Rateye

A wealth of knowledge you are Sir! If I may inquire, which would you suggest as a must for a good starter kit? My thanks again R

Much thanks Mr. Lassiter! This will surely be a very good start... Could I also trouble you to inquire if you know of a vendor or maker of PC instrumentations that might be used in the pursuit of wellness. Again I am very grateful for your assistance. R

Afternoon all! As some of you may have noticed, I've become something of a doctor on the RabbleRousing in Port Royal. Thanks to the assistance of the generous Capt. Sterling, information for treating malaria was quickly afforded to me, thereby allowing me to save said captain's life. Now, to all in the know, I ask politely for any information on remedies, surgeries, accutrements or practices used by doctors, surgeons, shamons and or medicine men during the time of which we enjoy. I would also be interested to see if there are any within this region that have taken the persona of a ship's cutter. I'll be grateful for yer assistance, and will surely talk ill of ye that much less. Here's to ya! Rats

"That I will Mr. Hazzards." I say as I give a nod of appreciation. "But I believe this will be the first time I've ever broken in to return something. " "I'll also be headed back to check on the captain then. I'll also tell Mr. Symms you're faring well." "And Mr. Hazzards... Thanks again!"

As I spot the man Hazzards, I can't help but feel relieved that the scrapper hadn't been murdered by the riff-raff that set upon me earlier that night. But noticing the night watchman alongside him, I couldn't help but wish for an opportunity to escape. However, to my astonishment, this man, this unbelieviably heroic bastard known as Hazzards, not only keeps my warrant in confidence, but also offers me the position as surgeon for the Archangel. "In that case, Mr. Hazzards. It would be my honor..." I say as I pick up step beside him. "Jacob Reiley, Ship's doctor... By God, who would have ever thought...?"

"No thanks'll be needed friend." Replied Reiley as he shook the old stewarts hand. "Your man Hazzards saved me life not once, but twice. Now if I can find him in good health, we'll be square. You'll be seeing me again." Then racing down the back stairs, Reiley made all haste to street where he had last seen Mr. Hazzards. Then slowing to a quick walk, Reiley cautiously scanned the area for any sign of Mr. Hazzards or the riff-raff he fought with during the hours prior.

"Well sir.." Sighed Reiley. "I'll make no promases as to the result. But I will say this,.. Bad as it was, I strongly doubt that anyone who has lived through as much as he, will allow a mere auge to finish him." "By the way Mr. Symms." Added Reiley as he stood and again donned his coat and hat. "What you told me in confidence about the captain... It will be kept as such. You have my word. But in the meanwhile I fear that Mr. Hazzards has fallen into trouble." Rummaging through his bag of stolen items from Dr. Easterly's house, Reiley found the second dueling pistol and tucked it under his jacket. "There's enough of that brew for the rest of the day. And with any luck I'll be back with Mr. Hazzards before long. But while tending to your captain, and as I said before, if the water looks or tastes of filth..." "Yes, yes, I'll not be wanting to use it, less the boy had er boilin'." Answered Symms

During the next few hours Reiley attempted to treat the captain with a series of remedies which included blood-letting and also bell-burning. Following this grueling treatment Reiley mixed together a combination of rose leaves, lemon juice, wine and Peruvian bark, thereby making a remedy known a cinchona, which was often used to treat auges and fevers. This remedy was then administered to the captain through out the night. As the morning birds could be heard outside the window, Reiley and Symms were both exhausted from tending to the captain. "Is that all you can do for me captain, lad?" Asked Symms as he slowly flopped into a chair. "Are you a religious man, Mr. Symms??" answered Reiley.

