Pyrates of the West Coast

[Captain Jacob Badger]

Prepare t' stall....larboard side....aye sah!.........she won't stall fer long Cap'n.......ye'll have t' be quick about it sah......on yer word....

[Jonathan Hawks]

"Monsignor, I'fn ya dont mind I be takin this lad right quick fer a hearty cleansin. Ana I don't mean the prayin kind. Now, mate, take me arm like this. WOA!!! I just got whif of the arm pit. Ok lad, just come wit me."

Knowing that the man doesnt understanding any english, Hawks rambles on and on anyway just hopin the man gets some of it. He walks him to a place on ship where he can be cleaned up. Usually just a jump overboard in the salt sea will help like the rest of the crew, but this he knows mite scare this one. Especially after being locked up for some time. He stays with the man auntil he is cleaned up the yells for one of the crew to get him some clothes.

"Laddie, run get this e're man some breeches and shirt. He looks ta be Mr Lasseters size. Now go... the quicker he get dressed the sooner I can get back ta bed. I aint slept all night"

[William Brand]

Catching up to the captain.... Captain! (Fairly irritated as my persistance to be a part of this days bounty I am now bothering him for the third time in an hour and a half) Yes! he easily barks whilst turning to face me. Straightens out his top coat and hat and returns my gaze saying yes monsignor? Captain I should like to ask the plan of direction for the ship how many days afore we too will go to port and replenish ships stores our water was more than 5 times gone faster with the likes of the dutch mouths to feed and drynk. Also Sir (and I saw Cairan going in and Swan coming out of the basket and then heard the bells) I should like to volunteer for the galley cooks duties until a certain, (well sir) a better qualified person is involved.

"I would appreciate any hand you can lend in the galley until we may find someone to replace Miss Johnson. As for our stores, I have them weighed in my mind against the journey and I'm certain there is enough water and to spare."

William returns his attention to the Bosun. "All is ready, Mister Badger. You have the helm."

The Captain watches as the signal to cast off comes hard upon Mister Badger's orders. There is a tenative moment where the Danzig seems to loom, but it is an illusion, her solitary sail is but a frail engine of the wind. The Dansig crew wrestles off the cable and all is dumped overboard. The Watch Dog rolls gently to larboard as the Dansig saunters past at a snails pace.

"Very good, Mister Badger. Mister Youngblood...please fire a our starboard guns with an added charge of powder. I want those still abed in Montserrat to hear the call and sight the Danzig."

Some of the Dutch sound a cheerful hail to the Watch Dog's crew as they crawl past. Christine waves a final farewell and the Watch Dog rolls off in a gentle arc, slowing to gather the cutter.

[Pew]

::"Aye, aye Cap'n." Mr Youngblood stood atop the Quarterdeck and calls to the starboard cannon, "Alright lads, ya 'eard the Cap'n, starboard guns, add a charge of powder."

::With precision known to very few aboard the sea, the starboard gun crew of Watch Dog load a double charge of powder and run their cannon out. "Ready to fire sah," says Mr. Johnson. A chorus of Ready to fire, rings along the line. "Very well, on your mark Mr. Johnson, FIRE!!"::

::A succession of BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!! resonates off of the water sounding the entrance of the Danzig Trader into British waters . . .. ::

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Makin me ways about the tight spaces in and around the galley I find the pots and pans and the stir spoons and laddles. Nice iron skillets and baking flats are the ready. I mixes up flour and water and a little butter adding a dash of cinnamon I fill a flat and drop it into an oven. I take out the salted pork and slicing it very thin I decide to frys up about a four pound mess and with the leftovers grease I decide the lamb roast I found should be the better after I spread the fat all upon the outers of if then I'll roast it slow. I start the pork and goes down to find what greens are to my avail and find a couple of bags of leeks and beans. Hmmmm? soup! I bring up three pounds a bean and one of leek. I turn the pork and its cooking slow but the smell is tremendous. I cheack and the pan of bread only to find it isn't rising? What the hell is that other thing that goes???? Damn! I forgots the yeast. Next time! This'll jes have to be tack. I pulls out the crisp fried pork and lays it out on it's own flat about three pounds of it done. And I fetch four gallons of water to boil. I'm in there steaming up the place when I hears cannons and the floor lurches to me sideways.

