Dorian Lasseter

--in the woods-- ::Dorian and Armand, seeing safe haven in the forrest, hunker down out of sight to rest and to weigh options...:: Lessee... tha' cannon fire we heard.... been about half 'r three quarter o' an hour ago... ships even under full sail can't be more'n two leagues away... up 'r down th' coast.... 'r out ta sea... Mayhaps we should head back ta th' Kate... mayhap we got outta there just in time, iffn th' whole area was raided... :; he looks at Armand :: Ye got any ideas, La-- Armand? ::Armand closes his eyes, his thoughts to the past, 'on the run again' he thinks:: Oui, Dorian... I know the way to the Chateau that Tempest and I went... I have some Livres, some coin enough to get some horses, we may travel swiftly... No? ::Dorian purses his lips and nods... :: Aye, tha's not a bad plan...not a'tall.... Heh, can't wait ta get back on a 'orse, eh, Lad? :: he nods again :: Tha' may be our safest plan... per'aps we c'n find out what may 'ave 'appened through yer friends there? Well, we best be --- :: his words are cut short by the report of a single cannon, close by. they almost dive to the ground at the sound.:: Tha's close! I wonder... stay put, I be right back... ::Armand nods as Dorian steps to the base of a large tree:: Ah, hang on ta these, will ye? :: He hands over the parcel of swords and his Dragoon pistol, then rubs his hands together, grabs hold of the tree trunk and starts to hoist himself up... Slowly he climbs higher and higher, up to near the top he wraps his left arm around the trunk, fishes in his pocket and pulls out his glass, shakes it open and puts it to his eye:: Armand! I sees th' "Dog"! She looks a wee battle worn... I sees the Bo'sun on deck... an' th' Master gunner... where's Cap'n? Looks like Mad_Jack's comin' ta shore wi' a landin' party... :: he looks down at Armand :: Ye think tis safe? :;Armand looks up at Dorian, opens his mouth and shrugs:: "Possible?" ::Dorian, collapses his glass, shoves it into his pocket and swings about, sliding down the tree to the ground:: Looks safe enough fer the two o' us, armed as we are... we'll go carefully.... give me th' parcel, and me one pistol, ye 'hang on ta th' other an' th' sword.... Ye may need 'em... ::they cautiously make their way towards the cove...::

-- in the woods -- ::Dorain and Armand continue at a brisk pace, the soil becoming sandy, they know that they are soon to gain the beach head:: AH, we be back soon... alla this walkin' fast is wearin' me out... how ye doin' Lad? ::He looks over to Armand, who smiles and nods, but does not speak.. Suddenly he stops and his face goes grey:: "Dorian! The ship! She is gone!" ::He points to the cove through the sparce trees, there is not a ship, but empty water:: Christ! Come on!!! Back inta th' woods!!! ::Dorian grabs Armand by the shoulder and shoves him, running back into the deep brush, out of sight.... He draws and checks his dragoon pistol, shoves it back into his belt, draws his ships pistol, checks it, shoves it back...:: Damn!!! mayhap tha' was cannon fire! We best keep outta sight till we know what 'appened... Bloody Hell!!! :: they retreat into the depths of the trees ::

--on the way from town back to the cove-- :: Dorian and Armand walking in conversation, the topic straying to and fro, talk of life at sea, life on land, exotic places, common streets and so on... as they walk, the faint echoes of either thunder or cannon fire is heard on the breeze.... Dorian stops, cocks his head to the side...:: Did ye hear tha' lad? I canna tell iffn 'tha' was thunderin' guns 'r clouds... ::Armand tries to listen to what Dorain speaks of... all he hears is the rustle of the palms and brush, the occasional sounds from the distant town...:: "Non, Dorian... I hear nothing of that...." Shhhhhhhh!!! ::Hisses the QM, as he holds up a hand...:: Mayhaps we should make haste ta th' ship... lets 'ope nuthin's gone wrong whilst we's away.... t'would be alll th' damn luck.... ::The nod to each other and start off again at a quick pace... they reach a bit of a clearing and see dark clouds in the usually clear blue sky :: Ah, musta been thunder... look at them clouds... mayhaps we best hurry, they's look like they'll give us a goode blow... best ta be belowdecks fer tha'.... ::So, they continue through the trees at a brisk walk, trying to catch glimpses of the darkened sky through the trees, hoping that they can get back aboard before being drenched...::

You don't want to know :) Oh, but I do...

