Elizabeth
Zulprisa Island, Pirate Tavern

There wasn't a thing about The Southern Isles that the Prince didn't like. The climate, the women, and the fact that no one seemed to care who he was. His first taste of the land came when he was just 14 years old. He accompanied his Father's adviser on a trading operation that lasted three days. On the third day, the ship left without the Prince because he had simply vanished under the cover of night. His guards searched the island for him for about a week before he turned up drunk in a tavern, and about five seconds from getting the noble blood spilled all over the dirty floor because he spent a small fortune on women and alcohol. He didn't realize his pockets were empty until it was much too late. He ended up walking away with a black eye, a small chunk of his hair missing, and a busted lip. The guards paid his debt and brought him home where they were repaid and then some by the Duke himself (for their silence). Brandon smiled every time he got a glimpse of himself with that black eye, and he would have many more as he learned the ways of pirates over the next 8 years.

He was given a ship for his 17th birthday (after he spent three years training to not get his ass kicked so easily, vanishing on more excursions for longer periods of time, and learning how to actually captain a ship.) His ship (named Isobel after his mother) was to be used for trading business only so of course he staffed it with Terresolian pirates, lowlifes, and criminals looking to get out of the Kingdom or face the rope. They did very little actual trading, well for Erba anyway, and an average journey lasted well over 3 months.

He'd been on Zulprisa Island about that long when the fight broke out. It wasn't abnormal, fighting in a pirate tavern was just a part of the scenery and enjoyed by all. Bran was with a few members of his crew when Barbosa rolled across the floor. Bran laughed shortly then quieted down with everyone else to hear the exchange between the two of them. When the laughter erupted, he was among the voices. It wasn't everyday a fight ended with a man scurrying away like he was about to go tell his Mother.

Bran picked up his pitcher of ale then made his way over to the group. He didn't usually flaunt his wealth, that was just survival, but he had to do something for the spectacular performance he'd just witnessed. He placed the pitcher on the table hard, but the slam was lost in all the activity in the room. "That one's for you. I've got another one coming," He said before he picked up Sparrow's old chair to take a seat at the table. He still had his own cup partially filled. He raised it to Randall, "May I never owe you a debt, but always be around to see you collect."
Johnny
Randall Hardin, Mercenary
Zulprisa Island, Pirate Tavern

 When Bran walked over, Randall was busying himself with cleaning off his knuckles after the very one-sided scuffle with the lovely BS pirate... Swear on his mother that's the dude's initials and that is *Glorious*. Hell, a few pirates near the merc were cracking *Jokes* About it. "Guess BS *Stank* As a pirate, eh," One hefty, tattooed man boisterously joked as he elbowed Randall's armored side (he still wore his old, iron cuirass and shield after all) while other folks cracked similar, awful jokes as he just laughed alongside them. At least he apparently made a good first impression in town! Not many could ever hope to bust a man's nose and get *Praise* For it. Or apparently ale, as Bran would soon appear and offer the pitcher as the Hardin was soon encouraged to sit and drink with the others. "Oh, wow! Thank ya very much!" Randall then poured himself a good amount while the other pirates gave various calls of 'aye!' after Bran's quick toast. "Oh, I can probably drink to that," The Pirate Puncher said with a light smile as he lifted his drink to Bran and took a mighty gulp. Today just got a *Hell* Of a lot better.
Jovan
Bert Potter, Innkeeper
Zulprisa Island, "The Armed Seahorse" Tavern

Morning's light broke into Bert's room, waking him up immediately - it was time to open the inn for the customers and the workers alike. He sprung up, quickly went through his short morning's routine and headed toward the door, unlocking it to see a couple of musicians already waiting around outside. 

"Good morning." His cheerful voice rang out, greeting the two as they came in. "The customers are not in yet, so just come along, settle down. Pay is about.. Five silver crowns per hour starting from when people come in." He explained while heading for the backdoor to let his hirelings into the inn as well.

Soon enough, the building starts to fill up with early birds and some patrons: the drunk and the weary, criminals and guards alike - they all came in for a drink and some grub...
Elizabeth
Zulprisa Island, Pirate Tavern

"Not a problem," Bran replied to the man's thanks. "The first real entertainment we've had in here for weeks. It's become so monotonous I've been more content watching the rats," He said and gestured with his head over to the corner where there was an obvious rat hole. "Really, it's for selfish purposes. A few more of those, and perhaps you'll see someone else in here who owes you a debt. Better yet, perhaps you'll see someone in here who owes me money." He smirked, "I'd wager that'll cost me a little more than ale though." 

Really, no one in the tavern owed the prince money. He was just bored enough to actually consider returning home, and he wanted to start a bit of trouble before he left. Senseless bloodshed seemed to be as good a parting gift to his beloved southern isles as any, but whose blood to spill? 

He looked around the tavern for a moment, and his blue eyes landed on the bloated owner of a brothel he frequented. He overcharged him once, and he treated his favorite girl badly and she quit. Bran looked back to the man across the table, "Are your services for hire?"
Johnny
Randall Hardin, Mercenary
Zulprisa Island, Pirate Tavern

 Randall politely listened to Bran, even offering a chuckle when he mentioned how fun it was to watch the Merc punch poor ol BS. In all honesty, the Old Seadog did say for him to remind the fucker of his debts and what better way than to *Beat* The reminder in? "Well, when someone does you a favor and asks for a favor back, who was I to say no, right?" Would've been a dick move to take a discounted bot ride and *Not* Help out. At any rate, the others around them seemed to calm a good bit and return to talking amongst each other as he'd then hear Bran's next question. "Am I for hire? Well, uh, it depends on the job and pay but yes! Been lookin' fer a job, actually. This is my first time out of the village and my island, so ,um... All sorts of exciting, you know?" The prince would be flashed with the biggest smile the Hardin could muster as he tapped his old shield. An emblem, worn heavily through use and the passage of time, was still barely on the rounded piece of metal as he showed it off.
Elizabeth
Zulprisa Island, Pirate Tavern

"First time out of the village and you're knocking pirates on their arse?" He smirked, "Granted, it was one that cried. However, you keep that up and you can get a place on any ship out of here you like." Brandon chuckled when he inquired after what kind of job he wanted, "Unfortunately, nothing that should have you quite that excited." He emptied the remaining contents of his cup then glanced back over at the owner of the brothel. "Another show," He added on before turning back to look at Randall. "It would be in your best interest, but you can't overdo it in one night. No one wants the company of a true lunatic on their ship, but a brawler is always useful." Bran tapped the table a few times, "Hm, maybe in a few days. I'll bring him here, you put on a show, you collect a satchel of my coin. Sound good?"