William Brand

The Making of Tawny: Part Seven Three days passed before the discovery of Christopher Daniels and Brianna Woodbridge. They were found as Tawny had left them, but any dignity that he had allowed them in death was undone by jackdaws and crows. Brianna was so badly damaged as to make it impossible to recognize her. She was identified only by a small book of poems which she kept upon her person. It was tucked neatly into her clothes which lay scattered about in a way that suggested that she had undressed herself. A few very large, round, golden coins were found within the pockets, which her parents could not explain. Her mother was taken to bed unconscious in grief for days while the father was found many times in the streets in a state of such drunken surrender that he might have poisoned himself with drink. He purchased every dram with the coins found near Brianna and would wail so loudly in public as to make those who witnessed it retreat in grief. Christopher was found that same day and very nearby, as were his clothes, evenly distributed among those of Brianna. It looked as if they had helped one another undress in equal portions. His bodied was discovered naked and aloft, hanging in the midst of the lower rafters. His neck was neatly broken by the fall in the noose he had employed to hang himself. His hands were covered in caked blood, presumed to be Brianna's. No other mark could be found upon him, and but for the carrion birds, he would have been as beautiful in death as he might have remained in life. No note was ever discovered to explain the scene. There seemed no need of it. It was the worst, single atrocity that anyone could remember. It was assumed by all, though with understandable shock and disbelief, that Christopher had lured Brianna to that place of secrecy to lie with her and afterward killed her for reasons unknown. It was also taken as red that he had killed himself in remorse for that damning act. It seemed so obvious in its horrible simplicity, in its stark coldness, that it left a kind of wound on everyone who learned of it. The shock that such a thing could have happened, and that that angel of a boy Christopher could have done such a thing, shook the community to its core. People who had openly trusted the world about them, now ran the bolt of their doors at night. Some turned to God in anger, frustration or sorrow, while others quit his company forever. Those who could find it in their hearts to pity Christopher believed that the loss of both of his parents had driven him to the horrible act. Those who could only hate him believed that it was he that had caused their death and they spat at the mention of his name. Cormac was devastated. He was only just recovering from the terrible revelations of Aingeal when Christopher disappeared. At first, he thought that Christopher, horrified by Aingeal and David, had quit the place to find solace elsewhere, but with all of his possessions and clothing left behind it had seemed unlikely. Now, with the whole terrible truth laid at his feet the slightest breeze might have carried him away. Once a man of great carriage, he was now listless and bent. It would be impossible to say what Aingeal had become by then. She closed herself away in the tiny, secret room of the house and would not come out again. David-Tara, now Tawny, was the only person for a hundred miles in any direction that felt just fine, if such a thing could be imagined. Outwardly he was careful to express a kind of confused sadness, which came over as genuine and pathetic. It never entered into the mind of Cormac, Aingeal or anyone else that David had had anything to do with the murder and suicide. He had in fact left enough evidence to betray himself, for even he had not thought of everything, but nature and chance had washed away much of it with the rain and vermin. Brianna's father destroyed all the rest when he burned the barn to the ground in a fit of rage and sorrow. There is little more that remains to tell. Tawny was born in the destruction of everyone who had made him. Some innocent. Some guilty. Most were left alive. Some were killed and spared the years which followed. The most innocent perished at once, but for Brianna's parents. Cormac died a pauper, but not because of Tawny. Bad fortune just seemed to follow him after. Aingeal remained a dead woman as long as she lived and no more can be said of her that could not be imagined already. Many of the girls which had known David-Tara wondered what had become of him. He never went to any of them after, so when some of them heard of Christopher's deeds and death, they feared silently that he had been that very boy that had loved them once. One girl, so frightened by this idea, took herself to a nunnery. The rest enjoyed some love and some loss with others over time. Some were happy. Most of them were. Tawny's other child was born and lived but a short time. It was common for newborns to succumb to illness and perish in early life. It was a boy.

My art chest is filled with obsession, frustration and other mixed media.

You cantankerous wet-quaker, I would not be seen with the likes of...oh hell. I'd love to.

Redhead dreads...cool. You need to check out this ancient thread... http://pyracy.com/index.php?showtopic=4314...p=0entry0

Today's special is leftover Halloween candy!

Quiet, you pickaroon pirates! You kidlays. You goatish, caw-handed rantipoles! You...ahhh. Sterling and Dutch. Carry on, then.

I never met him myself, but he lives on by reputation.

I strongly recommend them as well. I bought a plain, untreated canvas wedge tent from them. It has never leaked or given me any trouble and the construction is very sound. Few tent makers will put as many added features into a simple tent as Red Hawk. Good price. Good product.