::Armand takes the sword from Dorian, draws it and does much the same that he witnessed earlier...:: "Oui, it is a fine blade... You wish me to have this til we are at the ship? Merci...." ::Dorian nods, placing his hand on the pommel of the sword of the same type gracing his side...:: Do ye think th' Cap'n will appreciate one 'o these? I hope so... ::they continue their brisk walk, nearing the ship every step, enjoying each others company... a bond of brotherhood strenghtening every moment::

Bill?

--Ashore, heading into the Tsunami Kate-- :: as the QM and Armand, with Johann the Smith in tow, enter the 'Kate', they are bumped into by the Master Carpenter:: "Just in tyme tas whet our whistles, I says. How be ye this fyne day mates? "Says Rummy Aye Lass, who'd ye bring ashore wi' ye? I don't see any o th' other lads wi' ye? Well, we in fer a wee nip then must away... ::jerks thumb towards the big man:: this 'ere be Johann Shwartzstahl... best weapons smith I know... ::They amble in, up to the bar and order, Dorian laying down some coin.... once served, they toast the ship, drain thier drinking vessels...:: Ah!!! Grande! Grande indeed... As much as I'd like ta jaw 'bout 'r past.... we must away... :: looks about and sees Rummy :: You too Lass!!!! we best be gettin' back ta 'r ship... ::Armand, enjoying the atmosphere, seems saddened to have to leave after such a brief visit... but he understands the need to return to the ship, to the Surgeon, to what lays ahead for all:: "Bon.... let us go then..." ::So off Dorian and Armand go, bidding a farewell to Johann the smith and the folks in the Kate... As they depart, heading to the edge of town :: Aye Lad, 'ave one o' these til we get ta shore side.. ::Dorian pulls one of the new blades fron the parcel and hands it to Armand:: Tis a fine weapon... well balanced an' actually tis a horseman's sword... Tho straight bladed, does a grande job.... http://www.armourclass.co.uk/Data/Gfx/Big%...well%20Long.jpg

