Dorian Lasseter

How far back do ya wish ta go? Pre-Dog? Some of my enemies were the officers I served under...

Here, here! Tales of bygone years, friends, and enemies....

Wardroom of the Lucy Monsieur Durand continued to trace finger and eyes across each page of the ledger. Turning a page he stopped and made a noise of disgust. Almost half of the following page was covered in ink, long since dried. “Capitaine Lasseter… what do you make of thiz?” Dorian leaned in and looked at what was in question. He even went as far as taking up the ledger and tilting it near the lamp light to see if he could make out any of the writing that might have been covered over. With a shrug he laid the tome back in front of Durand. “I cannot make out any writing… Looks ta be some carelessness by a previous cap’n. As you see, th’ previous page reflects some five months previous, before the ship came into my possession…” Durand gave a piercing look at Captain Lasseter for an overly long time, he silently turned back to the task at hand as if nothing had happened, yet his mouth ticked in agitation twice. Dorian had sent his ‘Steward’ forward to the galley for tea, yet he wished for a stronger drink as this document interrogation was beginning to wear on him. He maintained an attitude of disinterest, which only furthered his wont for more spirits. He let his mind wander a moment to those crew ashore imbibing at this early hour, wondering if he would have to employ more barrowmen to haul them out of the taverns and pour them onto the ship. He also wondered when other purchases for the Lucy would make their way to her decks. A new bell, sternboard, and furniture to replace the mismatched and worn set here in the Wardroom. His attention was brought back to the present when Durand cleared his throat, yet said nothing for the clearing.

Pudding? Looks more like spongecake... Ya! Come bek to my house fer zom coffee undt Spungecake!!!

The Wardroom of the Lucy Dorian nodded to Miss Ashcombe, acting as Steward. He looked at Miss McDonough as she rose from her seat and wondered at the name she used to address Jenny. With all of them in the wardroom, the air was fast becoming heavy. “Monsieur, a glass of wine?” Durand narrowed his eyes, but before he could speak Dorian continued. “Brandy? Whiskey? Something afore ye settle to your task?” Again Durand fixed the Captain with a look. “The ledger…” “Very well, Monsieur… For your perusal…” Dorian motioned to the table, upon which lay the new ledger he had been working on the evening before. Durand was directed to the chair behind the table, which he sat in heavily. Opening the tome, he ignored those around him. Dorian looked at William, then Murin and Jenny. He gave them all a look that said there was nothing to worry about. Durand turned the pages slowly, then shut the ledger and a hissing sigh escaped him. “This ledger is new… where is the old one? The one that came to port with this ship?” Dorian put a hand to his forehead and a corner of his mouth turned up for a moment. “My apologies… You were unexpected… it is here…” He walked over to the cabinet and withdrew the ledger for the Heron, the outer cover tattered and worn. He turned and placed the tome on top of the new one and made a hand gesture to the effect of ‘as you wish’. Monsieur Durand was enough of a gentleman to murmur a ‘Merci’ before he opened the ledger and began to read its contents.

Dorian bowed his head just the slightest. “Very well… tight quarters aft, but I suspect you’ve known such…” He turned and walked at a slow pace aft towards the door to the wardroom. He noted Mister Pew and the men standing by silently. He winked at his QuarterMaster as he passed by.

Aye, Et tu would gladly have a drink yer buyin' fer Et Tu....

Line 'em up then!!! The drinks.... not yer crew....

“Monsieur Durand… Welcome aboard…” Dorian turned to Miss McDonough and in an easy tone spoke. “Miss McDonough, be so kind as to inform my Steward in the ward room that we have a guest aboard… “ His look told her more than he said. She bobbed and saluted him and headed aft. Dorian turned back to Monsieur Durand, whose eyes moved skyward and ran over all the rigging and across the deck, as a seasoned sailor would. This brought a touch of a smile to the Captain’s face, the man had inadvertently given something away. When he did this Dorian noticed something about the man as well… his right eye was not an eye at all, but a glass replacement. “I would invite you into th’ ward room, however you’ll be hard pressed to stay upright, tis a low overhead. I’ll bring th’ ledger out into this fine daylight for your wont.” Dorian inclined his head politely, waiting for Durand to respond.