Following a mad dash to the home of Doctor Easterly, Reiley collected the various medicines and assorted instruments for treating the captain. "What do you need of me?" Huffed Hazzards as he tried to catch his breath. "Here, fill this pillow case with the bandages in that small cupboard." snapped Reiley. "He'll need clean dressing for when we bleed him." After collecting a wooden case of various medicines and ointments, Reiley took to filling a leather traveling bag with an ungodly array of surgen's tools. "C-mon boy-o!" Urged Reiley, as he slunging the bag and case across his person. "No time to waste!" But as Reiley and Hazzards quickend into the street, a pistol shot shattered the lamp that was hanging above door. "There they are lads!" Yells the street tough Hazzards had scared off earlier in the day. Only now he was accompanied by three other hooligans. Ducking back into the doctor's home. Hazzards and Reiley crouch behind the doorway. "This is the kind of distration we really cannot afford!" Spits Reiley as he drew his pistol. "Go then!" yelled Hazzards as he drew his own pistol. "I'll be staying here to keep em busy!" Then grabbing Reiley by the arm, "You owe me mate! Don't you be letting me down!" "I'll meet you there then!" nodded Reiley as he handed Hazzards his pistol, then darted out the back door with the much needed cargo. Running like a man possessed, he could hear the gunshots echo down the alleyway. Then as he raced to the tavern and up the back stairs, he frantically pushed through the assortment of harlots and drunkards. Eventually bursting into the captain's chambers, Reiley began preparing the tools and instruments needed to tend to the captain. It appeared that in his weakened state, the captain had fallen asleep. "How is he, then?" questioned Reiley, again rolling up his sleeves. "Where's Mr. Hazzards?!" Demanded Symms. "He'll be with us shortly... I hope!" replied Reiley as he arranged the various blades necessary for bleeding. "You'll also need to be stoking that fire, Mr. Symms! We'll be burning the bells tonight!"

Following his assessment Reiley was sure the captain was suffering with a severe case of malaria. But without medicines and proper instruments there was no way he would be able to treat this man. "Right! Here's what will happen, have plenty of clean water brought up! If it looks or tastes like filth, have the boy down stairs boil it first. While I'm gone, you'll force it down his hatch if you need to." "Now see here! Interrupted Sterling, only to be held back by Symms. "If you think you're going anywhere mate!" Threatened Hazzards. "I am." interrupted Reiley. "And you'll be going with me! We have no time boy-O! There is but one place with the instruments and medicines I need and therefore WE will be going back to the house of Dr. Easterly." "Onless of coarse you wish me to work miracles with what we have here." Snapped Reiley as he pawed the pistol barrel out of his way. "Oh look," He continued. "we have a bedpan! Surley this man will be saved...!" Taking a long hard look into Reiley's eyes, Hazzards leaned forward, "You owe me mate... If you try to slip out and my captain dies, there isn't a place in hell you'll be able to hide from me." "Well then you'll be wise to keep up, my friend." Grinned Rieley, as he donned his jacket and hat. "Becasuse we havn't much time to lose."

To his surprise, Rieley had been hurried by the man Hazzards to the room of the very Captain Sterling of which he had talked so highly of. But more surprising was the inclusion of Hazzards' pistol, that insisted upon his full cooperation. It was obvious the Captain was suffering with a horrible fever. Then looking back at Hazzards with pistol drawn, he could hear the tapistry of screams and subtle profanity from the lady who had been doused with the collection of a chabber pot. Reiley couldn't help but admire and almost laugh at the situation he had suddenly gotten himself into. "For god sake, put yer pistol away Hazzards. If you remember correctly, I still owe ye fer saving my life earlier." "Well boy-O." Thought Reiley, as he glanced across the room. "Let's see if you still turn a stitch." "Captain Sterling, I presume." Reiley began, as he took off his jacket and began rolling up his sleeves. "Easy there!" Growled Hazzards, as he cautioned Reiley of any sudden movements. "The name's Jacob Reiley." The stranger continued, with a slight nod. "And it looks like you're in need of a doctor. " Then turning toward the man referred to as Symms, "How long has he been like this?" He asked, pulling the nearby lamp closer to the captain. "Now see here!" interrupted Sterling. Annoyed at how this so-called Doctor Reiley had "as a matter of factly" began questioning Symms as to his opinion of his (The captain's) health. "Easy Captain..." grinned the stranger, as he continued to examine Sterling. "No disrespect intended. It's just that when it comes to medicine, sometimes a clear head and a fresh perspective can help an opinion be formed. Besides sir, it's obvious you've been fighting a horrible fever and you should probably save yer strength..." "Now Sir, if you don't want my help, I'll gladly be on my way. That is of coarse, just as soon as Mr. Hazzards lowers his pistol. Otherwise, let me do what I can for you."