:: The question asked hangs in the air for a short time as Dorian thinks of what needs to be done, what they were here to do, and when they needs to be back at the ship :: Hmmm.... sorry Lad... we must get ta th' weaponsmith first... as it is, I was ta pick up me order two days past... I's 'opin' tha' the gent hasn't sold them off since I didn't show then.... :: a look of disappointment crosses the Gascon's face momentarily, to be replaced by a cool look:: "Oui, Dorian... I see... but, afterwards... once you 'ave obtained ze order... what then?" :: The QM took a deep breath, laughed and smiled at Armand :: We'll see, Lad.... We'll see... If th' gent plans ta haggle o'er wot we determined as a set price... it may put me in a dark humor.... prey that it don't, and prey we still gots some coin left... Agreed? :: Armand, satisfied with that answer, smiled :: Oui, Dorian... let us pray we have coin enough... ::Dorian slapped Armand on the back, and they continued on through the town, through the crowd of stalls, of those wanting to buy, til they came to the sign of the sword and anvil :: Ah, here we be Armand.... lets 'ope this dunna take but a moment... come on... :: they walk into the dusky building, where the sounds of hammer fall echo, the smell of charcoal, sweat and steel mingle.... They stop and the QM looks around until he sees the man in question; a large man, almost too wide to step through the door without having to turn sideways, and almost too tall not to have to duck as well. He was wearing a leather apron over a sweat stained shirt of some years of wear, his hair shaved to a stubble, but made up for by the growth from his chin. :: Aye! Shwartzstahl! Ye got me order ready Lad? ::As Dorian yells, the big man stop in mid hammer fall, looks up with an irritated look, his vision focuses on the QM and a smile cracks the broad face :: "Ya, Dorian, I gots the order you made.... you late! I should make you wait for making me wait! " ::the big man lumbers over to them, making the pair look up into his visage:: "What's this? you bring a fellow with you to gang up on me, ya? Das not gon to verk you know? I could squeeze ya both, one in each hand, Ya?" :: Dorian clenches his jaw, the creases on his brow getting deeper, until the man stops to take in a breath :: Now you listen hear ya bloody bullock! I been mighty busy makin' all th' reperations I need ta, an tha' takes time! I han't stepped ashore since I last spake ta ya, ye lummox! So don't ye be blatherin' on about wot ye should a done 'r not! An as fer me mate 'ere... mayhaps I did bring 'em along sos ye don't try ta cheap out on me order... ye damned over blown swindler!!! ::As the two men shot insults and jibes at one another, the whole shop of smiths stop their work to see what there was to all the yelling. Armand, looked from Dorain to the Smith, fearing that there would be a bloody outcome, one that may be worse than some of the horrors of his past, his fine breeding and his honour bade him to interject:: "Gentlemen, gentlemen!! Surely there is no need for such an argument! Monsieur... Shwartzstahl? Please, bring what Monsieur Lasseter has ordered, so that you may get paid for your hard work and we will be gone... This will satisfy? Oui?" ::As Armand speaks all eyes are on him, as he makes his plea, Dorian and the Smith look at each other, and back at Armand, an almost shocked look upon their faces... a short silence follows, then they grin, start to laugh and slap each other on the shoulder. Armand looking even more bewilderd than before. The QM finally finds his voice..:: "salright Armand! Tha' was grande o' ye ta step in there an' try ta settle us up... Fergive me... this be Johann... a mate I known fer many a year... we don' see much o' each other these past few year... so, when we do.... well... ne'er ye mind... I's sorrry I dinna warn ye..." ::the two men composed themselves, occasionally stiffeling a chuckle, while Armand trying to look dignafied, still alittle shocked, stood silently.... Johann walked to the side of the shop, picked up a bundle and brought it over:: " Here ya go Dorian.. all four, made to your order..." Johann said, as he handed the bundle to the QM... ::Dorian, unwrapped the canvas, revealing four swords in scabbards, he took one, pulled the blade from it's scabbard and took a few steps away from Armand and Johann, he then took a stance, came into guard and started to go through several guard positions, and attack sequencess to an invisable opponent, his movements fluid, until coming back to a low guard...:: Excellent, Johann.... ye make th' best o' these Mortuary Swords I've e'er handled... all four th' same, right? ::He smiled, nodding to the big man:: Ya, Dorian... just what you ordered... Now, pay me.... ::Johann said, also with a smile:: :: the QM sheathed the sword and laid it with the rest, looking at each in turn, then pulled a leather pouch from his inner waistband, hefted it a few times, then tossed it to the smith :: Ye outdone yerself, Lad... have ye time fer a drink? Armand 'ere has a thirst after 'r walk here... ::Johann, still clutching the pouch, his face splitting into a big grin:: Ya, I got time... if your buying... Aye Lad, a'right... I'm buyin'... Yer a'right Armand? Come on... lets go 'ave a drink....

:: Stoping in his tracks, Dorian turns to Armand :: Aye, we be on foot.. th' town is just o'er th' rise... Ahhh.... fer want o' a horse... The travel time would be shorter, aye... but we havn't any 'orses ta use.... Come now... a goode, brisk walk... yer gonna miss this once we get under weigh... :: the two men set out on their trek ::