As Dorian watched the exchange between William and the ill boding messenger, he looked at the papers held by William again. The weight of the wax seals bent the parchment heavily. It had been not even a day since the Lieutenant had visited last and the list of signatures was not something so easily gotten in one night. Either the young lieutenant was the son of the governor, or he had other weighty connections and called in a favour. He took a moment and looked toward the Fort and would not have been surprized to see a company of marines on there way to the wharf. None but the usual smattering were assembled, so he turned his attention back to his ship. Dorian thought on both ships, their recent cargoes, and compliment of crew. He had copied everything into the ledgers and knew them probably better than Captain Brand, if by name only. Of the cargo and other supplies, all were gotten either by fair trade or by way of their prize. Unless some of the crew dealt their own deals in the black market, as they existed in every port he knew of, all was in order. Still great care had to be taken as he had seen fair play turned foul because someone in power bent the laws with their own will. Dorian looked at the messenger again. He appeared a man of the last age, when the americas were in conquest and contention and the spanish drew the line. He wondered why this man was chosen to be the messenger. Maybe it was his command of the english language he posessed. Maybe it was his calm, yet powerful bearing. Dorian was curious to know. He stepped back and directed Mister Styles to the side. "If it is you intention to come aboard, I grant that permission... Welcome aboard the Lucy, Monsieur...?" Captain Lasseter half blocked the gangway in mid gesture, waiting for the man to properly introduce himself.

He figured he might as well get it over with, let them finish their friendly mockery. “Should ‘ave th’ new bell comin’ shortly as well, along wi’ the stern board… Tho sadly, tis not gilded, just matchin’ colours…” William just nodded and Preston smirked, slightly coughed then spoke. “Ow ‘bout th’ figure’ead, I hear say tis a grande masterpiece…” Dorian cut him off before he began to make another jab. “Just ye wait n’ see, just ye wait n’ see, Quarter Master… Our carpenter did a fine job indeed. I visited her last night, I expect many drinks ta be bought fer Mister Wenge fer his diligence. Many… drinks…” The new Quarter Master of the Lucy and Captain of the Watch Dog again shared a smile. “Well… lets hope I can get the men back aboard soon enough, afore they celebrate ‘emselves inta a stupor…”

Dorian barely shook his head at the officers mocking him. He placed the plate back in the crate and shot them a look. He tried to hold the look of being offended, but could not. “A fine ship, armed wi’ fine guns… what’s a couple embellishments? The men’ll ‘ave more pride an’ do wot they can ta keep ‘er in one piece in a battle…” He dared them to challenge his thoughts.

Aboard the Lucy Dorian nodded at William, wishing the same. He still scanned the crowds on shore for a time, then turned towards the gangway as a man with a barrow approached it. “Ah, a delivery…” The Captain of the Cutter walked to the gangway and as he did so deposited his flask in his pocket and drew fourth a coin in one easy movement. Crossing to shore he spoke briefly with the man and directed his aboard. The barrowman hefted a small crate from his barrow and carried it aboard, placing it near the main grating. As he walked back across Dorian shook his hand and deposited the coin within. A nod and bow, the barrow taken up and he was away. Dorian walked slowly aboard and over to the crate, a smile peeking on his face. William gave him the mildest of curious looks and Preston came closer as well. “Somethin’ ta pretty up th’ guns… not that they need it…” He reached down and opened the crate. Inside lay several brass rectangle plates. He lifted out one and held it out for all to see. Inscribed across it was “Diecolus”. Brows were knitted and the mildly curious looks became deeper. “Number seven Gun…”

Aboard the Lucy After the look shared between William and Dorian, the Captain of the Lucy was handed his flask, he took a final nip and shut the top. He kept it in his hand as he crossed them behind is back, nodded to those within his proximity and stepped to the rail next to the wharf. He scanned the crowd there, watching many still heading to the taverns. The ex-slave, Ajayi, stood out in a crowd and was nowhere to be seen. The other men that William mentioned, Wellings and Scymmelpenninck, were not well known to Dorian, so looking for them in the crowd did little good. He noticed that Captain Brand had joined him in looking towards the wharf. “Wellings… new man… an’ Scymmelpenninck… not as new, but still green to us… think they found trouble ashore?”