Placing the tankards on the bar, Reiley straightened himself out and politely begged the pardon of the lady who had so easily enchanted the tavern. "I beg your pardon miss..." Allowing the lady to take notice. "If I may introduse myself... Jacob Reiley, that is 'Doctor' Jacob Reiley, at your service. " "I don't wish to disturb you, but I've had recently had the great misfortune to tend to an extremely uncivil fellow, who in his confusion had somehow managed discribed an enchanting young lady and a letter she had dropped earlier this day and in front of this very tavern." "Well, before I was able to finish tending to his wounds, the miscreant had run from my office and left the letter he had spoken of." "Therefore, I felt it only honorable, that I should seek to return the parcel to the rightful owner." Then presenting the letter to the young lady "If I am right, then this letter must be yours. For you are definately that enchanting young lady he had spoken of."

Taking a long and much needed pull from his tankard, Reiley again leans forward across the table and begins to tell his story. "As a young man, I was sent to study medicine at the hospital and medical school founded by Thomas Guy in Southwark. Then for a very short time at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital in London under Dr. Gregory Giles." “Sounds like the start of a promising life... Wouldn't you agree? However, my internship in London was cut short, due to an “unfortunate” turn of events…" "Since then I’ve taken every opportunity that might present itself. Because the way I see it my friend, when a man has nothing to lose, he has everything to gain. ” “Wouldn’t you agree?” Then noticing the lady speaking with the tavern owner, Reiley realized this would be the best opportunity to return the letter she had dropped in the street. With the pause in conversation, Reiley stands and grabs his and Hazzard's tankards from table. "But before I say any more my friend, He grins. I think we'll be needing another drink."

Reiley had followed the stranger to the nearby tavern. But though he wanted to down the first tankard of ale he laid his eyes on, he knew he had to curb his thirst if he was to present himself as something other than a mere hooligan. It also became obvious that the man who introduced himself as Hazzards was quite proud of his station aboard the Archangel. Even more surprising was his obvious loyalty to his captain and the sincerity for which he spoke. "Loyalty and character?" Thought Reiley of this man Hazzards who sat across from him. Nothing like he would have expected from the sort that was rumored to venture the sea. During his passage from England, Reiley remembered stories of a sea captain named Sterling. And though some of the crew had referred to him as a pirate, most had praised his abilities as a navigator, a tactician and more importantly, a leader of men. But when Hazzards asked about his medical studies, Reiley knew an opportunity was about to come into play. But without warning, a delightfully unexpected song broke the constant drone of laughter and profanity. Turning around, Reiley was surprised to see the young lady who had dropped the letter he had taken such a risk in retrieving. "I'll be damned..." Reiley smiles as he listens to the wonderful shanty. But what's more was the allure of young woman who suddenly had the full attention of such a scurvy rabble. Perhaps it was the way she addressed the men, at times singing to them, and other times playfully teasing them, as she continued with with her song. After her song, when the tavern erupted with applause, Reiley couldn't help but stand and lifted his glass in admiration. "Now that's a Lady boy-o! That's a lady indeed!" Suddenly realizing his loss in composure, had probably given his position away. Reiley takes a quick study of Hazzards, sits down and leans forward across table. "Alright my friend, you saved my life... There isn't a soul on this earth that can say as much, and that is something I will never forget. But something tells me you're damn good man Hazzards, which is why I'll answer your questions...

"That I could friend." Sighs Reiley as he collects his bag and effects, unsure of how much of the fight the stranger had seen. Play it off, Reiley decides. Acting as an unfortunate gentleman, for he had no clue whom this stranger was or what his motives were for the assistance. "He did know his way around a blade though," Thinks Reiley. "I'll give him that. Best be cautious Boy-O." "You have excellent timing good sir. I shudder to think what would have happened if those ruffians got the best of me." "I will gladly accept yer offer, (clearing his throat) your offer that is, for a drink... However you must let me pay."

