Pyrates of the West Coast

[Dorian Lasseter]

::Looking through his glass he sighted the topsails of a ship...::

Hmmmm... still hull down... mebee a brig...

Grande work, Lad... keep an' eye on 'er... might get interestin'...

::He collapsed his glass and made his way back to the deck... he walked about the rows of great guns, seeing the crew at the ready, cutlass and pikes close at hand, tubs of sand with smoking linstock...::

Excellent.... very goode... Mr. Youngblood, Mr. St. Anthony... my compliments... Sadly wot may come is several hours away... given th' weather... iffn' she tries ta flee... we catch 'er... no worries there...

::Mr. Lasseter smiled and nodded, then made his way aft, up to the Quarterdeck and stood at the weather side of the deck... ::

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Ater seeing the Quatermaster quickly diffuse the situation with the giant, she silently uncocked the pistols and holstered them back in her belt, but still wary, her eyes flitted about the deck, jumping between Ajay and Mr. Lasseter, making sure a respectable distance was kept between them.

As she kept her vigil, she started to pace the decks, anxious to close the distance that was between them and the ship they had spotted. Action was all but a forgone conclusion and she relished the potential. Only in hand to hand combat would she feel useful again, as if she contributed something to this crew.

She watched as the ships came nearer, fingers itching over pistol stocks.

[Pew]

::While reeving the lines and cordage wrapped upon the gunwale I hear our lookout wail that there is a sail spotted onthe horizon. Crew members flock to the railing to peer into the distance to make out the barely visable shape of a sail heading away from us. I make my way to my bunk and retrieve my spyglass to peer at this unknown vessel.::

[CaptainCiaran]

(Slowly the ship on the horizon draws close enough that Ciaran can -- with the help of his glass -- make out more about it)

Mister Lasseter, (Ciaran yells) the ship appears to be a merchant. And, she be flying the flag of Spain. With her present position and speed, I'd say that we should come within a couple miles of one another, Sir. I see little activity on her deck at present.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::Mr. Lasseter tried to act as if it were just another day, sailing to a destination, tried to keep the edge off and not pace the holy ground like a caged animal. Try as he might, he could not help but to walk to the binnacle, check their heading, walk back to the rail, then repeat the journey in five minutes time.... His palms tingled slightly, a feeling that they would be engaged in some action soon... He looked up at the crows nest, up to Ciaran, waiting for him to sing out some description of the ship they were bearing down upon, he hoped for a merchant, more so, he hoped for it to be the ship that held the Captain, even though it was a long shot that it was... WHatever it was they would soon be upon it, even if the ship tried to flee, they would be on it's heels, a shot or two from the bow chasers would be enough, unless the captain was a fool....

He continued to go between the binnacle and the rail, finally taking his glass out and looking to where the ship should be... through his glass he could make out the sails, but still could not see the hull, atleast from the deck... Then, his prayers were answered, Ciaran called out what could be seen from his vantage... ::

Hmmm.....Very goode... tis a brig... Spanish.... Hmmm... mayhaps we be kind an' jest seek knowledge.... 'r mebee not...

::taking his eye from the glass he looked up the deck, seeing others producing small telescopes and spy glasses, trying to get a better look, much like he was... some of the crew noticed that the QuarterMaster had turned his focus on them and were elbowing or nudging their mates, so they might show some decorum and get back to their posts... It made him stiffle a chuckle, made him feel honoured to be among these men and women... ::

Mr. Badger... two points ta larb'd.... we gonna cross paths wi' th' merchant...

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

It was obvious as the Quartermaster was predisposed with so many things all with the need to focus upon each with ernst he missed the frown and commitment of recognizable inteligence in Ajayi's knowing that while he be the chief the man known as Redwake, though gone missing, is the captain. He also be knowing that it was his very own blood and sweat that gave him cause to bring the information the Monsignor had written in a note and sent back to the ship over fifteen miles of jungle and mountian paths to which obviously nothing had been done or even addressed. Sure Ajayi was a tribal black man, a giant of a man. Fact was Ajayi was his tribes chief and he wasn't stupid and what rose to the top to him was there was certaainly no love lost atween the captain and the chief.