Dorian looked at Preston and gave him a wink, “Mebee we know th’ same gerl…” This comment brought fourth some laughter, and when it died some, the Captain gave a better explanation. “I chose Lucy as a feminine form o’ Lucifer… now afore ye get all affronted, Lucifer means light-bearer, ‘ccordin’ ta th’ latin, or it be a term fer the ‘Mornin’ Star, Venus… With all th’ shiny new brass guns an’ all, seemed appropriate…” William, Preston, and Murin had contemplative looks on their faces at Dorian’s explanation, to which the Captain of the Cutter smiled and pulled a flask from his pocket and offered it to those assembled.

Dorian took the letter and opened it, read the contents three times over. His brow creased and he looked to Captain Brand, whom had commented hoping it was not bad news. “Well William, I would not call it bad news…. Intriguing… Would be a word ta use… it puts me at a loss as well…” He folded the letter and creased it along those folds several times as he thought. Dorian finally looked and saw the young boy still waiting. He fished a coin out on his pocket and handed it to the lad, thanking him for the delivery. Still the boy lingered. He finally found his voice and said he was to wait for a reply. Dorian again looked at William, then handed the letter to him. “I cannot make this call, as you have th’ burden of full command ‘ere… I’ll stand by yer decision on this matter.” Captain Brand creased his forehead as he looked at the boy and back to Dorian, who had taken on a slightly formal stance. He slowly opened the letter to see what this was all about.

Dorian stood on the wharf beside the Heron and waited until all the crews of the Watch Dog and Heron were assembled. Once all who were able to attend were present, and Captain Brand was satisfied as well, he nodded to say to the captain of the Cutter that he might begin what it was he was to do. Almost everyone there was in the dark as to what was to proceed. Dorian walked over to the gangway and stepped aboard. Just inside the rail he picked up two bottles full of spirits, one larger than the other. Coming back to shore, he stepped aft several paces and set the larger bottle on the ground. Turning his back to the crowd, he held his arms aloft and spoke in a loud, yet humbled voice. "In the name of all who have sailed aboard this ship in the past, an’ in th’ name o’ all who may sail aboard ‘er in the future, we invoke the ancient gods o’ th’ wind an’ th’ sea ta favor us with their blessing today. Mighty Neptune, king of all tha’ moves in or on th’ waves; and mighty Aeolus, guardian of the winds an’ all tha’ blows before them. We offer you our thanks for th’ protection you have afforded this vessel in th’ past. We voice our gratitude tha’ she ‘as always found shelter from tempest and storm an’ enjoyed safe passage ta port. Now, wherefore, we submit this supplication, that th’ name whereby this vessel has hitherto been known ‘Heron’, be struck and removed from your records. Further, we ask tha’ when she is again presented fer blessing with another name, she shall be recognized and shall be accorded once again the self same privileges she previously enjoyed. In return fer which, we rededicate this vessel to your domain in full knowledge that she shall be subject as always to the immutable laws o’ th’ gods o’ th’ wind an’ th’ sea. In consequence whereof, an’ in goode faith, we seal this pact with a libation offered according to the hallowed ritual of the sea." Captain Lasseter then took the bottle he held and uncorked it, turned it bottom up and emptied the contents with great ceremony into the water. Once empty he recorked it and set it beside him. He then picked up the other, larger bottle and walked towards the bow. All in attendance followed him. He turned to the assembled group and smiled. "I name this ship ‘Lucy’, and may she bring fair winds an’ goode fortune to all who sail on ‘er." Turning away from the crowd he took the bottle by the neck and smashed onto the bow. Most all there cheered heartily. Some however, did not believe that the gods would be appeased by the ritual. Believed that renaming any ship was bad luck. They gravitated into a small group and spoke among themselves. Both captains knew there would be those who opposed the notion of what had just been done and exchanged glances between themselves and some of the others who knew ahead of time what this was all about. Dorian had sailed on two ships in the past that had been renamed without issue, not including the Watch Dog, who had once bore the name of ‘Nubian Trader’ in her former life as a blackbirder. Yes, there had been some rough beginnings on the Frigate, but her luck thus far outweighed any tragedies that had occurred. Dorian again turned to the assembled crowd and spoke. “Not only does she bare a new name, but she will also bare a proper figurehead. Mister Wenge was tasked with the chore of creating said figurehead, which shall be mounted this day.” Dorian sought out the Carpenter in the crowd. When he found him, the Captain clapped a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “I leave it to you ta deliver and mount the lady… at yer leisure…”

