Pyrates of the West Coast

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Ms. Smith.... where ye be takin' our 'guest'? She's ta get no comfort from bein' in shade... put 'er back ta th' ringbolt...

:: the look on the QuarterMaster's face was grim... his eyes flicked to the bedraggled form of 'Lady Ilex', his jaw clenched and relaxed...::

On'y mercy she'll get is not bein' thrown by th' board here an' now.... If ye call tha' mercy.... back ta th' ringbolt.... in th' full measure o' th' sun...

She instantly turned to obey, but she looked towards the Quatermaster, questions in her eyes. "Sir, I was looking to save me own skin, not the Lady's. I assure you . . . there would be no comforts for her if I took her below." She said, that malignat look still in her eyes - a look that said it would be far worse for Ilex if left alone with Tudor. But still, Tudor obiediently ran Ilex's binds through the ring bolt. She had planned for subtler techniques in beating any information from Ilex, but she could adapt. Why she felt such malice towards her, to the point where she no longer wanted to just beat the prisioner, but to inflict pain of both physical and mental varaiety, Tudor was unsure, and it unnerved her just a little, for all that was called for was a little dose of a comman beating.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::The QuarterMaster leaned over the rail, closing the gap between himself and Ms. Smith...::

I want th' crew ta see wot becomes o' traitors... I want all ta see.... see tha' I will not put up wi' back stabbin' o' any sort...

Please... use wot methods ye deem worthy... iffn' yer headed too far... I'll remind ye tha' I want her kept alive, for a short time longer... unless she proves ta be worthless...

::With that said, he straightened, crossed his hands behind his back and looked at the wilted form of the traitorous woman tied to the deck.......::

[William Brand]

Le Requiem

The small party halted, parting to reveale the Dutchman, scrubbed roughly clean for presentation. The manacles hung heavily from wrists and came just short of bite at ankles. Muller's eyes gave a cast of rebellious content barely contained, hatred overcast the other as he looked upon the gathering before him. Due to his mannerisms, the Dutchman had been detained with those deemed of more dangerous nature and his cell mates had not proved kindly to his physical being. The two survivors of the Seven had taken every opportunity to show their displeasure and the men assigned to guard both cells had turned blind eye. Rabid dogs, were rabid dogs and if it was in their nature to bite one another then so be it.

It was here, on this mock square of battefield that "Traitor" looked upon "King" and began to roar defiance. A roar that was allowed two words before being cut short by the contact of fist to jaw. Lamaire caught the dissaproving look of Dubois, not for the treatment of the Dutchman, but rather for the possibilities of opening the sutured wounds. Muller was rough handled to stand with respect to his betters and for a fleeting moment, the look of hatred was replaced by one of fear...

There was a silence that passed between all present. Fournier had placed control of the interchange in William's hands with a nod, but so far, William had said nothing. He just stood passively regarding Muller in a disregarding way that was more unsettling than anger. Muller was growing increasingly agitated under that quiet regard. Still, it went on. It was an infectious silence that spread to all, and when all that could be heard was the ship itself, and just before Fournier seemed about to speak, William began his assault on Muller.

"How now, Mister Muller? I trust you are well?"

William's words were barely above a whisper. Muller didn't seem to know what to do with this.

"Here you stand, a dog proxy for another dog. How long have you padded down the trail of treachery with Van Buren?" William asked slowly, almost conversationally. " How long did she whisper her tales of infamy and revenge in your ear? Was it a year? Was it two? Did she buy you off with promises or something more tangible and temporary?"

Muller's lip curled. Just that. It was enough for Lamaire to narrow his eyes and Muller, noticing this ever so subtle threat on Lamaire's part, uncurled his lip.

William walked forward then. He crossed the distance between them until he was so close that Muller almost stepped back. He was in the man's face and now seemed to study Muller like he was a specimen under his controlling microscope.

