Bloody Bill Flint

If someone would be so kind as to tell me how I post a pic on here I'll gladly share my arms.

"Je demande pardon, It was not my intent to insinuate a lack of capability on your part, but thank you for hearing me out. If it is feasible I should like to take Nathan to the weather deck tomorrow for some air, ca va?

Bill smiled again and sipped his drink. "My reasons are many Doctor Fitzgerald. Certainly not the least of which being yet another inquiry of Nathan's condition. Secondly I came to offer my services anytime Raphael is unavailable, I'm no doctor but I have set my share of bones and been known to sew a wound or two. Lastly I came to warn you, The Captain is going to offer Jonas his freedom. I'm not entirely sure what the man is capable of but he did truck with that vile little serpent Gaultier, so please humor me and take great care around him. And now I believe I've taken quite enough of your time, so I shall be on my way. Jusqu'à la prochaine fois mon ami."

Billy having been giving his leave arrived at the infirmary a few moments ahead of Capitaine Hollande. He had grown to trust the lady doctor and her magical touch which had brought his dearest friend from the very brink of death. He greeted her with a warm smile. Touching his fingers to his brow he spoke. "Le bon Médecin de Madame du soir, réussit comment notre malade préféré ? " Then noticing the ship wrecked women he remembered his manners. "Forgive me mistresses I meant no interruption." Turning back to the ship's surgeon "Je demande pardon Fitzgerald de Médecin, je vous ai attrapé à un moment inopportun ? "

Flint chuckled. "Indeed, the great war chief 'Ongeswasgone' often wondered of me why The Great White Father across The Sea put so much value in land when dirt is not what fills ones belly." Bill laughed heartily. Bill picked up The Bard's Tome and pursed his lips then allowed another small sound of mirth to escape. "I fear any attempt to introduce Mister Bly to some culture will be met with his insistense that the whole crew be made to do likewise, however I should like to borrow this for my own enjoyment for a bit". "If you have nothing else that requires immediate attention my captain then I would take my leave of you." "I hope that Mr. McCormick will see the value in staying on for a bit and that our musters woes will soon be put to rest.".Bill's smile grew a bit broader "O that we now had here But one ten thousand of those men in England That do no work to-day! " * *From Shakespeares Henry V

For the second time since he had met Captain Brand, Bill smiled. He finally felt comfortable enough to drop the pretext of being an uneducated common sailor and the rough manner of speech he had adopted to survive aboard the ships of the line after the night that press gang had accosted him. "Ah, The Bard." His smile beamed a little brighter. "Unfortunately for the good folk of Deerfield the Huron and Acadians cared little for the ground on which the town sat so much as they cared bloody murder and the supplies in the larders."

Redlegs took another sip then answered his captain. "Not that a colonist such as meself gives two shillings what the powers that be do to each other in the old world, but it's the same old rope as it was a year ago. King Frenchie be dead and the Spanich King says his gran' son Philip be the rightful heir. The Englich fear a contract 'twixt France and Spain so's they suports Leupold." Bill turned towards the great window at the rear of the ship staring out at the waves and finished his drink. "Even now all their blasted to do finds it way across the sea to bring blight upon the colonies." he muttered.

The swiftness with which Mr. Flint's mood darkened was almost palpable in the room. For a moment it seemed as if the candles grew a touch dimmer. His mouth set in a grim line and his brows came together like the two pillars of rock that had threatened the Argo in that long ago search for the fleece. "If it be my decision I say over the side wit 'im and leave him fer the sharks" He pronouced the word charks with the second syllable sounding more like a drawn out growl than actual letters. "But," he ammended "I figures I dun worse than the likes o' him". "If'n he'll agree te serve ye I promise no harm'll come te him, on that ye have me word Cap'n". "As fer if'n he will, hard te say it be. He be a right goodnavigator n' a sharp eyed look out as any, useless in a boardin', ....ah listen te me carryin' on like an old biddie, I'd say he'd proly do jes' te get out o' that cable tier."

