Capt. Sterling

sore feet

Welcome aboard Saltypots! Folks over in Captain Twill take a keen interest in all things historical, and if ye can help out in their quest to find the perfect dishes and mugs for the GAoP then ye can work on yer pottery interest there as well as making mates around the other areas of the pub. I'll be thankin ye for a glass of fine Port. Again, welcome to the pub!~

But as Sterling made his way into the close confines of the inn, it was all too evident to his first officer that something was amiss. Yes, Andrew March could see that his captain was truly enamored of the young beauty on his arm, but who was leading whom? March looked across at the lady and would have taken her hand during his introduction, but a quick glance in her eyes told him he should not dare. It was with some haste then, that March removed his hat and bowed as well as he could in the cramped quarters to Sterling and Mistress Devareaux. His eye then moved quickly over the younger man who followed closely in the couple’s wake. Surely this was the man behind Le Cour and the man to whom March felt himself indebted for the safe return of his captain…. And friend. March leaned in quickly to Hazzards as the second officer replaced his own hat upon his carrot colored locks. “Make way and with haste,” March whispered for Hazzards’ hearing only. “We needs be gettin the Captain upstairs to his rooms. Clear the way fer him.” “Captain,” March said, growing more concerned. “I have seen to a late supper bein laid in yer rooms. Ye best make yer way afore it grows cold and tis no longer to the likin of yer lady.” “Supper? What…” Symms grumbled in astonishment before Hazzards clapped his hand over the old man’s mouth. Sterling’s eyes locked a moment with his first officer’s. “Aye Mr. March tis thoughtful of ye indeed. Come join us.” Immediately the small knot began their way, men still pressing about, toasts being offered with good wishes abounding. Hazzards shoved the old steward ahead of him as they made their way up the steps. Sterling allowed Aurore to ascend before him. She hesitated only a moment before she allowed him to follow, knowing Sabastian followed upon her lover’s heels. As they were ushered down the hall, two sailors snapped to attention outside the captain’s door. Symms swung the door open and Aurore was the first to enter. Sterling entered after her, one of the sailors offering a welcome home as he passed. As the others entered the door was closed quietly behind them. Sterling turned to his first officer. “Is that necessary?” he asked regarding the guard at the door. “I think so,” March replied. “And there are others outside as well although not as obvious.” Sterling frowned for a moment, not wishing to be the cause of so much worry. “Aye then, well done Mr. March. Mr. Hazzards. Mr. March if ye would be so kind as to send word to Captain Striker, that I have arrived back in the Port and wish to have him call upon me as soon as I have had a bit of rest. The ride in, I fear…” It was Sabastian who caught him as he blacked out.

A proper gun case works well for both muskets and swords... I have never had a problem traveling with weapons to and from the UK. Just check with the NRA as to which airlines are NOT gun hostile... them that are have a funny way of making things disappear....

ain't no friend o'mine

Dream on boy!

dance

How can I NOT like that brown coat!!! Well done!!!

baited breath

As they rode on the noise and dim lights of candles spied in windows still open to allow for sea breezes, soon came into view. Sterling straightened at first sight of fellow human moving carelessly about the streets. Soon more and more people milled about. The hour grew late and yet now was the time for Port Royal to truly come to life. The din grew louder and the crowds soon massed about as drunks staggered from pub to pub, scavenging for drinks. The night watch waded quickly through the press as if to be able to say “there we have done our duty for the eve, tis now we can go and rest our own heads some wheres safe.” Music floated on the air, but the several differing strains from the local establishments were in direct contrast to one another making nothing more than annoying reverberation lacking any appeal to the senses. The whores too were on the prey, both Sabastian and Sterling called to almost continuously as they rounded the corner to The Three Crownes. It was only then Sterling breathed a sigh of relief and perked up as someone hailed him with a shout that the captain had once again come onboard. He saw someone take to their heels and run ahead of the carriage, but then lost sight of him. As the vehicle finally came to a halt outside The Three Crownes, Sabastian glanced briefly at his companion. “A bit further, mon ami,” he whispered in encouragement. “I see now the wisdom behind all this agony you have put yourself through,” he added as a large number of the Archangel’s crewmen quickly began to spill forth from the Crownes’ barroom, glasses raised to Sterling, huzzahs at his safe return far surmounting the rest of the clamor. “Aye, they think me well enough,” he said. “My officers know how to mind their tongues. Perhaps we shall flush out our quarry sooner than we hope.” Sterling took one more deep breath, then allowed the reins to drop and brought his right leg up and over his mount's neck then dropped to the ground. Sabastian dismounted and handed over both horses to one of the crew, all too eager to help. He pressed close to the captain trying to protect him from the swarm of well wishers as Sterling made his way to the door of the carriage. "Tis good to be back amongst ye Lads!" Sterling shouted. "Now give me a path as it will not do to crush the young lady within." With a bit of flourish, produced with much effort to cover the strain, he unlatched the carriage door and held out his hand to Aurore. She emerged slowly, unsure of his actions, but took the hand he offered and made her way down the steps to the cobble stones. "Lads, tis my pleasure to introduce to ye Mistress Aurore Devareaux... my betrothed." If the men had been pleased to see him return, the cheer that rang out at his news was even more overwhelming. Sterling turned and looked down at Aurore, the smile on his face was surely the most sincere and proudest she had ever witnessed. "Come along my dear," he whispered but as she took his arm, it was she that bore the burden of his weight as they made their way through the throng of well wishers.

