Pyrates of the West Coast

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Word had been passed through the chambers and passages that made up the belly of the frigate. Having reached the orlop, the Gascon had traded simple affaire of calico for the chosen splendor so attended earlier. He had heavily debated the use of the bejeweled sabre of former life, but in the end chose another of proper bearing hidden further down in the sea chest's depth. The Surgeon's twined Irish traveling pistols slept in deep velvet coat pocket repose, hidden as support to the Dragoon pistol who's service had proven true at every usage in what seemed a lifetime ago. The knee heigth cavalry boots and spurs had been buffed and polished to proper millitary standards, giving proud show against the grey breeches that they half covered.

Retriving the wide brimmed and heavily plummed hat from its reside on chair back post, Armand glanced to the two chests of medium stature near the doorway. One an offering of ten and two bottles of Medeira from a shared private store, sellected for vintage and quality as a gift of goodwill. It was a personal sacrifice that both he and Tempest parted with somewhat hesitantly, but both had agreed that it was a proper offering. The other chest, somewhat larger than the first, contained the Gascon's personal tack and saddle to adorn an as of yet, unknown mount. He would not leave to chance what may be offered in such showing at local stable, what may be offered as mount concerned him enough.

With a final inspection that all was in place, Armand glanced to the one commonly known as "Tempest" giving a eloquant courtly bow. Resuming erect stance, he proffered an arm to her and smiled with impish implications, "Mademoiselle Bertrand, je suis a' votre disposition."

Giving mock courtsie, she returned his smile and echoed its airs, " C'est bien aimable de votre part, a vous Monsuier D'esnumbuc."

The play of jestng protocal screeched to halt as she noticed the Quartermaster's form leaning against the sick berth's doorframe, a bold smile of amusement crossing his face.

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: the QuarterMaster drew himself off the doorframe, took a breath before speaking to calm his amusement....::

Well, Mademoiselle 'Bertrand', Monsuier D'esnumbuc.... It seems time coming soon for the departure... It appears ye been hiding a right bit o' finery, lad...

I gonna be captainin' th' cutter... once ye be done wi' ye diplomatic mission... we gonna see 'bout where we c'n trade 'r wares fer wot we need ta resupply th' ship.....

::Mr. Lasseter looked both the Surgeon and her Steward up and down, wondering what these two would look like in a court, She in her fine gown, he in the fine suit of clothes he now wore... He shook his head at the thought....::

My.... such fine peacocks... well... 'ow much gear ye need ta take along? Shall I 'ave some able semen come an' bring it all topside?

::with a light chuckle and a wink he made his intentions of jest known::

A'right... soon as we drop th' hook, cutter'll be ready ta sail... I shall see ye both on deck then....

[William Brand]

Beggin' yer pahdon Cap'n, sah. . .

I found this 'ere chart stashed amon'st the papers from the Dutchie Trader.  Wouldst it be 'elpin us a wee bit sah?

"Ayyyye, Mister Pew. You have unearthed a small treasure."

William spread it out as best he could and examined it against his memory of other charts in their care. It was inaccurate in some ways, but overall, it demonstrated a grand perspective of the surrounding seas in relation to all the major islands of the region.

"I shall add it to our improving collection. Thank you, Mister Pew."

[Rummy3]

Sixth bell and I've been here frying up the pork strips and making this souflet dish using the rest of the onion, chiles and a little salt and pepper I mashed the slowly cooked yet still runny scrambled eggs into a pastry shell. I put it in the oven for a short time and it rose up over the top but stopped as it rolled over the edge of the crust. I removed and made ready the second dish waiting for the firsts consumption completion. Coffe was on and it weren't light out yet figured the crew'd be up and about shortly. Cacao leaves and me last half vanilla bean I were mixing in the powder fer the mornings brew when in came Rummy Aye lass I were hoping you might come and play a soft song to brighten this day with your cheer. Here (offering up the first plate of me egg dish) tis me new concoction and I would most humbly appreciate yer honesty as to it's resolve? Grammercy

..."Smells divine, padre. Ah, and yes -the flavor is even more heavenly than the aroma! You missed yer calling~" (Blushes at the thought of the words that just escaped me lips) "Er, I mean -you could have cooked for the pontif himself. I did comes in here on a spiritual note, though, padre. You know, ta ask for Penance. It's been a while and, well, me dreams have been plagueing me so I knows I an in need of absolution."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Armand wheeled about to the Quartermaster's voicings the traces of playful smile still upon expression. Giving an impression of indignation and apall he stood straighter.

" Non, Monsuier Lasseter...Moi? Paon?! Et Mademoiselle...paonne?! Mon dieu!" Armand placed a palm to cheek in mock angst before laughing.

"Merci monsuier, we shall be up very soon and it is just these two chests that need to be transported."

