda starin' out the winda. And you say, "What's she got to stare at now?" I'll tell ya..."

Four years later and the Quartermaster of the Black Sara is me. Maybe not the Captain, but I
was god compared to him. Dividing the booty and making sure everything is running the way it
should. We were successful enough that my name was heard in the navies ears and my mama owned
the tavern she used to work in. Married as well to the old bar keep, she was. I like to think I did good
by my mama, at least she never cursed me for anything but staying away too long.
How we managed to stay afloat and out of the gallows that long when the more notorious
names were taking a short drop and sudden stop is still beyond me. Maybe we merely took the smaller
loads or had the fastest ship, that I like to believe. The Sara gave us a lot of good times and a few
bloody days, but she held me safe until that one beach.
The Black Sara pulled up on a forgotten beach to be careened, the crew working hard to get us
off before the blue coats caught us, and we got caught by something else. Not as deserted as we
thought, the owner of the beach on Abacos invited us up to barter for some meat. A few jokes, an
exchange of coin with the mate I liked the least and the last thing I remember as a live soul were deep
grey eyes.

"...There's a ship, The Black Freighter turns around in the harbor, shootin' guns from her bow..."

The next five years passed in a blur drenched with blood and the cool roll of the ocean at night.
Stephanos, the owner of the beach was now my Master and I had enough of myself back to call myself
myself. The Black Sara lost it's streak of luck six months after our beach encounter and went under the
waves with the help of a cannon. And I learned how to control my thirst.
Island hopping to Andros to see the Master of the Islands secluded as close to Nassau as she
could without entering all the fighting. A quick visit to her court and hopping again to the cays and
beaches where the pirates dwelt, Stephanos and I did over and over. Glad I was that my time aboard a
vessel was not at an end, but to loose the daylight took it's toll for that first period of time. Always at
his side, I helped him and relearned the ways of buccaneer at night for years on years.
Between learning my new life and playing with my old, Stephanos taught me the finer points of
using violence for my keep. Raw force was the pirates way, and blunt cheating was the governments
way, and either will get you hanged. But to play the two sides against each other, or to just provide a
way for the wars to go on was the best, he said. That was the reason we traveled up to the newly
rebellious British colonies trying to gain their freedom. A few ships Stephanos let me lead and raid
while he sat in the Carolinas and sold off what I brought in. A few years later we did the same in the
next war but further north in New England. Thankfully we went home in the 1830's and I've never
been more grateful to see the refined beaches of my home than then.

"...Now, You gentlemen can wipe off that smile off your face. Cause every building in town is a flat
one. This whole frickin' place will be down to the ground. Only this cheap hotel standing up safe and
sound. And you yell, "Why do they spare that one?" Yes. That's what you say. "Why do they spare
that one?"..."

Our welcome home wasn't the pleasant relaxation that I had planned, but an attack on the
Master of the City after a year. The Greek who made me what I am was ever a conniving one and he
figured that the head of the vampires should have her, or his, hand in the pie of smuggling that
flourished always on the isles. Needless to say, my Master was a bit more cutthroat than Nicole and
that most of his flock were privateers and pirates helped a bit. We cut them down, we did, and took up
the sprawling house and caves on Andros in time for the next outbreak of unrest in the world of
politics.
The keeping of slaves, while they flourished on the islands and other countries, has never been
my habit. Running supplies to the confederates of the new nation to the north who supported slavery
was just good business to Stephanos, however. They were closer. And they paid a pretty penny. Our
own nation flourished while they wept over brothers slaying brothers. When they were done with their
guns and fighting, the Bahamas sighed with them at a loss of revenue.

"...All the night through, through the noise and to-do, You wonder who is that person that lives up
there? And you see me stepping out in the morning, Looking nice with a ribbon in my hair. And the
ship, The Black Freighter runs a flag up its masthead, and a cheer rings the air..."
 In the lull between wars, and during the wars, I took to the seas again. Leading a ship through
the dark waters to the brief glimpse of white sails and laterns was my biggest thrill. Seeing the whites
of their eyes grow when I stepped onto deck after flying the distance, filled me with joy. Watching the
crew drop their flag and cower in front of me as I was a wave of fear over them brought a laugh to my
throat. As my crew boarded, filled with a borrowed taste for violence from me, and subdue those who
dared to stand in our path, I whistled a tune.
From the Revolution, to running rum during the prohibition, it was all fun until the second of
hte world wars. The Allies on our home and my old kind of ships given up for subs, it was cause for a
revision of thinking lest we die out. Stephanos, while caught unawares at this new development,
finally got back into the action. As his favorite daughter, I got to try his ideas out.

"...By noontime the dock is a-swarmin' with men comin' out from the ghostly freighter. They move in
the shadows where no one can see. And they're chainin' up people and they're bringin' em to me, askin'
me, "Kill them NOW, or LATER?" Askin' ME! "Kill them now, or later?"..."

Playing on the contacts we had made while running rum, I was to bring the Master of the City
current into the twentieth century. Through Nassau, and Boston, and New York, and who knows how
many other places I went through. Finally I was settled in Rhode Island. Providence, the capitol is
called while I call New Providence home. The Master there was another of Stephanos' line, but broken
away and ruling well. Working between that master and the head of the crime families there, I kept
my hand busy playing at being a shark on land instead of the ocean, but keeping the water in sight.

Playing on the contacts we had made while running rum, I was to bring the Master of the City
into the twentieth century. Through Nassau, and Boston, and New York and who knows how many
smaller islands dotted across the Atlantic, I helped put him into the modern smuggling business.
Finally I settled in Rhode Island, the Master there another of Stephanos' line, to help set up a base of
operations. Working the edges of the organized crime, police, antique hunters, and vampires, I kept
my hand busy playing at being a shark on land a stones throw from the ocean.
Tired of running someone elses company, I decided to strike out on my own finally. What took
me so long to give into the calling freedom, who knows, but lining my pockets with the loot instead of
just a cut sounded good. Modern day humans seem obsessed with the treasure lost to the see with their
machines that can dig it up. So why not tell the spots I knew ships to have gone down to explorers?
Why not tell those who don't want to pay taxes where to hide in the coves? And everyone who didn't
have dirt on their faces thought I was merely selling antiques of a nautical nature.

"...Noon by the clock and so still by the dock You can hear a foghorn miles away. And in that quiet of
death, I'll say, "Right now. Right now!" Then they'll pile up the bodies. And I'll say, "That'll learn
ya!"..."

Everything was going well, my small front company and front owners prospering. When the
call came down that vampires were legal? In celebration, I fired the manager I couldn't before because
his disapearance would look suspicious and took the reigns of the Buried Treasure myself. Everything
seemed to run fine until a local 'businessman' who played under the table decided he didn't like me
sucking on his sons neck. Rather than cause a war between the underground and those of us truly
underground, I decided to leave. Or rather, was told to leave.
Selling my company and scanning the possible beaches to 'retire' to, I found that while I've
played up and down the Atlantic coast, I don't believe business or pleasure has called me to the East
Coast. There's no way I'll live in a land locked town, so San Francisco it was. Maybe they don't have
as many rats, like any living where ships come in, but I can't stand not having the salty wind nearby.
So, to the Pacific I go. Another new town, another new Master. Maybe I'll build another store,
maybe not. Probably I'll keep up my contacts, sell off a few more shipwrecks, and see what the
criminal element is. Time to shut off the radio and catch my flight...

"...And the ship, The Black Freighter, disappears out to sea....

And
on
it
is
me."