OOC- I'm happy for anyone to join this once they PM me their idea. This is a central part of Paracambian history so it kind of has a definite end point. I also have no issue if rather than RPing your nation you want to create a character and come along for the ride.
1743 Basseton, Island of Alemba
The Insolent, a Frigate of 32 guns belonging to Imperial Paracambian Navy, had docked late at night and now as the sun rose over the beautiful tropical island crowds gathered down at the docks to catch a glimpse of the boat. It's newly painted hull and glistening trimmings sparkled in the early morning sunlight. Captain Jebadiah Braithwaite made his down the gangplank, his bright green jacket piped with red and yellow braid cascading from his left shoulder. "Good morning fine people" he said as he made a bowing gesture with his Bicorne hat.
"Welcome to Alemba Sir" a young Marine Officer, tasked with guard of the dockyard saluted.
"Thank you" Braithwaite straightened the man's crossbelt. "A smart man is a ready man" he moved past the now blushing Marine and headed for the end of the pier, his men from the ship prepared to leave the boat but a strong loud voice halted them.
"Stand your ground" Sergeant Greaves of the Marines yelled, instinctively the men froze. "We have 24 hours here, under no circumstances are you to drink, whore or otherwise act in a manner unbecoming an Imperial servant. Any of you come back hungover or riddled with the pox and I'll flog the skin off your back and wear it as a scarf, do we understand?" There was silence, "DO WE UNDERSTAND?" he asked again. This time a chorus of "Yes Sergeant" filled the air. "Right get off my ship then." A loud cheer followed by the sound of feet rushing down the wooden boards filled the air, in their eagerness to get ashore some of the skeleton crew of The Insolent fell into the sea a bellow of laughter coming from the rest. Some where meet at the dockside by family, others immediately began flirting with the local girls who had come down to see the vessel.
Braithwaite headed for the market square, he'd been to Alemba countless times, often on routine patrol against pirates, sometimes to repair after clashes with the Seleucid slave ships, more than regularly they won those and brought their freed slaves to islands such as this to give them their freedom. Hundreds of years this had gone on with the Paracambians refusing to accept the yoke of Seleucid slavery for anyone. It had helped boost their population and the slaves had even helped expand the Empire onto new islands. The Insolent however had fallen on hard times, he had been wounded in one such clash and while lying in his bunk with a fever he'd been lucky to survive his now deceased 2nd in Command had tried to take on three slave ships, resulting in much of the crew being killed, the officer a Commander Lincoln had himself been wounded, apparently hiding behind a barrel as the ship had been boarded. It was only Sergeant Greaves taking command of the defence that had saved the day. Two days later Braithwaites fever broke and having received Greaves report he made his way into the ships sick bay, there he had withdrawn his pistol and shot the Commander in the head. It wasn't that the man had failed, it wasn't even the fact he'd got lots of the crew killed, it was the fact he'd not faced the danger with his men, in Braithwaites opinion an officer who shirked danger wasn't an officer and therefore served no useful purpose.
It was with this disaster in mind that Braithwaite had planned on touring the islands and replenishing his crew. Alemba had been the first stop, it had a large fishing fleet and as such generally provided a useful supply of manpower. At the market square there was the regular hustle and bustle, fresh fruit being sold, vibrant colourful vegetables, red and green cloth being sewn into clothing of all kinds. He found a sturdy looking crate and climbed onto it, already a crowd was gathering but to get everyone's attention he cocked one of his twin pistols and fired it into the air, the smoke drifting away slowly in the still air. "Ladies and Gentleman, I am Captain Braithwaite for The Insolent, so called because we spearhead the fight against the evil Seleucid slave traders" a boo went through the crowd, primarily lead by a few Marines dressed in civilian clothing but the crowd soon joined in. "We are called The Insolent because we refuse to accept the tyranny of the Seleucid yoke, in fact we break those yokes every chance we get." This time a cheer, more organic than the boo. "But we have fallen upon hard times, our numbers are dwindling, recently 100 brave souls laid down their lives and joined Teku to watch over us and collect the stars with him. They died so we may be free, they died so no free man, woman or child will know the lash of the Seleucid whip. Today I stand before you asking.....no begging you to remember their sacrifice, to take into your heart their determination that Paracambi shall not rest until every slave on Mundus has been freed." Claps and cheers washed over him. "Now, I need men, I need brave souls willing to join our Navy and take the fight to the Seleucid. For doing that you shall receive a uniform.....and boys what lady doesn't love a man in uniform" He winked at a large lady with a flowery headscarf near the stage, "I'm right am I not darling?" he asked making the middle aged woman blush and the crowd laugh. "You'll receive a silver dollar for joining up" he twirled one in the air. "and then 2 Marks a month, one paid to you, the other paid to your next of kin. You also get a share of any plunder we take. So who wants some of the action?" he yelled.
