Mary is a light-framed woman barely taller than a musket. Her dark brown hair is cropped fairly short, her figure under her loose fitting sailor's garb is almost boyish. Her eyes are hazel in color. There is a hint of coldness beginning to grow in them.
Mary Nash was a born sailor Literally. She was born in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean as her parents emigrated to the Virginia colony. Her father was an oysterman, her mother ran a cookhouse. Mary started helping in the cookhouse as soon as she was big enough to hold a plate, but the sea always called to her, she begged, whined, threw tantrums, snuck aboard and owed away, whatever it took to be out on the water with her dad. Oyster fishing in the Chesapeake bay was a good life, even for mediocre oystermen, and her father was far from mediocre, he had a knack for it in fact.
But Mary wanted more. She was far from unhappy she loved her parents, her siblings, life out on the bay with her dad was pleasant indeed. But she could see the tall ships entering and leaving the sheltered waters of the great bay and as soon as her brothers were big enough to fill in, she signed aboard a ship headed for the Caribbean.
It was not quite what she had hoped for the ocean was glorious, she ahd been out on the open sea before, short trips and the long hours she spent up in the rigging on the journey south were blissful indeed. but the captain... he wasn the man her father was. A good sort, not particularly brutal to the crew, he took no liberties with her, or the other woman aboard. But he was cheap. The sails were not the best, the ropes were a bit frayed. And the gunpowder in the armory, inferior. This came back to haunt them.
Their ship was a Barque, and old vessel, not well cared for. The pirate was a sllek, carefully groomed pinnace packed with fighting men and cannon. They didn't have a prayer of escape, and the damn fool captain was to proud to give in. they fought and lost.
They could have won. Mary had always had a knack with guns. She took to them like a natural. As the pinnace came alongside, raking the Barque with grapeshot, grappling hooks arcing over the rail, Mary fired at who she thought was the captain. Hit him dead center of the chest, too. And then he got up. The powder, the powder. She snarled, reloaded, fired again, hit again. AS the Pirate skipper got up again, and led the charge over the rail onto the deck Mary could clearly see both bullets embedded in his leathe doublet.
The boarding action was over in less than a minute. The enraged pirate chief's aim towards Mary was clear: Rape and murder. His crew overruled him. They thought it was damned funny that their chief had nearly had his ticket punched - twice - by a slip of a girl. They gave her two choices: She could choose to be passed around like a sack of wine and get dumped over the side with her throat cut. Or she could choose to sign on with the crew.. She chose wisely.
There was only one major prize taken after she signed on, a merchantman. Impressed by her marksmanship in defense of her own vessel, the pirates gave her a chance to show what she could do with a decent musket and powder. She did well, picking off the quarry's helmsman, and the man who tried to replace him a a crucial moment.
And now she is in Port Royal, paid off and looking for a new ship. The freedom, the sheer rush of life and combat at sea has stirred something in her soul.
Cruel tom of the New Moon rising...she had heard talk of him. Interested, she headed towards the white Horse