William Brand

Now, now...let us not point our culinary preferences at one another. Syren has the right to prefer or not prefer what she wants in regards to food. ...the heretic.

Trinity Road, Weymouth by Peter Van Allen

I am checking dates and ordering extra dinner rolls.

No, no. That's just fine if the ladies get another boat. I want them to get another boat. I want them to get 12 more boats, including a really big one with a gun deck, but we're talking about the needs of this particular boat at the moment. This is just an effort to keep the thread less convoluted. So, for the record, anyone wishing to commandeer more boats, you are highly encouraged to do so. Go forth and conquer.

You won't be the first or last to think that, Rats. My box has been sitting untouched on a shelf ever since it arrived. I once destroyed a good box by falling on it when I stumbled. All of the seems popped and I laid it flat, but of course it won't keep me from proudly displaying this new one. I'll wear this one right out. It is too nice to leave at home.

One boat at a time please. We are wandering widely afield.

Aye. Crisp bacon and cheese coming right up.

You can of course have your grilled cheese with bacon.

Today's special is grilled cheese with a side of tomato bisque...

Aye.

I'm not certain of all the ways to steal a boat. The 'almost' is a safety net against something highly evil.

Welcome aboard, Miss Flint. I'm sorry we didn't get to chat more the other day. I hope you like your stay here. May it be a long and happy one.

I'm surprised by the sheer number of people who stopped by yesterday. New and old.

I will condone almost any action that will secure more boats.

July 31, 1704 - At Martinique, bound for the Fort Royal Prison William and Claude were intercepted some three times on the way to the fort prison by individuals who had learned of the Watch Dog's need for crew. William was not disappointed by these interruptions, for he preferred to hire on men who were free and able to serve. The first two men to stop him were waiting on the road leading up to the prison gates. By the look of them they had waited much of the night and morning for him to return to the prison, hoping to dissuade him into taking them over condemned men. This proved to be a simple task, for both men had seen the sea in at least two ships each, and William was glad to have men whose only ambition aboard ship was good pay, a hammock and fare of a decent fashion. The first of the two was named John Black. He was a colonist of mixed English and German origins, and a sunburnt redhead, freckled all over from dock work. He spoke with a mixed accent and a mild tick, for his left eye would twitch to the point of distraction every time he talked, so much so that he couldn't hide it. He was very forward about this, explaining that a block had fallen from the foretop gallant aboard the first ship in which he had put to sea. The heavy block, still strung with rain soaked line, had crashed down upon his head from that great height. At this, he removed his knitted cap to reveal that part of his head was stove in about an inch on one side. The head wound had long since healed, though it was a long scar of some seven inches. Adding to this his red hair and his head looked like a copper pot with a dent in it. William, worried that the man would be prone to seizures, asked many questions regarding the injury until he was satisfied that the man would not froth or faint in the rigging. By the time he was through asking questions of John, the man was promised food, raiment and a hammock aboard the 'Dog. The second man proved even more interesting. His name was Adam. Only Adam. Like John Black, Adam had been injured as a youth. He and a several cousins had taken to games of pyracy and in a parody of hanging gone horribly wrong the man had lost his voice. His neck had an aged quality, like so much skin wrinkled by time, and it was obvious that the tissues underneath had been severed. William had never signed a mute aboard any ship he had commanded, and he couldn't think of any he had known that had. Still, John fervently explained Adam's history and his excellent skills, remarking more than once on Adam's good hearing and his speed with knots. William was not opposed to hiring the man, but this accidental oath of silence presented him with understandable concerns. John, anxious to see his friend aboard, also pointed out that Adam had learned to write and with a good hand. Also, while Adam could speak no language, he could understand German, English and some French. In the end William relented, for Adam was able to demonstrate that his skills were adequate to the tasks that would welcome him on the frigate, so William sent the two men with word from him to Captain Lasseter, allowing Dorian the first pick of them if he wished it. William and Claude walked only a little way further when they were again intercepted by a man seeking to find a berth. This third man, one Christophe Lefevre was a Frenchman through and through and could speak no more English than Argus. He was a thin man, but wiry for his frame, with a shock of unruly, dark hair. Unlike his surname, which belied a blacksmithing trade, Christophe was gifted with no more training than a common seaman. William was not disappointed by this, for the man was able to answer every question put to him by way of Claude. What troubled William was the man's lack of any English. This was compounded by the man's frankness concerning language, for when William asked Christophe if he would learn English, he simply stated that in all of his years of trying to learn it he had utterly failed to comprehend enough to ask or understand the simplest of terms. What's more, he did not believe that he could ever grasp it, no matter the length of time, for he had no gift for languages other than his own. "I have a mute who can hear in three languages and answer in none, and now this fellow asks to come aboard and remain foreign in tongue." Claude did not translate this to Christophe. Instead, he reminded the Captain that if Christophe were properly placed, he would serve near several Frenchman already aboard. William was unsure, but he agreed. After all, he had Ajayi aboard with just the little experience he had gained since the demise of the Warrington Hart. "Very well. Tell him to see himself to the Watch Dog by tomorrow, noon." They were stopped five more times on their way to the prison gates as several others attempted to gain a berth, but all of these were found lacking in skills sufficient to be considered, for William would only allow so many men aboard who could not speak English. He found the idea of bringing on more Frenchmen rather than English counterproductive. He was further frustrated in his plans, for they were intercepted so many times on the way to the prison, that the noon hour soon approached and they were forced to head back again to the docks. William's pressing business regarding the Maastricht sale made a visit to the prison impossible that day. He was not happy about this. He said as much to Claude as they traveled again to the sea front. "For some eight years now I have escaped prison, and now that I wish to go, I cannot arrive at the destination." Despite William's frustration, Claude could not contain a wry smile. Eight bells of the Forenoon Watch Afternoon Watch Begins ~Starboard Watches on Duty~