Ah, there ye be... all is well then? Right, we're off then... :: with a quick smile, he slides over the side and down the tumblehome of the hull, taking the side ladder down and into the waiting dingy... he steadies the boat as Armand malkes his way down, slower than the QM but not without pluck, once aboard, the QM takes up the sweeps and pulls toward the shore:: So, Lad... ye look a might pale.... have a bad night? Well ne'er ye mind... we's all in goode hands... Oh, I've a spare pistol fer ye, since we be goin' ta town... :: Armand, nods at his question of the evening... his face brightens a touch at Mr. Lasseter's words of encouragement, and that he will be given arms:: "Merci, Quartermaster..." ::Mr. Lasseter gives Armand a pinched look:: Armand... ye c'n call me Dorain iffn' ye like, as we're away from th' ship... might be best as well when we be in town... :: Armand, slightly taken aback, nods :: "Oui..... Doriene....." :: The QM nods back :: Aye, that'll do.... ::Soon they are at the beach, through the light surf and onto dry sand..:: Aye, help me pull th' dingy up farther... ::they pull the dingy up out of the surfs claws, brush off the sand, and at a medium pace, head into town...::

:: after sending the Navigator on his way, the QM checks the logbook, notes that most of the work at hand has been accomplished in due time... a sudden realization struck him as he noted the date..:: Lardy, tis been two days past time fer me ta pick up my order... Hmmm.... :: he wipes his face with his hand, and looks forward, sees Armand, leaning against the gunnel :: Ah.... I wonder... Lessee... Bo'sun! I 'ave an errand ta run.... Ye have th' deck, til th' Cap'n makes his presence, 'r I get back.... shouldn't be gone long.... :: he nods o the Bo'sun, turns and walks up to Armand :: Ah, Armand.... As most o' th' crew be busy.... might I have yer misteress' leave ta 'ave ye join me ashore? I've a small errand ta pick up some items, an' would enjoy yer comp'ny... I'll be tellin' th' Cap'n I's goin' ashore, would ye ask Tempest fer yer leave? I'll met ye at th' side, we'll take th' dingy... :: noding to Armand, he tuens and makes his way to the Captain's quarters :: *knock, knock* Cap'n? Tis Mr' Lasseter... I's a need ta go ashore... ta pick up some items I had orderd when last ashore.... I'll have a lad wi' me, and shouldn't be long... Bo'sun's got th' deck... ::He returns to the waist of the ship, waiting for Armand to return from the ward...::

Aye Mr. Straw... Ye says ye been sickly? An' laid waste in yer hammock? Where abouts aboard, as I had not seen you anywhere in my travels tween decks...? As fer administrations of a doctor, ye best check yerse'f in wi' th' Surgeon... She'll be sure ta have ye back in fine health.. not a moment too soon, as we shall be weighin' anchor afore weeks end.... As fer yer need o' a new hammock, see Ms. Kendra, she'll make ye a new one right proper... So, yer not in need o' more tools o' yer trade? Fine then... I'll take yer cutlass, axe, an' all them 'locks, put 'em in th' armoury... ne'er ye mind about powder n' shot... we got plenty aboard... Yer intitled ta 'ave a knife, as are all th' rest o' th' crew.... but be warned... ye best not be hidin' a sword 'r pistol from me.... Very well... now off with ye, at some point th' Cap'n'll want ta have words wi' ye... so 'r way c'n be plotted...... where e'er it is we be headin'

Aye Mr Straw... Glad ta see ye... As fer an invintory o' goods... I's not sure wot ye mean... There be th' binnacle wi' th' compass in it.... if ye look in th' cabinet there be a back staff, a quadrant, an astrolabe... a few other items as well.. If ye wish ta add ta tha' or ye got personal equipment, tha's fine.... If ye wish ta purchase new, I'll see about some coin, an' make sure ye take one o' th' lads wi' ye, armed... As fer yer weaponry... give us a list an' hand it' all over ta be kept in th' Armoury, ye c'n come ta me until we get a Master 't Arms ta claim 'em...

