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*It's been a while.

Jack Sparrow -- that's Captain Jack Sparrow -- strolls in, grinning wickedly, and heads straight for the bar.*

Rum, luv, if you'd be so kind.

*A bottle and a glass appear instantly, and Jack pats the bar approvingly.*

You're a treasure and no mistake, luv. A treasure indeed.

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*Jack considers this, eyes sparkling.*

That's an interesting question, mate. Can't say as I know for sure, having not usually looked for things from other worlds, savvy? But I got this map from an old gent that seemed to know a lot, and the compass to go with it.

*He pulls it out and flips it open, and shows it to Roland. It quite clearly does not point north.*

See the trick, mate?

Roland's interest level just got turned up to ~~nineteen~~ eleven. He peers at it, and says under his breath, "But this is a way-station on the side of the Tower -- "

He looks up at Jack and says, "Tell me."

*Jack grins at him and drags out the map. A careful observer may see a charcoal drawing of another world on the back of it as Jack spreads it out, and anyone familiar with Sario's work might even recognize it. Jack points to the front of the map, indicating an unmarked island cave.*

That's where I come from, mate. You can't reach that island without this compass, savvy, unless you already know where it is.

*He sets the map down and picks up the compass, then moves around to a few different spots, clearly showing that the compass moves to point to where the island would be.*

It leads me where I want to go, savvy? If I want the island, it leads me there. If I want this place, it brings me here. The want's the thing, mate.

Roland looks impressed.

"And you said you got this from an old man in Singapore?" A thought occurs to him. "Did you ever hear a strange noise -- a warbling noise, like one that tried to make your ears bleed -- while you were there?"

*Jack shrugs.*

I've heard a lot of strange noises in Singapore, mate. It's a very loud place, savvy?

"This one would have been constant. The kind of thing that might drive you mad if you listened to it long enough."

*Jack grins wickedly.*

Some might say I'm already mad, mate.

*He sobers then, and takes another drink, a long one.*

Might have. Can't say for certain, mind, but I might have.

Roland nods. "If you do...it comes from a place where the fabric of existence has rubbed thin. Stay away from it. It's dangerous."

He thinks. "Was there anything strange about the old man in Singapore who gave you this compass?"

*Jack is still looking unnaturally serious.*

What sort of strange, mate? It's Singapore.

"Strange even for Singapore, then. Perhaps he didn't seem like he belonged, or that he was unfamiliar with the way the world worked. Mayhap he used words that sounded like no language you've ever heard." Jack's a corsair; Roland figures he's heard a lot of languages. "Mayhap he dressed oddly, or he seemed uncomfortable." A thought occurs to him. "He might have dressed in dark blue robes and kept his head covered."

*Jack looks into the glass for a moment, then pierces Roland with a sharp black gaze.*

You seem awfully interested in this fellow, mate.

Roland looks back at Jack and doesn't say anything.

*Jack studies him for a moment, eyes glittering, then grins.*

No blue robes. Didn't cover his head. He's an older gent, with little hair on his head, a long gray beard and ... strange eyes. Speaks Chinese, French, and English that I heard, savvy?

Knows a lot. Gave me the compass because he said I'd need to travel to strange places.

*He takes another drink of rum.*

Roland nods. "Ever see him again?"

*Jack grins wickedly.* A couple of times, aye.

The grin can't mean anything good. For the old man, anyway.

Roland looks at Jack, and can't help smirking a bit. "Should I ask what came of it?"

Business, mate. Strictly business.

*Jack grins again, and drinks more rum.*

He's a helpful sort of fellow to know.

"For a man in your trade?"

The smirk is still there.

*Jack's still grinning, and looks completely unrepentant.*

You might say that, mate.

*He holds up the bottle.*

More rum?

Roland shakes his head. "Say thankya, but no." His glass is still mostly full. "There's an enemy of mine here, now. Won't do to dull my senses."

*Sharp black eyes glitter.*

An enemy?

"An enemy. An old enemy." Roland toys with his pen briefly. "My oldest. He's a wizard. Brought down my world, and others. Dresses in black. Laughs too much. He goes by Walter, or sometimes Flagg, though I knew him when I was young as Marten Broadcloak."

He puts down the pen. "Keep a wary eye out, while you're here. He's dangerous."

*Jack nods.*

I'll do that, mate. I know what it's like to have an enemy of the devoted sort, savvy?

*He refills his glass, and his hand brushes across his pistol idly.*

But he's not here now, and so you should enjoy the opportune moment, mate.

Roland eyes Jack for a moment...and then figures that maybe one more little drink won't hurt.

So he drinks.

"Your devoted enemy -- was he a wizard?"

*Jack shakes his head, braids and beads flying and clicking.*

Pirate, and a mutineer. A damned traitor.

*He suddenly grins, and there's a dangerous light in his eye.*

Truly so, at that, savvy?