Representatives, please tell the members of your crew that the safety meeting is mandatory for anyone participating in combat scenarios, battles, small performances, demos and any other event involving weapons. Please don't wait until PIP to tell them that there will be safety meetings every day. Remind them and now and remind them often that the meetings are mandatory. Repetition breeds understanding. You might even ask people who aren't carrying weapons to be there, because you never know when someone who isn't shooting a gun might remind someone who is what they should and shouldn't do. I'm loathe to admit one of my own failings, but even after attending several safety meetings last year, I still forgot one primary instruction during combat, because I got 'caught up in the moment'. We all need to watch one another. We can't afford to forget anything. Harry has set the time for 9:30 AM following the instruction meetings every day. Start spreading the word. Note: For pirates in the beach encampments, you must remember to leave as much as 30 minutes early in order to walk to the safety meetings in the fort, depending on how fast you can walk. Do not leave the beach at 9:30 to attend a 9:30 meeting. The safety officers should not have to repeat themselves because of stragglers.

A also agree. You should post these comments in the thread about representatives as well, for those people who don't read the Mercury Crew thread.

I vote the nominations cease. I'll put the three of you down as the representatives. Our group is large enough that three of you might be required, so this works out well. It goes without saying that anyone else may join you three if they wish. The meetings aren't mutually exclusive.

Here, here! Many happy returns and a very happy birthday, lad.

I'll send a cardboard cutout of myself for the photo op.

The Making of Tawny: Part Six The next few weeks were a daily nightmare of disillusion. David-Tara's father would not look at him but for stolen glances of horror mixed with shame and revulsion. Every coveted glance he sought from his father came like a blow. Cormac could have done no worse then than to spit vinegar upon him with every look. Each painful and silent interaction killed more of the child David-Tara had been, replacing it with the monster Tawny. David-Tara knew that the fond looks and kindness denied him would be visited upon the head of his new enemy Christopher ever after and he loathed him to a bitterness known by few. Even worse than his father's daily retreat was his mother's constant attention in those following days as she begged his forgiveness, awakened now to the years of poison she had drunk daily with her son. She was ever the anguished penitent of mixed madness, grasping at forgiveness with the right hand while pointing in accusation at all around her with the left. She had become the outward monster of her inward turmoil. She never knew a day unmarked by tears ever after and people retreated from her as they would a leper. David-Tara escaped them both as often as he could, finding some solace in the silence of his own thoughts and in secret places known to him and no one else about the countryside. He was the animal now. He felt that he was forever denied genuine pleasure, company, love, acceptance, and any place at the table of society for years to come. Believing this, he set himself on a path to ruin. It should be mentioned here that Christopher Daniels felt sorry for his cousin and would have befriended him as easily as he had so many others, but he also sensed the venomous hatred within his new cousin-sibling and understood that caution was the order of the day. He recognized that this hatred directed at him might be a kind of jealousy and he had also been privy to the many revelations of his wretched aunt. This only prompted him to a greater kindness, for he was young enough still to see the good before recognizing the bad in people. To his credit, he tried again and again to approach David-Tara on the few occasions that his cousin was about. Every encounter was met with a kind of dark silence and Christopher slowly began to distance himself from his cousin. Then a strange thing happened. One day while Christopher sat studying a large map on the desk of his uncle, David-Tara ventured into the room, and in a manner both shy and seemingly innocent, he invited Christopher to walk with him. Christopher saw it as a break in the clouds and went with David-Tara out of doors at once. At first they said little, as two cousins who barely knew each other would. Had anyone seen them together then they would have noted the familiarity of features in the two contrasting boys. Indeed, side by side they looked like siblings as much as cousins. Christopher enjoyed the walk, thinking himself the better for this opportunity to help his cousin and in the same way, help his loving uncle. He made a few comments on the day and the clear weather. He noted the vastness of the estate itself. He remarked on the fine condition of the many country walls separating one field from another. With each added point of conversation he hoped to work David-Tara from his shell. David-Tara said nothing. His mouth was utterly dry and he had to keep his hands tucked in his waistcoat to hide the shaking. He let Christopher ramble on as much as he might, finding a reason to hate everything his cousin said. Having already determined to murder him, he felt no great compulsion to make conversation. In time they reached the decaying barn where he had first met Brianna. "Brianna." he thought with wonder. That had been her name all along, though he had only ever used it for the purpose of flattering her during their more intimate moments. Her name had meant no more to him than any other words that he used when in her company, but now it seemed very profound, almost distractingly so. Funny that he should really understand her name as it was meant to be, now that he had already killed her. Christopher brought him back from his thoughts. He was talking about the barn now. He commented on the beauty and wonder of the place as boys will often do in old buildings and remote places. He was genuinely pleased to have discovered this new place, with its smells and collapse. He began climbing on everything at once, anxious to see all parts of the barn with a carefree quality that made David-Tara angry. Still, these explorations eventually brought Christopher to the only part of the lofts still intact, the exact place David-Tara had meant for him to go. Here, David-Tara produced a small flask he had stolen from his mother's secret lover. It was filled with a dark brandy of questionable origin and he offered it to Christopher. At first Christopher hesitated, not out of any mistrust for his cousin, but in the cautious way of a boy who doesn't know what to think of drink. He evaluated his age and moral compass, but in the end he was assuaged by the sudden hurt and uncertain look in David-Tara's eyes more than anything else. It was Christopher's natural desire to make everyone happier that was his undoing in the end. He took the flask gratefully and went to his death as Aristotle. David-Tara retreated to a corner as his cousin began to choke, then die. When the throes of death came at the end, he found himself standing over his dying cousin with as much fascination as he had shown watching Brianna bleed out. When Christopher was dead, he went to work undressing him. Then he brought him top the place behind the barn where Brianna lay still. She lay as she had for hours in a pool of her own blood. She was ruined in a way that blasphemed the love she had known for him. He had been as throughly cruel as he had been generous, having destroyed her utterly with many wounding blows. He had been careful to leave the face undamaged, wanting to see how she would look in death. Now her face frowned, a mark of the absolute sadness she had known seconds before the horror and shock of that first attack. The rest of her was a mess of blood and tatters. So utterly was she damaged that there was a kind of macabre telling in it, as if he had enjoyed the savagery more than the mere act of killing. He stood there now, regretting again that he should have damaged her so much, for in this ferocity he had denied himself the opportunity to see his unborn... "No." he said aloud, returning himself to the moment. That door was closed. He had done what he had done and would do so ever after without regret. He returned to his work as it began to rain.

