William Brand

Mister Badger prided himself on his excellent and exact ability to master wind. Rigging and canvas were the puppet strings by which he animated every ship which had ever been given over to his gifts. It was therefore no difficulty for him to put the poor demonstration of such skills to practice. He had to think backwards as he called out orders to spill a little wind here, and lose a little wind there, and the Watch Dog lost a full knot as it plowed through the darkness. Mister Warren was also actively choosing to man the helm with less applied prudence as before. He allowed the Watch Dog to drift, rather than propel. As a consequence of both men's actions, the westerly current was slowly, ever so slowly, carrying them all Westward. And still, up almost ahead of them, the two mystery ships kept to their course.

Here are three more concerning myself. 1. I was a homeless man who lived in Golden gate park in San Francisco. 2. I had lunch with Natalie Cole, the singer and actress. 3. I did time at County. For those of you not in the know, that means jail.

Always good to have a man who understands the business of a quick and decisive amputation and has the inclination and constitution which must go hand in hand with the occupation. Cheers.

First off, Blind Pew, the man I believe you are quoting is a man of strong convictions and deep opinions and in the context in which he made those remarks, he isn't entirely wrong. I don't always agree with his comments, but I respect his passion in his convictions. Secondly, who are you? I respect that you may have a beef with the person you have quoted, but why hide behind a name that no one knows? You have two whole posts. There is no personal information in your profile. It is one thing to broadside a pirate. It is quite another to ask us to do it for you when we don't know who or what you are about. Step forward and be recognized. You're standing in a shadow.

It is better to save your money for quality than to buy cheap. A quality weapon is an heirloom weapon. A quality weapon will be admired by those who understand it and those who don't. A quality weapon won't eventually end up in a yard sale. Cheap weapons are a dime a dozen, and the word 'dime' should never apply to your weapon of choice. The balance, quality of materials and workmanship on a cheap weapon make it a worthless piece in the long run and a waste of money, no matter how little you spend. And if I've learned one thing while visiting here, never set blackjohn's opinion aside lightly.

Thank you, Mister Lasseter. You must keep a running tab here of the 'aging' you are doing to that other draught.

July 23, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog Fourth Bell of Morning Watch William too had considered the possibility of heading into the wind Eastward. This would put them near land and perhaps ports, but it would apply an unnecessary and avoidable strain on the rigging, which already had cost them time and sail. Also, the obvious change in direction might be interpreted as defensive and William had no intention of turning the stern to anyone today. What remained was an abrupt assault or a less discernible drift in course, and while he enjoyed the tenaciousness in the Quartermaster's eyes, he thought the time for it was not yet warranted. Besides, as the Master Gunner had pointed out all so recently, there were disadvantages to consider. William smiled. "We will drift Westward, Mister Lasseter. And have the bosun spill some wind from our sails. We will give these possible interlopers a chance to show their intentions. Pass the word among the company. We will drift and discern." "Aye, Cap'n." "And Mister Lasseter, please have Miss Smith set out the Spanish colors. We may have to present our alliances soon and tip the scales." ~LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY

William watched a while longer before returning aft to the Quarterdeck. His hands were drumming on the collapsed glass. "We may need to consider an alteration in course soon. Recommendations, Mister Lasseter?"

Welcome aboard Mister Riley. Are you a sawbones?

"Extinguish the lanterns, Mister Lasseter. I'm going forward." The Captain made his way forward. He passed the Master Gunner, already employed with two gunnery crews. They were busy unlashing the guns of the Larboard gun deck. The Watch Dog was small enough that the guns were kept stowed sideways against the bulwark rail when not in use. This had the advantage of freeing up the main deck and it kept the guns shielded better from the elements. He reached and ascended the fo'c'sle deck and stood a long while watching the paired silhouettes on the horizon. "Where are we going...?" he asked the two ships. ~LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY

"Aye. Two ships together." he replied, passing Dorian the ship's glass. "MISTER CIARAN?" William called up, requesting any additional information the lookout had perceived. Ciaran peered down from the main top. "SMALLER SHIP, CAP'N! SLOOP MAYBE!" William and Dorian exchanged a look. While the two ships remained unknown, little or nothing could be done but alter course, but the introduction of a sloop made the matter more interesting. Sloops were fast and they made for good gun boats. William also looked down, noting that the Quartermaster arrived in bare feet. "Going aloft?" ~LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY

William had just made the Quarterdeck when the call came down from aloft. He stopped, surprised, but registered no outward concern. "Send word to the Quartermaster. Tell him he may continue resting if he wishes, for I will still send for him when the time comes." William went to the taft rail. Petee Youngblood came to the break in the decks with an unlit pipe set in his teeth, looking thoughtful. William met him amidships and they joined there in hushed conversation. "I've not the men to man both sides, Sah." William nodded. One ship was a simple matter, for they could match any one ship side for side. Two ships was an altogether different matter. There were too few men and women aboard to man all the guns. At best, they would be half manned on both sides if it came to that. William put the idea of broadsides from two fronts out of his mind. "We aren't yet engaged, Mister Youngblood. See every other gun unstowed, and quietly if you please." "Aye, Cap'n."

July 23, 1704 - Aloft on the Watch Dog Three bells of Morning Watch With Ciaran's return to the main top, he and McGinty continued sharing the roost a short while, both watching the distant shadow of the ship as it continued along the line that would intersect with their path. Somewhere up ahead they might meet, though it was likely by their progress, that the 'Dog would pass before them. "Time you were abed, John." "I am not tired." "Tired has little to do with this. Go down and pass word to the officer on deck, then off to your hammock." McGinty did not like retiring with a sighted ship on the horizon, but with no eminent or obvious threat, he could think of no good reason to stay aloft. He nodded, secured his spyglass, and departed the main top. Ciaran returned to watching the ship and the horizon at once. He watched the other ship intently. He watched her for any alteration in canvas or course. He also watched the sea around her. The ship made no obvious changes. After a time he lowered his glass to rest his eyes. Peering one-eyed through a glass in the dark was giving him a mild headache. He was more accustomed to squinting both eyes against a sea of impossible blue. Night watching with no moon was an exercise in eye strain. He rubbed his one eye with the ball of his fist, looking nowhere in particular for the moment. Then he caught sight of Miss Tribbiani waving her arm to get his attention. She raised two fingers and pointed in the direction of the ship already sighted. Ciaran snapped out the glass again and focused upon the target. At first he could see nothing. All was as it had been before. A lonely ship in a wide stretch of dark sea. Then, like a shadow dancing behind the shape of the first, he could see the unmistakable and triangular silhouette of a second ship. "Boa..." he began instinctively, but instead, he turned his face toward Treasure and nodded. It was a gesture that simply said, "Go ahead, lass. You sighted her first." ~LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY

July 23, 1704 - The Ward Room Between two and three bells of the Morning Watch "Lips may whisper about those pistols." William said aloud, once the room was left to him and the Quartermaster. "Aye." Dorian returned, though he seemed none too concerned. William drained the last of his glass. "Let it be given out that part of my portion in shares will be paid over against the value of the pistols." "No man aboard will begrudge th' Masters-atArms for a fine pistol." Dorian replied, and it came out sounding as much like an observation, as a Quartermaster's stern injunction. William smiled and offered the heavy bottle one last time, but Dorian shook his head, so he returned it to the bench. Then William scrutinized the Quartermaster a moment. "If you require any rest, you may have it. I can send for you if the ship out there proves threatening." ~LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY

William crossed the room to Dorian and they spoke quietly for a moment. They seemed to be discussing the 'Dog herself, and perhaps the mystery ship sighted in the night. What they were in fact discussing was something altogether different. Dorian looked up more than once, his eyes on Mister Pew and Mister Franklin. He nodded, and the two masters exchanged a look that was little more than curiosity. Then William crossed to the bench beneath the stern windows and fetched up four glasses and a heavy bottle. Dorian crossed to the lock box containing the Ilex Fortune. While the Captain filled the four glasses, the Quartermaster brought out the ironwood box with the unknown family crest on the lid. The small box was placed on the table in front of William as he passed a glass to each officer. "Gentlemen. To a 'Dog armed with sharper teeth than before." Mister Pew gave a solid 'Aye!' and Mister Franklin a hearty 'Here! Here!'. The Quartermaster simply raised his glass with an appreciative smile and they all drank down to the bottom of their glasses. Then William set his glass down, took up the bottle, and filled them again. Once they were filled, he opened the small box to reveal the inlaid pistols hidden with the compartment of green velvet. "Mister Pew. Mister Franklin. It is my pleasure to present this gift to the Masters of the watch Marines." Both men said nothing for a moment. Then, even when it seemed as though they had found words to speak, William added a little more to his speech. "I cannot attest to their quality, apart from the obvious detail of the inlay and those precious metals set into them. Having been in the cave for so long, you may wish to be cautious when first firing these lovely pistols. Unlike your finished and reliable selves, these weapons are not proved."

As the Larboard Marines were assigned to their muskets, William stepped to the stair leading to the quarterdeck. "Send down the Quartermaster!" he called, turning to watch each new marine return to the line. He noted, that like the Starboard Marines, each man, and now woman, stood taller then they had before. They all stood at attention, though neither of the Masters had asked them to do so. It was an unconscious act, he supposed. Moments before they had been able seaman. Now they were a trusted handful, picked to guard ship and possessions. William also noted a change in Masters Pew and Franklin. Each of them was a leader of soldiers now. It was a small title on a small ship, but they carried the responsibility with no less decorum than any admiral. When every one of them was armed, William dismissed them with his thanks, asking the Masters to remain behind for the moment. Mister Pew called each of the new marines forward by name and sent each of them from the room to their respective stations of duty. They went out to replace the lingering members of the Starboard Marines even as the Quartermaster arrived in the room. ~LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY

July 23, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog Between one and two bells of Morning Watch The Captain and Master-at-Arms waited for the return of Mister Franklin. This long pause made for some awkward able seamen, for none of them were certain why they were here. Their eyes fell on the arms laid across the table and in the hands of Mister Pew. Mister Franklin returned to the Ward Room and took up his place next to Mister Pew. "All of them are assigned, Cap'n." "Thank you, Mister Franklin." William faced the company, and as before, he explained the new nature of their calling. He was careful this time to include mention of the pay and the future possibility of uniforms. He was specific in his mention of the duties of the able seamen, reminding them that all responsibilities of the ship remained. He watched each of them for reaction as he did so. Ciaran looked pleased passed words. Siren looked thoughtful. Marchande was still and outwardly quiet. Bill Flint, who already looked the part in his tattered, marine uniform, smiled a grateful nod, his eyes falling on the much desired muskets to which he was accustomed. Woodington and Hingerty looked a little surprised, but not alarmed. Smyth was grinning through a mouth, now so recently minus a tooth. His swollen lip split a little as he did so, but he seemed not to mind. William gave the floor over to Mister Pew, who repeated his previous comments, reminding them that he was now in charge of them and they would answer to him for any trouble or praise. Both he and the Captain asked if there were any questions. ~LARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY

P-I-C-T-U-R-E-S P-L-E-A-S-E

I would pack a camera. If I came back without pics, blackjohn and Gentlemen of Fortune would join forces and have me killed.

It appears to be temporarily scuttled. We had to use Yahoo instead.

"Are there any other questions...Gentlemen?" the Captain reiterated. Louis Morrell cleared his throat. "Yes, Mister Morrell?" "Cap'n. I 'ave a question." "Proceed." "Well, Sah. Since it ain't been asked, Sah. The Royal Navy...they sometimes pay less to marines. Are we t' take a cut in our portion, Sah?" "Ahhh, yes. The subject of payment. A good question." William could see that those who had not thought of this before, were thinking of it now. "I would not promote your responsibilities, while demoting your purse, Mister Morrell. Be assured, you will all have the same payment as before, though some guarantee of added compensation may be in order. Understand, you are not relieved of those duties that touch all able seamen. When an armed watch is not called for, you will fall under the ministrations of the bosuns. The responsibilities of the ship require you to scrub, haul and clean, as always, for this is primarily a port calling. However, Masters Pew and Franklin have the power to remove you from those duties when the drilling and practice of arms is called for, or for the defense of the ship. Some of the watch will always be armed, either aloft or at the ward room and armory, but you are, as we all are when needed, working men. The title of Marine allows you a certain added gravity. An added measure of respect. You will have the best muskets, the finest powder, and perhaps once we are ashore, some other finery. I'm not certain whether uniforms are in order, but we shall discuss that matter in time." "Thank you, Sah." Morrell replied, and he was shortly echoed. "Then to your duties, Gentlemen." They went out, and William asked the Masters to return with those crew members of the Larboard Marines when they were ready.