"You poor fool. If you believed but one word she spoke of me you would not have dared to cross me in my place. If you had believed that I was capable of even a portion of those atrocities attributed to me, you should not have crossed the world to find me. Or was it something other than revenge that hooked you? Was it some solitary word that bought you like a Judas? Was it a promise of gold? Did she whisper silver duckets in the dark? Did she spread wide her legs as she spread wide your feeble imagination with a glory of words?"

The effect these words had on Muller were strange. One might have thought he would grow angry, but he straightened, as if justified by William's accusations and revelations. He looked as though he meant to play the gallant hero, standing tall under a barrage of accusations.

"You made your bed with her. Now you will lie in it, as you lied with her while she lied. You saw fit to play the proxy for her revenge. Now you will play the proxy for my revenge of her. The lives she took of those innocent and good men who fell aboard the Danzig. The many attacks upon my crew. And greater still, for that crime that goes beyond lives taken and lives abused. You will suffer for the lies she spoke through smiles when she came into the fold of my ship and supped among my friends."

William's lip was curling now. His face was heating and showing signs of boiling.

"I went into dangers for your benefit. I took on errands whereby you might profit as a member of my crew. You ate my bread. You drank my wine. And all the while you laughed with her in the secret meeting places of the Watch Dog's holds while you conspired to sell me into death!"

William's voice had slowly ascended to a volume that thundered in Muller's face. Then he stopped and a long silence followed. Muller, for the first time since coming on deck, seemed genuinely frightened. That fear he had shown before paled by comparison. He began to speak. It was a halting and fumbled attempt that William cut short with a backhanded slap that was as sharp and short as a rifle report.

"You damnable dog. You cur. You unrepentant mongrel. You will now know what I am capable of first hand ere you go to Hell."

William walked away, and this, more than anything before, made Muller recoil. He wrapped his arms about him as alone in some cold that William had left with his curses as he went. William stopped beside Fournier with his back to Muller, saying nothing more. He didn't have to.

Muller was returned to the company of the other dogs.

[Pew]

::Watching the show upon deck, I get to me feet, and go to Mr. Lasseter.::

"A word wit ya sah. In the midst of findin' the Cap'n and such Pete Straw and I found sometin of 'nterest to both ye and crew of the Watch Dor 'ere . .. "

::My voice, trailing off, and spoken in a low whisper piques his interest . . ::

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: arching an eyebrow at Mr. PEW, the QuarterMaster looked at him, then at the lady...::

Come up here Mr. PEW... tell me wot ye know....

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

"aye sir." Tudor said then turned, but paused and faced the Quatermaster again. "Sir, with your permission . . . I never liked having an unfair advantage - hitting someone that was tied up. Permission to unchain her? I promise, she won't get anywhere"

"Leave at least one hand tied so as she can't escape." Was his answer. Tudor nodded shortly, then swaggered over to where Ilex was chained. Without word or warning, Tudor's small but tight fist was firmly implanted into the prisioner's eye socket. The yelp of pain was short but shrill. "I have every respect for whores . . ."Tudor yelled at Ilex, then placed her first in her other eye. "But whores who meddle in affairs they don't understand and get people killed . . ."She knelt down to where Ilex was crumpled on th deck, she grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled her head back so as to look into her now racoon like features. "Then we have problems. Leave the conspiracy to me, darlin." She said in a whispered tone, then shoved her back into the ground, and sharply jabbed her heel into Ilex's spine, leaving it there to pin her"I know you're in pain . . . I felt it enough to know it when I see it . . ." Indeed, the unnatural angle at which Ilex's arm was being twisted by her binds was more pain then most people felt in a life time. "That and I've killed stronger men then you with a single blow . . . but it can all end know . . . for a price." She paused again, to let her words settle into her head beyond the pain. "How much is your life worth to?"

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Le Requiem

The legnth of burnished mohagany once again was spread with fine fare. Where there had been two of company ealier in the day, there now were four. Conversation was light in nature betwixt the Capitaine, Second, Chirurgien and Guest. Finishing the remains of quail upon plate, Jean-Micheale dabbed mouth with linen then centered on William.

