City of Greyhawk, two weeks prior:

"You..." the man added, reaching already for the sword at his side.

"Me..." the answer came, the scruffy looking captain added.

Swords clashed quickly, both men were evenly matched, the man in
black and the captain fighting hard. Blood flowed, the stains
splattering the finely decorated room, until the captain rushed
headlong, grabbing the man in back, causing both men to fall out the
fourth story.

The sickening crash followed by the bone breaking *Thud* caused the
casual passersby to stop. A woman in the crowd screamed, nearby
horses reared up as the two bodies splayed in the blood, dust, and
mud of the city street. With effort the Captain slowly rose, holding
his arm in an awkward position, while the city watch quickly
gathered. The man in black gurgled twice, blood flowing freely from
his mouth, looking up at the Captain with plaintive eyes which slowly
dimmed.

The Captain turned towards the rest of the city guards, as they
quickly surrounded him, waiting for someone in authority to determine
the next course of action. Wiping the good hand on the front his fine
red leather coat, the captain nodded.

"I'm with the watch" he said, nodding at the lead guardsman, "get a
healer...and the wagon..."

Looking again at the dead man, the captain narrowed his eyes, "I'm
done"
****************************************************************
Two weeks later.

The arm still hurt, and the decision to ride to gyruff was not
smartest, but since the affair with the Red Hand, he hadn't been
back, not since he left to deal with the personal matter. The one
thing he promised to resolve in this part of Oerth, which last little
bit which nearly killed him. Now maybe his friend would rest easier,
and he decided, he would be able to move on after seeing his remains
to his home.

The barony could be his in Sterich. It could have been his if he had
wanted it, the spoils of the Red Hand, but it was too much. He had
prided himself on being a free spirit, and the nagging feeling of
returning to the sea was becoming more than a simple feeling of
wanderlust. He had never stayed too long in one place, and in this
part of Oerth, he had put in too much time.


On a hilltop of blue flowers, he stopped the horse and stretched,
looking over the expanse which was a battlefield in years past. He
rubbed his hands, getting a bit of feeling back in them before he
returned to the horse, producing a small box.

"Hell, I don't know if you would want this or a tomb" he began, but
stopped short, nodding to himself as if deciding, "Best I can do is
this. Freedom in your homeland, as promised."

Taking up the box, he opened the lid, and tossed the ashen contents
upwards, allowing the wind to carrying the ashes upwards, spreading
across the valley. For a long moment, he stood there watching,
thinking to his early days in Geoff, looking over the events past and
present with his companions. There was a lot of blood there, a lot of
hurt, and more than a little pain. There were moments of strength
there too...from the dragons on the bridge to the heartwood, and
finally, the taste of spring, missing for so long after a terrible
winter.

He pulled himself onto the horse, but not before picking a blue
flower, pinning it to his coat, offsetting the brilliant red with the
perfect blue.

He rode across the roads for a while, heading towards the inn where
months before he had met with Maximus and the rest of his companions
for a final drink, a drink in calibration between comrades in arms.
It felt like a lifetime ago, but then again, everything did, always
feeling weary like that, and as if it was something he knew all too
well had happened previously.

He pushed the doors open, looking about. Moving up to the bar, he put
a few coins down and pulled a wooden cup of wine up, drinking it
quickly.

He stood there for a moment, thinking about what to do. The last of
the ties keeping him here, the tasks he had to do were over. The ship
was ready to sail, and the baronies called. Yet, there was another
thing. He knew he would have to resolve the issue with the priestess
with the chain, and then there was the cousin of Melody the
Evvergrynne, Brigit. A half-smile crooked on his face, as he drank
the next cup, thinking to himself of the blade-sorceress, and the Red
Hand of Doom.

"Hell" he found himself saying under his breath, " you've nothing to
lose"

The words were more to himself than anyone, and he found himself
smiling now. What was there to lose? Nothing really was left, he
might as well find her, and offer her a chance at something.

As he was leaving, he could feel himself lessened by the burdens of
the last few years. Fair or foul, good or bad, it was a good bit of
distance in life before someone had to run the guns, and he felt
himself free to choose the next chapter.

<Keep a weather eye mates, the windgauge is in your favor...rig for
battle, and keep your powder dry>

Captain Hawke
Dread Pirate
Legendary Captain
Scoundrel (professional)
Hero of Sterich
and Dragonslayer