Dorian Lasseter

Captain Lasseter studied Miss Ashcombe a moment after she thanked him. He nodded slowly.

“Yer quite welcome… looks like you were either hit wi’ a sweep, or musket… Shouldn’t take too long ta heal then.”

Again he unhooked his pistol from his belt and lay it on the table. Running his fingers through his hair as he walked the length of the room, he looked out the stern windows across the bay and wondered how soon the Lieutenant would return. He saw some gathering of men at the wharf, a glint of sunlight off something shiny amongst them. Turning back to the young woman he smiled as it seemed she watched his every move. He walked back to where she sat and pulled his chair over and sat as well.

“Miss Ashcombe, I need some questions answered as ye may well know… Ya say Miss McDonough was escortin’ ye… Yet she ain’t here… and, she does not have the authority ta be sendin’ people off one ship an’ on to another, on’y the officer o’ th’ deck does. I know ya don’t understand th’ protocols aboard ships, but…”

He was unsure how to proceed, and left his unfinished sentence hang there, hoping she might fill in the blanks.

Now, vanilla wafers with peanutbutter...

aye, salty/spicy followed by sweet...

Still drinkin' Iced Tea...

Homestyle Pretzels (Snyders of Hanover) with spicy brown mustard.

Iced tea to wash it down...

Aboard the Heron

William allowed a pause for her to answer, but then took it back all at once.  "Captain, I leave you to your patient.  I must go and secure some safeguards for her protection."  He left the room and his departure was abrupt.

At William’s swift departure, an annoyed look crossed Dorian’s face. He held up a finger as if to say, ‘Wait here’, and exited as swiftly. He caught up with William just before he reached the waist.

“Cap’n Brand, a word…”

Dorian had never addressed William in such an abrupt manner. William stopped and faced the Captain of the Heron with a nonplused look on his face.

“Leave wot must be done with the Leftenant to me. I have th’ proper documents, and am not worried, even if ‘e brings ‘is superior. Ready th’ ‘Dog fer yer guests, put it out o’ yer mind.”

Captain Brand stood a moment and took a slow breath in. He knew Dorian was a capable man, and could handle the situation. He gave a brief smile.

“I know you can handle this situation. Just one more thing piled on top of so many others.”

He was going to say more, but Dorian put a hand on his shoulder.

“William… See ta yer ship and crew… I’ll see ta mine and we’ll dine richer men this evenin’… “

William chuckled and Dorian did as well. He nodded and headed over the side into the Samson, where he was ferried over to the Frigate. Dorian watched him go and waited til he had gained the deck before moving. First he spoke with Mister Tucker, had the Heron’s jollywatt kept at the ready. All the men were still at general quarters, and were to remain that way until further notice as he knew just as William had said that Lieutenant Turcotte would be back and with a vengeance. He walked around the deck and found the new men brought aboard. He addressed each separately and told them to go stow their gear in the galley for the moment. Once they all had done so, one parcel was left on deck. It could only belong to one person, Miss Ashcombe, so Dorian picked it up and took it with him to the Ward Room, informing the Bo’sun to alert him when, not if, but when a boat departed again from the Fort. The Captain entered the Wardroom and shut the door behind him. Miss Ashcombe sat as she was left and looked at him with a calmness on her face. He held fourth the parcel.

“I believe this’ yers, Miss?”

Aye...

Smokey...

smooth, but still retains a bite...

Slainte!

Captain Lasseter nodded to Miss Ashcombe as he took back the glass.

“Yer welcome, hope it calms you some…”

As William took a moment to speak with Luc, Dorian poured another dram of whiskey, slowly drank it and set both vessels on the table. He regarded the young woman sitting there, watched as she touched the bandage about her head and softened his expression, hoping to ease the discomfort she must be feeling. But questions needed to be answered.

