William Brand

William sipped the remainder of his drink in a calm and collected silence. He was as quiet now as he had been loud before. On the Hammerhead, Carver had referred to him as "Captain Tsunami", appearing as an angry arm of the ocean one minute, and gone the next. It was a monicure he liked so well that he had passed it on to an appropriate acquisition of property not many months before signing aboard the Watch Dog. As he sat there, Fournier and Lamaire exchanged a look that said little or nothing, but William supposed it didn't have to. They were in the fire now. Perhaps, the eye of the storm. Everyone in this room understood all too well what they couldn't absolutely predict. There were a thousand possible endings to the unfolding events of the moment, and most of them were terrible. The future was death in small and great numbers. It was the mathmatics of the possible and impossible and William had always been better with words than numbers. Still, he did the math of the possibilities mutliplied by the unknown. Red Wake and the Reaper were not on the friendliest terms of late.

She just hates a lot of green vegetables. Well, to be fair, she hates them cooked.

Thank you. I'm motivated by a love for art and pyracy.

I love the fare served on St. Patrick's Day. My wife hates cabbage so I almost never have any and I love cabbage.

The new ensign for the Pirates of Treasure Cove.

Bloody Bill Flint's flag...

I had just enough money for plane tickets, a tent, food and a minimal costume when I went to PIP. Nobody said a thing about my sketchers. I couldn't afford footwear, but I think people were glad I was there. People will always take you over your kit. It's often better to be in attendence than accurate.

Do you mean a Mountain Man Gathering or a date?

^The camera catches his "I can kick your ass with one leg tied behind my back" expression very well. (see avatar)

My two pence... I've never been opposed to a little flair and a little personal taste, but like many here I have to agree that there were more blue collar working men than individual Liberaces. One of the best examples on this pub is Patrick Hand and his Buccaneer Kit. Functional. Simple. Well worn. Accurate. Flamboyance should be expressed in a good sword and a finely crafted firearm and I'll take a well dressed ship over any outfit.

Additional points for presentation. We're now serving gift baskets to ease off this flu season.

"If I had faced Gaultier on any other ground than this, I would have bludgeoned the man with the first uncivilized object within reach." Fournier nodded, not unsympathetic to the way in which Gaultier had used then abused his generosity. If a man had begged sanctuary aboard Le Requiem only to depart with ingratitude and accusations to another ship, the tables might have been turned, though with more care than Capitaine Hollande had shown. Still, William looked as calm as he ever did and his harsh words had gone a long way to silencing Gaultier's audacity. "It was my only intention to land a blow and stun my enemy...but I wrote in haste before." William said as he reached for the letter and set it afire on a neighboring candlestick. He was careful to place it in a waiting dish where it curled and darkened. Then, taking pen in hand again, he created a new letter. Mister Lasseter, Please inform our new arrivals that they may be visited by an envoy from the French before the night is over and ask them to prepare themselves accordingly. No one is to come aboard the ship without my express permission. I will return shortly. -W.H. In many ways, the new letter was the same as the old and William was certain that the warning lay between the lines and Mister Lasseter would find it there. The Quartermaster of the Watch Dog was a man of details. William had read his ledgers often enough to know that Dorian understood volumes in a word. When it was done, William read it once aloud. "Better." Lamaire offered. Fournier did not disagree and Simon was sent for and dispatched.

"It would allow you to openly send Gaultier to the Watch Dog in search of the prisoners, only to discover their departure. Not an ideal plan, I grant you, but with an effort I believe I can make Gaultier to feel the fool for not explaining his actions prior to departing my ship. Let him accuse me again in the face of so many errors on his part." William paused to sip his glass. "Not that I would mind you sending him to the sea bottom." Fournier did not look convinced. Lamaire looked to be deep in thought. Chanault was a statue. William offered another possible escape. "Why should he not be satisified that these men, originally allied to England, should not now, having defected, rush into the waiting arms of France?" "I do not believe that explaination would do, Capitaine." "Nor I." William agreed, smiling at the emptiness of his own suggestion. "Of course I could shatter Le Requiem's rudder with cannon fire and then escape into the open sea as a pirate, leaving you utterly blameless. No one would believe that you would agree to being fired upon to cover my escape." Chanault raised an eyebrow. Lamaire only smiled a little. fournier, amused or not at this last suggestion, simply replied, "No." "Mister Youngblood will be disappointed."

I don't think I'll be doing a wide variety. I plan on doing the reign of William the III for a start if all goes well.

I hope to make replicas before year's end of coins minted during the reign of William the III, but I don't know of any already made. I would be very interested in coins from the Netherlands. http://www.bottles.freeserve.co.uk/William-III.htm

William asked for pen and paper and immediately penned a letter to be sent by Simon Powell back with him to the Watch Dog. It was addressed to Mister Lasseter and it contained simple and flexible instructions. Letter to Mister Lasseter: Mister Lasseter, We are at once betrayed and in great danger. The man who so recently came aboard the Watch Dog and then fled to Le Requiem is in great ernest to have the remaining new recruits arrested as enemies of France. We must allow them to leave under the guise of an armed escape, proceeding us into the sea in the cover of dark. This will require you to warn Mister Flint and whomever he may take with him. They must fabricate a plausible departure. If our good Doctor can assist by providing the appearance of wounded guards, this may also serve. I leave the details in your capable hands, but time may be short. -W.H. William handed the letter to Fournier with a questioning expression. "Will it serve?"