"I trust you have enjoyed your time in our company, mon ami...Though I am sure you are eager for other surrounds." The Frenchman paused to refill William's wine goblet. " There are options to be had, the sloop shall be departing us soon for Martinique if you wish to make that your destination. I, on the other hand, am in no rush to return to those shores. Le Requiem's stores are not in need of restocking, so I am at the wind's whim as to where we set courses next."

Taking his own goblet in hand, he gently swirled its' content in crimson whirl. " Our good Docteur, has told me that you are recovering well and may be released to your own bidding in another day or two. I am sure you yern for your own command returned to you as soon as possible. There fore, I can so far as to try to reunite you with your vessel if you have knowledge of where she may currently be"

Partaking of crystal content, Fournier waited for his guest's reply.

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Talk had gone in and around the town the class I was going to teach was on basic close order combat starting with sword fighting. I woke in the morning thinking it be time for a good hearty breakfast and found it as such. Waiting for my arrival to the kitchen was Evelyn and Casandra Ruiz, sisters and housekeepers here at the Mission. Their father and mother see to the fields and livestock here as well. I ate and went out into the barn where I met with Senor Ruiz and told him of the need to produce fighting Practice sticks made from reeds and tied for strength to resemble the feel and size of swords I drew a picture for him and went to town to talk with the blacksmith.

[William Brand]

Le Requiem

The legnth of burnished mohagany once again was spread with fine fare. Where there had been two of company ealier in the day, there now were four. Conversation was light in nature betwixt the Capitaine, Second, Chirurgien and Guest. Finishing the remains of quail upon plate, Jean-Micheale dabbed mouth with linen then centered on William.

"I trust you have enjoyed your time in our company, mon ami...Though I am sure you are eager for other surrounds." The Frenchman paused to refill William's wine goblet. " There are options to be had, the sloop shall be departing us soon for Martinique if you wish to make that your destination. I, on the other hand, am in no rush to return to those shores. Le Requiem's stores are not in need of restocking, so I am at the wind's whim as to where we set courses next."

Taking his own goblet in hand, he gently swirled its' content in crimson whirl. " Our good Docteur, has told me that you are recovering well and may be released to your own bidding in another day or two. I am sure you yern for your own command returned to you as soon as possible. There fore, I can so far as to try to reunite you with your vessel if you have knowledge of where she may currently be"

Partaking of crystal content, Fournier waited for his guest's reply.

"I couldn't say where the Watch Dog has gone, or even if it has gone. It might be anywhere at this moment, and like my command before, it might remain so."

William paused to sample the remaining fare on the table before continuing.

"Speculation on the subject might run into the late hours of tomorrow, though I suspect if I were to find her anywhere, it would be somewhere near or about La Margarita. Mister Lasseter might still be anchored there shelling the beachhead. Mister Youngblood may yet be having his way with the dockshops. I might return to find the whole place leveled to the Earth."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Jean-Micheale listened intently to all that William contemplated verbally. Finishing the rouge tinctured fluid he set the goblet carefully down at table's edge and considered the options momentarily. The amber sights cut to physician and kindred, a smile of mischievous hue giving fore notice to the other Frenchmen of new courses to be set and the name rolled to hearing, " La Margarita..."

Lamaire echoed his cousin's expression, glancing quickly to William. Dubois sighed with exaspiration and focused on the plate before him. Fournier recentered to William and nodded in secretive delight to what the destination would hold. Refilling the empty goblet, he spoke with deep sincerity, " Then, mon ami...I think it only of the wisest of choices that we go to said island, and if luck plays us fair, we shall find your comrades in arms somewhere there about. It has been sometime since we have had the pleasure of gracing that jewel's shores and I must say that I have always found the local fair most...accommodating."

Taking a sweet bread from near platter, Jean-Micheale tore away a small piece, " We shall depart this eve and make way for the area of which is most likely to be of success to your want. If we are unsuccessful, Don Vasquez can be a most generous host and may be able to provide further information."

