William Brand

Aboard the Watch Dog Ajayi had passed the night without much sleep, but hadn't minded the passing of it. He'd lain down but once and remained where he was all night, having noted how the woman he barely knew paced, muttered, halted, paced and revolved again through pantomimes of action. It had been disruptive, to be sure, especially in the confined spaces of the great cabin, but had come with explanations that Brand hadn't offered. For instance, her bruises spoke of a something beyond the passing of the Navarra, what with some of them too finger-like. Many of them were on one side, belying the use of a prominent hand. Her eyes were also too wide for shock to have lingered so long from the collision. But more than any of this, she seemed to have forgotten him entirely, and for his size, this spoke volumes. This last thing might have bothered someone else, but Ajayi was no stranger to attacks. He'd born them with a dignity rooted to deep to be rooted out and he understood that inward, focused shout of self-voices that came after a beating. So, without any more narrative than her appearance and agitation he'd kept himself still and pretended a sleep that never fully came. Instead, he'd thought of people, places, dates, all removed by leagues and time. He'd pondered on the ruin of a smile that would never be the same. He'd considered revenges and purpose, doubts and decision long into the night as the Steward's pacings came in waves. Three times the sea and her feet had almost lulled him to sleep, but he'd woken each time, careful to be quiet. Careful to not remind her that she'd forgotten him there. Careful for her sake, because the sake of others gave him something he hadn't owned for himself in years. Strength and purpose. He was glad of this needful, sleepless guarding when he woke. He was glad of the gifted knife still secreted beside him. He was glad that on waking, one of his pained, broken teeth had slipped it's moorings. He spat it out quietly with relief and smiled for the sunlight and blood. Two bright reminders of life.

But what I actually said was... "I just want to make it out alive". And from Michael... "I'll take the two ladies (or was it 'girls'?) and one other."

All. The. Things.

Stynky Tudor just hit the road!

If anyone would like to help out with some added items for the encampment and barracks, please let me know. We have a few items under $30 we'd like to secure as donation props to the fort. I have links for each item and they can be ordered and sent to the fort directly, or brought in by participants.

It's never too early.

Lot's of adaptation in planning these last few weeks. Here's to good weather and lots of conversation!

I just might! I'll let you know soon.

Yes.

There have been a lot of changes to the 'list' for the event, what with health, work and financial obligations of life interfering, but we still have a good number of first time attendees for the event and we're looking forward to meeting everyone next Friday. We're glad to report that even with the earlier arrival and departure changes, people coming in on Wednesday and Thursday have managed to find accommodations. As a reminder to everyone, the fort has asked that we be ready to move out of the fort when it closes on Sunday night, so please be prepared to pack up non-essentials in the late afternoon. We wish it could be a longer stay, but we're grateful for the time we're allowed.

I finally found my tent in one of the outbuildings on my property only to discover that a leak in the roof formed during the winter and let water in right on top of my tent. I was tempted to cut it up for a bag, but now I'm most tempted to fix the holes and bring it as is. It looks like period canvas that was stored poorly aboard ship and has been mended many times. Yes I know. I'm crazy and a nerd, but I'm still tempted to save it.

How much notice do you need to make a shirt for Massacre Island? I'm considering an upgrade.

I was surprised to find my two knives in good working order, as I've not used them for some time. I opened the box they've been stored in for the past few years expecting to find them laced with at least some rust. I'm not complaining, since the event is close and I need all the time I can to finish other things. There's something to be said for a knife that is well treated when made, so that it resists rust.