Bill Flint was staring intently at the shore line scanning for any signs of unatural goings on, for a moment he hearkend back to that night of his youth so long ago along the Black River north of Salem. There had been at least a hundred war parties in the woods that night, Huron and Mohawk. The men hunting each other in earnest. The great war leader Ongeswasgone had taught Billy many of the lessons that would save his life that night. The one that mattered most was the proverb Ongeswasgone often repeated while they hunted "The Sun will lie to you, but the Moon always tells the truth". Bill had always wondered at it's meaning until that night. His party was lurking down a game trail when he suddenly felt eyes upon him, looking at a hedgerow he realized it's shadow was far too large for it's size and the positon of the moon. Firing his musket into the bushes he was ready rewarded with a cry and a gurgling noise as a Huron warrior stumbled forward clutching his neck. The rest of the Mohawks quickly followed suit and avoided the ambush the enemy had laid for them. Bill shook himself from his thoughts and found his watch at an end. Remembering Captain Brand wanted to see him he hurried to the armoury oiled and turned in his musket and proceeded to the ward room. He knocked at the door and remained outside until bidden to enter. When the command came he walked smartly inside removing his cap and saluted. "Ye be wantin' te see me Cap'n?"

As Bill and Eric took their positions along the deck Bill turned to his friend. "Perhaps t'd be best if'n we supervise the oilin' betwixt watches. Swap out every shift, what say ye?". Franklin paused for a long moment before turning and clapping a hand on Flint's shoulder. "Look mate, I know yer looking to prove yerself aboard the Dog but ye needn't fret so much about it, the lad's are more'n capable of seein' to it themselves." "'Sides mate ye've accounted fairly well fer yerself minus yer little dust up with that McCormick fella, but even so yer not entirely ta blame. Pew's startin' ta come around to ye I think, and the Cap'n appoints himself the judge of no man. You jes keep on bein' handy and you'll more'n earn yer keep." The two men exchanged a smile and went about their duties.

Eric Franklin quickly appraised his friend of the situation. Bill Flint turned and laid one broad paw on Mr. Pew's shoulder. " Mr. Pew, sar I believe I could be of service if'n I hads a musket, what say ye?"

Thunder.....no, GUNS! Bill woke with a start, spilling from his hammock and for the moment believed himself aboard the Dreadnaught. Fastening his shirt as he roared into the passageway he bellowed so even the dead could hear "MARINES! TO ARMS! WE BE UNDER ATTACK LADS, GRAB YER MUSKETS AND TO YER PERCHES WIT YE, OFFICERS AND GUNNERS BE THE ORDER OF THE DAY!" He had nearly made it to the weather deck when he sheepishly realized where he was. Though he burned with shame he realized he had none the less not dreamt the cannon fire and continued on to make himself useful. When he arrived above deck he saw that most of the crew was pressed upon the rails. There seemed to be no cause for all the excitement, certainly not the thrum of battle but yet all hands were murmuring amongst themselves. Bill spied his friend Eric Franklin and sought his knowledge of the present situation. "What be all the fuss about mate?" Bill said slapping him on the shoulder.

Bill and Nathan sat and conversed for a time in the the Iroquois tounge. Not out of some desire to keep secrets from the company but because they both had spent a great deal of time amongst the people of the Five Great Nations, Bill with the Mohawks and Nathan the Tuscarora, and the two men simply found the language quite pleasant to the ears. It was suggested that after a bit more rest Nathan should visit the weather deck and recieve some fresh air. Bill thought this a grand idea and agreed to make it so. He bid his farwells to Nathan and then sought his hammock as ordered by Captain Brand.

Bill was taken aback slightly by the command, but knew better than to argue. "Aye sar" he replied, and knuckled his brow. He turned sharply on his heal and headed below deck. On his way to the berths he decided to pop into the surgery and see about Nathan before seeking his hammock.

"Ye have me thanks sar" Bill said with a nod. "Nathan'll do ye proud once he be fit fer duty, he be a good marine and what he lacks he make up fer wit talent." Bill paused for a moment staring out at sea and taking in the sights before him. He couldn't wait to see the islands they were making for, the wonder of new lands to behold never failed to impress him. Taking a quick inhalation through his nose to enjoy the wonderful smells of the sea he spoke."If'n I may have yer leave Cap'n I'd best return to me duties."

Bill arrived on deck, inhaling deeply as he stretched his arms and back. He had just set about looking for where he could lend a hand or two when heard his name being called above the din. Turning to the source of the summons he spied the Bosun, Badger, Bill recalled his name was, motioning him to lay aft. Bill nodded vigorously to convey his acknowledgement of Mr. Badger and made for the quarter deck.

