Pew

A canvas tarpaulin had been rigged in the waist to protect those necessary on deck. Preston stood facing the wind peering at the storm through squinted eyes. With his hands on the rail, it became hard to discern salt spray for that rain now attacking the crew on deck. The weather felt good to Preston. The rhythmic rise and dip of the Lucy in the storm made him feel whole again. He knew he wasn't quite right since the battle with the snow, but didn't know why. Preston needed a word with Dorian.

The mysterious man held the crew at bay as he lit a shaded lantern signaling the other ship to cease fire.

Preston could hear the rain begin to tap lightly on the stern windows. He awoke from an otherwise uneventful sleep. Drowsy still, and a tad of bowel discomfort led him to try and admonish both. IA brief stop at the galley to grab a last cup of something hot just before they went to dump the coals sounded like a cure-all for his ails. A lucky respite before all had been tossed found him with a lukewarm cup of coffee combined with a dash of his daily ration. He passed by many on their way to trim the sails in preparation for the evenings deluge. Preston made his way placidly back to the ward room in hopes of finding his captain there.

"On my side," the shadowy figure quipped as he stepped into the waist.

Silence fell across the deck save for the low rumble of thunder and a sudden musket report from the fo'c'stle.

The lieutenant grabbed Halward's arm quickly, turned his wrist and plunged the dagger deeply into Halward's thigh.

Excellent. . . .fermentation always brings out the best.

Bobstay now grabbed for the other, still in Fletcher's grip, with both of his hands.

He fell forward straight into the arms of Fletcher now wrestling for control of one of the pistols.

K. Here's where we are: "The blood pooled at his feet causing the deck to look eerily dark in the moonlight. He stooped and checked the body for any signs of life, knowing he would probably find none. But to his amazement, the man opened his eyes, grinned, and then attempted to stab him with a short knife. A quick kick to the ribs left the man writhing in pain. He drew his pistol, "How many more?" was all he said. Heavy breathing was now the only thing that could heard on deck. Unfortunately, the heavy breathing was from someone behind him. He spun to face the new adversary, but a sharp rap from a belaying pin across his wrist forced him to drop his weapon. He grabbed his wrist and swore an oath in pain. An unmasked expression of surprise shown in his features as he faced his adversary. "You, too, Bobstay?" he gasped. He sidestepped Bobstay as to not be caught in the middle of the two. "This is mutiny, you'll all hang!" he hissed. Their grinning expressions told him that mutiny was probably the whole point, and they didn't intend to hang for it. The Lieutennant heard the steel of the blade scraping on the side of a 9 pounder as its owner stood, and he wheeled again to ward off the attack, but now multiple men were on top of him, holding him down, weapons poised though not moving - as if these men who had so savagely turned upon him and the other officers just moments ago needed him alive, if only for a few more minutes. "Lieutenant Alister Thompson" Halward said his name with false amenity, "Good sir," feigned politeness slurred his words further clarifying his contempt for the officer "You possess something that we are in need of." "Be that as it may, I have no intention of giving in to your scurvy desires!" "Well then," said Halward, "I guess that puts us at a bit of an impass, don' it?" The second 'click' of a pistol lock was suddenly heard in the calm night air. Fletcher, who had been hiding behind the capstan, finally stood up, pointing his pistol at the mutineers, "This evens the odds a bit, don't it gents?" "Don't be fookin' stupid Fletcher, yer out manned, outgunned an'out classed." Bobstay growled. The glint in Fletcher's eye could only be seen when the lightning flashed overhead. Fletcher laughed, and pulled another gun from his belt, "So, Bobstay, who's outgunned by who, exactly?" The wind tugged hard against the partially unfurled sails, lightning flashed again and the thunder rumbled more quickly after than before. Tension grew as Fletcher squinted in the dark looking for other weapons in the crew before him; it was to Bobstay's left where he saw what he was looking for. It was a small keg of gunpowder, brought on deck before the battle which left so many dead had started." Cliff notes: I have no direction for this story. It twists and turns by each sentence. So far: Lieutenant Alister Thompson was the first character in the story. Lieutenant Alister Thompson and Fletcher are facing a mutiny led by Bobstay and Halward. A storms a brewin', quite metaphorically All good?

Tension grew as Fletcher squinted in the dark looking for other weapons in the crew before him; it was to Bobstay's left where he saw what he was looking for.

Lemme see what I can drum up. . .

Pew Michael Gunpowder Gertie Cap'n Mac Ransom Captain McCool Anyone else? Patrick? For those of you that have started, lets say we'll distribute an even ten cards so we can (hopefully) get a few more participants.

The glint in Fletcher's eye could only be seen when the lightning flashed overhead.