Dorian departed their company for the upper relms and with his dissapearance from doorway, Armand noticed his partner's focus may have lingered there a bit longer than could have been expected. Giving her a poke to the ribs, he grinned with mischievous intent. Tempest's brow knit with concern as she voiced thoughts.

" You will be most careful while ashore?"

" As ever I should be..."

Her eyes narrowed a slight, " Promesse?"

The Gascon exhaled heavily, " Je te le promets. You worry too much, it will age you before your time. Now...We shall go up?"

He extended his arm to her with a smallish nod.

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

I returned to the aft deck dressed in me Sunday best hoping upon all hopes.... Rummy were in the follow and came up ahind me asking tfor my time to take her confessions. I did in fact look about finding a closed area behind (actually next to) the stowed barge I asked her if said local would make her approval. I sat upon one of two tied kegs against the larboard rail and she across the barges hull from me. I looked up to see ciaran looking down from the crows nest and smiling large. His teeth though yellowed with years of smoke and gapped from birth was still a nice smile.

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: As Mr. Lasseter returned to the deck, he checked and made sure all was ready with the cutter and her crew... the only thing left was for the Captain to give the order to drop anchor and square away.... then the cutter would be swayed out and shortly be on its way to Margarita, carrying eleven souls to whatever awaited them on shore....

The weather was fair, getting hot, yet the winds did much to battle the rising temperature.

Mr. Lasseter gained the quarterdeck, checking and rechecking their heading, trying to keep himself busy until the word was given... many things were afoot, many dealings to be had....::

[William Brand]

When William was satisfied that they were as close as they could come without being under the range of the fortress guns, he left the rail and joined Mister Warren at the wheel.

"All hands prepare to square away and drop anchor! Lend a hand, Mister Warren. I'll have the handling of the wheel for the moment."

The crew gathered to the weatherdecks. The Watch Dog was now as close to La Margarita as the Captain wanted her for the present.

"SQUARE AWAY! DROP ANCHOR!"

[Dorian Lasseter]

::Mr. Lasseter smiled as the Best Bower splashed into the water, as the cable pulled tight and the crew hauled up the sheets he headed into the waist, ready to have the cutter swayed out and lowered into the sea...::

Right... th' crew does such a fine job...

::soon they were swinging on the hook, ready to face the mysteries of the day...::

[Jonathan Hawks]

After spending the better part of the night finishing up with forgeing things which he thought he would have finshed sooner, he ended up going to bed and sleepin real sound. As the morning bell rings, he sleeps right threw without hearing a sound. He dreams of adventures of finally going ashore after being at sea for a while.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The first thing Armand noticed upon of main deck arrival, was the quality of heat and was inwardly thankful for the choice of grey blue trappings versus the original of maroon. He paused to take notice of the goings on before spying the Captain, and proceeding to the quarterdeck. The stride which propelled the young Gascon was only hinted at in previous time, there was a manner to his carriage which had been consciencly suppressed now given full riegn.

Standing with regimentary form, he waited a respectful proximity from where William now issued orders and oversaw their action put to motion. With the removal of wide brimmed plumage, and the light cast as it was, one could just gleane the simularities that were shared in features betwixt he and his smaller companion. The angle of cheekbone, set of jawline and rounding of chin were the mark of Bertrand and if the two were joined here on this very deck by their sire, there would be no denile to the surname D'esnumbuc being a farce.

The breeze paid a kindness to all concerned, and picking up in its pace gave effort to disburse some of the Sun's angry intent.

[William Brand]

"Prepare to swing out the cutter! Cutter crew amidships!"

William walked the length of the gundeck and back to the quarterdeck shouting orders as he went and pointing with his spyglass towards the subject of each and every order.

"Secure that line! You there! Look lively! Let's not waste time and strength better spent ashore!"

William noted the presence of Armand and sent for his steward.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The pair conversed quietly, occassionally glancing to the progress being made with the cutter. A series of queries flowed in regard to what weaponry lay in hiding within the legnths of coat, not that she had not witnessed or assisted in their concealment. It was a nervousness to unseen, but possible outcomes that drove her so; and though not obvious to the casual eye, Armand was well aware of it.

The Gascon remained a portrait of cool demeanor, slying words of reasurrance as he nonchalantly watched the launch's preperation.

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

The confession was flateringly most sedate. Though renewed by my new found admiration for such a beautiful and most talented women I left Rummy to watch the goings on and found myself blessing our luanch (the cutter) and it's crew delving into uncharted waters and carrying such a heavy load it were.

God be with these men this day and protect their adventure ashore as we would gladly praise your name show mercy by giving safe passage, amen.

I turned went to my chamber changed and headed to the Galley.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::The cutter settled into the water, crew scrambled aboard to recieve supplies, arms, and all else to be stowed and concealed...::

A'right lads, keep to it... we gonna be off rightly...

