Apparently it began with a celebration.
My family has been indebted to the Marquis for years, too poor to afford better video quality or a dining room that's not connected to the front door. But all of that is about to change. While we were enjoying our poorly rendered food and clothing, our trading fleet was sailing three of the seven seas, acquiring vasts amounts of wealth, enough to make the King of Spain jealous (admittedly easier then you would think).
Tonight, while we make enough the sounds of merriment (being too poor to afford actual merriment) our fleet is returning to port, finally freeing us from the Marquis's debt. Presumably we'll get some real merriment for the occasion.
The Marquis, being the good sport that he is, decided to bring the ill tidings himself. Apparently the fleet 'sunk' in a storm, after 'shooting themselves' with cannonballs and 'chucking the gold' overboard.
Coincidentally, the debt is due, and the Marquis is forced to sell us all into slavery. If it were up to him he'd rather not enslave us, but the law is the law, so what can he do?
That dashing rapscallion is me. I decided that being a slave was not the career path that I had chosen for myself, and resolved to escape in a heroic manner as possible. After lamely slapping the guard holding me, I immediately dashed for the door and run out to the street, to duck behind a nearby house to watch my family be taken away.
The Marquis, having made his fortune after escaping from slavery in a similar case, decides not to chase me. Or even look behind himself when he's loading my family into the slavery wagon, despite me hiding five feet away in plain sight.
Ten years later, having grown to my full measure (and with the latest advances in video quality), I decided to stop bumming around Europe and start acquiring a vast fortune in the New World (which still has that new world smell).
Oh, and my family was being held in the Caribbean or something. I was too enthralled by the thoughts of the huge piles of money I'll plunder to care that much.
The creepy old barkeep said that I could sign up for passages at his bar. Frankly I think that he was just looking to swindle me out of some money, especially after he pointed out the captains who actually wanted some men.
In true European fashion, the captains all sit at separate tables, certain that their nation is the greatest (and not wanting to catch the Spanish/Dutch/English/French pox). I also learned that the Spanish/Dutch/English/French pox is the exact same thing. Go figure.