[Rummy3]

The aroma of seasoned pork fills the air with a welcome scent. Ahhh, I thinks to meself as me grumbling stomach responds as well. I peeks me head into the galley and with surprise find me carpenter's assistant now with tools of another sort in his hands. "Padre! You are indeed a man of many talents!" I tells him. "I should have known just by lookin at ya that ye are good in the kitchen too! So ye be fixin ta fill our bellies and our souls this fyne day, I see!"

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Armand gained the upper reaches for the second time in the nearing of noon. Standing quietly by, he waited for the Captain to have a free moment and made no movement to intrude. The young Frenchman watched, with mild intrest, the goings on betwixt the two ships. Finding a good vantage from midship, Armand glanced occassionally to the Quarterdeck then back to the happenings on liquid surface.

Afore the Main mast, his attention was drawn to the release efforts involving the Nubian. For a fleet of moment as the trio departed, Armand preceived that those eyes of deep chocolate hue had met over the short distance with his own of cool grey.

"Waiting for the captain too, I see . . ." A voice said from behind Armand. He turned around to see Tudor carrying a flagon of coffee in one hand and an armfull of papers in the other. "I've been trying to get a hold of him since after dawn . . ." She sounded like she was going to continue, until several of the papers started slipping out of her arms . . .

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

With the familiar cadence of voicing, Armand smiled at the Steward with an amount of boyish charm to her presence. Leaving his relaxed stance against the rail he stood with proper respect and watched the smallish display of nervousness.

"Mademoiselle." A nod of acknowledgment to her wordings, as the cool pools of grey took in the unbalanced load she was fighting with. The mass shifted and the Frenchman quickly reached forward to attempt some aid in the plight. With the stabilization of paperment rebellion, Armand looked at Miss Smith quizically.

"Mademoiselle, it is too much of a burden for a lady to carry. Please, allow me to bear the paperwork, so that you may have some ease while awaiting the Capitaine's audience."

[Pirate Petee]

*after the salute was fired.*

All right men, les get those guns clean.

*He walks down to the galley, he fills his tankard with grog and grabs two hard tack bicuts and wraps them in cloth. He heads top side and up to the quarter deck to his 12 pounder. He sits down crossing his legs and sets his tankard and the hard tack on the deck. Pulling out his vent punch and vent brush from a pouch on his belt, he begins cleaning the vent/touch hole. Pausing to take a bite from the hard tack and a swig from his grog.*

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Her ears were pink again - and she knew it, but without comment Tudor let Armand help her with her armload. "Ta very much." She said, then leaned against the railing, mimcking his poster from before her arrival, in an attempt to lighten the mood. "What do you need to talk to him about?" She asked, balancing the coffee on the rail infront of her.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Though the blush of pink did not go unnoted, the Gascon acted oblivious to its showing. The ready smile reapeared with reply.

"Cela m'est egal, Mademoiselle...Avec plasir."

He realized his slip into native tongue,

"Pardon, Mademoiselle...I forget myself. What it is I ment to say was, I do not mind and do so with pleasure."

His sight drifted to the percarious balance of pot on rail, then returned to her casual posturing.

" I am to relay the Doctuer's request for audience....et vous?"

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

"oh, It's alright - I mean - I speak french - or well, I understand it . . .er, um . . ." She trailed uselessly avoiding all eye contact with the man standing beside her. "I'm just waiting to get the captain his morning coffee and go over the days goings on with him."

