Aurore Devareaux

Christophe stepped back two paces, allowing access past himself; though his eyes never wavered from Sterling. He raised one hand, extending a finger indicating direction up the near stairs. "Last door...."

They are, but not as the real thing would be. Remember, vardos were like the modern day "mobile home". The were a bit crowded inside and contained a "kitchen" and bed. They varied in size and shape....Some were fancy, others not as much. Authentic vardos interior example These should give a better idea of the real thing.

Christophe leaned on the frame of doorway that Sterling had just passed through. He watched in silent manner as the other cast look about and called for the one which was not within. As watched turned around, a hint of confusion shadowing his features, the Frenchman's presence was noticed....a shadow hanging in shadows. They eyed each other as if in some unspoken standoff, a hint of disaproval and distrust playing the Frenchman's expression as he finally spoke. "Mademoiselle is upstairs with Sabastian."

Here are a few more shots... The Gardens The Caravan

Seth gave sagesque nod to Sterling's comment, catching the slight rose tincture to his companion's cheeks with the action of respect. He leaned down slightly, speaking soft to the girl's hearing then righted lanky stance. "Tis to mine thinkin', that I shall walk wit' ye. Mahaps it would cause deterant to any of the local ruffs...This area is no' as what ye have been abou' here in The Port. Most are wise to avoid it, eh?" A few parting words were spoken to the young woman, then room was left securly behind for the damp byways, once again.

I know that the Texas Musketeers are heading down for the All Hollows weekend. If you are going to camp, you may wish to touch base with them to see if any of them are, as well. It is better and safer to camp with folks you know.

Seth looked at Sterling's offered hand as if deciphering what it was for a brief, than accepted it in his own of weathered and scared qualities. The grip was firm, a further testimony to streagnths not shown by his wraith-like frame. "Do no' believe everythin' that ye have heard abou' the Tribes, Captain...It is the firmest advice I can give ye. They are no' deevils nor heathens...Tis what the world would wish ye to believe. Tis a blessin' that ye have gained acceptance an' guard tha' lass like a rare jewel." He withdrew his hand, long fingers uncurling their clasp of vice nature as the pale eyes settled on the door just before the lock was turned back and the girl returned. She spoke quietly in native tongue, moving behind Childermass' frame as she eyed Sterling with curiosity. "Word 'as been sent of our whereabou's, but I think tis time to return...Less there be somet'in else ye wish to know..."

Robert's thanked Striker's companion for her hospitality, offering a wink and comment in rich brogue. It took not keen observation to note that the Captain in question was in some manner of restrictive constitution. Sean gave veiled survey while sampling from proffered libation, although from a fishing village, and quite accustomed to the ways of sea vessels, he wished to lay this errand quickly to rest; not careing overmuch, for the containment now faced. Balancing wine container on one knee with loose grip, mischievous eyes centered on Striker, "Captain, tis been me intructin' to relay the wants o' the gentleman wit' which ye have enquired to. In fairness to all involved, tis Captain Sterling's desire to meet on neutral ground...." Sean cocked a brow slightly. "In light o' current happnin's I am sure ye might be in an understandin' accord to the likes." A sample of rouge was taken, "Tis the Captain's want to be meetin' on'na docks, then retirin' to near tavern fer privacy. He be assurin' o' no shannanies an' be apologizin' fer any inconviences to yerself an' yers."

Childermass tracked Sterling's pace of two and fro, saying nothing; allowing for the other man to vent concerns and wondering just how little it was that had preceived. As the other ceased planking abuse, Seth cocked his head minutely to the right, expression mantled in some scarred form of irony and unspoken mirth. "Captain, I do no' think ye have a full understandin' of Le Cour and its' gov'nors. Ye are a perceptive gent....But, ye may be missin' the forest fer the trees, eh?" The wry chuckled sounded again, bouncing the dim boundries of utilitarian surround. "Don' be fooled by appearences...well crafted illussions....Mayhaps it is nothin' more than cultural misunderstandin's. If Sabastian allowed tha' this should take place, then I could be one to assure tha' he did so wi'out any risk to 'is sister. If ye won 'is approval....then there be reason for it...." The pale sights regarded Sterling closely in the dim near silence, as if guaging the other's soul. "They live fer the day, Captain...They are no' ones to give in to assumptions of comfort, nor the expectations of the same. Ye have to be lookin' deeper than the polish an' refinements. I can be one to assure tha' they are ones to roll wit' every change an' be landin' on their feet like any cat. Ye would have to be understandin' wha' they are an' wha' they have endured...Tis no' an enviable past....." Seth paused to consider then glanced to footsteps sounding beyond closed door. "Ye are in a position coveted by the ranks of Le Cour...There be many a man tha' would near kill to be in yer place."

We are going to try, but it is up in the air currently. (Damned budget...sigh) Conroe is very nice, I usually book in Navasota. ( I believe it is closer.) I have stayed at the event campgrounds, not bad...But it do get cold at night and the Drum Circle can drive you batty. I do not reccomend camping in Nov unless you intend to pack heating. I hear it can be sub-Arctic at night. Sorry to hear you had a bout of unfortunate occurance. But, Sat was the only good day for weather...Sunday had me looking for a boat. I swear I saw an old Hippie walk by with a whole line of paired animals walking two-by-two.