:: Placing both hands on the top rail, he stepped back, stretching his back like a cat, then pushing off of the rail, bringing himself upright...:: Wot I 'gleened' from th' items 'e show'd me... an' wot 'e told me is tha' Armand is of some form o' royal blood.... I's not sayin' 'e be th' long lost prince... but he be a Comte at th' least... An officer wi' th' Cavlery... an high rankin' on from wot I c'n tell, ain't somethin' ye work yerse'f up to... ye either buy it 'r yer born inta it... I's seen a feller several years back when I was in Marseilles... 'is men called 'im 'Comte de sumthin-r-uther' canna remember wot now... 'e 'ad a sword very much like Armands' and dressed rather highly... So... some twist o' th' fates 'as brought 'im from high horseman, down ta manservant... in a short time by th' looks o 'is finery... Now from wot I sees o' 'im, 'e's a goode man... has this fall from grace been an 'umblin' experience? 'r did 'e know 'ow th' world looks ta th' rabble? :: A look of true questioning crosses the quartermasters face, not one of scorn, or posing of jibe ::

Zebra...

:: a silence hung in the air while each of them mulled over the revelations with the captain... their thoughts turned inwards, reviewing their own lives, to the point in time they now shared, here, on this deck.... Unable to stand the silence the quartermaster speaks...:: Ah, Lass... might ye pass tha' bottle 'ere? :: the Surgeon, almost startled at the sound of his voice, takes a second to understand what he asks, then slowly hands the bottle to him :: Thankee, Lass... :: withdrawing the cork with his teeth, he releases it into his open hand, then up turning the bottle, taking a large gulp of the firey liquid, return the stopper and hands it back... :: Well... now tha' th' cap'n's let his cat out o' th' bag..... I s'pose Armands li'l secret should be easy ta tell... :: the surgeon gives the quartermaster an aprehensive look, but before she can speak...:: Aye, 'e told me enough... showed me plenty.... I's thought surely 'e'd a told ye wot 'e done... we must tell th' cap'n.... seein' as fer wot 'e jest confided in us.... I trust 'im... he been a fair man thusly.... best ta lay 'r cards onna table.. as it were... I think 'e should know afore we weigh anchor....

::The QM pursed his lips, considered all that the Captain said.... thought for a time...:: Well, Cap'n.... I wouldn't be 'ere iffn' I had a fine gentlemans past..... We's a ship o' fools iffn' we be anythin'.... Wot e'er be yer decision... I's here ta follow..... What'r yer wishes?

:: the QM raises his eyebrows, glances at the Surgeon, then shifts himself into a more formal stance :: I think we best join 'im quickly.... m'gut says we may 'ave trouble... Shall we? :: he holds out his arm for the good doctor, then they go below...::

Aye Cap'n... Tha' it has.... a goode week tho....

Hmmm..... Aye... I do believe I shall..... Ah, I seem ta nay 'ave me jack near... ::with a sly grin, he takes the goblet from her hand, takes a drink and hands it back:: Mmm... thankee... :: he settles himself against the sternpost ::

Very well... :: Mr. Sons departs to fulfill his orders, and the QM haeds to the quarterdeck to fill in the logbook for the day... As he gains the deck, he sees the Surgeon, sitting on a keg, enjoying the evening and some spirits... After finishing his chore, he approaches...:: Evenin' Lass... Might I share this spot wi' ye? *she nods he assent* Thankee... Tis a fine eve... not many left ta be 'ere in th' cove... No. not many more... soon we be bound fer th' deep blue... Ah...

Blue Oyster Cult, Godzilla!

Ah... Th' musket powder n' balls, I'll take ta put in th' Armoury... Th' Cannon powder n' shot, find th' Master Gunner an' 'ave 'im store it wi' his stores.... Thankee......... I take it ye brought alla this o'er in th' dingy?

:: His minds wandering interrupted by one of the crew, reporting of supplies purchased :: Aye Mr. Sons... I'll 'ave ye take th' Line ta th' for'ard cable tier fer storage... Report ta Ms. Christine wi' wot ye got fer th' galley... an as fer powder n' shot... Be it Cannon grade 'r musket grade powder? An' wot kinda shot?

Aye...... Effort.. n' Tallent....