Tempest Fitzgerald

Thank you, William...We appreciate your effort and kindness so much!! The group shot was taken this last season at Scarborough Faire in Waxahatchie, Texas. The three other gents in the shot are part of the crew we are signed on with on the Wayward Chyld. All are "ranked officers", our Capitaine is on the far right. The pic of Jack was taken in one of the many gardens at TRF, last season. Thank you again, William.

blunts

It would be a hard ride of twenty miles over land, a very demanding trek to be made with all haste. By all rights, a journey that would have been far faster with the hire of a local vessel, but that would mean witness of movement. Witness was not what was desired, these things should be managed with care and the idea of relying on an unknown and the aray of possibilities and complication that could call up was not something the Surgeon wished to throw into the mix. The adornments of finery were packed away into one of the leather bags hanging behind the saddles of both horses, deserted for the drab and undistractive travel clothing. The wide brim of hat shadowed the features of both she and the slender Frenchman who worked with precise attention to final inspection of both animals. She stood near, watching as Armand looked over the condition of each shod hoof, it would be a bad strike of luck to lose a shoe en route. Her mind played over her conversations with the Captain. This undertaking was not something of light nature and she considered the reasoning to involve herself. It was the Surgeon's respect for the red crowned man that allowed the offer to come forth. In her judgement, he was a stern yet fair man, of fine leadership qualities and a sense of compassion. Instinct told her it was a deserving effort, regardless of the difficulties that may be aroused. Armand rose from his task's completion and gave a nod to assert his approval. The Blue Roan danced in place, a difference of day and night to the placid Bay standing calmly at his side as she placed her right spur harnessed boot in the stirrup and swung over the saddle. The Chateau de la Dore' Soleil seemed a lifetime's journey away she thought as Armand gained the Bay's width. The Roan's ears swiveled backwards as the light pressure was applied to induce motion, the cobbled fortitude's walls rang the echo of shod strike as they moved under the doorway's arch to the open expanse beyond.

Dog Ends

//

The door is opened and Armand, seeing the Captain waiting on the otherside smiles welcome and steps to the side. "Bonjour, Capitaine...Please come in." In the further depths of the round chamber, the Surgeon pauses in the packing of a leather satchel and turns to view the visitor. "Good evening, sir. May I offer something to quench your thirst or a tidbit to eat? Please make yourself comfortable" She reaches into the satchel and removes a flat packet to William's view. "This will begin the stirring of events we had discussed previously..." The packet is replaced within the leather cover. "I am to assume that you spoke with Mister Lasseter and that is why you have come to intercept. You will forgive my boldness, but with the arising events of this day, I must ensure of this dispatch's departure to the proper hands. I shall also assume that there is a matter of which you are in need of my attention, otherwise you would not be here? What service may I do for you, sir?" She steps closer to the lamplit area around the table... ///The merchant ship which came into view so recently, has awakened us to the peril of staying so close to land. I mean to move the ship offshore presently and to put us at anchor there. ///(W.R.W.) " I had notion that could be the cause of such urgent stripping of the fortitude..." ///Do you mean to leave this very hour?///(W.R.W.) ///(notes the belongings)///(W.R.W.) "I must leave to make my destination on time, to in turn be back here without hinderance to your plans. If you find need to take the Watch Dog from her current resting place in my absence, please do not hesitate to do so. If that should be the case, there is an isle not far from here called Blanc Requin...or White Shark by the English tongue...I can be there in a fortnight and will awaite you there on the westerly shore. I doubt that should be of necessity...though things happen." Silence hangs the air as she reaches for the goblet of porter waiting where it had been placed earlier. Taking a draught, her focus returns to the Captain. //You will go armed of course and with Armand? //(W.R.W.) She watches him closely, noting the slight hint of concern. "Armand is qualified to handle minor medical procedures and I can leave him to attend in my absence or he will accompany me. That choice is yours to make." A sly smile rolls over the delicately hewn features "William...shurly you have not forgotten Dorian and I's little melee' on the Watch Dog? I was having an easy go on myself...I was playing, as it were..." The smile deepens... "I am faster under demand and more accurate..., " She winks with a chuckle. "And my marksmanship surpasses my skill with a blade. My father taught me well."

The Delicate Sound of Thunder

Ah, Ms. Tempest... Nay, we be stayin' 'ere presently... all work on the hull be done, so's we gonna make ready all the arms aboard, rehoist th' masts an such... *With a nod of assent* Very well then, Mister Lasseter... I am in need of leaving the encampment on urgent affaires, but should have no problems with a return by the change of tide. I have not seen the Captain since this blustering cropped up, if he should need my attention, I shall be in the tower for a short time. A short time, mark you, then I must depart.

