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Alonso runs from the pursuing Indians, but he was heading straight to the French pirate ship. Of course, things could not be better for him! He stops, grabs his rapier, and stands guard at the gates to his colony. He had sworn to protect the people, and so he would. Two men, each holding breach weapons, take up stance next to him. They fire, cutting two of the hostile Indians down. He parries an axe thrust from one of the Indians' tomahawks, and comes back with a thrust of his own.

"Git away, you foul mouthed primitives!" the man to his right says, and Alonso has no choice but to back away. He did not like calling them that, never did, of course, he spent months with them at a time, knew the Indians well. "Git up here, you spineless blasphemer!"

Alonso jumps back into the fray, regrettably. Again he defends the small colonial town. And after the skirmish, he directs his attention to the pirates threatening to break through the English ship blockade. Thinking to himself that he picked the wrong job, he goes to the docks. The captain, a mean looking guy, is waiting for him.

"You Alonso Gallego?" the man asks, and Alonso nods affirmative. "I want yer last harvest. And yer best men for my crew. Don't give me what I want, I w'll take it, and I w'll keep your merchant ships from coming. Blow them out o' the water!"

"Look, I will give you no one, and give you our stockade of gun powder. Sounds more a fair trade. Please, I don't have the authority to do that, talk to the Governor...."

"I will talk to this governour of yer's. But, first off, here is a present...." He throws a hand bomb onto the deck of the dock, and takes off. Alonso's eyes get wide, and he grabs a barrel from beside him. He checks it, wheat, and puts it over the bomb. He starts running towards the ship, the only way he could go. The explosion destroys most of that part of the dock, but he saves other more vital parts.

Then he sighs and slumps to the docks. "Dammit, why am I the one that gets to play with these people? I swear, a few men would have been nice. Now we have pirates in the commons, and ships that can't get to port." He sighs and stands, dusting himself off.

Walking through the woods was always such a peaceful thing for Adam... he never asked for much, ad what he didn't have, he and his men stole. Always fascinated with chivalry, and yet a bandit through and through, made for an odd character to be certain. Never allowing rape or burning down of houses, he told his men that such work was for the savages to the northern lands... they would always just shrug and accept his word. It did little to try and resist Adam, everyone knew that in order to become the new leader of the group, you had to beat the current one, and Adam was not easily beat. There where rumors throughout the countryside and even in the group itself that Adam was different from the normal man, as cunning as a wolf some said. Even going as far as to say that when he was being his craftiest, his eyes would flicker gold, like the wolf that he had been named when he had first made his presence known as a bandit and labeled an outlaw. Peasants feared him, but he still held a measure of respect in the peasantry's eyes on part to his oddly chivalrous nature. Even so, under different names and different identities, Adam was known to seduce more than one barmaid before escaping in the night. Adam strolled through the dark forest, the moonlight guiding him on his way back to his men. He stopped suddenly as his vision blurred, "Ughn, spoiled wine?" But as he looked down at his hands he saw them as clear as day, "No, the world is fadi-" But the quiet English countryside would not hear him complete that sentence.