The Public Wharf Jameson and O’Hara had helped to tie up the Heron to the wharf, along with many others who were on shore leave and stood back now, watching as everyone aboard came ashore. Everyone milled about for a short time and found themselves in groups of familiar faces. Even ashore the men gathered in their watches, fore and aft, starboard and larboard. Friendly faces were all around, the whole of the crew of the Heron, and most of the larboard crew of the Watch Dog. Andrew Smyth pointed out that the Frigate was weighing anchor and spreading topsails, possibly coming in close as she could to ferry over the crew aboard. Small talk got louder and louder as everyone in their groups stood about waiting for what was to come, watching as the workers on shore went about their activities. Even at this early hour bottles of spirits appeared and were passed around, creating quite the festive atmosphere. Dorian watched and smiled just a little at the men as he heard snippets of their conversations, hearing all kinds of speculation as to why they were assembled this morning. Young Geoffery Wayne came forward and asked him directly what was to happen, to which the Captain only replied, “You’ll see lad… you’ll see…”

Hmm... Looks grande... Beware of the OFM tho...

Tired Sick of it Disgusted A drink would be great, but I'll not drown the issues in there, it's only temporary.

At first light, the Captain of the Cutter rose and had his officers rouse the crew. They began the task of putting the ship to the wharf, which first was done by sail in the light morning breeze, then as they came close the Jollywatt was manned and she was warped right up against the wharf itself. Some crew had been waiting on the wharf and Dorian was glad that his words of the previous evening had been passed along. Those ashore and those aboard worked together securing the vessel to the moorings. Once fully secured everyone filed off of the ship who were going ashore. The Captain walked the length of her and back, noting the deck empty of the name ‘Heron’ . Even the ships bell had been removed by Mister Tucker as he headed ashore, much to the curiosity of the onlookers. Satisfied, even though one or two were still aboard, he headed below and retrieved two bottles and set them by the rail near the gangway. Straightening up he stood tall and walked across the boards and onto the wharf. There he would wait until those from the Watch Dog came ashore. Once Captain Brand was there and both men were satisfied, and only then would he proceed with the ceremony.

The Bay of Fort Royal Soon the two ships under Captain Brand would be leaving the port of Fort Royal and still several things had not been accomplished. One of which was about to be remedied this morning. The night before, Captain Lasseter had passed the word that every crewmember was to be present on the wharf, barring a small number to be left onboard the Frigate for safety. During the night, unbeknownst to the crew, he had the stern board with the Cutters’ name on it removed, along with all else that bore the name ‘Heron’, much of which was to be sold off if possible. He had spent time during the past several days commissioning replacements with a new name inscribed, these items would be put aboard in due time.

At the wharf The young boy carried the letter to through the streets down to the wharf and asked of Captain Lasseter of the Ship, Heron. Several of the dock workers merely shoed the boy out of harm’s way. One fellow called the boy over and asked him what he wanted of the captain of the Heron. “I have a letter of import to give him, and am to wait for a response.” The man gave him a weary look. “I believe he’s back aboard, and no likely to return this evenin’. I could run you out to the ship, but it’ll cost you.” The boy touched the coins in his pocket and frowned. He was not about to forfeit his earnings to deliver the letter via this boatman. He backed away and found a spot against a building, trying to decide what he might do. He paced some and almost ran into a reasonably well dressed man, whom he recognized as the dock master. The boy asked him of The Captain and the Heron, to which the man told the boy that the Heron would be brought to the wharf by morning. This made the lad happy, yet also slightly agitated, as he would have to wait until then to deliver the letter and hopefully collect more money to return another letter to the woman at the surgeon’s place.

William is fine, last I heard... Just having some 'net issues' at home, soon to be remedied... You folks had way too much fun without me....

WHAT?!?!?!? How'd that happen?