Immediately three men moved through the crowd and said they wished to sign up, all of them his Marines in disguise. Egged on by the spirit of these men a further three came forward immediately and Braithwaite went through the process of signing them up. Others, mainly younger men in the crowd talked it over, some with loved ones. Some parents encouraged their children, often 2nd sons in large families to do so, it was a chance of a regular wage and income but also one less mouth to feed. "Don't you dare Thomas" one mother said to her young 16 year old son. She could see the twinkle in his eye, he'd always been easily swayed and was a romantic at heart, his harp his pride and joy he would sing songs of love, or the sea and of beauty in the local tavern, he actually earnt a decent income too.
"Mother, I have to, we're only free because of these men." He pulled away and walked forward, his small harp strung around him. "Sir, may I sign up?" Braithwaite looked the boy up and down, he was small for his age but the Captain could use small people, they got to the places others found hard.
"How old are you boy?"
"16 summers sir." Braithwaite seemed surprised, he'd guessed the boy was no more than 14.
"Write and sign your name and take the coin. If you can't write I shall do it for you" he offered a piece of paper and a pen.
"I can write sir" Thomas said proudly, one of the few people who could. He'd been taught by a failed missionary who had hoped to convert the island to Christianity two years ago. The Priest had hoped Thomas would convert and turn his musical skills to praising the Lord, however Thomas instead had read old stories and written his own songs of his nations past. Braithwaite looked impressed and the signature done he handed the boy the dollar. It was official Thomas had joined the Navy. His mother had watched heartbroken that one of her baby boys was heading off to war, maybe never to return. She walked home knowing the Captain liked to take his new recruits to the tavern to celebrate, and hopefully get a few more locals drunk and signed up. It gave her time to prepare for losing her son. She packed him a small pack, filled it with salted fish, meat, some spare clothing, his song book. She took his deceased fathers sword, a short marines one down from above the fireplace and headed back to the tavern.
"Son" She said as she approached, he was sat next to Braithwaite who for some reason had taken a liking to the boy. Thomas had been urged into singing and the pub was joining in. He stopped mid flow thinking his mother was to confront him. "I don't want you to go. But if you must then take this." she placed the sword on the table and Thomas didn't know what to say. His father had died when he was four and he had few memories of him. Braithwaite however recognised the sword and slid it towards him.
"Thomas, the son of a Marine of The Resolve....a good ship, a good crew, sadly missed" The ship had been decommisoned 12 years ago after being battered in an exchange with the Seleucid. Thomas father had been wounded in the defence as they limped the boat home and died just before they reached land. "Put it on, put it on" Braithwaite fussed around him strapping the sword belt on. "There we have it, Thomas The Minstral Boy, ready for the ranks of death hey" The Pub cheered as Braithwaite gave Thomas mum a hug. "I'll do all I can to bring him back to you. He's doing a brave thing, you should rejoice he whispered in her ear.
"I pray for the day he can play his harp in peace." was all she said before saying her emotional goodbye to her son keen for adventure.