"Your key go to a chest. And it is what lay inside the chest you seek, don't it?"

"It was not worth feeling what small, fleeting joy life brings. An' so, him carve out him heart, lock it away in a chest, an' hide de chest from de world. De key, he keep wit' him at all times."

Nearly 200 years before Captain Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl, there was a locksmith and chestmaker who went by the name of Coopersmith. So skilled was he in his craft that he caught the attention of Davy Jones himself, who commissioned Coopersmith a unique task: he wanted a chest to contain his still-beating heart. Coopersmith created this Dead Man's Chest and its corresponding key, but before giving it to Jones, he made a drawing of the key and kept it for himself.

As the years passed, so did the drawing-- first to Coopersmith's son, and then to his grandson. It was a well-kept family secret...or so they thought.


Almost thirteen years ago, Captain Jack Sparrow made a deal with Davy Jones to raise his ship from the depths, only to lose that ship two years later to mutiny. After eight years of pursuit, he finally has his Pearl back, and Jack's attention has shifted to an even graver predicament: his time is running out. His thirteen years are almost up, and it is only a matter of time before Jones comes to collect Jack's soul. Obviously feeling less than inclined to give up his soul so shortly after regaining his life, Jack sets about finding a way to escape his gruesome fate. After a bit of asking around, Jack learns the tale of Coopersmith and the drawing of the key. Now he must find Coopersmith's grandson before time runs out, or be doomed to a lifetime of service aboard the Flying Dutchman.

<center>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*</center>
This RPG plot has been brought to you by PotR and LDM (and maybe Melda, eventually, if she loves us).

The RPG will be occuring just before DMC (the background information isn't made up; it's all canon), but slightly AU in that Will and Elizabeth will be joining them. We'll be starting with Jack's arrival in Port Royal.

<center>~Characters~</center>
After much deliberation, we've all decided that while it's nice to have one character who you know you play well and always play in every single RPG, such an arrangement also makes it very hard for people to branch out. So, just to shake things up a bit, one of the rules of this RPG is that you may not play anyone you usually play, nor will there be any OCs. The closest thing to an OC will be a few of the crewmen who are only known by name and don't play any substantial role in the films. The characters involved are:

Captain Jack Sparrow- Lady Dark Moon
Will Turner- Meldawen
Elizabeth Swann- pirateoftherings
Joshamee Gibbs- Elegost
Marty- Caunion the Frost Lord
Mr. Cotton & Parrot- Elegost
Leech- Captain Faramir
Duncan- Fencing Maiden
Ladbroc- Amoniel
LeJon-
Sweepy-
Crimp-
Tearlach-
Quartetto-

<center>~Rules~</center>
~ No OCs
~ No playing a character who you usually play
~ No powerplaying
~ Try to be literate. We know that occasionally it's impossible to write more than a few sentences when RPing, but do your best to avoid one-sentence posts and all-dialogue posts. Let us know what your character is thinking. Strike up a conversation. Do something useful. Just don't make ridiculously short posts, 'kay?

Of course Melda loves you Melda also likes to talk about herself in third person. It's an odd trait about her.

Randomness over I'm normal now. Or as close to as possible.

_________________

May I have Gibbs?

_________________


Will be going to London on March of the 30th

((Don't you typically play him, Faramir? Elegost has also pm'd me requesting him, so would you mind trying out a different character?))

Could I play Davy or is he out of the picture, there?

_________________

I was cured all right.

((Davy's not really in the picture (at least right now) Caunion. Wanna try your hand at a crewman?))

Very well, Marty then.

_________________

I was cured all right.

Don't you mean Aerandir the genius parrot?

_________________

((:teehee: Aye, they're all yours, Ellie.))

"So you're his cousin." The less than impressed statement fell flat. The man, a baker by his immaculate apron, leaned against his doorframe and scowled for the third time in as many minutes.

Captain Jack Sparrow cringed and held both hands up in front of his face. "No, no, no. Ye 'aven't been listening at all, mate. I'm the cousin of his great aunt's nephew's wife on 'is mummy's side of the family, twice removed. Savvy?"

Oblivious to the odd stares from the passerbys on the streets of Port Royal, the man screwed his face in abject bemusement. He waved vaguely at the blacksmith shop next door. "So you're Mr. Turner's aunt's cousin - "

"Great aunt."

" - great aunt's cousin's nephew's sister - "

"Wife."

" - on his mummy's side of the family."

"Twice removed." Sparrow flashed a grin that could be accurately described as disarming by everyone except his fellow conversationist. At that, he could have sworn he witnessed steam blowing from the man's splotchy ears. He pointlessly pointed both index fingers at the sky and tactfully continued before his newfound friend could explode, "Do ye 'appen to know where I may find said relative?"

"At the market," answered the other through his teeth. "And the next time you come knocking at my door, I'll pull out my pistol and shoot you."