wages

Welcome to the pub Lass! A Tawny Port if ye please....so, with yer Playgirl photo, do we all need be wary of yer uncles then?

10%

Glory and Terror

Sterling paced back and forth trying to catch his breath, craddling his left arm close to his chest. Sabastian hovering close, like a fine mare watching her foal struggle upward upon long, spindly legs as it tried to gain its freedom to roam. As the captain finally made his way toward Sabastian’s horse, he suddenly realized how foolish his idea was, he could not even gather up the reins in his left hand in order to mount. “A leg up?” Sabastian offered. “Aye, it must be so,” Sterling agreed, grasping the front of the saddle firmly with his right hand. Sabastian bent and took hold of the other’s knee and ankle. “Say when.” Sterling took several deep breaths, then with a nod of his head, he felt himself lifted, he easily turned his right leg over the cantle but gasped hard as he lowered himself into place. He slumped forward, the stars he saw, having nothing to do with the lights in the sky that were currently cloud covered. He felt one of Sabastian’s hands pushing his left leg hard into place, holding him steady, the other grabbing his coat by the small of his back. “Are you all right?” Devareaux whispered, although Aurore had watched the entire time from the darkness of the vehicle. “Aye,” Sterling muttered a second later. It was several more seconds before he finally gathered up the reins in his right hand. He looked down at the other man. “Boot to boot then?” he asked, using the old cavalry term. Sabastian nodded his head, released his grip then backed off for the other mount. Delaney gave one finally pat to each of the grays, then reclaimed his perch in the box. Aurore watched Sterling until her brother rode up upon the captain’s right side and then she quickly lost sight of him as the carriage finally commenced the last leg of their trip and the two men fell in behind at a walk.

Welcome to the pub! Tell me is Strongbow still available? If not I will take my usual Port. Chatham Dockyard... its been too long...

“Merci, Chere, ye are a great comfort to me,” he sighed, then closed his eyes, trying not to concentrate on the bouncing vehicle. He thought he had actually drifted off for a bit for when he opened his eyes, the carriage finally began to slow and then came to a halt, the grays blowing hard, their harness jingling like tiny bells as one shook his relief and the other pawed the muck about him in his wish to continue on to a nice dry stable. Delaney quieted his tired pair, then leapt from the box to give them both a moments peace and a loving pat in reward for their great efforts. Sabastian too, took the opportunity to dismount, knowing all too well, he would be needed to help Sterling into the saddle. As the carriage door opened, Sterling was already sitting upright, his face drawn and ghostlike as he thanked Aurore for her handkerchief and dried his face. “Only a few moments more Chere and we shall be at The Three Crownes and then I promise I will to bed,” he said, the forced smile all too unconvincing that he was fit enough to carry out his ploy. “May I?” he asked, folding the simple linen fabric, her initial embroidered upon one corner, and gesturing to tuck it safely away in the cuff of his left glove.

So far VERY nice!

heads

“C'est bon entendre. Je ne vous ai jamais pensé faible ma chere dame,” Sterling replied. “If ye are able to put up with me, surely ye can face any challenge.”

Formal Tux

Zebra

He listened to her words as the carriage jostled along, an occasional whistle from Delaney to his team, encouraging them to keep to their task. She had obviously led a very sheltered life and in a way he was glad of it and yet a new concern was brought to mind by what she had said. How on earth would she ever fit in if they were ever to return to England to settle? Part of him was unaffected by such a worry, surely he himself did not fit in there and yet he managed to hold his own. Certainly she, gifted with intelligence, beauty, and charm, would soon rule over many hearts in his company. And yet he did not wish for her to be uncomfortable about the world he would soon force her into. For a second the carriage stuck fast, then jerked upward and forward with a crash as it regained its claim on the earth. "Are ye up then to face the challenge of yer new life to come?" he whispered through clenched teeth.

A number of the Archangel's crewe hail from both Ill. and WI... if you would be interested in making yourself known to us, we will be at the Reenactor's Festival II in Feb. 2007, in Arlington Heights, just outside of Chicago. We are a more of a Living History pyrate group, not the Ren. Faire type but we do enjoy going to the faires and we can turn a very serious demo, completely on its ear when the crowd calls for it... so if The Archangel may be the Ship for you, just drop us an email or pm.

exotic