William Brand

August 3, 1704 - The Fort Royal Prison "For what, Captain?" William returned, his eyes still firmly fixed on Dufour. "Had you struck Monsieur l'imbécile and dashed an eye, my good Captain, no apology would be necessary." He stepped closer to Dufour. "I will now explain to you your orders, Monsieur Bénédicte Dufour." If Dufour wanted to protest at this, he did not. "You will remember your failings with care when asked what happened yesternight. You will take as much blame as you think you may and keep your place. I care very little how you avail yourself before your superiors." William continued to advance until he was almost toe to toe with the man. "As for me...I will forget the long and tedious inquisitions you visited upon me when I came with proper papers. I will forget the disdain you showed towards me and my men when I twice visited the prison seeking to find recruits with true petition. I will forget how you caused us to stand in the rain. I will forget all, but forget not me, Monsieur. Forget not me when you speak of this, for if you should place this trespass upon me or my men, I will come again without title or script and explain myself in a fashion beneath civility. Beneath Heaven and Earth. I will come armed with rage and purpose with Capatin Lasseter as my second and no second, third or fourth that you might call for will be enough. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Monsieur?"

August 3, 1704 - The Fort Royal Prison The guards would have pressed the door if not for two matters. One, they owed no true allegiance to Monsieur Dufour, apart from being posted to the prison, and two, William had already fixed them with that dread expression that warned,"Come not in by the door gentlemen. You are not sufficiently compensated for duty this threatening." William turned again to Dufour, who stood unable to answer Dorian. William went to ask him about the Frenchman, but an idea occurred to him then that gave him pause. "Moniseur...how seemed Klass Scymmelpenninck to you?" "Seemed...?" Dufour started, and Dorian glared at him. "He was quiet, Monsieur." "Aye, and not unlike him to be so." William agreed, but then added nothing himself, for his mind was already racing down the many avenues of possibility. Dorian had the presence of mind to make one of the most important inquiries of the moment. "Describe Scymmelpenninck?" "I remember him little." Dufour insisted, but something in Dorian's face invited him to be more specific. "He was dark...and, older." Dorian looked at William. "Dark...?" "Scymmelpenninck was fair and of some nineteen years." William explained and the look that he gave Dufour was so full of reproach that the man flinched, but it was nothing compared to the words Dorian visited upon his head.

August 3, 1704 - The Fort Royal Prison "Perhaps you would explain it to him, Monsieur." William said roughly. Bénédicte Dufour had already returned to himself a little and he shrugged off William's hand indignantly. He further gained his former aloofness with the arrival of several of the prison guards. "Barre outre de vos mains, capitaine!" William glowered and would have shouted again, but the air outside was already clearing his head, and as his lungs replaced the foul air, his foul mood was also replaced. Still, he lost none of his momentum. "Monsieur, would you please explain to us what transpired yesterday evening?" Bénédicte cleared his throat and began. "Your men, Monsiuer, came to the prison by lamplight and in a carriage." "What men?" Dorian asked. "Klass Scymmelpenninck and a Frenchman." William answered, and there was no mistaking the bitterness in his tone. "Oui." Dufour agreed. "Your men..." "Call them my men once more, Monsieur." William growled, stepping a forward. "Please. Just once more." Dufour retreated a step, but with the guards there he retained a certain superiority. "These men came with letters from you." "Which you read, of course." Dorian added. "Well..." Dufour faltered. "No." William closed his eyes and walked away from Dufour in a wide circle, sliding the palm of one hand all the way down his face in slow exasperation. Dufour plowed ahead. "The Commandant was away. He had just left. I was busy with other matters, Monsieur." Dorian just shook his head. "Capitaine Brand is allowed some four score..." "And ten, yes." William finished for him. "You kept me drilling on the cobblestones the better part of an hour when I came for recruits!" "I..." "Who was the Frenchman?" William pressed, too impatient now to care that Dufour was thronged about by armed men. This question utterly undid Dufour, for he had not known the man and could not say much about him apart from his name. Then he offered to fetch the books. "By all means, Monsieur."