::He made his way to the Quarterdeck and stood while the Captain, Armand, and the Surgeon spoke of what events were to take place....::

[Pirate Petee]

*Walking the line making sure that the proper charge was in each artillery bucket. He sits down on a cannon and writes a gun watch schedule and roster. He gets up and heads to the main mast where he posts it. Calling to the gunners that are at there station.*

No worries lads, yall be gettin yer chance ta be goin a shore. Just donna wanta be leavin our girl unprotected like.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgeon kept a quiet vigil, sparsly interjecting points as she deemed fit. There was no need to go into any great depth here, she and Armand had done the groundwork the night before with a rehashing in the early morning hours. The issues to be handled were laid systematicly and the less announced, the more smoothly things would run.

Dorian's approach to the Holy Ground broke her train of thought in brief, then she refocused on the verbose that continued betwixt William and Armand. The time for telling was gaining headway, Tempest gave not a second thought to Fournier's intentions, she knew his ways to well. It was the nagging of the unpredictable that haunted her thoughts, variables that could occure with little to no warning in an unfamiliar port of call...and Spanish, at that.

[William Brand]

William watched the final preparations in and around the cutter. He thanked Mister Youngblood for preparing a watch roster for the gunnery crew.

"Mister Lasseter. You may go ashore at your leisure."

The Captain's Steward arrived with a satchel containing several documents and some of the ship's purse. He went through the contents, careful to note those documents which might secure good favor in these waters. He presented them to Mister Lasseter and Armand.

"Speed, but caution, Gentlemen. Speed, with caution."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Not wishing the Quartermaster any aggrivation to healing injury, Armand accepted the leather satchel's weight and slinging it over left shoulder, nodded to William.

" I can assure you Capitaine, all will be handled as should be."

Placing a hand upon the Surgeon's shoulder, the Gascon leaned forward to whisper private exchange before looking to Dorian with a glint of mischief playing expression.

"So Monsuier Lasseter, shall we see what delight we can persue on beconing shores? I am readied to depart at your word."

[Dorian Lasseter]

Why, Monsuier D'esnumbuc... I s'pect there be plenty o' "delights" ta be had...

::Mr. Lasseter said, catching the mischeviousness of Armand's question...::

Business first... come, Lad.... now is as goode a time as any... Cap'n, see you soon.... Tempest, I shal take care o' yer lad 'ere... bring 'im back in one piece... If he'll let me... see you soon...

::He smiled at the Surgeon, winked... then cocked his head towards Armand...::

Off we go then....

:: he turned and headed into the waist of the ship, gained the notch in the rail and gave a slight bow, allowing Armand to get aboard the cutter before him. Once he reached the small deck, the QuarterMaster started down the side of the ship, effortlessly gaining the deck of the cutter he called out to the crew..::

Cast Off!!! Haul up th' sails and sheet 'em home!!! We're off ta see wot this wee bit o' Spain has ta offer th' likes o' us...

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Sleeves rolled up taking a sip of red wine in between each step of the main meals preparation the monsignor is fairly close to it's royaly presented finish, yams in a buttery white wine cheese and garlic dish, spinach and eucra. Then to cap it all, beach style roasted pig with a pinapple, mango, chile salsa and tea. Taht is tonights menu. Just after printing the sign to post upon main mast he was headed up the common when that haunting flute was hitting some very strange musical ranges , combinations of chords and notes never heard quite so... well? Put together before enchanting it was almost olde Elven style......

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

William watched the final preparations in and around the cutter.  He thanked Mister Youngblood for preparing a watch roster for the gunnery crew. 

"Mister Lasseter.  You may go ashore at your leisure."

The Captain's Steward arrived with a satchel containing several documents and some of the ship's purse.  He went through the contents, careful to note those documents which might secure good favor in these waters.  He presented them to Mister Lasseter and Armand.

"Speed, but caution, Gentlemen.  Speed, with caution."

Tudor stood by her captain's side, ready for his next order, and only occasionally taking the odd glance out towards the cutter that was slowly shrinking as it made it's way towards the land nearby. "Wish me to fetch you some dinner Sir?" She said cutting her gaze back to the Captain. "I hear Diego's put on something of the spectacular nature for the meal."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

As the cutter gained way into the fortified bay, her crew kept their attention centered on her passage and the quay of choice ahead. Crossing the calmer waters, side glances were snuck now and again as they passed a managerie of craft and their crews. Curious faces scrutinized the new commers and the origin from which they came, a likened manner to those milling the docks and shoreline nearing. As they drew close to mooring of choice, the Quartermaster called forward to crew requesting the oars be unshiped as canvas was gathered and secured.

Armand turned in his seating to gain Dorian's attention, speaking as quietly as possible over the sounds of operation.

