FLASHBACK - Any Port in the Storm

Isla de Matar...not the most subtle name for a pirate town, but hey, Artemus 'the Jackal' Cade had hardly found much to object to about it. He'd done his time gathering his plunder over the years and bought the place fair and square, what did he care what name other people had conjured for his cozy little island?
Sure it was a bit on the nose, but...well, there were no shortage of deaths on the island if he decided it. But mostly it was the scums' own doing when things got rowdy of an evening.
What the Jackal did know was that he never kept a ship long in port if he didn't hear about it before their captain even set foot on land. There had been far too many raids by the Crown of late for that to be permitted. Several ships were moored at the docks, near his own large galleon he had named the Götterdämmerung for its forty guns and various other...creations he had invented for its construction, but the new ship that had made port he had not recognized. When one of his many spies came in to inform him of its presence, he had been more than a bit surprised. The captain's name rang a bell.
Selina Martin.

How curious. A woman, at that. And so very successful. She would have to be watched, and he hardly trusted even the lookouts he had kept posted all around the island to do a sufficient job. The Jackal determined to ventured out himself, to the tavern where Captain Martin had last been spotted. He often preferred to keep to his mansion high atop the hill at the far end of the town, constructed mostly of the hulls of wrecked ships and solidified behind them with thicker walls. His sanctum was his haunt, and certainly he did not take to leaving it without cause. Leaning on his crutch, straightening the wooden peg braced with steel fittings that he kept in place of his left leg, he drew his coat about him and informed the servants not to allow anyone inside the fortress until he returned from town.

Taking one of the carts and a coachman, Cade drove down from the hill through the massive steel gates. It was a sight rarely seen, but in his cordiality he bowed and doffed his prodigious hat to all who paid their respects as he passed.
Which is to say, everyone. They knew who he was, what he did and certainly how well protected they all were. Scum though they all were, one had to pay their due to the devil when his hooves approached.
The cart stopped outside the dockside tavern, The Deacon's Court, and the scoundrels outside nodded their greetings to him. The tavern doors were opened and the form of Cade was immediately recognized, which caused the musicians to cease their merriment.
He was covered in pistols strapped across his chest, a long, stolen admiral's coat over his shoulders. The hat he wore was of prodigious size and his pointed, long beard and hair were neatly kept, the latter tied behind his head in a tail. His crutch and pegged leg thunked as he moved into the place, removing his hat.
"Gents," he said in a voice like charcoal as he snatched up one of the tavernkeeper's pipes from a rack and began to steadily load the bowl with tobacco, "Been far too long. The ale flows tonight, all drinks to the Jackal's account!"
There was a cheer and a relief settled on all of those present as they resumed their drinking. The musicians too began to play their tune again, but softer and with more precision. Cade limped toward the tavernkeeper, who greeted him pleasantly.
"M'lord! Hope all keeps well."
"Well enough, but belay that. I hear tell there be a set of newcomers to my little slice o' paradise and I'd be keen to locate them."
"Oh....of course, sir. Sh-she's over there, sir. Never seen her in person, meself."
The tavernkeeper nodded to a corner and Cade turned as he saw...a very stunning woman at the other end of the place.
"....curious." the Jackal replied, taking an offered wick from the tavernkeeper and lighting the pipe in his hand.
He made certain she knew he was looking at her.