“Miss Ashcombe… I wish there was more time ta let yer injury calm itself, however, we have questions of you… Firstly, why did ye come over ta th’ Heron? Fer what purpose? “

He almost felt bad asking such direct questions, given her state. He needed to know as much as possible, as quickly as possible, not knowing if they would have another visit by the lieutenant or another officer of the garrison. She looked to be collecting her thoughts and as she did his mind wandered to other things needing to be addressed such as the new recruits in his charge. All Dorian wanted this day was to welcome aboard the new men and go ashore to see how Preston was mending. He feared it would not come to pass until the next day.

Havin' a dram of some 12 year old single malt scotch...

Been a long time, my friend...

Ahhhh.... a fine selection...

Wonderful food....

And for dessert?

Over the side of the Heron

Captains Brand and Lasseter, along with their men, had watched the soldiers row away in silence. Dorian clicked his tongue.

“Ya think that’s th’ last we’ll be seein’ o’ him?”

William cocked his head and creased his brow.

“I think not. I think he’ll be back with either papers, or his superior in person.”

All Dorian could do was nod and chuckle. He was about to make another comment when a scream was heard from within the Heron. As a point of fact, It was two feminine screams, not overly loud, but loud enough that everyone in the proximity heard.

“Either Miss Ashcombe has come to, or we have deeper problems.”

Dorian turned and headed to the ladderway and pulled himself aboard his ship, not wondering if William or any others were in tow. As he crossed the deck aft, Miss Moore came out the door, the Pooka scattering out with her. As Dorian approached, she closed the gap even quicker.

“Captain, she’s awake… Frightened and delirious I think. I told her I was getting more water for her wounds, but – “

Dorian cut her off,

“Then do so Miss Moore, and quickly… Mister Tucker! You have th’ deck!”

Letting the young woman pass, he quickened his pace aft and into the Wardroom. He entered and saw Miss Ashcombe sitting upright on the cot. She was looking better, and looked at him there at the door. Standing a moment longer, Dorian was deciding what to do. He crossed the room slowly, placed his pistol on the table and was about to address her when Miss Moore returned. Nodding to her, she went over and continued administering to Miss Ashcombe. The Captain watched from where he stood a moment longer, then pulled his chair out and sat. It was then that he noticed William had indeed followed him onto the Heron, as he stood in the doorway to the Ward Room. Dorian waved him in and William came over to where sat. The Irishman rose and turned away from where the women were, and quietly addressed his superior.

“I have yet ta ascertain how she is, besides awake. Soon as Miss Moore finishes, I hope Miss Ashcombe can answer some questions. This might help…”

Dorian stepped a pace over and opened the cabinet, withdrew a bottle and glass.

Hmmm...

Tis friday... Fish? Shrimp? Crabs? Lobster?

Dorian had stood and let William do the talking and watched the French marines do what was ordered. The dead man was searched again, not much more was found out. They all stood, bobbing in the small boats and looked at each other, the Heron, the dead man and nothing in particular. Lieutenant Turcotte seemed to be deciding his next action.

“Capitaine… Lasseter… who, exactly was shot at?”

Dorian looked at the Lieutenant a moment, knowing the man was trying to catch them in a possible lie or cover up.

“Leftenant, I know not who the man there was trying to shoot, however, he came close to shooting this man, who will tell you as much.”

He pointed to Luc who stood tall and saluted. He spoke in his thick Russian accent.

“Luc Otkupschikov, at your service.”

Turcotte blinked his eyes as Luc spoke and balled his hands up for a moment before placing them behind his back.

“Monsieur… Otkup, Otkupschikov…. Parlez vous Francais?”

“Nyet, ah, no ser, I speak English and Russian…”

The lieutenant looked agitated even more, but kept his civility. He took his time and again asked what was known of the attack. Luc explained what happened from his point of view, coming across from the Frigate to the Cutter and being the first to head up the side, but was cut sort by the shot. He told of the chaos in the small boat and took a cue from Captain Lasseter and left out the injury caused to the young woman. As a point of fact, he omitted her all together. The Lieutenant nodded as Luc spoke, occasionally with a pinched look on his face as his accent distorted some of his English. When Luc finished with the retrieval of the body the officer bowed his head to the big Russian.