William removed his hat and sipped his drink. William was a little surprised at this death knell pronounced over Gaultier. "The man has insulted a servant of the King of France, but only in the performance of his duty in believing that man an enemy of the King. He thought I was against France. Does this marque not show that I am for it and in the favor thereof. Can it not be made clear to the gentleman, that despite his blunder, the Watch Dog is no enemy of France. You are such an accomplished man of words. Surely the man's life, as worthless as it is, need not be forfeit."

As Gaultier left the company of the room William relaxed, shedding the monster for the man almost at once. "My sincerest apologies, Capitaine. I would have not declared war on this minor man within these halls...but some things must be answered at once before they grow by inaction. This creature...this play-actor of a person was on my ship...and pretended great need of shelter there. I've had my share of that."

William asked for an audience, no, all but demanded it, careful not to insult Lamaire or presume he had more power than he deserved on Fournier's ship. William was persistant at once in a way that was less patient than his usual self. Still, it was something more in his eyes that made Lamaire escort him at once into the waiting company seated in the Ward Room. Lamaire imagined he himself looked the same before many a duel William closed the distance to Gaultier almost at once, coming within half an arms length of the man. "You wished to see me, Monsieur?" Gaultier, who had arisen at once, was at a loss for words a moment and William plowed into him with a practiced anger that was a two edged sword of careful tone and reckless abandon. "You have a strange way of asking for an audience of me, going hat in hand to my friends in an effort to besmirch my reputation based on half guessed assumptions of my character. You must think me a very idle Captain to remain in the cloistered security of my cabin while you spill poison of me in buckets upon a table more noble than your own." Gaultier looked stricken by the accusation, not because it wasn't true, but because the audacity was more than he had been shown in many years and he was thoroughly unprepared for such a broadside of words. "Monsieur...!" "CAPITAINE, if you please...you ungrateful cur. Never has my hospitality been so quickly set aside for treachery. No man sups at the table of my generosity only to use that fuel I fed him with to start fires in my house!" William produced the Letter of Marque at once, snapping it open with a single flick of his wrist. "This document, while written in English, was penned in French ink, blood and trust. Will you dispute the claim of it?"

William strode out into the lamplight of the gundeck. He was armed with sword and pistol, but also resolve. He sent for the giant of a man, Simon Powell and asked Mister Pew to fetch two pistols and a cutlass for the him. Monsieur Marat looked nervous and uncertain. William gave him a friendly smile as the Quartermaster joined them at the waist. "I have business aboard Le requiem, Mister Lasseter." William offered before he could ask. "A situation calls for my personal attention. Otherwise Fournier's messengers will grow weary of the traffic." "Very goode, Cap'n." "Please see that all final preparations are made in my absence for what may be an immediate departure. No need to wake the resting watch. I'll want them fresh for use when the time comes." Simon was on the deck almost immediately and William was reassured by his stature at once. He had yet to see the man in a fight, but he knew that the height of the man went a long way towards intimidation. "Cap'n." "Yes, Mister Powell. It seems that your last duty to me aboard this ship will be to accompany me on a rather delicate and diplomatic mission." "Sah...?" William smiled his broad and dangerous smile, patting the gentle giant's arm. "Don't worry, Mister Powell. I have never been delicate or diplomatic." This statement went a long way to worrying Simon even more and Marat seemed none to pleased either. The arrival of the pistols and cutlass did little either to reassure the two men. "Thank you, Mister Pew. Mister Lasseter, I shall return in short order. You have the deck."

William pressed his fingers together a moment and was lost in silent thought. After a time, he stood up, and going to his own room he fetched up his cane, hat and a pistol. He brushed off the shoulder of his coat at a small mirror hung by the doorway before opening the door from the Ward Room. "Monsieur Marat, please accompany me to Le Requiem."

"Privacy? Non. Mister Lasseter may hea..." William paused. "Actually, Mister Lasseter, depending on the specific nature of this message I may need you to wait outside if you don't mind." "I'll go above." "Thank you Mister Lasseter." William and Marat waited as Mister Lasseter exited, not through the companionway door, but by way of the stairs leading directly to the quarterdeck. When they were quite alone, William gestured to a chair as he took a seat himself. "If you will, sir..." William prompted.

"Thank you, Mister Flint. I will do what I can for your imprisoned man. You are dismissed. When you are through in the surgery you are welcome to join those asleep below. I may call for you later if I should have need of you in regards to Henry." "Thank you, sar." William waited for him to go before addressing the Master-at-Arms. "Mister Pew, please inform Mister Badger and Mister Youngblood that Bill Flint will be staying on. Tell Mister Youngblood that I shall have Bill tested tomorrow at one of the great guns after we have left port. I should like to confirm his training in that matter. Also, see that they have adequate for their needs in regards to hammocks, footlockers and the like. We'll not be here soon enough again for any special goods." "Aye, sah." "Mister Lasseter, you may invite in the waiting gentleman."

Dagger shears. Developed by the Ottoman turks. Here is a nice pair out of England.

The oldest confirmation I have ever found on the subject is the Revolutionary War. The French revolution also has literature that speaks of "scabbard canes" which came into use as the popularity of wearing swords in public diminished. Most historians hint at earlier weapons of this kind, but I have yet to find an actual archived remark on the subject.