[Dorian Lasseter]

::As Mr. Lasseter waited for PEW the gunner to ascend to the holy ground, he watched as the Captain's Steward used some pugilism on their 'guest', he smiled slightly and shook his head....::

Hmmm..... quite th' wee brawler she be...

::As Ms. Smith yanked the woman's head back by her hair, then shoved her to the deck and put her foot into woman's back, many of the crew who had been watching reacted with a cringe. Ms. Smith spoke loud enough for all to hear about her ability at fighting, then quirried the woman of her worth... The QuarterMaster strained his ears waiting to hear what reply would be made... After a several moments, none was made... Ms. Smith looked to the Officer for direction, to which Mr. Lasseter made a small wave of his hand to say 'continue'....::

[Pew]

"Well sah, 'tis wot we got. Pete Straw and I spent some time goin' trew 'er ledgers and such to see if'n there be anything regarding our Cap'n. We didn't, but did find lots of monies that Ilex be owin' the Gov'nor. Now where it be, we 'ave a few ideas, but we need ta look at 'er charts against the charts the Cap'n 'ad in the Ward room.

We thinks the Red Curtain 'as a 'and innit"

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: Mr. Lasseter listened intently to what Mr. PEW told him about the 'lady' Ilex and her ledgers... he was still watching the show on deck while being told these things, but when Mr. PEW mentioned the Red Curtains and some charts, he took away and centered them on the man next to him...::

Indeed... show me...

Mr. Badger... I shall be in th' wardroom fer a wee bit... alert me off any happenin's...

Mr. PEW, come along....

::with that said, the Quartermaster turned and made his way off the quarterdeck and down into the passageway back to the Wardroom, Mr. PEW in tow...::

[Pew]

::Mr. Lasseter and I went below decks to discuss further . .

Mr. Lasseter opens the door to the ward room and sends for Pete Straw. I go to the corner where we have kept Ilex's satchel and papers since we departed the Ward Room for what feels like weeks ago . . .

Moving the candleholder out of the way, I unfurl her charts and maps documenting the island the ships that have been at anchor. Placing her ledger as to hold down one side of the chart, and the candleholder at the other, I begin to explain to our Quartermaster how Pete Straw had found that ALOT of monies had been secured by the Lady chained to the deck.

"Reason she was overrun sah, was 'cause she 'adn't been payin' the Gov'nor, so said her ledger. Where be 'er monies now . . ."

Mr. Lasseter slowly rubbed his chin as to be deep in thought, cocked his eye brow and then leaned on the table.

"'ere's the closest to wot Pete and I got . . ."

I pulled my dagger from it's sheath and point at the main harbour of La Margarita . . "'ere's where the Red Curtain is . . errrr. . . was . . " Mr. Lasseter chuckles, "now if'n ye look east around the point where the fort be located there be strange formation called "La Cortinas". Pete measured it out an' it 'pears to be 'bout 1 or 2 leagues east of us 'ere." I point my dagger in the map . . . :

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

::As Mr. Lasseter waited for PEW the gunner to ascend to the holy ground, he watched as the Captain's Steward used some pugilism on their 'guest', he smiled slightly and shook his head....::

Hmmm..... quite th' wee brawler she be...

::As Ms. Smith yanked the woman's head back by her hair, then shoved her to the deck and put her foot into woman's back, many of the crew who had been watching reacted with a cringe. Ms. Smith spoke loud enough for all to hear about her ability at fighting, then quirried the woman of her worth... The QuarterMaster strained his ears waiting to hear what reply would be made... After a several moments, none was made... Ms. Smith looked to the Officer for direction, to which Mr. Lasseter made a small wave of his hand to say 'continue'....::

Tudor sighed as she turned back from looking for the Quatermaster's direction and saw Ilex crumpled on the ground, whimpering and crying in pain. "Crying just makes the pain worse . . ." Tudor said with a sneer. "Trust me, I know. I've been beaten enough times in my life. See, that's what happens when you play the dangerous game you were playing and fail." She said then without warning slammed her fist against Ilex's chin, which was lifted in pride and indignation. Ilex's eyes widened and suddenly she started to cough, blood and a piece of broken tooth dribbling down her chin.