"Monsuier...before we are to step ashore, I must ask you." He paused, as if considering next wording. " Do you have any gift for d'Espagne way of speaking?"

The Quartermaster sat a bit taller at his station, giving off a manner of authority and puffing his chest as though he were a scholar of the subject. The two men eyed each other briefly before Dorian cracked a smile announcing in mock pride, " My Spanish is...tis as good as me French."

Armand cocked his head slightly to the left, one eye narrowed, " As good as your French, Monsuier Lasseter?"

Dorian expression became a portrait of seriousness, " Which be as good as me Dutch."

"Au nom du ciel..." The Gascon hung his head mock dispair. " We are doomed." Slying a sidelong look to the other, he started to smile which became a chuckle, which in turn evolved into a full laugh.

Dorian acted as though he had been struck, a facade that he was unable to maintain as mirth quickly replace stoicism. With note of nearing an empty area amongst other smaller watercraft, the expession evolved again to that of controled cast.

"Alright then, lads...Ship oars!"

In a display of perfect choreography, the long sweeps were raised from water's surface and placed to rest within 'wale's keeping. A young boy of approxomity four and ten years leaned forward from dock surface to catch bow line for securing.

Standing carefully, Armand greeted the boy and thanked him for his aid. The warm smile widened as a coin was given in gratitude to his service and asked where it was that the harbour master may be found. The boy, Estaban by name, replied proudly that his grandfather oversaw this area of the quay and he would be happy to take the Frenchman to where he was.

Thanking the boy again, Armand turned to Dorian, " It would be best for you and the other's to stay here while I speak to the gentleman who oversees this area. I will not be gone overlong."

He noted the Quartermaster's raise of brow and grinned, " Monsuier, I think that you and I both know, on some level, that the chance of harm to my person...is not a likely thing."

With Esteban's offer of hand, Armand gained footing on dock surface and followed to a small structure in the near distance.

[The Doctor]

Jack watched the cutter depart from the ship, and after some length turned toward the quarterdeck of the ship. He could see the Captain and his steward there, Captain Brand still surveying the surrounding area. Jack closed his eyes and listened to the ship as she rocked quietly at anchor. With several of her senior officers and able hands gone ashore in the cutter, the Watch Dog felt a bit like a house with all the children gone. Alive, to be sure, but too sedate.

He shook off this reverie and went briskly to the main deck, to find what the good Blacksmith had been able to do with that massive old Claymore.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Returning to the cutter's crew, the Gascon nodding in indication to the elderly gentleman that had acompanied him and gave introduction in Spanish then swithched to English to repeat in reverse.

" Monsuier Jimenez has been very hospitable to our needs. He assures that the cutter will be well looked after and invites you all to come ashore and to enjoy the comfort of a small cantina that lays just beyond his establishment. He admits that he has no abilities at Anglais, but that the proprietor's son is familiar with the language. Monsuier Jimenez's son has a grasp of the tongue as well, he will be returning within a few hours with the fish boats. "

Armand glanced to the bent figure of the Elder, who smiled broadly to the men in the cutter's confine. Focusing on the Quartermaster, Armand continued, his manner reflecting former life of regimental command.

" He has given me the name of a gentleman that owns a stable near here where I may obtain a horse and pack animal to transport the medeira, as well as directions to Monsuier Vasquez's chateau. I do not think that I should be away overlong and..."

He paused in verbose in reaction to the Quatermaster's expression, "Something bothers you, Monsuier Lasseter?"

Dorian stood shaking his head in negation, " No ye don', lad. The Captain said I was to go along with an' I told yer mistress I would be bringin' ye back in one piece. Mister Warren can be tendin' to the rest o' the crew in me absence. I don'na feel like facin' the disgruntles o' either one."

Knowing full well how stuborn Celts could be, the young Frenchman decided that arguing the point would be a fruitless pursuit and giving a nod of ascent, held out a hand to pull Dorian to the planking. As the taller man gained his balance, Armand leaned close.

"Dorian, I do not think placing you on horseback is a wise idea with consideration given to your recent injury...But, I also know that it will do me nothing more than a waste of time to attempt alter of your decision. This time I will concede."

The Irishman grinned as Armand stood back and as in afterthought. "Monsuier Lasseter, I must ask this..." Hesitating verbose to give his companion a quick look of scrutiny before continuing, " I would think you know your way around a horse?"

Dorian worked hard to keep his mirth under control while viewing the unshure expression that washed over Armand's features.

"Hmmm...Ye point the nose in'na directs tha' ye be wantin' to go... an' ye go."

The Gascon's eyes widened a hair at the statement and he started to make protest.

"Nay lad, ye don' go worryin' yerself..." A grin of mischief appeared, " I can keep meself in'na seat better than I can speak French er Dutch."