He turned and prayed the red headed captain were alive went below to the galley where he acted out to the galley keep he wished to learn to read.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::As the sands of time slowly ran through the glass, the merchant brig came closer and closer...::

Mr. Warren, run th' spanish colours up... though they may think it a ruse, it might get us close afore they might feel threattened an' run...

Mr. PEW... Ye speak a passin' bit o' spanish, mayhaps a wee bit more polished than me own... I may 'ave need o' ye ta speak wi' the cap'n o' the merchant...

:: Mr. Lasseter stepped to the taffrail and spoke out to the crew...::

A'right Lads, we gonna see wot this ship be about... I know I had ye beat ta quarters, but ta make tems think we ain't a threat.... I need alla ye but a handfull ta head below... make us look like we ain't got but a handful o' crew... keep at th' ready, wait fer th' signal ta come topside ready ta board... Off ye go now....

::Knowing grins appeared all around as most of the crew made their way below, leaving a skeleton crew to man the deck...::

Ciaran! Any happenin's on deck yonder?

[CaptainCiaran]

Nay, Sir. I count (holding glass to eye) about six men. Of course, they could be doin' the same as we, Sir, but fer now only about six be in view. (Ciaran smiles) And, their lookout be lookin' at us.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::The QuarterMaster nodded at Ciaran,::

Aye... give 'em a friendly wave then!

:: As he looked over the water, Mr. Lasseter waved at them, hoping he was being looked upon at the time... hoping to give them a sense of relaxation, and not of apprehension. He took a glance up at the masthead, where the red and gold spanish flag danced on the breeze, glad that they had such a well stocked flag locker...::

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

the need to prepare the village people to fight for thier freedoms here in San Pedro de Coche was overwhelming to me. Many classes had come and gone but these men mostly old men were farmers not military and what few ranchers and all the ranch hands were so far from town they would prove useless on short notice. the boys aren't strong enough to hold a line. I was entering into a doldrum of being without all that was needed. I would address the problem tomorrow after mass! I would tell, no suggest that the women be archers and learn the bow!

[Pirate Petee]

*Walks slowly up to the quartermaster.*

Orders fer me gunnars Sir?

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aye Mr. Youngblood... keep outta sight, below 'r against th' gunn'ls... I'll give ye th' command ta open th' gun ports, if necessary.... tho, when we gets close enough, fire a signal shot from the bow, starb'd side swivel... as a hail ta heave to... iffn' tha' don't work... well.... then a shot across th' bow...

::He smiled at the Master Gunner, a slightly mischevious look in his eyes....::

[Pirate Petee]

Aye, sir. I'll have the crews stay low an make da guns read ta be run out. A combanation o round shot and grape, in every other gun should suffice, pending on the situation.

[CaptainCiaran]

(The Spanish brig drew closer, close enough that Ciaran no longer needed his glass to make out the movement of men on deck. Still he used the magnification for the subtler details, such as the fact that now there were two officers standing on its deck looking and pointing toward the Watch Dog.)

Mister Lasseter, there be much more movement about the Spanish vessel now, as ye are probably noticing, too. I see two officers on deck and a flurry of movement. Looks to be a dozen hands or more on deck and quite a bit of running to and fro, from the deck below and back up.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Excellent Mr. Youngblood... make it so...

::As Ciaran hailed the Quartermaster again, stating the higher amount of activity aboard the merchant, he brought his glass to bear... he noticed the officers, on their quarterdeck. He watched as they spoke to each other, occasionally one turned to the waste of the ship and shouted, making hand gestures along with the words, then the other brought a spyglass to his eye, looking at the Watch Dog, directly at Mr. Lasseter... So, he lowered his glass, smiled and waved with his hat to the officer, most likely the captain of the merchant. He placed his hat back on his head and turned his glass to them, seeing what kind of reaction the wave had... It seemed the two officers were arguing... it looked as if one was suspicious and the other was taken in by the ruse, happily wanting to sail over and see if there was any news or trades to be had between the two ships...::

Ciaran! Do ye happen ta see iffn' they be armed? I expect they'd 'ave no more'n four pounders, if any great guns a'tall...