Ilex looked up at Tudor, hatred and malice seething from her. "Being a ship's whore does not give you any right to lay a hand on me!"

Tudor laughed. Not her normal, subtle giggle, but a loud scathing laugh, then silence fell after the next sound of fist against flesh and snapping bone echoed over the ship. The pain of her shattered nose left Ilex in a shock. "No - being a member of a crew gives me EVERY right to beat you when you meddle in our affairs to our detriment! Don't hide behind the fact that you are a woman when you loose playing a man's game!" She yelled at the crumpled heap on the deck, spitting angrily on Ilex's now blood soaked dress. She growled in frustration and then turned. "I need a drink." SHe said huskily, then looked at McGinty. "Keep an eye on her for a few minutes." she said then looked at the prisioners stiff and pale form. "I doubt she'll be giving you much trouble. It'll take a few for the pain to kick in."

[Dorian Lasseter]

I pulled my dagger from it's sheath and point at the main harbour of La Margarita . . "'ere's where the Red Curtain is . . errrr. . . was . . " Mr. Lasseter chuckles, "now if'n ye look east around the point where the fort be located there be strange formation called "La Cortinas". Pete measured it out an' it 'pears to be 'bout 1 or 2 leagues east of us 'ere." I point my dagger in the map . . . :

::Looking at the map, then at the two sailors, the left corner of Dorian's mouth curled into a smile...::

I see... so ye be thinkin' tha' our 'guest' has a wee hideaway fer 'er illgotten wealth... a fortune fer th' takin'... mayhaps I'll ply 'er with some o' wot ye found in 'er ledger... either she gonna tell th' lie, or she gonna try ta save 'er skin... mayhaps...

::He stood from leaning over the charts, folded his arms in front of him, and slowly paced the width of the ward... occasionally he was looking at the deck, other times the overhead... the two lads just watched him as he did so, not daring to break whatever he was in thought on... after a short time he stopped, turned to the lads...::

I do believe we may be able ta smoke 'er out... show me in th' ledger where ye see the grande amounts... an' how d'ye know she ain't been payin' th' gov'ner 'is due? ye sure tha's wot she wrote? Tha' she din't pay 'im? Hmmm....

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

The towns blacksmith was a very young man I talked long with him. his father and his fathers father was a blacksmith and both were killed here in thistown and both by pirates. It seemed every time I turned around another family had been touched by pirates in a negative way. I metioned to juan hidalgo ramirez his right as a man was his freedom and the oppressors will sonn know why this town is off limits to pirates. I ordered one hundred tewenty blades 30 cutlasses, 30 corsairs, 20 long knifes, 20 trowing axes and 20 battle axes. I also ordered 1000 arrow tips. I had no idea how it would all be paid for but it was all to be hidden never to be seen by anybody a secret cache of weapons stored for use in the mission to protect the city! He was very excited and said he would come to me with many drawings of different styles and types to pick from. before midday on the morrow he said. I smiled and bowed thanking him....

[CaptainCiaran]

(High above it all, in the basket, Ciaran suddenly jerks as if awakened from a deep sleep; his heart is pounding and his pulse racing)

Shiver me timbers!

(the mate's deadlights are wide open and as he holds onto the basket, he slowly looks around.....then.....feeling more secure to be in his familiar place, he takes a deep breath and relaxes)

Blimey. I feel as if I've been away fer a long time, like I've been out of me body here or someting.

(his eyes narrow, as if he is tryin to remember)

Captain William, I dreamed something about our captain being kidnapped.....and the Monsignor....Diego, he was off in a strange land.....