August 3, 1704 - The Fort Royal Prison William watched Dorian depart with a measure of empathy, for he too had choked down the smell of the place on his previous visits. William turned again to Van Zandt and tried to find words to bring the man out, but there were none, so he parted with a promise to move those in charge to some sympathy regarding the Doctor and his wounded men. "I will do everything in my power to see you moved to the daylight cells, Doctor." William promised, then added. "...and as far from den Oven as possible." William smiled as he spoke this last part, but his smile faltered, for Van Zandt looked troubled and made as if to speak. He opened his mouth but it was Bénédicte Dufour who filled the pause. "Capitaine Brand...I..." Dufour began, and he paled a little as he began. A cold feeling crept down into William guts and a chill ran up his frame that prompted an involuntary shiver. "Yes...?" "Your men came again yesternight with aaaa...petition for Capitaine den Oven..." William did not wait for Monsieur Dufour to finish. Instead, he bolted to the last door of the midnight cells and pressed his lantern to the small window there. The cell, but for one remaining man, was otherwise empty. William rushed back to the attache and the Doctor, crying, "What men were they that came here last night?" Dufour shook his head. The blood had gone from his face. He looked the part of a man who had suddenly found himself removed from his position. "Mon dieuuu..." "What men were they?" William all but shouted again, grabbing the man by the collar. "Scymmelpenninck vas one." Van Zandt said, answering for the shaken attache. William's eyes widened and he looked angry, bewildered and frantic all at once. He just stood there, still clutching Dufour by the collar. "Was Wellings the other?" "No." Van Zandt returned. "A Frenchmen...I knew not his name." "Your men came for him with petition, Monsieur" Dufour tried to explain again. William turned on the man. "What angel in Hell would petition den Oven? Good gods, man!" William let go of him and paced a tight line along the corridor He seemed to speak only to himself. "A day gone. Already a day gone." "My apologies, Kapitein." Van Zandt said quietly. "Ve knew of no petition. Ve thought den Oven vas ransomed." William returned to himself at once. He nodded to the Doctor and grabbed Dufour up by the collar once more, too bewildered and angry to care if he had the power to order the attache around or not. "You will follow me this instant, sah!" then he turned an raced up the stairs, taking the precarious steps in pairs until he had reached the upper landing. Dorian could hear him yelling from the darkness long before he reached the open air. "Dorian! Den Oven is gone!"

299 days 20 hours 39 minutes and 30 seconds left until the 2008 Fort Taylor Pirate Fest!

Did your signature get longer...again?