Since the fort is just beyond the Truman Annex, this wouldn't be a bad name.

We'll go halves. My wife likes the color of this one, so don't touch it. But fire this one a second time and let me have first dibs on it if I like the color. And I love the color of this one...

No, I'll take a gamble with these two if you would like to fire them again. Fire away again and we'll see how they come out.

Wait...I want this one and the other one.

I want that last one...

He smiled appreciatively, and the boy offered to fill their glasses a second time. Alain shook his head and the boy collected them again. There followed a brief pause, for Alain did not know where to take this chance meeting. He was bent for the docks, and to the work he had secured there the day before, so when the silence had lingered a moment, he tipped his hat again. "Merci de la boisson, manque. Bonjour." he said with a smile and a polite nod. Then he left her to what other chance encounters might come her way as the sun continued to climb higher over a flawless day. Between seven and eight bells of the Forenoon Watch

Alain looked at the coin with a spreading look of amusement he could not contain completely. He tried to smooth the smile into something more gracious, but it didn't work. Instead, he looked around, trying to find a vendor of no particular goods. His eyes alighted on a boy not much different than the pick pocket. The young lad was pulling a small cart fixed with a tapped keg of some questionable looking vintage. Still, it was probably rum and the day was hot so he snapped his fingers and called for the boy's attention. The boy came with haste, noting the coin in mid-exchange. Alain took the offered coin from Murin with another polite touch to the edge of his hat and placed it in the boy's grateful hands. Then Alain asked for two glasses. The boy went to fill them, but Alain took them both, holding them up to the light. When he was somewhat satisfied by their cleanliness, he passed them back again and the boy filled them two thirds full. Alain passed the cleaner of the two glasses to Murin and proposed a toast made up of nothing but a nod and a smile. He drained it dry in one go and studied the glass with a slight narrowing of his right eye, for the stuff was heady and very recently brewed. "Horrible." he said, followed by a brief cough. "Je suis remboursé."

He smiled but wondered that she should have look irritated before. Then he understood and smiled a little more, but wryly. "Ahhh... que le garçon a payé entièrement." he said, gesturing to the teeth on the cobbles. Murin looked at them and did not at first understand Alain's meaning, and sensing that she might have no grasp of his language, he tapped his two front teeth. "Dents pour une bourse."

The young sneak thief had gained full sprint and was well on his way to escaping the encumbered tailor. He dodged two immediate strangers who attempted to halt his retreat and managed to make his way into the thickening crowds. Then he chanced to glance over his shoulder with the grin of the catbird, but his joy proved premature. Alain Roux was coming out of a bakery off the plaza just as the young pick pocket bore down upon him. Perhaps it was instinct, quickness of thought or just a reminder of his own misspent youth, but Alain saw something in the lad that made him stick out his foot as casually as a man stretching his legs from a nap and the boy went sprawling. What followed was the most profound din of cursing and caterwauling that Alain had heard in years, for the boy dashed out his two two teeth on the cobbles and did no small amount of damage to one elbow. He rolled over clutching his face and howling between spats of pain and profanity. Alain's pleasure at stopping the thief was immediately replaced by the regret at having done the boy so much damage for such a little parcel. He had stolen his share of things in his time, and nothing was worth a good set of teeth. He tongued the place on the right side of his mouth where he was missing two of his own as he picked the boy up from the street, careful to relieve him of the package. "Désolé, garçon." Then the boy took a swing at Alain which he easily dodged as he took a coin from his own pocket. The boy delivered a particularly long dissertation in shouts about Alain's mother and father that was delightfully unkind. It was so profoundly awful that Alain actually laughed. The boy had a gift for true foulness. Murin came running up then and Alain sent the boy away with a round coin and a swift kick.

Does it matter? You'll only steal them back again.