(Ciaran closes his eyes and turns his face toward the sun. He breathes deeply and feels calm)

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Tudor trudged her way out of the galley. The drink she had hope would refresh her did no such thing, and she felt weary, the rush of energy that her violence had given her now gone, leaving her numb and tired. She paused for a moment, then set her course for the ward room, instead of to where Ilex was chained. She rapped on the door quickly, then stepped inside. "Mr. Lasseter sir, I still have not beaten any information out of the prisoner." She paused momentarily. "I bloody well shattered her nose and she still only has insults to give us. If you order me to continue, I fear she might end up . . a little worse for the wear, let us say." She said. "What are your orders."

"Leave her shackled on the deck, then be about your buisness." He said, looking up from the map he and Mr. Pew.

She nodded her head in salute, then backed out the door. Making her way topside, again, she wandered the decks, trying to clear he head with the fresh air and cool breeze. She froze midstep, when she recongnised, what she had assumed was just another crew member leaning on the port rail in the waist, as Armand. With caution, she approached. "Monsiuer D'esnumbuc," She addressed him formally, leveling her eyes at his chest. "Are you at liberty? There are some matters I would like to discuss with you . . ." She paused and looked around. "In private, of course." She added sheepishly, not being fool enough to want to reapeat her previous mistake.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Gascon scrutinized her cooly for a moment then gave a small nod of accord. " As you wish, Mademoiselle Smith."

He straightened to full heigth and waited for her to give indication of direction.

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Tudor lead the way in silence to Orlop. It would be just about the only place they could go where they would be able to work anything out without being interuppted. The silence remained until they had reached the deck above the bildge, and even pervaded a few moments after they had reached their destination.

She finally turned to look at him, her silvery grey eyes large and liquid. If ever she were to cry, now would be the moment, but no matter how much she felt she wanted to, tears would not come. "What do you want from me?" She asked, her voice thick with emotion.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Armand kept to a respectable distance, standing at parade ease. No emotion crossed his angled features and little was to be noted in the inflection of verbose as he replied,

" Que? Manquer?...Pas grand-chose."

He scrutinized her cooly, " Je voudrais pas grand-chose."

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

With a squeaking growl of frustration, Tudor's face contorted in rage and her fists clenched. She quickly turned away, again to avoid making mistakes she had in the last confrontation.

"Obviously . . ." She shouted as she spun back around "You do! First of all - nothing I do - or have done - is quite good enough for you! I didn't react just the right way to you spending the night with me - well, my apologies, but I was unsure of the next move, so caution was the tact I was using. A little understanding would have been apprechiated! And then, then I reacted very badly, VERY badly to your trying to protect me. I've admitted that, and apologised profuselly and put myself at your whim to make that up to you, and you cast that aside like a torn garment! Short of cutting myself open and bleeding to death in front of you on the deck there's not much more I can do!" Her eyes were full of confusion, anger and pain, and still fliting from object to object, refusing to look straight at the person she was confronting. "So, I ask my question again - What do you want from me?!"

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

He regarded her calmly, allowing her words to hang the air briefly and replying very level toned, though the wording was basted with icy undertones.

" Tu se couvrir de ridicule, Mademoiselle Smith. Je il n'est pas bete..." The grey sights narrowed slightly. " As I said, I desire nothing. You wish to put yourself in a man's place and I shall comply. My descisions in regard to the Don were those I would have made in command of any situation where I was unsure of a subordinates abilities. I will not and never have, jeapordized the good of the many for the sake of one's want. In regard to our liaison...it is in the past. We shall call it a moment of passion derived from instincts under high stress and conditions. You owe me no further obligation..."

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

"This isn't about the Don anymore!" She cried out, pinching the bridge of her nose.

She finally looked up at him, on unfamilar ground once more, and she found herself speaking what she was thinking without regard to what it was. "What if I don't want it to be in the past?" She couldn't bring herself to wait for his reaction, finally realising the folly of making herself so vulnerable. "Nevermind . . . it doesn't matter . . ." She said then turned away.