As he makes his way through the back streets, Rats can hear the faint sound of foot steps getting closer. "Novice." Thinks Rats, as he looks for a suitable place to turn the tables on his unwelcome company. However, as he turns to look away, he suddenly realizes he has walked into the deadend alleyway near the tavern. "Should have known." Thinks Rats, as he realizes he has just been baited into a dead end alley. "This is something I would have done." "Well, let's have it then..." Sighs Rats, as he turns to face his pursuers. Standing at the narrow mouth of the alleyway, stands three local street toughs. Two carrying long knives and one with an old doglock pistol. "Well Governor," Sneers one of the toughs as they start to circle around him. "Looks like you made a wrong turn. Let's start with what's in the bag. Shall we...?!" "I have a better idea," Grins Rats as he drops the bag to the ground. "Why don't we start with this." Suddenly Rats draws both of his pistols and fires the first directly into the chest of the tough with the doglock. However as he fires the second pistol at the tough with the long sideburns, there is only a flash in the pan and no proper ignition of the powder charge. "You'll pay for that mate!" Spits the tough, as he lunges forward with his long curved knife. Quickly, Rats parries the knife with the barrel of his left pistol and bringing the other pistol crashing down on the back of the hoodlums skull. However as he watches the hoodlum drop to the ground, Rats realizes he has forgotten about third street tough. "And I was doing so good." sighs Rats, as he hears the sound of the doglock being cocked behind him.

With the letter tucked within his jacket, Rats cautiously locks and leaves the comfort of the Doctor Easterly's office. With him he has secured a hand full of medical journals and various items of comfort. "If I'm to return this letter, I'll have to start at the tavern." Thinks Rats, as he makes his way through the back streets. "They would hardly recognize me." Chuckles Rats, having changed from rags and a beard to a much more gentlemanly appearance. "Then that's where you'll start boy-o. Time to put on the swagger!"

In a deep sleep, Rats goes over the past few days of events in his head. The drinking, the wenching, being betrayed and then suddenly attacked by the Allister Brothers, a well-timed escape, the girl. "The girl.......? That was no girl Boy-O!" Rats says to hisself. "That was a Lady." But what was it about her? Why did she run out of there in such a hurried fashion? Why would a lady be in such a place? She was something though.... Wasn't she? Waking with a start, Rats quickly draws one of his pistols. Slowly walking through the dark, Rats is positive the sound came from within' the room. As he turns he notices a young man sitting at the desk. "Doctor Easterly?" He asks, as he takes a carefull aim and pulls back the hammer on the pistol. But as the young man turns around, Rats is suddenly confronted by the likeness of Richard Skinner, the young man Rats had killed several years prior. "Why Reiley?" Asks the ghost. "You wanted to save lives not take them." "You had it comming, you bastard." Replied Rats as he cautiously takes two steps backward. "For what you did to that girl." "And what have you done to women? Asks the ghost. Surely it's no different than..." "There's a big difference!" Snaps Rats. "Never have I forced a woman, nor have I ever killed one!" "But I didn't kill her..." Shruggs the ghost. "She did that herself." "That's because she couldn't live with the shame!" Yells Rats, as he remembers back to Sarah's funeral. "So that's your reason for killing me?" Replies the ghost. "Perhaps you're right, perhaps I deserved it. But look at you now! You've taken lives for no other reason than filling your cup with drink. So don't try to pretend you're any different than I. But something tells me Mr. Reiley, that I'll be seeing you very soon!" Suddenly a pistol shot is heard and a large hole bursts forth on the young man's throat, as the ghost turns from a well-groomed youngman to a hideous corpse. Then as the ghost grabbs it's throat and begins screaming, Rats suddenly wakes with a start. Drawing both pistols, he looks around the room in a panic. "Bad dream, he sighs in relief. Bad memory.... He had it comming. By God, he had it comming..." Then looking across the room toward his old clothes and worn jacket, he notices a white piece of paper sticking from out of his pocket. "The letter....?"

After tending to his own wounds, Rats sits back and enjoys a much needed moment of rest. Looking around at the fine home, he almost regrets the life he had lived. "But what fun you've had, boyo. (He grins.) What fun you've had..." "Hello? He stopps, noticing the nicely carved wooden case on the shelve. "What have we here?" Opening the square presentation box, Rats discovers a pair of nicely detailed dueling pistols, with small powder flask and several shot. "You may be poor as dirt, but you have the luck of the devil, lad. The luck of the devil." Now sitting back and feeling a change in luck was just over the horizon, Rats drifts into a much needed sleep.

