Dorian Lasseter

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.

Where is Will? Haven't heard from him since PiP. Hope everything is alright.

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?

Shipwreck, Added you as a friend...

Lily, same...

Iron John, same...

Syren, always the helpful hand!!!

Aye,

Too bad we don't have a Pyracy Pub gang.... but no matter...

We can all help each other out just like we do on the pub here!

Aye...

I did read the help and newbie stuff...

Got some funs stuff ta play with already!

Aye!

Thankee kindly!

caught me by surprize it did!

ID # 98996

It's been kinda fun...

Shipwreck, what's yer name/ID?

I already had someone else want me to join their pyrate gang...

Dorian had looked up from his papers when he caught Miss Ashcombe coming around the side of the hung canvas. She stood a moment in awkward silence then bid him a good evening. Dorian smiled at her and wished her a good evening, hoping she might be able to find sleep again. She hesitated before heading back around the canvas, and he heard her sit on the cot and not move for a time. It then came to him what she might have asked but did not. He slid out his chair none too quietly and stretched.

“Miss Ashcombe? I apologize but I must check on the mornin’ plans. I’ll be on deck a short while. I’ll lock th’ door so as ye won’t be disturbed. I hope not ta wake ye upon my return.”

He waited a moment and heard her respond with a very quiet ‘Thank you Captain’, and he headed to the door, gently making his way out. Pulling the key from a pocket he secured the door and walked forward along the deck at a slow pace. Dorian walked along the guns, polished so nicely that they shone even in the darkness. He rounded the bow, greeting some of the crew still there and paced down the other side. At one point he stopped and looked at one of the guns, imagining how it would look in the following days. He broke from his imaginings and continued aft to the Holy Ground and nodded to Mister Tucker.

“Looks ta be a quiet evenin’… followed by a busy morn. I’m off ta bed now, see you a bit later.”

“Aye Cap’n, have no worries while ye sleep. All’s well an’ th’ coffee’s much better now that… well… now that we got Charlie an’ Tjaak in the galley.”

Captain Lasseter stifled a laugh and shook his head at the Bo’sun, and bid him a final goodnight. Arriving at the door to the Ward Room, he again fished out the key and did his best to unlock it quietly. He lifted up on the door as he opened it and it did not squeak this time. He entered and did the same to close the door, setting the latch carefully. The Candle was out on the other side of the canvas and he smiled. He quietly walked to the chair farthest from the cot and sat, pulled off his shoes, garters and stockings. These he lay on top of his sea chest. Standing he took off his coat and padded over to place it on a hook. Padding over, he unstowed his hammock and set it to rights, he retrieved his pistol from the table and carefully settled into the canvas. Fixing the small pillow just right he breathed out a long sigh and closed his eyes.

Ahhhhhhhh......

A cigar, snifter full o' brandy...

Black Nate, ya says ya got stories ta tell?

Well old man, go on...

I'll throw another long on th' fire... bit of a chill as o' late...

Aboard the Heron

Dorian was about to enter the Wardroom and his quarters as he normally would, but at the last minute remembered he had left the young woman, Miss Ashcombe, within. He paused a moment and gently knocked. No answer came, so he decided to carefully proceed. The door creaked slightly as it opened under slow pressure from his hand. The cabin was dimly lit by only the small oil lamp on his table, next to it was a plate of untouched fare. At first he wondered if she had taken her leave to elsewhere on the ship, but if that had been the case Mister Tucker surely would have informed him. As his eyes looked about the room, he saw the cot unoccupied, as well as the chairs in the space. Then he saw her on the stern bench, her head cradled on one arm as if she fell asleep looking out onto the bay. He smiled and chuckled quietly, turned and shut the door behind him, then began to make himself comfortable be removing his hat, sword, and pistol from his belt, the latter he laid on the table beside the lamp. Dorian thought it imprudent to remove his coat just yet, though this woman had seen him in just his shirtsleeves earlier, but that was a different situation. He did however lighten the coat by removing the small pistols from the pockets, along with the pouch of coins, though lighter, it still bore some weight. All of these he placed on the table as well. He watched the sleeping form for a moment longer before deciding what he might do with her. Coming to a decision, the Captain crossed the space to the stern bench.

“Miss Ashcombe? Miss?”

He spoke in low tones so as not to startle her. Her head came up slowly at first, then she pushed herself upright, almost bumping into the Captain as he had bent close to her to wake her. Dorian quickly righted himself as she turned to him, eyes wide. Smiling, he guessed she needed a moment to realize where she was.

“Yer a’right Miss Ashcombe, remember, yer on th Heron, safe from yer uncle I believe.”

She blinked slowly and let out a sigh of relief. She went to smooth out skirts that weren’t there, as she was still dressed as a sailor. She recovered quickly and looked up to the Captain and briefly smiled.

“Forgive me, Captain, I must have dozed off at some point in time. Have you just arrived from shore?”

“Aye… Just returned… I… The hour is late, I would think you might wish ta be abed properly. I apologize but there isn’t much for privacy onboard. Mayhaps I c’n have some canvas strung up. Aye, I’ll have that done.”

Again he smiled at her and bowed his head before turning to the door and passing the word for the Bo’sun. Mister Tucker was there quickly and Dorian spoke to him through a partially opened door. He would have two crewmen pull canvas from below for the job asked. Dorian shut the door again and crossed to the sideboard and selected a bottle and gestured to the Lass if she would like something. She shook her head and he nodded, selected a vessel and poured a short drink. He walked to his table and turned up the lamp, brightening the room.

“Gonna need more light fer the canvas ta be strung up.”

Dorian took a drink from his glass and set it on the table, opened the drawer and withdrew a rolled taper. Stringing some out, he lit it off the oil lamp and proceeded to light the two hanging candles in the cabin, improving the brightness further. He blew out the taper and coiled it back around itself and crossed back to the table replacing it within. A knock on the door had him headed that way and he let in the two men with a canvas bundle. In short order there was a curtain of canvas dividing off a section of the wardroom around her cot. With the knuckling of forelocks those crew departed and peace returned to the space.

“You may retire at yer leisure, Miss Ashcombe. I have some papers ta look over and will soon retire as well… T’morrow’s a special day.”

The bottle was passed around one last time and it was done. Soon the victuals and tea were consumed and all that was left was crumbs and sediment dregs. Dorian had told the others of the exquisite work Mister Wenge and Roberts had done on the figurehead destined to grace the bow of his ship.

“She is a thing of beauty and will do handsomely on the bow. If I am to have everythin’ prepared for the morn, I should be going. I have a ship t’ be brought t’ th’ wharf an’ all the crews t’ be informed of a special event… “

His eyes danced with gleeful mischief as he looked around at everyone. He bid his farewell to the Carpenter and newly appointed QuarterMaster. Thanked Miss Kildare for the grand hospitality and made his way out into the night. He stopped at several of the tavern where he knew his men frequented and passed the word of the event to take place in the morning. This message would be passed around to any others met. This accomplished, Dorian found his way to the wharf and the Heron’s Jollywatt. He was still accompanied by Kevin Norman. First they headed to the Watch Dog and hailed the deck. Dorian boarded and informed those on the holy ground of the morning event. That accomplished he departed for the Heron. In short order they were boarding his ship at the late hour. He spoke with the Bo’sun about having the Heron warped into the wharf at first light. And had Mister Norman sent to the crews berth. This being understood, he headed to his quarters.

Aye, I'll sit an' enjoy a pipe by th' fire... an' a brandy would be grande as well... Tho, brandy's better wi' a cigar...

AH, wonderful...

I've over indulged... an excellent night...

And I'll take a fine ale for one o' his coins...

Thankee...