Dorian Lasseter

Aye Lass, Th' ship is in need o' careenin'.... Afore we sat sail to points unknown, we needs ta make sure all is proper below th' waterline... the well need ta be pumped dry e'ery other day... now tha' may seem fine, but we's in port, under no strain... So we need ta do as ye say, muckin' about wi' block n' tackle n' other truck, Th Carpenter will make reperations an' fix wot ails 'r bottom... Once we get 'er set, won't take more'n one,two shifts o' th' tide ta make 'er bristol fashion... Aye, she'll be heaved o'er, on one side then t'other... ye've no worries as long as ye either 'ave yer necessities battened down or put on th' pier, along with all else, under guard... I expect we be settin' ta warp 'er o'er ta th' cove once we return from our sup o'er at th' Kate....

:: looks down from deck, at the top of the gangway :: Aye Ms. Constance, yer gear be stowed aboard? Make it secure as we'll soon be warpin' th' ship away from th' pier, ta be careened... M. Diego has returned an' we's goin' ta th' Kate fer a meal, then we be assembelin' th' crew fer th' warpin' out.... See to it tha' ye gets yer work detail from Rummy, th' Carpenter.... She be in charge o' th' necesaries o' careenin'...

AYe, I agree.... some are long o'er due from shore-leave.... :: with a nod :: A trip ta th' Kate sounds a fine plan.... Ms. Fitzgerald? Mr. Wake? Might ye join us?

"Boarders Away!"

:: raises eyebrow, noting the seriousness of Diego :: I's well, Lad...... quite well.... A might pressed wi' all th' labors involved wi' fittin' out 'r ship 'ere.... Glad ta hear all yer plannin's be workin' out... As few where th' Cap'n an' 'r First Mate be...... I know not... I 'ad assumed they was workin' out some plannin' in one o' th' fine establishments shoreside... :: stops and narrows eyes :: Has there been some evil afoot? Was ye ta meet up wi' th' Cap'n 'r First mate...?

Welcome aboard Mr. Tito... I be the Quartermaster, Dorian Lasseter.... Ye be reportin' ta Mr. Petee, as Diego says... :: Nods to Diego :: Glad ta 'ave ye back right proper Lad... Aye, I's had th' Master 't Arms an' some o' th' crew build a fortification o'er in yon cove where we fix ta careen.... best ta be prepaired as 'r ship will be incapable o' defendin' 'erse'f durin' th' process.... Master Wake 'as outdone hisse'f I believe... Nay, I've yet ta have speaks wi' Mr. Hand... Lessee iffn' we c'n find th' Master Gunner as well, 'e picked the cannon ta arm th' shore... Now soon as I 'ave word from th' Carpenter an' er mates, we will warp th' ship o'er ta th' cove.... :: Steps over to Ms. Fitzgerald :: Beggin' yer pardon, I had ta appraise m'se'f o' th' new lad, an' let M. Diego know where we be... Aye, a fyne drink later sounds a right plan.... th' coolness o' the eve shall prove fruitful....

Press Gang

Oh Tempest, no apologies needed... Aye, forgiven... Mayhaps a set o' blunted swords need be procured... then on'y a bruise would be caused iffn' ye get caught up... :: Takes offered glass with a smile :: I see.... Armand, my compliments ta ye fer puttin' yerse'f in harms way... And my compliments to yer Fa'her... a master no doubt.... :: turns to see William still watching :: William! Does ye spar as well? Mayhaps tha's a bad idea... bein as yer th' Master 't Arms.....

:: as she lunges, he quickly sidesteps diagonally forward, drops his main gauche, turns and grabs hold of her wrist... :: Had tha' made contact, t'would a hurt.... ye'd a been stitchin' me up... :: with a grin, he releases her wrist and steps back ::

Aye... th' cutlass serves ship board well enough.... Well done ye says... Aye... might I say th' same fer yer skill... :: advances with an open midguard, leaving his left shoulder exposed.... He delivers an overhand thrust to her midsection that she turns away easily, executes a counter attack to his open shoulder. With lightening speed, he changes from mid to highguard, engaging her blade with his main gauche, driving it far off point, then swiftly disengaging with a half step backwards :: Hmmm.....

:: as she attacks, with a flick of his wrist, he parries with his main gauche, as she retreats, he relaxes his guard, awaiting the next attack :: Aye Lass, I's up fer this... mayhaps is 'as been a time since I used this blade... And ye be right, these be more fer a street fight th'n a boardin' action... We could switch ta cutlass'... tho they lack.... wot's tha' frenchy speak... Gen ess ay kwaa? No? They lack finesse, skill..... Prey, continue....

:: with a nod, he salutes with his sword... when she intones 'en garde' he drops slightly, knees bent, weight on the balls of his feet, no significant expression on his face, both sword and dagger pointed directly at his opponent... Left arm extended with main gauche, right arm still held with the hand near his waist, his whole pose as if he awaits...::

Aye Lassey.... Swashbuckler 'tis.....

:: finishes warming up... :: A'right Lass.... ye done readin' yerse'f? Care ta pick where ye wish ta begin? :: breathes in deeply, exhales..... as he does he finds himself standing left foot forward, toe pointed straight, right foot back pointed to the side, arms loose, hands waist level ::

Thankee William.... :: takes papinhiemer hilted rapier, draws it from its scabbard, notes balance keenness of edge :: William, ye sound as if a gauntlet 'as been thrown.... This be just an exorcize ta keep a sharpness o' skill... :: looks at main gauche, takes it from William :: Not m' usual choice fer this 'and... but a pistol would not do... :: paces back several steps, twirls rapier , twists wrists, arms shoulders, does some full body stretches ::

::a grin slowly traces itself across his face:: Why, as things 'r movin' along right nicely.... Tho I think yer skill would be challenged further iffn' ye stayed aboard.... On land ye donna get the feel fer shipbaord action.... :: tilts head to the side and ponders a moment :: Iffn' yer set on sparin' ashore, I believe I c'n spare a time... Master William, I'll be wantin' m' Rapier.... an' m' heavy cutlass out o' th' armory.... Thankee...

:: again watching the wordplay, stiffling a chuckle :: :: a look of innocence passes across his face, betrayed only by the devilish glint in his eyes :: Amusin'? Nay Lass..... not a thing 'ere.... *shrugs and turns his palms towards the sky, slowly shaking his head back and forth...*

:: unable to speak without betraying his amusement completely, he tips his hat in return ::

:: standing at the taffrail, trying not to but can't help listening in on the banter betwixt the Surgeon and the Master at Arms :: **clamps jaw, covers mouth with hand** "snicker.... snort.... Snicker..." *in a low tone* My iffn this keeps up, this'll be quite a journey....

Arabians or Mustangs

Right then.... "It's easy to get off a ship with no clothes on, but how do you get back on?" there ye be... Iffn' it be too 'ard, I'll hive 'ints...

Fishy,fishy... where did the fish....... go... Monty Pythons, Meaning of Life

Rod, An' how often do ye get ta 'play' at this fort? Betwixt tha' an' all th' ships there..? I'm livin' in th' wrong area.... not enough 18th C. stuff happenin' 'round here...

Wolfgang Amedeus Motzart (sp?)

Wolfman Jack...