Out of the corner of his eye Rats noticed a young breath of fresh air emerge from the tavern nearby. She looks somewhat upset and hurried, with a hand full of parcels. As she passes by he notices one of the letters fall from the lady's arms. "This must be of some importance for such a lovely lass to be in such concern." he grins watching the lady hurry down the street. Waiting for the best possible moment springs the lock and leaps from the wagon. Pausing for a moment, he stops and picks up the letter the young lady had dropped. But as he stands and turns, he comes face to face with the bully guard who had thrashed him only moments earlier. "I'm going to enjoy this..." Snarls the guard, as he pats his billy stick into his bear-like hand. "Get him lads!" yells another prisoner, as the wagon of unfortunate convicts pile onto the guard. Suddenly the street errupt into a brawling site of fist-to-cuff. Without proper blade or pistol, Rats takes this opportunity, to escape down a nearby backstreet. But wiping the sweat from his brow, he realizes it's not sweat, but a slight flow of blood. "I'll need a stitch or two for this one." He sighs as he cautiously makes his way to the home office of Doctor Owen Easterly. After patiently knocking, Rats decides to pick the door and tend to himself. But entering, soon discovers no one is there. "Perhaps on holiday?" wonders Rats as he looks through the doctors fine wardrobe for clothes, more suitable. After settling on a much nicer suit of clothing, Rats seizes the opportunity to clean up and shave off the past weeks of stubble. "You still got it boy-O. He grins, as he admires himself in the mirror. You look like a new man. " Then as he sits down next to the book case, "I should have finished my studies." He laughs, picking up a nearby medical journal and thinking back to younger days, when he was a student of medicine, before he had that unfortunate duel with the local magistrate's son. "I suppose I could still turn a stitch or two." He grins as he starts collecting the needed medicines and instruments to tend to his wounds.

From out side of the tavern, a sudden commotion is heard. Suddenly a youngster bursts through the tavern door and knocks the drunkard to the floor. “Sorry sir! Grimaces the young man as he notices the drunk sprawled out on the floor and covered in ale. But the Allister brothers are bringing in the next lot of dancers for the hangman!” Lilly takes this opportunity to escape as several of the other patrons push toward the door in an attempt to see whom the latest “rabbits” are. As everyone knows, the Allister brothers are four of the most notorious Bounty men in the area. Though they’re crimes are rarely different than the unfortunate souls they arrest, it is also rumored they have an extremely influential contact in the local government. Thereby allowing them to rob and murder in the name of justice. However, as the large prison wagon slides to a halt, a cruel and somewhat humorous little song can be heard. “Oh Rats got the baby, Rats got the baby, Go tell Mom! Go tell Mom! Rats ate the baby, Rats ate the baby, Go tell Mon! Go tell Mom! Rats caught the lady, Rats caught the lady, Go tell Mom! Go tell Mom! Rats ate the..OUCH!!!!” Yells the singer as he is suddenly struck by one of the guards. You’re lucky you caught me with me pants down or I’d be wearing yer guts for garters!!” “Sure Rats, Replies the large and hulking guard. Why do you think we knew where you were hiding? The girls were working for us you damned highwayman!” “Well then tell em to give ol’ Rats back his gold!….On second thought, tell em to keep it! Them girls earned their money!!! Oh Rat’s got the Lady, Rat’s got the Lady….Ouch!!! Again the group of unfortunate criminals burst into laughter as Jacob Riley (Aka: Rats O'Riley: scoundrel, highwayman and soon to be pirate) is again struck by one of the guards. However, what the guards haven’t noticed, is that even though Rats is still nursing a bit of a hang-over, he has already picked the locks on his shackles and is simply waiting for the right chance to make his escape.

Aye! As always me dear, you can count on ol' Rats to keep you company or keep ye laughing wit me wonderfull'ofit singing (or is it sinning)voice. Which is gaurantee'd to clean out rooms and offend the offensive. Yes it's a curse to some, but a talent say's Aye! And though I still need to find me kit. I can try to work things out, if I know of a date to plan fer. I'll take a look at me schedule from work and see which days me weekends fall upon for the next month or so. I'll be talking to ye soon Rats

Having viewed all the pics from yer event, I can truly say that I will not miss it next year! Did the powers that be allow you no-gooders to camp on site?? That really is the way to go. Especially so you can stagger back.... I mean easily find yer bunk. Sound and looks like the weather was also in your favor! Couldn't ask fer more! Rats