“Merci monsieur… Capitaine Lasseter? This is your ship?”

“Aye leftenant, it is…”

“I wish to board your ship, see for myself.”

Dorian looked at William, who in turn looked at the lieutenant and back to Dorian.

“Leftenant Turcotte… Yer commander sent ya out ta find out what’s happened here… you have. As fer boardin’ m’ship… Have you a writ affordin’ you th’ privilege?”

The French officer narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

“Then I must decline your request… If you wish to get said papers, I would be delighted ta show you about my fine vessel.”

Dorian smiled and bowed to the man, who, even though he had been outdone, bowed back.

“Very well monsieurs, ah, capitains… I will report my findings to my superiors, along with this man.”

He pointed to the corpse and his men unlashed the boat from those of the Heron and Watch Dog, attaching it to their own. Neither Captains protested as this was done, and soon they were watching as the marines towed the small boat turned funeral barge to the wharf under the shadow of Fort Royal

More pie please....

Dorian only had a moment to wonder why Miss Ashcombe was sent over from the Frigate to his Cutter. Still holding dead man’s musket he saw the boat full of French marines on approach as William muttered an oath.

“Aye, let th’ show begin, got nothin’ ta hide here…”

Dorian stood in the boat along with William and smiled as the french marines bent their backs pulling towards them. In the bow stood a man, the silver braid on his uniform made him to be a Lieutenant. As the boat closed with them, Captain Lasseter noticed that the lieutenant appeared rather young. The soldiers behind him looked to be much older, twice the officer’s age even.

“Th’ Leftenant’s a young pup… Lets hope he’s got nothin’ ta prove.”

William just nodded and watched as the boat skimmed up and turned, men grabbing onto the sides of the other boat and the lieutenant touched the edge of his hat.

“Je suis Lieutenant Turcotte de la garnison, qui sont vous et vous vous inquiéteriez pour expliquer tout ceci ?”

At William’s question Dorian’s breath slowly hissed out of his nose.

“I wish I knew, Will… New men were comin’ over from th’ ‘Dog ta th’ Heron, I was b’low an’ all hell broke loose. Mister Tucker had th’ deck, all he says is we were fired upon and the crew rightly defended th’ ship.”

He looked at the body and shook his head. Dorian spoke to the man, as if he could hear him.

“You’ve caused us a lot of trouble, Monsieur… A whole lot of trouble…”

Dorian looked around at the others in the boats around them and spotted Luc.

“Luc, you were in th’ boat, what happened there?”

Luc explained what happened, that as he was about to board the shot splintered the hull right infront of him, after that, it was every man for themselves. Dorian looked back to William.

“By the way, when did Miss Ashcombe come aboard? And why was she sent over to the Heron? She was injured in the chaos, Miss Moore is attendin’ to ‘er presently in the ward room.”

Aboard the Heron

Captain Lasseter had watched through the glass as things transpired on the bay. Mister Tucker had done as ordered and was back at Dorian’s side.

“Mister Tucker, run up the French colours and be quick about it.”

“Aye, Sah!”

In short order the large flag was waving in the breeze above them all. Dorian looked about the bay and the ramparts of the fort, now dotted with soldiers. He clenched his teeth and slowly shook his head.

“Th’ Devil ta pay…”

“Sah?”

“Nothin’ Mister Tucker…”

“Ah, aye, Sah…”

Dorian heard the distinct voice of Captain Brand shouting orders and turned his glass towards his voice. There he was in a boat with several men. Men he did not recognize.

“Them new recruits must be thinking they’s got themselves itna somethin’ no good. We’ll see how it’ll turn out. Mister Tucker, who was injured?”

The Bo’sun held up a finger and dashed off to the waist to garner the information requested by the Captain. He soon returned and knuckled his brow.