The next thing he knew, the charming Captain Jack Sparrow found the bloody door slammed in his face - by now an all too familiar sight. B.ugger that. Five different doors in the past hour. But at least this one had answered his question.

Muttering incoherent phrases under his breath, he backed down from the threshold and revolved in a circle. Which way to the market... which way to the market... Ah. That way. Smirking at no one in particular, he proceeded at a half-sober swagger down the bustling main avenue of Port Royal under the bright afternoon sun. A thread of intellect at the back of his mind told him to quicken his steps, as he'd anchored the Pearl at a sheltered cove a few miles from the port city. Needless to say, he wasn't exactly friends with the captain of the Royal Navy.

Eh, no worries... he thought a moment later. Gibbs can take care of himself and the crew. And if he can't, that's bloody well his problem.

_________________

Really, 'the market' was a very general description of said 'relative's' location. The smithy was off the main thoroughfare, easily found by the telltale ringing of hammer on anvil, the hiss of steam on hot metal, and various other indications, the most obvious one being the fact that there was a helpful sign above the door. Genius, that.

As usual, the name 'Brown' on the smithy's sign was deceptive. The work going on within the shop was done almost completely by one called 'Turner', who was currently acutely occupied with the fact that soon there would be a second one. A second Turner, that is. It made his hammer blows rather more forceful than was entirely his wont.

A gout of steam issued from the window, which was shut nearly to, and said Turner pushed it open, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his sleeve. Half-finished swordblade on the anvil, he was just turning back to complete it when -

Dreadlocks, a familiar weather-beaten overcoat and much-beloved tricorne, that unmistakeable swagger that spoke of rather too much drink in the recent past...

Will's already slightly strained expression took on an aspect of resignation as well. He shut the window, half-expecting a knock at the door and half-hoping it wouldn't come. Relative or not, a visit from Jack was not for the purpose of idle chatter, however much of it might take place anyway.

_________________

Pausing on the smithy's threshold, Jack sagely smoothed out his braided goatee [thank you potr] like a man twice his age and proceeded to glance innocently about. The snoring puke on the street corner looked too drunk for his own good, and Jack was ever fighting for the benefit of society. With this in mind, he stepped forth and pried the half-full rum bottle from the nerveless fingers. The rum smelled like Mr. Cotton's socks, but he found upon first taste that it wasn't bad at all.

Confidence bolstering from the very first swig, he emphatically knocked three times on the smithy's door, fervently hoping as he did so that dear William was in an agreeable mood.

_________________

Marty paced around the deck at least a thousand times. What in Davy Jones' Locker's name is Jack doing in here, he thought. They had at least passed five treasure ships, unguarded and ripe for the taking.

_________________

I was cured all right.

Will paused between vigorous hammer blows to glance up at the door. Well, here it went. He opened the door and beheld exactly who he expected to, rum bottle and all.

"Jack." This was by way of a greeting, along with an inclination of Will's head due more to habit than actual politeness. It was more of a bob anyway. Will didn't bother to invite the incorrigible pirate inside, knowing from experience that if he wanted in, he'd push past. Not that the blacksmith shop was the most hospitable of dwellings in any case.

On second thought - Will stepped out and shut the door behind him. Better not to have a groggy Mr. Brown complicating matters. "Back in Port Royal, I see."

_________________

"Miss, d'ye really think it's wise to be goin' off alone by yourself like this?" the maid inquired nervously, following her mistress around the room.

Elizabeth looked up briefly from stuffing a pair of breeches into her basket. "Estrella, how many times have I done this before?" she finally asked, impatiently blowing a strand of hair out of her face.

"Plenty o' times, Miss," Estrella conceded. "But-"

"Then you needn't worry," Elizabeth cut her off briskly. "Fetch me that shirt over there, will you?"

Estrella quickly complied and handed the young woman a coarse shirt that ought to have been far too large for her. "But Miss, what if th' Gov'ner should return?"

"You'll tell him that I've gone off to the market," Elizabeth replied, packing the shirt in next to the breeches and making sure both were covered.

"Alone, Miss?"

Elizabeth sighed and closed up the basket. "Tell him I would not be reasoned with," she said shortly. "He shouldn't find that too hard to believe. Don't worry, Estrella; I'll be back before supper. You shouldn't have to stall him for more than a few minutes."

Estrella reluctantly stepped aside to let Elizabeth out the back door. "Your father'll 'ave my 'ead if 'e ever finds out what you're really doin'," she muttered. "S'not proper, a young lady bein' alone with a young man like you do."

"Fortunately, my father will never find out," Elizabeth replied lightly, flashing Estrella a brief smile before closing the door and quickly making her way for the streets.

It is because I have not got an info about the other characters. I did not know that I should have PMed you before sorry about that. Anyway, if you want him to have that character, give him Gibbs then.

I am going away!!!

_________________


Will be going to London on March of the 30th