William Brand

Claude Marchande put up his hands at once, already cautious about spending any money on what he perceived as too fine a weapon. Mister Hawks was already pointing to the blunderbuss and both men were conversing on its merits. Morrell looked disappointed, but he acquiesced with a smile and a shrug, giving over to Ciaran's desire to own the rare pistol. William stood a moment with a smile playing on his lips, but in the end he removed his hat in a short salute of surrender to Mister Ciaran.

um...nothing.

As the bidding continued, Mister Hawks came forward with Claude Marchande. Both of them hefted the pistol a moment before returning it to the Quartermaster's hands. Mister Hawks and Marchande discussed it a moment before adding a bid that was not significantly higher. Still, it proved too much for Pascal, who dropped out immediately from the flurry of offers. Morrel looked determined, but worried. William thought he might bid once more and once more only, but he waited to see what Ciaran would do and how far Marchande might take the bidding.

William had not thought to bid much, having enough in the way of arms to sink a man if he fell overboard, but with the enthusiasm shown by Ciaran, others sailors entered the bidding. Louis Morrell shot up an arm and he was followed after by Pascal, who had once seen the pistol's workings while Diego was in the midst of cleaning it. It was a fine piece. Mister Lasseter had not exaggerated it's splendor. Rather, he had understated it. William let the volley fly between the crew awhile.

William raised a brow, stifled a grin and put in a following bid of no small significance. He watched a wry smile on Mister Ciaran's face and a grinning McGinty.

Napkin, STAT!

Kilt...? I have great calves.

I'd have said it. I'll fly out and give him an indian burn.

William was the first to raise his hand, almost before Mister Lasseter was finished. He had always admired the Spanish piece. It reminded him of similiar pieces of a Moorish origin that he had held while in his youth.

With Diego's weapon's below the mast, William stood awhile, his hands behind his back. Mister Badger was near at hand and he seemed in better spirits. He drew the man over with a gesture and they conversed at length about block, tackle and all other rigging that might be replaced while in the Don's good graces. William had no intention of replacing any of it, but since the Danzig Trader, they had been frightfully short on extra hemp. Mister Badger concurred on each detail and agreed to discuss the matter in greater detail with Mister Lasseter once in port. They turned back to the customary auction as the first blade disappeared into waiting hands. The sale of this cutlass was followed in short order by the exchange of coin and William received it and the price for an axe on the heels of the first. Mister Lasseter was handling the sale with a perfect blend of sobriety and levity. Even William, who had too many personal arms for one man, was tempted to buy a pistol as the Quartermaster lovingly displayed what he professed was a 'fine and worthy weapon'.

Okay, then just when IS the correct time to start campaigning? Your art is already there...so you are campaigning.

Alright...but then I'm breaking this party up, because the neighbors are complaining that the shades are drawn.

Man! How many times do I have to come in here and break up this romp of half clad women by hitting you all with fluffy pillows!? Sheesh.

The silence that followed the fallen's departure was profound. William let it linger a moment, careful to provide as much silence as words, understanding ever that funerals are for the living. After a time he continued. "As the Starboard 24 pounder was christened "Grace" by our departed Diego, we shall refer to it ever after as "His Grace", both in honor of our fallen companion and his faith in a higher power. Let it be remarked and let it each man and woman mark the change of it. And exercising my prerogative as Captain, I shall not send all of their belongings before the mast. The Monsignor's belongings are few and reflect a lifestyle of reflection and Jack's dunnage contains belongings that speak of a wider life with the possibility of relatives and friends beyond the Watch Dog, and I cannot sell what may be of greater value to others. However, I will auction up that small remainder of arms left by the Monsignor. Mister Pew." The Master-at-Arms brought forward a handful of arms that included 3 pistols, 1 blunderbuss, 3 knives, a cutlass and a boarding axe.

It had great accoustics.

I have writing, acting and directing credits in this... It was a fun project. The website is in disarray at the moment.

Nothing goes better with strawberries than eyeballs.

Yes. Baby strawberries. OH LOOK! GROOMSMEN!

Yes. La Verandaâs filet of salmon is dressed with mushrooms and spinach in a balsamic vinaigrette.

I now pronounce you Lunch and Dinner. mmm...

Great. Now I want some. To the horses!!

Yooo are halucinating. Ja. Have some pie.

Ja, ma name ist Sven.

Three words...glutton for punishment. Like Hawkyns, I packed just the necessary. The ground cloth went into the same canvas bag as the tent. As did the flag. Rope was coiled into the same bag and a collapsible canvas bucket capped off the top. Everything else went into bags and duffles. I ended up with two check-ins (Tent and suitcase) and one carry-on if you don't count my tricorn hat. The tent was heavy and unpleasant, but it looked great on site. Furniture was lent to us from the fort in the form of wood benches. We didn't cook on site, so we had no cookware or utensils. We borrowed the poles from two different vendors. People were very kind to us. It saved us buying poles. Now Patrick...wow...Patrick brought everything in one very compact and period kit. Check out pictures of his kit and you will find a beautiful and portable camp.

As the sails filled with wind the familiar lurch and roll of the deck gave William one of the few comforts of the day. The lulling of the Watch Dog was so familiar to him now that he hated being ashore at times. He had spent most of his life aboard ships and the sea had ever seemed a vast spread of possibilities to him. It was ever changing. It was malleable. It was hypnotic at times. It was oft times lonely in its expanse. He went to the middle of the quarterdeck and stood watching the crew in the execution of their duties. He enjoyed the holy ground. He found it as familiar as kings find parapets and civil servants Parliament. It implied power, but he understood it was trust. The crew relied on him to be exact. As Captain, his duties were many, but in the end he was to lead, direct, and in times of despair, strengthen. William stood alone rehearsing those words that would soon send off the dead and restore the living.