[Sealegs Constance]

Peeks into the galley and see that the padre could use some help. Pots and pans every where. Aye my good padre I see ye are a man of many talents. Now it looks to me as if ye be needin some help? I used to cook fer the crew of the last ship I was on. Where would you like me to start?

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

" I do not see how the Capitaine could keep you waiting, Mademoiselle. It would seem to moi, that he would long to be honoured with your company and not in wish of wasting a moment or opportunity to do so."

Armand glanced to the Quarter deck then back.

"But you will pardon my boldness. I am not in a position to lay judgment on my betters."

The cool grey pools or sight centered on the coffee vessel, drifted to the Steward's face briefly, then out to the waters.

"I think that the cafe' will be undrinkable before the Capitaine will have time to entertaine it, Mademoiselle..."

[William Brand]

As the Watch Dog went about the business of gathering the cutter, William retired to the ward room, leaving the deck in the capable hands of Mister Badger. As he went, he passed Miss Smith who delivered him messages of other pressing concerns and requests. He sent her back again with orders and returns, informing all that he would be in the ward room and any and all who needed him might seek an audience there.

William passed the galley on his way and exchanged compliments for food, remarking on the Monsignor's sudden and unexpected skill with a skillet. Then he retired to his quarters with well laden tray. He laid it out upon the table among his charts and waited for the Doctor and others to arrive while he ate.

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

"Well . . . He's a busy man . . ." She managed to wheeze out, "I . . ." She opened her mouth then clamped it shut again quickly. She looked away for a moment, "just stop talking before ye make more of an ass out of yerself, Smith." She repremanded herself under her breath. She turned back to face Armand and smile cheekily, then took a swig of the coffee. "You're right, it's cold." She said, then saw the Captain approching. "Morning sir . . ." He greeted her and gave her the list of errands he had prepared for her, then went to the ward room.

She turned back to Armand. "He didn't even think about the coffee." She grinned again. "I best be off about my work . . ."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Receiving notification, the Surgeon headed up and aft to the Ward room. Giving a small rap of hailing, she entered and stood patiently awaiting the Captain's acknowledgement.

[William Brand]

Receiving notification, the Surgeon headed up and aft to the Ward room. Giving a small rap of hailing, she entered and stood patiently awaiting the Captain's acknowledgement.

William stood from his tray mid bite.

"Doctor... Do come in."

He cleared a place at the table and fetched a chair closer.

"I trust that you have had some success with the wounded, as I've heard no word to the contrary. Bad news has a way of reaching me with haste. Have you eaten? I can fetch a second tray."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Accepting his offer of seating and nourishment,

" Very kind of you, Sir. I dare say that all I have had as of late, is a pot of coffee early this morning....But, please do not go to effort on my part. Relax, I thank you for your consideration. I shall be brief, for I am sure that you are as worn as myself with recent events."

She unconsciencely rubbed her eyes in brief before continueing on.

" The woman Meg, and the Nubian get can be turned free to your whim. They have suffered little in the way of physical damage and will be right as rain with proper meal consumption. The other gentleman has suffered the share of damage that they escaped and shall have to stay in the sick ward for some time yet. If you had intention of ridding yourself of them, Mister Gage shall have to be dropped off at a later time."

[Dorian Lasseter]

::The Watch Dog, now free of her burden, sailed away from the Danzig Trader and took in sail, slowing to allow the retreval of the cutter. Mr. Lasseter stood by the mast on the cutter, watching as the 'Dog hauled her wind...::

A'right, time ta head o'er, get back aboard th' ship... Mr. Warren, make haste ta th' Larb'd side, when we get there, Nigel to th' bow fer grabbin' th' chains an' settin' the tackle... Mr. Styles an' Tucker, yer ta drop n' stow canvas, Mr. Warren an' I will rig the stern tackle...