August 3, 1704 - At La cuisine de St. Martha Tudor said nothing at first. She simply ate and smiled. Roldán made no effort to press her. He ate and smiled as pleasantly as one might with an old friend, enjoying the conversation and the silence equally. Tudor pondered what she knew about Captain Brand, though having known him for only a few short months, that knowledge was not significant. She had heard of the shipwrecks from William's own mouth, for he had talked of running the Hamer Hoen aground on two occasions, once on accident and once on purpose. He had of course recovered the ship on both occasions, and had even bragged of it, but this knowledge paled in comparison to some of the horrors laid out by the Lieutenant. The Tudor answered the only way she knew how, but in a way that placed the burden of explanation back upon Roldán. "You must first tell me where you learned of each rumor. I would know the bias of each tale." Roldán smiled and raised his glass a little. "The lady understands retreats and advances." First Bell of the First Watch Elsewhere at the Fort Royal Prison William and Dorian went in by the main gate of the Fort Royal Prison, and by the navigation of a few turns, they found themselves in the courtyard near the office of the Commandant. Louis de Mallevaud was not at the prison that night, owing to a dinner party he was attending in honor of a friend's birthday. His attache, Bénédicte Dufour, examined their papers once more before escorted them again into the bowels of the midnight cells. The lower cellblock, which had been gloomy by daylight on previous visits, proved utterly inky by night. The one solitary and sputtering lamp which lit its central corridor, served only to cast shadows on shadows and the dim flame demonstrated how poor the air was below the prison. It made the walls glisten wherever ground water had seeped into the place. It punctuated the small, dark squares which served for windows on the cells doors along the left side of the corridor, and emphasized the deep open barred cells to the right. Despite the heavy gloom the lamp made of the place, it was alive with coughing, snoring, conversation and one poor singer, all trying to survive one more night cut off from stars and sky. William felt both glad and guilty of the two lamps they carried into the place, for the light attracted thin, blinking men from the many corners and shadows. They seemed to emerge from deep recesses within the walls. They came up to the cell bars and the small windowed doors in a quiet shuffle that was unsettling, like waking dead. Among them was Doctor Arts Van Zandt, a regal man standing tall among the withering. "No, Kapitein. I vill not go vith you." Van Zandt said, smiling and cutting to the chase before William could make the offer of escape once more. William returned the smile, but shook his head. "Why would you remain in such a place?" William asked, though he knew the answer. The Doctor did not make a reply. "I have come again to ask, but this time with more earnest. Our Doctor is gone and I have three times the number that I arrived with, but now I have no one to attend to them." "As you see, Kapitein, I 'ave no shortage of patients here." Van Zandt gestured about the barred cell and in the direction of the two further along the corridor. "Und some zere unseen." He added, nodding towards the many doors opposite, where only a few faces observed them threw the small, barred windows. William's eyes fell upon the last cell door there, where he expected to see the dour face of den Oven, but the former Captain was not watching the proceedings. "If you will not accept freedom and employment, sah, will you accept a gift?" "A gift...?" Van Zand returned, then shrugged. "I vill not refuse any good zing in zis place, Kapitein." William looked at Monsieur Dufour as if to ask the attache if it would be allowed to give a prisoner goods. Dufour stepped forward an examined the parcels which William had purchased just that evening with Dorian. Dufour searched through each item, and as they were approved William passed them to Van Zandt. In this way, each parcel circled between the men, arriving in Van Zandt's surprised but grateful hands. For as he collected the items, it was apparent that all of the gifts were either tools of medicine or medicines themselves. When all of them had been passed in to Van Zandt, Dufour reminded Captain Brand that such items might not remain in the charge of Van Zandt if the Commandant de Mallevaud should not approve. William acknowledged that the gifts might be short lived, but he felt confident that Monsieur de Mallevaud would be fair on the matter. "Kapitein, I don't...I..." Van Zandt began, but William simply nodded. "Men whom we have never met, in rooms we have never visited, made us enemies, Doctor. If strangers can cause us to fight strangers, then we may decide when to be civil without care of offending them." William explained. "They gave no thought to us when they caused us to be enemies, so I say we should give no thought to them when we decide to be friends." William might have won Arts Van Zandt over then had it not been for the Doctor's oath not to leave the men in his care. Van Zandt would never leave them, come what may. He would stay to nurse every man to health or every dying man to his ease. William accepted this, though being without a surgeon, he was obliged to try. This done, he thanked Van Zandt once more for hearing him out and bid the good Doctor good health and the hope that he would one day 'practice medicine in a place of fresher air than this'. Dorian and William made as if to go then, but Van Zandt called them back again. "A word, Kapitein. If I may." William walked over to Van Zandt and the Doctor pressed his face to the bars to speak to him as privately as the bars allowed. "I do not know vat it can mean to you, but you have been fair, so I tell you zis zat perhaps it may help you." "Yes...?" William prompted when Van Zandt paused. "If you remember, you had me examine ze vounded und ze dead ven ve lost za Heron und Maastricht." "Aye." William agreed. "I remember." "I examined za dead from za Heron und Maastricht...und za injuries vere consistent vith za battle, save one. Kapitein Stoneburrows vas not killed by shot or splinter. He vas stabbed." William looked at Van Zandt for a moment, and then shook his head. "He was shot. Kapitein Stoneburrows was shot. A wound of the chest if memory serves." Van Zandt shook his head, so William called Dorian over and explained the same to him. Dorian agreed that Van Zandt was mistaken. "There was no such inj'ry given when th' Heron was boarded. Th' man was shot." Van Zandt nodded, but repeated his discovery. "Kapitein Stoneburrows vas also stabbed." he said emphatically, then added, "In za back."

I'm working on a panoramic view of the fort and the surrounding grounds.

Exactly. It would need to be a shielded setup, of course, but it is very plausible. Dong one down at the encampments becomes a logistical nightmare, so that's out. It would be nice to have a camera on a pivoting mount, so that we could record some of the field battle, but I think that an angle showing the parade grounds would provide the best overall shot.

A very happy birthday, Captain Sterling. Birthday's are my favorite holidays by far, for they are the singular celebrations of every unique person born into the wide world. Would that I could raise a glass in your company today and gift the moment with a tale or two, but alas no. Still, may your day be filled with many a good volume of joy, rising and then sleeping with a smile like happy bookends. There was a star danced, and under that was I born. - William Shakespeare

Invented or borrowed? Oh who cares...I'll take a plate.

Actually I've been discussing that with a friend out of New York. He does a live cam for a convention every year and he does a ten second frame shot the whole time which produces a great time lapse video of the whole event. Even if the wi-fi proves to be spotty next year, we could still do the time lapse with the proper equipment.

Oh very nice. Another good link.

Very nice. Thanks you for the link. I'm hoping to have one built for PIP.