The second 'click' of a pistol lock was suddenly heard in the calm night air.

I didn't say this was the exact interpretation of each of these meanings. Just thought it was a fun way to explain som things. Ditty Box or Ditty Bag Possibly from the Saxon word dite, meaning tidy or from the English word dittis, a type of canvas material. A small box or bag in which a sailor kept his valuables such as letters, small souvenirs, and sewing supplies. Doldrums, In the Doldrums Between the tradewinds of the northern and southern hemisphere lies an area of calm winds, close to the equator, called the doldrums. Since sailing vessels relied upon the wind, a trip through the doldrums was often long, hot and boring. Down the hatch A toast that seems to have its origins in sea freight, where cargoes are lowered into the hatch. First used by seamen, it is thought to date from the 1930s and has been attributed to author P.G. Wodehouse. Dutch Courage Dates to the 1600s Anglo-Dutch wars and was likely British propaganda claiming that the Dutch troops were so cowardly they wouldn't fight unless fortified with copious amounts of schnapps. The term has come to mean false courage induced by drink, or the drink itself. Even Keel, Keeled Over A vessel that floats upright without list is said to be on an even keel and this term has come to mean calm and steady. A keel is like the backbone of the vessel, the lowest and principal centerline structural member running fore and aft. Keeled over (upside down) was a sailor's term for death. Fall Foul Of, Foul Up Foul is an often used nautical term generally meaning entangled or impeded. An anchor tangled in line or cable is said to be a foul anchor. A foul berth is caused by another vessel anchoring too close wherein the risk of collision exists. A foul bottom offers poor holding for anchors. A screw up! Fathom A nautical measure equal to six feet, used to measure the depth of water at sea. The word was also used to describe taking the measure or "to fathom" something. Today when one is trying to figure something out, they are trying to fathom it or get to the bottom of it.

He drew his pistol, "How many more?" was all he said. Heavy breathing was now the only thing that could heard on deck.

The starboard watch moved about in unison on the deck of the Lucy. Tightening, loosening, tying down, untying, mopping, sweeping; all mundane chores, but necessary evils. Jerrod Styles smiled to himself as he squinted in the waning light and watched the crew scamper about the deck. He leaned against his lookout high above the deck. Each passing moment he would continue his simple methodical pattern on watch: two points fine off the bow, on the bow, abeam, on the quarter, mark the distance of the Navarra, scan for the Watch Dog, on the quarter, fine on the quarter, astern, then continue along the weather side. He finished one revolution then gazed down at the ensign flying astern. Jerrod gauged their speed to be eight, perhaps nine knots and smiled. The fourth toll of the second dog watch continued across the deck. Jerrod looked down again and could see the lanterns being lit and hung out. He squinted back to the Navarra and saw her repeat the process. He sighed lightly and began his pattern again. Something caught his eye on the bow, low towards the horizon. Mister Styles peered ahead in the darkness and saw the ominous flash again. He called down to the deck for Mister Tucker. The bo'sun cupped his hands and called aloft. "STORM, SAH," Jerrod called back as he pointed ahead. Christopher Tucker walked slowly to the larboard rail and rested his hands on the rail. He waited a moment and saw two distinct flashes a minute apart. "Hmm. Headed this way 's well." He turned to Nate and Logan who had quietly joined him at the rail. "Gentlemen, clear the deck. Prepare for the storm."

But to his amazement, the man opened his eyes, grinned, and then attempted to stab him with a short knife. A quick kick to the ribs left the man writhing in pain.

A simple story. Just use the line of the writer above you and then incorporate your own. Just one sentence. Maybe we get a story going yet . . . The blood pooled at his feet causing the deck to look eerily dark in the moonlight.

^ That's m' gerl Now . . . a 40 oz of Olde English and a flask of Jameson . . . yeah, a little change up.

A 'Heavy Seas' Letter of Marque. A very good rye porter.

The guidelines as quoted from Ransom back in the first or second round... This time we will be aiming for a (to borrow from Sailor Jerry) "Stewed, Screwed and Tattooed" theme. Symbols of the harder side of living either at sea or ashore. Anything having to do with drink, tattooing or piercings. While tattoos may still be up for discussion as to being period correct( Tattoo thread ), this is strictly for fun. Think tankards, rum bottles, taverns signs, tattoo designs, small beer, large beer, etc. Please aim to have your cards ready and sent to me no later than July 1st. so I can sort them and send them back at close to the end of July (some may bleed over to the first few days of August because of the sometimes slow postal service). Who's in?

We don't really have any hard and fast rules about that. Usually someone says, "hey, how 'bout a _________ theme?" So I was thinking . . . well, new thread for this one . . . .