//

* Approaching the Quartermaster* Mister Lasseter, a moment of your time. Do my ears play me fool or am I to believe that the ship is to depart in a quickened amount of time frame?

Chairman of the Board

Celestial Hierarchy

seraphim

You can hear the angles sing.

Sea of Cortez

With Armand's return, the Sugeon left the temporary lodgings to inspect the horses that he had returned with. With an educated touch, she ran her hands over the muscle and sinew of the Blue Roan. A careful eye gleening judgement of the proudly arched neck and occassional dance of hoof. "Magnifique, mon ami...You were always a good judge of equine flesh. I think this shall offer respectable presentation. Merci beaucoup!" Voices carrying over the water's surface disrupt her inspection and looking in the direction of the cove's mouth, notice is taken of the ship's now righted stance. Closer observation reveals several member's of the crew intent on some object blocked from her view by the Watch Dog's stern. A restlesness stirs inwardly with the inability to figure what is causing the apparent aggitaion on deck. With a sidelong glance to Armand... "Please attend to the refreshment of these noble beasts. Judging from the current stance of the ship, I shall need attend to the erand at hand before the turning of this day to the next..." A crease forms upon the delicate browline as she continues to look towards the sea beyond.

( I remember them...Twas a teenybopper back in those days) "Fortress Around Your Heart" ( Sting)

"Our House"

A sheen of lather foamed on the flanks of the two mounts procured in town. Astride the Bay of distinct Spanish lines, Armand led the second of Blue Roan tint back down the rut of dirt road to the encampment and fortitude. The coverage of tall palm did its best to lend shielding against the climb of sun overhead, but the overgrowth of native plants bordering the path on either side hindered the passage of any cooling breeze. Sighting the familiar form of the Ship's cook approaching from the opposit direction, he slowed the horses speed and in passing her, doffed his hat in respect. Rounding the final curve of shade and into the full glare of sun, he dismounted to lead the horses the final distance to the fortitude on foot.

"Flight Log" (By Jefferson Airplane)

My hat off to you, Mad Jack. Now to play a turn off Rumba's : "Acid Rock" Blue Cheer

Like that cat is square, daddy-o...

"Square Grouper" Run

The blackness of ink dried sluggishly upon the surface of well crafted parchemant, as the Surgeon sipped from the coffee's offer of strong tinged flavor. Inspecting the contents scribed with satisfaction, she wondered as to the time that it would take to resolve what the letter's content announced... There was still a distinguished amount of weight to the name Bertrand, regardless of the ill doings of the past. Her grandfather was an outspoken gentleman of title and estate, though lack of opinion supression had gained ill favor to the ears and patience of Louis Xlll in 1640. A continual brandishing of views regarding the treatment of the common people of France and the Crown's responsibilities to its subjects, no matter their rank or station. These announcments were unsettling to courtier's ears as they drifted from the South to Paris and there were those that were seeing some truth to what was being related. With the louder and bolder proclaimations that had evolved over the years, Louis had grown weary and dispatched orders to have the crowing Gasconian Marquis stripped of title, lands and imprisoned. The King would never admit to the inner fear of the rousings of such condemnation regarding his rule of the lands, but these orders of action should quell any further thoughts on the matter. The dictation was carried out in the late hours of the night and witnessed to the horror of her father who stood frozen on a footpath, returning from a secret rendezvous in town with a local girl. Helpless to the near goings on, he had backed further into the shelter of trees to see the man he called father dragged from the family chateau's great doorway in chains by a regiment of horseman in Royal colors. The elder Bertrand rough handled into an awaiting carriage while a letter of Royal Proclaimation was nailed to the large open doors. He was never seen by light of sun again... But, there had been sympathisers to the grave injustice, though unable to offer aid at the time of ocurances. And to these she would turn, for some existed in the Antilles. Their were men who knew her grandfather, who knew the grievances and betrayals of history and if that were not enough, there were some in particular that owed favor in regard to the fact that her constant companion was still of ability to walk this earth alive. The ink dried, the Surgeon gave one last glance to the name listed at the paperment's top the placed it within the dispatch envelope, sealing it securely with the family crest in wax. Standing up to stretch the tightening of muscle, she placed the messege in a secure place before steping into the courtyard and new day's light.

Jimmy Buffett "Defying Gravity"