Bill retired to his cot but had difficulty finding sleep. He tossed and turned, his mind reminding him of all that had befallen The Dreadnaught and Henry Walcott's fate. He resigned himself to sleep later and proceeded to the deck to find work.

Aye, but drink n' board we figures that were okay

Bill Flint and Eric Franklin stood with the assembled sailors eyeing the pile of arms before them. "Well lads", piped Bill cracking a wide grin," Let's be about it then, the day grows short not longer if'n I not be mistaken" . The assembled crewmen mumbled assent and set about their given task. Bill and Eric instructing proper technique to hone the keenest edge to a blade. The small swords and cutlasses were finished easily enough. The boarding axes posed a problem for a few of the men but Bill was quick to share his knowledge and help them on their way. The entire time Bill personally laid hands on every firearm in the room checking lock, stock and barrel for minute cracks, loose furniture, or any of the other myriad of signs that the weapons were unserviceable, all the while instructing the less knowledgeable in these techniques as well as setting aside any pistol or musket he felt would require his ministrations. As the hours willed by Eric and Bill talk and grew to like one another and soon were carrying on like long lost ship mates. Finally the task was done and Bill shook each of the men's hands thanking them for their hard work then he gathered up the few arms he found unfit and headed for the blacksmiths to set about repairs.

As Bill and Mr. Pew proceeded to the armory Redlegs made the Master-at-Arms privvy to his gun smithing skills. "I've spoken wit bot' tha cooper n' tha smithy n' they be possessed of all we need te repair er fancy up what we's gots aboard already. Special cast moldings be required te make our own barrels, 'specially turn barrels. I kin try me hand at makin' barrels wit out 'em if'n ye like but I be havin' te insist that any arms made from scratch not be handed out til I've tested 'em me self. I kin easily convert some o' our existin' stock to turn barrels, which I highly recommends as it reloads faster and be lighter to carry durin' a boardin' than a brace. Tho' it not be a meth'd wit out it's draw backs. If'n ye ain't keerful ye kin dump yer load rather easy like, but still the technique's not wit out it's merits. Ah, listen te me prattlin' on, I said enough, what be this project ye've got fer me?"

Seeing that Mr. Pew had come above deck Bill handed the log line off to his replacement. "Mr. Pew terrible sorry te interrupt yer game sar, but I be wantin' te make ye awares that I be trained as a gunsmith in addition to me other talents and Mr. Bly has enough smarts te assist me. Mind ye we can't make fresh arms from scratch wit out the proper tools, but the blacksmith n' the cooper be possessed of all we need te repair er improve what already be aboard, and any time ye've need o' us we be at yer service, same fer Mr. Franklin."

Let's see, as far as rum goes, me faves are Gosling's Black Seal and Pusser's Navy Rum. As for beer I love Guiness and anything from the Stone Brewing Company, but I highly recommend their Arrogant Bastard Ale. Another that piqued my interest lately is the Capistrano Brewing Company and their Bayhawk Porter.

Upon returning to the Watch Dog Bill learned that the spy Gaultier was dead and that they were to make sail immediately. Bill did not ask after Henry Walcott knowing that if the man's release had been secured word would have been given of it. He looked sadly at the cost line of La Margarita and whispered a silent prayer for the man. Having returned Nathan and the traitor McCormick to the surgery he felt it was time to do what he did best and immediately sought to make himself and his considerable talents available to Mr. Pew.

Most likely it is Christine. Capitain Sebastian the Black (the head pirate who also doubles as the court magician during the pre-show) is one well turned out pirate, but Petee's right the rest of the pirates are more Pirates of Penzance than Pirates of the Spanish Main, probably because they need costumes that are easy to move in due to all the aerial stunts in the show.

Gaultier smiled a shark's smile. "Merci beaucoup, bon Capitaine" The moment was at last at hand, Robespierre couldn't help but thrill at the chase. Danger was thick in the air, warming Gaultiers skin like a flame and he relished it. Time to put his skill to the test. Still wearing his flesh eating grin he turned to the privateer captain. "At your convenience Capitaine Hollande"