“Cap’n, the injured crewman, er, well, is a woman.”

Dorian snapped his neck around to look at the Bo’sun. His brow creased as he did not remember a woman being on the list of new recruits for the Heron. Thrusting the glass into the Bo’sun’s hands the Captain turned.

“Keep a watch on the situation out there, I’ll be back.”

This new information was not making things any better. Dorian headed to the waist where a crowd of familiar and unfamiliar faces gathered around a prone figure. Those that knew him stood back and saluted, the others who were new saw this and reacted the same. The Captain knelt down and looked at the person laying there, dressed in sailor’s rig, bloodied and unconscious. Yes, it was a woman, her hair now matted with blood and half over her face.

“Someone fetch water an’ a clean rag, now.”

Several of the men hustled off and soon a pail and cloth were presented. Dorian wet the cloth and wiped away some of the blood, loosening her hair from her face. A moment later her identity came to him. He mouthed her name and was stunned for an instant.

“You there, and you, gently take this woman to the ward room and lay her on the cot within. Find Miss Moore and have her attend to her wounds.”

The men knuckled their forelocks and did as ordered, others went to find Miss Moore as Dorian stood waiting for them to return. Soon all were back on deck and looking to the Captain for orders. Standing before them in his shirtsleeves, cutlass in hand, he was quite a sight. Taking a breath to calm his voice he addressed the crew.

“For those of you just arrived, I am Captain Dorian Lasseter. Whatever it is that has happened here is most irregular. Bare that in mind for the moment and when this is all sorted out, we’ll have proper introductions. At the moment just do as yer told and all will be righted. Am I understood?”

“Aye-Aye, Sah!”

“Excellent… General quarters if you please! Find a place to stand and be at the ready if you don’t have an assigned area!”

The men scrambled to their positions and once found all was still. Dorian nodded once and slowly made his way back to the Holy Ground. There he saw the Jollywatt returning with other craft, one of which was a bloodied funeral barge.

Hmmmm....

Good chance I'd be a sailor...

But, an ancestor at the time, well 1750, was a wagon maker, I assume his father was a wagon maker as per the other statements above.

There are many possibilities... from land owner and Irish noble to petty thief...

What would I want to do?

Sailor still at the top of the list.

Merchant sailor not a fisherman.

Or some form of military man.

Folding locking blade knife

Dubh and Fid, the fid usually stuck through the button holes of my jacket.

I may edit this later and add other images of this other stuff;

Gun flints and small gun tool (the pick/screwdriver/flint hammer thing)

Pocket watch

Small leather pouch full of dollar coins

Repro coins of the time period

Usually carry a short pipe in a pocket, or my longer one in my hat.

Tobacco cloth pouch (need a leather one)

Newly gifted box/playing board, Backgammon and Draughts full of the playing pieces, dice, deck of cards.

Small Spyglass

A rolled and beat up copy of the Draught of the Watch Dog.

I don't carry all this stuff all the time, my pockets would be buldging!

Hmmmm...

Aye Jacky, sounds about right...

Looks like he already made the trip once or twice already...

"Sam Sponge-cat" not to be confused with Spungebob Squarepants...

Aboard the Heron

As the jollywatt had started its way across the expanse between the Watch Dog and Heron, Dorian had given the deck over to Mister Tucker. He headed below to ready the Ward Room, as he would have the new recruits report to him there and put their names in the ledger. He tidied up some things, hung his short jacket up alongside his fine coat, checked to see if his weskit was dry, which it was close to, but still damp, as was the coat. He would just have to face the new crewmen in shirtsleeves, which might make an interesting impression on them. As the captain was putting away some papers, glancing over them as he did, he heard the hail and return hail of the Bo’sun. Smiling he looked over the room just as a musket report shattered the silence. This was soon followed by shouts and thumping feet and more musket fire. Dorian grabbed up his pistol and yanked his cutlass free of its scabbard and damn near broke down the door getting himself on deck. Seeing all eyes turned over the side, he found the Bo’sun.