I believe Michael just volunteered.

I highly recommend doing a large group shot immediately following one of the big battles on Saturday. I think we would have had more people under the banner had we done so last year and I kick myself for forgetting to take one.

We need to pick two representatives to go to the daily meetings at the fort for information and instructions, Please see the following thread... http://pyracy.com/index.php?showtopic=13506 I believe that any member of our crew would be well suited for this task, so long as they're willing to shoulder the responsibility.

Aye. Most certainly, aye. Perhaps we can have someone from the Bone Island Buccaneers volunteer specifically to rally the unaffiliated attendees. That way if anyone asks, we know where to send them.

Try some of these... http://www.noquartergiven.net/crews.htm#SOUTH%20WEST http://www.noquartergiven.net/crews.htm#SOUTHEAST

The subject of camp coordination, and specifically delegates of representatives from each camp, has been discussed in more than one thread in this sub-forum, but it needs to be addressed once more in preparation for Pirates in Paradise. Any crew or group camping in or out of the fort should pick a representative to meet with their representatives from other camps each morning and evening to discuss the matters of the day, schedule and any other instructions being sent down from the fort to the re-enactors. This person should be picked by each group and the name of that person should be added to the list here, so that Harry and the other park rangers will no who needs to be contacted for any important information. This person does not have to be the Captain or leader of said group, but it should be someone willing to take on the responsibility of receiving and distributing the information in a timely manner. As I will not be in attendance, someone must be chosen from the Mercury crew to take my place in this regard. Once chosen, these representatives, both inside and outside the fort, must decide on a time and location to meet daily for the purpose of distributing information, i.e. weapons inspections, battle times, parade schedules, etc. You may choose to call this meeting whatever you wish...Officer's muster...Meeting before the Mast...what have you. This meeting should be consistent and should be followed by the distribution of information to your respective crews and groups. Please have a pen and paper or some other appropriate period marking instrument for taking notes, so that no information is mislaid or misunderstood. It would also be beneficial to have several runners for the overall encampments to run messages at a moment's notice. Also, you might consider the exchange of cell phone numbers from the various crew representatives as well as the park rangers for the purpose of maintaining communication. Please be certain to make yourselves known to one another upon arrival and avail yourself of all park regulations and special permissions granted to visitors and campers. The strong working relationship that we have worked so hard to establish must be nurtured and maintained year to year for the benefit of future participants. The List: The Archangel - (1720): Captain Sterling M.A.d'Dogge The Blackheart crewe - Port Royal (1681): Hurricane Diosa (aka Mary Read) - 321-537-6874 The Cursed Few: Crew of the Fairge lolair: Callenish Gunner - 814-221-5327 or 5326 The Mercury - (1720): Captain Jim Mission Michael The Crewe of the Sacred Heart: Quartermaster Fayma Callahan - 812-290-6056 South Florida Pirates: Capt. Gunn - 954-557-8857 Unaffiliated pirates or groups which are not camping in the park should see Quartermaster Nigel of the Bone Island Buccaneers for instructions and information.

We were allowed more than one fire, but we had to clear them before hand. We intended to make one in the Mercury camp, but as we kept gravitating to the other fire pit, a second seemed less important. Also, it was easier to maintain and regulate, so the limit of fires is probably a good idea. I hate not being there this year. I swear that he asked us not to have a second fire ...well then ...that settles that. He was 'cautious' on the matter, but we made it easier by not having the second one, though if memory serves, Iron Jon and Paula had a fire as well.

We were allowed more than one fire, but we had to clear them before hand. We intended to make one in the Mercury camp, but as we kept gravitating to the other fire pit, a second seemed less important. Also, it was easier to maintain and regulate, so the limit of fires is probably a good idea. I hate not being there this year.

Tonight's dessert is a chocolate volcano...

A cocked hat. A good reputation and the respect of your fellows. A sailor's knife.

Cider is up!