LOL!!! Sandles that are not in view of the shot.

Thank you all for your kind comments. The Garden pics were taken Saturday under perfect weather conditions. Sunday, the weather turned most foul due to hurricane activities down South and though we were there the entirety, the "cannon" was kept safe and dry. I shall post more under raids.

Holland-aise sauce

These are hot off the press from TRF.... This is one of two matching carved benches in the Formal Gardens. Here is Nead "Flintlock Jack" Fitzgerald...all that haze and blur is from spent powder. (Honestly...) This is a section of the Water Gardens

Sterling stared at the body at Childermass's feet until the other man turned and spoke. "Mayhaps ye should be followin' me back to the Bookseller's..." "Damnation!" Sterling muttered, then thought it best to hold his tongue. Did everyone in Port Royal think him a helpless child or worse a complete fool? He sheathed his weapon then rubbed his eyes with his good hand. "Are ye all right?" Childermass called back at him. Sterling shook his head as he fell into step several paces behind his rescuer. "No," he answered. "What tis it then?" Childermass asked, not even bothering to look behind him. "I do not know," Sterling said. For a second Childermass thought perhaps he should turn back and see what could possibly be amiss. The man's wounds were certainly healing well enough and yet were still in a very dangerous state... had he not himself, prescribed rest? It was clearly evident he had been ignored by both when he had given instruction. So, instead he chose to wait and continued walking. He had a hunch... and sure enough... "Tell me about Aurore," he heard Sterling call after him. "Please..." Childermass turned then and looked the captain once over. Throughly soaked to the bone from dripping hat feathers to muddied buckled shoes, Childermass never thought to see again, someone who looked as lost as he surely felt. The gears of strategic calculation and weighing of odds turned with slow, smooth percision withing the borders of Childermass' mind. These were the gifts with which Seth had survived nation against nation confrontations of such numerous tally that the names and places had long ago become a blur. So ingrained to nature, that it was applied to any given situation that Life decided to offer up. In his thinkings, why tamper or adjust anything that seemed to fit the need in any square. Turning away, he gave no more than motion to follow, then threaded through a series of turns to end at a back entrance to simple structure. A narrow stairway lead upward in the dim, rough conversations drifting back from unseen Common Room beyond where they stood. Childermass glanced once at Sterling, the first acknowlegemnt given since query had been purveyed, then he moved up into the semi-darkness to the second floor. The aged planking of hallway surface gave creak of contempt as it was traversed, the air containing mixture of unpleasant scents so varied as to leave one confused as to defined origins. Muffled voices could beheard as doorways were passed, barely visualized in the gloom and finally, Seth's tread came to halt. Iron on iron friction reverberated shoddy corridor, then dull lumination fought the shadows and gave indication of portal existance. Stepping into private den, Seth once more glanced to Sterling and stood back to allow entrance. Danish delight stirred at lock manipulation, a smile beginning to trek pale and youthful features, but brought to stop as the stranger entered. Door was secured, and battle marked wraith moved to the girl's side, whispering in half noted language. Nodding, she departed. Re-centering his attention on where the Englishman stood, Seth chuckled to some private amusment. The pale sights measured guest briefly, "Tis a bit to the strange to me that ye should be asking fer information 'bout the one ye plan to join in wedlock. Tis not a blind arrangement...An one would be thinkin' that any question should be asked to Her that is involved..." The wry chuckle sounded the proximity again, "Ask yer questions....an' I will consider givin' ye answers...." Childermass' eyes traped Sterling's own with a cold, reptillian manner.

Zig-Zag

Why does it always have to be our fault? Mercury

As a friendly warning to those who take dwelling in and around Port Royal. You shall find me quite scarce until Tuesday the 17th. Destination TRF...God have mercy on their souls.... Play nice while I am gone.

Childermass had watched the two men leave Bookstore way station and followed at a distance out of curiosity. After the exchange of words and parting of ways, Seth continued to shadow Sterling. The wake he followed in seemed to have no true destination, a rag tag bearing of no logical makings. The Captain rounded corner up ahead, soon followed the words of aggitated nature. Seth hung back, glancing around structure edge and just out of view. Verbose was direct, body language even more so and without further debate, scarred war horse moved into the square calling to the aggitator. "Now, now...Are ye not a fine man of honour to lay challenge to another in weakened state." "Move on!" aggresor ordered with authoritive airs." "Well ye see...tis not to me liking to do such. Not in me better interest...Ye might say." Aggressor turned on heel, brandishing exposed steel with threat. Childermass chuckled wryly, "So that's how ye be wantin' it...So be it ye jacknape son o' a whore." It was a disturbing look of cool calm that lay over Childermass' scarred features as pretender charged. No movement was made until last second, the blade was ducked with quick sidestep. Attacker careened into near structure wall then turned to charge blindly again. Two words were uttered with contempt as aggersor near proximity and Seth dogded again, but this time grabbing the other's head with a quick twisting motion.... "Poor choice..." As assailant's body hit lane surface, Childermass glanced to Sterling momentarily before turning to retrace his steps. "Mayhaps ye should be followin' me back to the Bookseller's...."

confrontation

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