Capt. Sterling

"I was under the impression that Killingsworth, and any further difficulties he may promote, were, shall we say, put to rest?" Sterling said. He leaned back a pace as a tankard was placed before him. "Thank ye lass," he added, his eyes never leaving Striker. He took the pipe first and lit it with the soul candle in their midst. He took a deep draw and Aurore realized why he was smoking. She reached beneath the table and rested her hand against his thigh. "Aye, Mistress Devareaux is correct Sir. I would think tending to yer wounds would be of the utmost regard instead of worries of Master Killingsworth." He took another deep draw, wishing now, he could place his own hand covering the calming touch of his lover.

Paradise

A table was capture and group took their seating. Drinks were ordered and captains soon fell to debating as to who would foot the tab. Aurore watched as Sterling once again retreived pipe and tabacco. "Would you be so kind as to pack this for me, Chere?" he asked, his left arm once more hampered by annoyance of sling.

bliss

Sterling chuckled. "I could say the same 'bout pistol and shot, but then where would we be, slaves of some few and powerful?" He gently pulled Aurore closer to his side as they continued their way toward the Tavern. "We shall have you out of this rain soon enough Chere. I recommend a warm bath later perhaps," he added with another chuckle and a wicked grin.

"Hmmm, " Sterling mused a moment. "I would think most would at least be folks that I know of... if not I can heartly say the watchers are being watched. Perhaps ye would feel more up to a seat and a drink in the pub? My injuries be different, but I would be most grateful myself to get off of my feet. The Cheshire Cheese is close at hand, would that suit ye Sir?"

peaceful

take over

conspiracy

Heads will roll.

French Revolution

chaos

confusion

monster

I can completely agree with you here... and I believe you''ll never regret it in the long run. And always remember... once a Marine, always a Marine... no matter where you are.... Here! Here!

green

Yes, looks like a shoulder knot to me... and as for the steel hilt, tis possible. I have an original small sword with a steel hilt just a bit later than this painting... Hey were you able to blow the picture up without pixelating it to find out about the "stripes"? I honestly think they are supposed to be lines indicating gathers but would like to know what you discovered upon closer examination.... It would also be interesting to know whether or not, that brim of that hat is actually held in place with two buttons and a piece of cording??

And the leeche as well!

Sterling had been rude, staring down into the face of Mademoiselle Devareaux whilst he waited for a returning hail from the La Maligna. "I am sorry for how this day has developed so far, Chere. I fear it has not always been to yer liking. We shall find time to talk before this evening. I am certain it would be for the best of us. There are so many things I need to learn about ye, in order that I may make ye happy in yer new life." He reached and smoothed the palm of his glove against her cheek and cursed the leather that separated him from the feel of her. With no reply still forth coming, it was Hazzards that noticed the man that looked over the railing. "Off to fetch his captain, I hope, " Mr. March remarked. He shifted, uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Does not seem normal makin a social call in this sort of weather," he grumbled low. "Aye Mr. March but we have no other choice," Sterling replied through his teeth. It was a few moments longer before a gentleman, supported by cane and a lady made their appearance and slowly proceeded down to the docks. Sterling's eyes narrowed a bit. "I have seen the one before. The man in the back. If I remember correctly, he was with me earlier, the day I was shot," he whispered indicating Ioan. "The others I know not." Andrew March instantly straightened, there was more to his repositioning of himself than the attempt to look his best. "Thar seems to be a plague directed at ships' officers in this Port, " Hazzards commented. "First the Oxford, then Captain Sterling, and ... surely this man hasn't taken a tumble from the ratlines." Sterling and March looked briefly to Mr. Hazzards. "Mayhaps, Mr. Hazzards, " Sterling said before the captain of the La Maligna closed upon them. "Allow me to present myself," Sterling said addressing the others. "I be John Sterling, captain of The Archangel. This is Andrew March and Matthew Hazzards, my first and second lieutenants respectively." The three gentlemen of the 'Angel bowed. "Captain Sterling , nice to make your acquaintance," Striker said. Sterling gave a nod then raised his right hand slightly, Aurore moving to the foreground as he did. He was about to make the proper introductions regarding his beloved when Striker suddenly continued. "And Mistress McKinney I Presume." For a moment, Sterling choked. Completely taken unawares, he faltered, his eyes growing wide at the mistake. He felt Aurore squeeze his arm once more... the same reassuring pressure telling him it was all right. "No, I have the honour of presenting to you, my betrothed, Mademoiselle Aurore Devareaux of Port Royal, Jamaica."

Careful there Doctor... they tell me keel hauling be down right painful...

Screw ups

"Hail La Maligna," Hazzards shouted as the quartet soon came to a halt besides the great ship, the members of Le Cour having long vanished, blending into the background and positioning themselves in areas where they could be of the most help if the need occassioned itself. Sterling pulled Aurore close, his hand passing invisibly betwix them, pressing his Snaphaunce into her safe keeping beneath her cloak. "I have a feeling, Chere, that I need not explain how it works," he whispered. "Captain John Sterling and his Lady, have come to call upon Captain Striker!"

medicines

He walked steadfastly forward as if nothing were amiss. Everyone's pace was intent on reaching final destination without any further delay. And yet, when he felt her touch, his eyes filled with moisture which was quickly blinked away. Without breaking stride, he leaned down toward her and whispered for her ears alone. "My God, Chere, ye frighten me. I fear I will die if ever I should lose ye or yer respect."

Mathematics