“Tucker! Report!”

Mister Tucker was looking and glanced at the Captain as he yelled for the men to hold their fire.

“Someone in that boat there fired upon us, Sah! We defended th’ ship as rightly so!”

The Captain’s blood was up, he was upset being in some ways caught unawares. From over the side voices called out about someone being injured.

“Mister Tucker, have some men bring aboard whoever is injured, then send a boat full of armed men out there… I want whoever it was that shot at us, now.”

Tucker had never seen Captain Lasseter in such a dark mood. He was calm, yet radiated a barely restrained anger that he almost felt.

“Aye-aye, Sah! Right away Sah!”

The Bo’sun knuckled his brow quickly and turned away barking orders. Dorian stood at the rail, cutlass in hand as he stick his pistol on his belt, staring out across the bay at every eye turned on his little ship. He knew he had new crew aboard now and had to show his character. Watching the jollywatt skim across the waters full of men from the Heron, he saw the boat they were headed for bobbing in the water,grabbing the ship's glass he took a closer look at the craft, there was no movement aboard.

Twins?

Cul de Sac, Fort Royal

The sand ran out as several boats had come full of returning crew from shoreleave, to both the Watch Dog and Heron. ‘Lucky Tuck’s’ luck had held and he reported back to his ship with time to spare and had been briefed by the Captain and Bo’sun together. Nigel was in the first boat back to shore with a tired smile. Dorian surveyed the bay, watching the small boats skate across the water, retrieving and depositing humans and cargo on shore, and doing the same at the ships in the bay. Most of his crew made it back within the allotted time. One boat returned almost ten minutes into the watch with Harold Press and Robert Jameson aboard. As the boat approached Dorian noted that Press seemed quite agitated. He was wearing a scowl on his face and his fists were balled up. Harold would look about with quick movements, then stare into the bottom of the small craft. Jameson appeared to be trying to ignore the demeanor of Press by looking everywhere but at the man beside him. The boat came alongside and Dorian was waiting at the rail. Not with a cross look, but of one of inquiry. Jameson nearly leapt up the side of the Heron and knuckled his brow to the Captain.

“Sorry fer bein’ late, Sah! I was, we had, not ta blame him, Sah, but –“

Dorian held up his hand.

“Mister Jameson, wait for Mister Press before you continue. I will hear you both together.”

“Aye Sah…”

Robert stood and waited with a nervousness about him. Harold had climbed onto deck in that time and approached his Captain, knuckled his forelock and breathed a his through his teeth before he spoke.

“Aye… tis me ta blame for us bein late. I was… that is ta say…”

He lowered his voice as he looked around, hoping no one would hear him.

“I… I were robbed by a… by a woman, sah…”

Dorian lifted his chin slowly and lowered it just as slowly. He went to speak once and stopped. Putting his hand to his chin with one finger over his mouth he stood a moment longer. Harold went to speak more, but Dorian held up his hand.

“Apology accepted… let it not happen again. Stow yer gear and report fer duty.”

Both men saluted and were gone quickly. Mister Tucker looked at Captain Lasseter for a moment and finally spoke.

“Captain… Shouldn’t they have been put on report?”

Dorian looked at his Bo’sun and smiled.

“Mister Tucker, I think Harold has suffered enough with what has happened to him, and I believe Jameson lended a hand, no doubt Harold was harsh in his words when he was found out, probably made the lad swear to secrecy. No… no further punishment is needed.”

Tucker nodded and suppressed a grin.

“Aye, Sah.”

The Larboard Watch was all but ashore and the Starboard Watch about settled in. The day was half over and Dorian was getting restless to be ashore, having to play catch with what he hadn’t accomplished during the storm of the night before.

Just before the First Bell of the Afternoon Watch

2 August, 1704

Cute little cannon swabber....

Irish Breaky Tea.....

It's morning 'somewhere right now...heh

This flew over his house on the 13th...

William has this installed in his house...