[CaptainCiaran]

(using glass again)

Aye, Sir, all I see is a couple swivel guns (probably 2 or 3-pounders) on 'er. Don't see anything big at all.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::Looking back up at Ciaran as he reported the merchant's armament, he smiled wickedly...::

Why tha's grande...

Mr. Youngblood! My compliments and will ye fire th' starb'd bow swivel...

:: The QuarterMaster stood with his hands behind his back, waiting to see what reaction the merchant's captain would have... As the 'Dog had the weather guage, if they ran, it would be for naught...::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Le Requiem

Sail had been reported on two occasions as evening had worn into the deeper shades of ink tincture. Phantoms bound for Puerto Anywhere, who's existance on evening blue water would go on without notice; but, to those of raptor sights and predatory intentions. And noted they were, but Le Requiem's Master was quite sated in appetite of such quary at current. Change of bearing to persue either, would cause delay to quenching cravings of other desires.

Madame Nuit retreated to the West, passing reign to Mademoiselle Aurore and the blackend canvas of heavenly panorama metamorphed with spashes of violet hues. Violet gave way to the entrance of salmon, and apricote ushered forth the regality of Soliel. Enveloped by a tendril of daytime ruler, Jean-Micheale Fournier lazed early morning hour upon surface of padded locker. The curve of stern window gave view to the rolling turmult of wake cast behind as Le Requiem forged her way onward.

The dim surround of warm wood panel lay in hushed repose, almost as if in a state of reverance to the "prince" of the wooden nation it cradled within. The Symphony of the Sea played undaunted and steadfast, a lullaby to those above and below the liquid border; a lulling sooth to the Frenchman from Marseille. Thoughts drifted through his mind, focused and yet not, gossamer visages coming to call briefly before moving on. But, it was one of these visitors that gave pause to the progression of mental marching, and its visitation brought the half masted amber sights to full open.

Readjusting posture on padded support, Fournier allowed left leg to dangle while contemplating the man called William Brand. For reasons unfathomable to Jean-Micheale's hieghtened skills of deductability, the Moerae had seen fit to intertwine the man of crimson crown and himself. The Frenchman was not one to cave in to the ussual superstitious nature of those called to the Sea, but the circumstances that had brought the two men together twice in such short time did give cause for note.

The far door opened bringing his attention away from museings with the entrance of Steward and his cousin. Dominique hung by the doorway as the silver tray of strong brew was placed on the large table and its' bearer retreated. Approaching the table, Jean-Micheale poured for both as the door was closed quietly and the younger Frenchman looked on. The Capitaine took ussual seat at the head of the mahogany legnth, gesturing for the former Lieutenant to join.

Dominique scrutinized the other momentarily, partaking with relish the pungent brew. Setting the delicate vessel down and leaning forward, he commented quietly.

" We are close to La Margarita and expect to have a visual within the next turn of glass."

Fournier nodded his approval, Lamaire waited for comment and receiving none, continued.

" The standard for the House of Vasquez has been raised, our guest is above where he has been these past two turns. Shall I inform him of our proximity?"

The Capitaine seemed to contemplate the statement before replying,

"Non...I shall see to that personally. Leave him to his solace for now..."

[William Brand]

William spent his solice in quiet contemplation, planning his future and the future of the Watch Dog with care. He was glad to be going home to her again. She was a fine ship and well peopled.

He laughed aloud at the idea of being home sick for a small island of wood and canvas bobbing out there in the wide unknown.

[Kendra The Sea Maid]

*The feeling of readiness for the unknown fillterd down, giving Kendra a surge that she had not felt since she was small. Perhaps the blow to her head, had in some way changed her, or he could have been, how she saw Miss Smith carry herself. Yes, she handled the situation on deck in an un shipman manner, but what impressed Kendra the most was he lack of fear, and the fire she held with in her eyes. "I should be more like that," she thought. Her curiousity had gotten the better of her, after she finished the last stich to the Monsingor's new robes she left the safety of her quaters to see if she could be of use.