::With the orders given, Mr. Warren pushed the tiller over, sending the cutter on a direct course to the Watch Dog.... The rigging strained as they ran close to the wind, vibrating at a fevered pitch...::

Mr. Warren, easy off a bit... the wind is -

::His words were cut off as the line for the Jib parted at the pin rail, sounding like a pistol shot... Mr. Lasseter droped to the deck...::

Damn it all ta hell!!!

Yelled the Quartermaster as the jib flogged and then collapsed...::

Lay off damn you!

:: Mr. Warren was already swinging the cutter away and letting the gaff sail loose the wind, once the boat was just about dead in the water, the lads found their way about to check the damage...::

"Sorry Mr. Lasseter, She runs so good I didn't think it were a problem..."

Said Mr. Warren

S'a'right.... S'aright.... lessee iffn' th' lines can be made fast fer now... gonna rerig it once aboard -- Damn...

::the Quartermaster stood as he was speaking and noticed a darkening red stain coming from his left arm just below the shoulder.... Reaching over with his right, he shifted the cloth of his sleeve, noticing a rent in it...::

Looks like tha' damn line got me... Lucky... lucky it dinna part higher... I think I gonna need a new shirt... *chuckle*

::He winced as he laughed at his weak joke, the Coxwain went to take hold of his arm...::

I's A'right Lad... jest a scratch... Now, get this mess squared away lads, get us back ta th' ship...

::Holding his left arm to his side, Mr. Lasseter made his way to the stern sheets and sat down heavily...::

[William Brand]

Accepting his offer of seating and nourishment,

" Very kind of you, Sir. I dare say that all I have had as of late, is a pot of coffee early this morning....But, please do not go to effort on my part. Relax, I thank you for your consideration. I shall be brief, for I am sure that you are as worn as myself with recent events."

She unconsciencely rubbed her eyes in brief before continueing on.

" The woman Meg, and the Nubian get can be turned free to your whim. They have suffered little in the way of physical damage and will be right as rain with proper meal consumption. The other gentleman has suffered the share of damage that they escaped and shall have to stay in the sick ward for some time yet. If you had intention of ridding yourself of them, Mister Gage shall have to be dropped off at a later time."

"Now don't be so cordial in your denial." He said, sliding the tray across the table. "I spent the early morning standing and talking over the taffrail. You spent the better part of the night standing over a man's life. Now eat and tell me what it is you wanted to talk about."

William called out into the companion way for Miss Smith, sending her away again for additional food from the galley.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

" Truly, Sir...You exagerate. I only did in line of duty what my office requires. No more...no less."

The circles of darkened smudge under eyes countered the statement and then some. Glancing to the proffered meal, she gave slight incline of head and a nod of thanks.

" Since it is that we appear to be in private...Is there anything of recent event that you have query to?"

The Surgeon waited to give the proffer of food any further regard.

[William Brand]

William looked from the tray to the Doctor and back again.

"Is it your intention to turn down an invitation at my table? Don't make me order you to eat."

Miss Smith was already returning with a second tray. He waited for her to place the food in front of him and then asked his Steward to see that they were not disturbed.

"You can eat and talk to me of Fournier."

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

thats twice Ms Smiths been here and picked up food????

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

There was a small flash of challenge in the Surgeon's eyes at the order comment. Sampling a small tidbit, she focused on William's face and cast forth a vissage of ease.

"What is there to know? He is and always has been very good at what he...persues. He made, what the Anglais would call Post, by four and twenty years...Very ambitious, intelligent...It is of no suprise to me that he has done well..His father is a very highly placed admiral and his brother has had success as a capitaine, as well. Fournier's First Lieutenant, Monsieur Lamaire, is a cousin from his mother's side...."

Tempest passed it off as a conversation about the weather, but the deep green hues of dead light had dropped to the tray as she spoke. It was an inner irritation to her that of all the secrecies in her possesion, of all the smoke and mirror incidents that had been so successfully rendered without a hitch, for abilities of diplomacy and courtier deceptions...that the man sitting near could unsettle her cool of reason.