Today's special is baked Alaska! FOOOOM! Mind the curtains!

August 3, 1704 - At La cuisine de St. Martha "He certainly enjoys a fierce loyalty." Roldán began. "A trait which has not gone unnoticed by my master." The food arrived then and for a moment they did not continue. Several elegant dishes were presented in quick succession, with wordy explanations following each. Roldán seemed far less interested in the food, as did Tudor, but they bore the servant awhile and even managed a bite or two when he was gone before Roldán continued. Then, what began as a tale stemming from a very few well established facts about William Brand, soon grew into a long narration which included some three shipwrecks, a half dozen treasonous acts and one harrowing tale about the wholesale slaughter of some one hundred men, women and children aboard a merchantmen off the coast of the Azores. Roldán explained each rumor as he understood them with the detached air of one who has read many such stories. He placed no emphasis on one over another, lending no personal opinion in his tone. The he paused to eat and waited to hear what she might say. Elsewhere at La Chateau Anse William, Dorian and Claude made themselves known to the innkeeper, Monsieur Ferland, and his able servant, Marcel. Having rushed from errand to errand that day, William found himself hungry, so he ordered up enough food to serve some six men, hoping to reward Claude for many weary days and to provide Luigi some token befitting his recent loss. Then he caught up to bottles of fine port and left coin sufficient to cover all of this provender as they went up to visit the wounded man and his waiting companion. Upon entering the room they found Luigi in the care of one of the serving women, come up to bind his hand with fresh bandages. Teeke Ranst was there, though nodding in a chair when they arrived. He stood up immediately and saluted both, making a report of Luigi's health and recovery in a bad mix of perfect Dutch and random, poor English. "That will do, Mister Ranst." William said, holding up a hand. He passed a bottle of the port to the Dutchman. "Daar, goede kameraad." "Dank u...thank you, Kapitein." Dorian went to stand by Luigi and watched the woman work while Luigi made offhand comments about the money he would save on gloves. "A tithe of tanned leather..." he said at one point, and William couldn't help the smile which spread across his own face. "I am glad to see you well." William said with a tone of sobriety that was in utter contrast to Luigi's mood and his state of inebriation. "We'll soon see you home again." "If I must, sah." he returned in good spirits. "Don't worry, Luigi. There is no hammock waiting for you. Miss Wardell has quit the ship, so you shall have the surgery for an...appartimento." "I miei molti ringraziamenti, capitano." They shared the second bottle then and drank a toast or two, and even the servant stayed for a drink. While Dorian and the rest talked of the day and the many comings and going of the 'Dog and Lucy, William sent the woman to find some of the men of the frigate below in the common room. She returned shortly with Owen Monahan and Nathan Bly. 'A more mismatched pair she could not have found', William thought, but he liked the choice. "Captain Lasseter and I are bound for the Fort Royal Prison on ship matters. As you both are on leave, you shall be handsomely paid to see Luigi safely aboard the Watch Dog." William emphasized this with four very round French livres. Their 'Aye, Ayes' were well purchased and William invited them to remain and eat as the food arrived. Eight bells of the Second Dog Watch First Watch Begins Larboard Watches on Duty

August 3, 1704 - At La cuisine de St. Martha The Lieutenant smiled a little as he filled his own glass. Then he looked about the room. "Perhaps the compliment seems...inappropriate in this place. Perhaps in time it will find favor, though in truth I spoke it in truth..." he leaned in a little as if in confidence. "...and in church." He paused a moment then, as if choosing his next words carefully. He picke up his glass and sipped it to wet his purpose. "In truth, I have asked you here on other matters." "Other matters...?" she said by way of prompting him, though it wasn't really a question. Something about the Navarra, Le Vedette, and his most Catholic Capitán Eustaquio Alano Avendano made such 'other matters' inevitable. "My Master, Capitán Avendano, wishes to travel to Trinidad in the company of a second ship. Le Vedette will not survive such a voyage until she is repaired, and no other ship but the Watch Dog is bound for Spanish shores at this time. My Capitán has certain doubts...no...certain..." "Misgivings." Tudor offered. "Sí." He nodded, pausing again. He looked at her evenly. "Your Captain has a history."