William Brand walked to the opposite side of the table, where he sat for meals, stooped over charts, or stood to address guests and crew members. He sized everyone up for a moment, his eyes lingering on one man after another. He did this for what seemed liked a long time, his hands behind his back all the while, but it was only a minute and no more. "You men have been hand picked for special duty aboard the Watch Dog. Each of you possesses traits which set you apart from the rest of the crew." They exchanged a few looks. William noted that Roche smiled more than the others, perhaps because he had already guessed where this was going. "The Masters of the armory chose you for your aim, your efficiency, even your nerve. Some of you have demonstrated that you are possessed of great marksmanship. Others have shown an unswerving attention to orders and control in the face of fowl weather, danger and harm to yourselves personally." Mister Pew was nodding. The Master-at-Arms was watching them for reactions, for the tell tale signs of each man's thoughts. William continued. "From this point on, you will bear the designation of Marines of the Starboard Watch." Some eyebrows went up at this. Some smiled. The strongest of them, the most reliable, simply nodded in a way that spoke volumes. Yet all of them seemed to except this at once. This was the way of the sea. Promotion. Demotion. Alteration. Change. Every sailor expected to be tailored in his place over time. "Of course, this promotion, if it can be called such, has little or nothing to do with that ship out there so recently sighted. This is a necessity of port. While we are at Cul de Sac Royal, we shall have an armed detail of men aboard and ashore. You will be the standing militia of our small island. Those of you who came aboard unarmed will have use of these weapons assigned to you. Understand, Gentlemen, these are your muskets. Once given to you, they will be in your charge. You will clean, maintain, and fire these weapons in your service. How you keep them is a reflection of that service. Mister Pew."

July 23, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog Seven bells of Mid Watch The Captain and Quartermaster met at the base of the main shrouds, where they stood awhile in conference, discussing the possibilities of this new unknown. This part of the Antilles was rife with sea commerce and so the chance of threat was not a great one. Even if it was a warship, combat was never a forgone conclusion, so, for the time being, they both agreed to be cautious without raising alarm. As for the mystery ship, it was far enough off for the present. It showed no sign of bearing towards them, though her course, and that of the Watch Dog, would eventually intersect unless one or the other altered their bearing. This crossing of course was still hours off, and for the moment, no alteration was made in the bearing of the Watch Dog. Mister Pew arrived while they were discussing a course of action and William informed him of the ship and asked him to begin assembling those men of the Starboard Marines under Mister Franklin. "Already begun, Sah." "Thank you, Mister Pew. It seems fitting to me, now more than ever, that I should meet with the marines." ~STARBOARD WATCH ON DUTY

John pointed to a location as fixed in his mind as Gibraltar. "Just there... Sah. I make it to be a ship of some magnitude. She's far off yet, but already she blots out the stars." He raised his own glass again to be certain he hadn't invited the Quartermaster aloft for nothing. Down below, Mister Morgan put his head in at the galley. He interrupted the Captain and Cook mid-laugh. "Beg pardon, Sah. Lookouts have called the QM aloft." "Oh...?" William said, setting a large mug aside. "Thank you Mister Morgan. Mister Gage." William took up his hat and went out upon the deck. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust. After a time he could make out two men in the main cross tree. Mister Morgan stood close by with his face turned upwards for news from above. "Mister Morgan, please fetch up the Master-at-Arms." "Aye-aye, Sah."

Well, I'm not going to lose the paid trip to Cancun if I guess wrong.