August 3, 1704 - At La cuisine de St. Martha A man overshadowed their table with a quiet, but pleasant smile, and there followed a fast interchange of French, between the servant and the Lieutenant. At one point Roldán looked to Tudor and gesturing to the man asked, "If I may...?" "Please." she returned. The two men continued to converse, exchanging many familiar words. Tudor recognized 'poulet', 'citron' and 'potage'. The word pudding also passed between them once, needing no translation from one language to the next. After a few moments, the man slipped off to the kitchens and they were alone again. Roldán made a point of looking at her without a word for several long seconds. It was a brash gesture, but the look itself was a genuine compliment nonetheless. "Your Captain Brand is a wealthy man." He said finally, with an undertone intended to further the compliment as he poured the wine.

August 3, 1704 - On the streets of St. Louis The Lieutenant's conversation was sparse at first, touching mainly on the subjects of the Navarra and the repairs being made to Le Vedette. He was very forthcoming about the number of men they had lost on their voyage to Martinique. He touched many times on the subject of Captain Georges Voulet, who had perished saving his own ship and the Navarra both. He did not mention his own Capitán Avendano during his narration, but he did praise the Navarra's Doctor several times. Like the first time they had spoken, he seemed willing to talk much about his life and recent experiences. And, like before, his eyes took in much, for he was ever watching the various nooks and alleyways of the darkening streets. They walked in the middle of the road, for few carts were out and this afforded them an open view of everything about them. They were not alone on their journey, for one of the Lieutenant's men had joined them on their way, though he was polite enough to accompany them at a distance. "One cannot be too careful." Roldán explained. Soon they reached a seemingly modest looking establishment which proved to be a unique, and surprising lavish affair. It was an unusual place for dining, having been built within the remnants of an old church. Most of the architecture remained just as it had been when the building had served as a place of worship. Now it served for worship of another kind, for it was filled with many comfortable tables and private corners for the purpose of dining in adoration of fine cuisine in the company of like worshippers. The whole of the place was lit by the sconces and hanging lamps which had once illuminated many a mass. A few of the tables were long enough that pews served for seating. Even some of the original stained glass was intact, so that the whole effect of the place was not lost on the patrons. And if the atmosphere where not enough, the name of the place itself provided emphasis, for what had once been L'église de St. Martha, was now La cuisine de St. Martha. Lieutenant De La Cruz lead Miss Smith to a table already waiting for them. It was set with a well chosen vintage and only two chairs, the Lieutenant's man finding a place by himself elsewhere. "Vontade este...Pardon. I use English less frequently." He drew out her chair. "Will this serve, Miss Smith?" Three bells of the Second Dog Watch Larboard Watches on Duty

Last call for shirt orders!

Wellllll...when Jock Matlow takes pictures, he takes pictures. It's always nice to see so many photos from an event. Thank him for sharing. And a special thanks for taking a few pictures of the architectural elements of the building itself.

August 3, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog Roldán De la Cruz was all smiles, grace and decorum as he assisted Miss Smith into the small boat. Her descent into the waiting craft was noted by tested men and new recruits alike, for the men who knew her well smiled to see her in a dress, while the new prison recruits smiled to see a woman in any manner of dress that she so chose, so long as she was a woman. Also, the nights aboard the Watch Dog were quiet and filled with few entertainments but some small work and watches and little else but music and conversation, so the men and one woman watched them go. Argus even heralded them one last time with another bark and Treasure ruffled his bristling hair. "What are you gaping at you rogues?" Jacob shouted, coming onto the weatherdecks with Hollis and Kampaert hefting many a trunk over and down into the waiting boat. "See to your work or hammocks!" he called, and his bowels made his tone a thing which none of them could ignore. Even Argus was quieted by a look and Jacob smiled to himself despite his stomach. Then with permission, the small boat cast off. Two bells of the Second Dog Watch

You birthday, your choice.

August 3, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog Lieutenant De la Cruz smiled and repeated his previous bow, though with less grace, causing a few protests from those men at the oars. When he had steadied himself again he nodded and said, "I await your arrival, Miss Smith." Tudor left the rail bound for her own belongings and the Lieutenant was left to bob upon the bay, though he did exchange his share of composed looks with Treasure Tribbiani, who stood near the rail in Ciaran's company. She did not have many pleasant looks for the Lieutenant, but neither were they unpleasant, though she watched him and watched him until he could not help but watch her back. It was a staring contest of sorts, Treasure scrutinizing the young Spaniard while he observed her back again with an interest that seemed almost aloof, though he smiled at her once after a fashion. Argus barked once at him, and Treasure chided him for it, though she petted him a little after and said, "Good dog."

Wonderful...I just posted that drink. It's amazing. Pirates can hear a poured drink miles off.