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: As the day came anew, they had come very close to the spanish merchant... the signal shot of the swivel on the Watch Dog had been given, but the merchant had changed course away from the 'Dog, so the QuarterMaster had ordered the guns run out and a shot fired across her bow, once the spanish captain saw that, he hove to and waited for what was to come...::

Mr. PEW! I do believe ye speak rather fluent spanish... I's a wee bit out o' practice... please hail th' cap'n, ask 'im where he be comin' from... ask iff'n 'e seen any other ships in th' area an' on what tack... Ask 'im wot they be carryin', mayhaps we'll relieve 'er o' somethin'...

Here, take th' speakin' horn....

::He handed the conical shaped device to the Coxswain's Mate/ Gunner and nodded his head towards the merchant, clasping his hands behind his back, Mr. Lasseter's face broke into a slightly ferral grin...::

[Pew]

Mr. PEW! I do believe ye speak rather fluent spanish... I's a wee bit out o' practice... please hail th' cap'n, ask 'im where he be comin' from... ask iff'n 'e seen any other ships in th' area an' on what tack... Ask 'im wot they be carryin', mayhaps we'll relieve 'er o' somethin'...

Here, take th' speakin' horn....

::He handed the conical shaped device to the Coxswain's Mate/ Gunner and nodded his head towards the merchant, clasping his hands behind his back, Mr. Lasseter's face broke into a slightly ferral grin...::

Aye Mr. Lasseter!!

::Taking the horn from our Quartemaster, I climb an arm's length into our rigging at the mainsail and shout over the waters:

"¡¡Buenos dias, Capitan!! ¡Tanto gusto! ¿Cómo se va?"

::Mr. Lasseter smiles as he remembers his Spanish slowly coming back to him::

"¿De dónde venéis?"

::Awaiting a reply from the Spanish, I see more crew begin to gather on the railing of the ship. A tall man carrying a similar speaking horn, leans towards a smaller man (assumed to be the Captain) dressed in finery as if to gather orders. He then stands atop their Quartedeck gunwale and replies.::

[Pew]

'¡Tanto gusto!", the voice replies.

::The speaker leans down to the man we percieve as Captain and continues

"Vivamos en Zamora de Espana. Somos mercantilos simples, de India en un viaje a La Margarita para provisiones."

::Mr. Lassester looks up at me quizzically,

"Mr. Lasseter, they say they be from Zamora, Spain, 'ere simple mechants, and they be comin' from India 'eadin' inta La Margarita for supplies."

::I put the horn back to my mouth and ask them what supplies they need and if they have seen any ships on their way in. The Spaniard replies that about 2 days ago they have seen a large French ship in the distance but were only able to make out "Le Requiem" across her stern, and that was their only contact. They need water and are low on food, I translate this to the crew and look to our Quartermaster::

"Wot ya want me ta tell 'em sah?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

::The QuarterMaster rubs his chin with his left hand, contemplating what was said...::

Well, I s'pose we c'n give' 'em provisions... seein' as 'r store 'r full... for a price o'course....

Tell 'em we'll be 'appy ta send 'em a weeks worth o' food 'n fresh water...

Mr. St. Anthony, please see to armin' twenty of 'r finest men... Rig out th' Cutter, Mr. Badger see to it tha' a weeks worth o' food n' water's swayed onta th' cutter... Mr. PEW, yer with me on th' cutter... we gonna see wot they might 'ave in trade fer our provisions... get to it, lads...

:: The QuarterMaster stood and waved at the Spaniards, the grin plastered on his face, one of pure friendliness...

He watched as th cutter was made ready, the supplies swayed down and the crew sent aboard...::

Mr. Youngblood.... If ye see anything amiss... Ye hear me yellin' ta open fire, first broadside inta their riggin' I'll 'ave ye aim 'Sofia' at their mainmast, leave nuthin' but a stump... a'ter tha'... well...

Mayhaps rig out th' barge on the far side, so' they dunna see.... best not ta sink 'em.... jest o'erwhelm 'em...

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

fIt were forty seven women that came to my first archery class. We only had eight bows made, but everyone was able to try their hand. Not too many had the muscle tone to pull the heavy strung bows back with any force at all. Though there were four sisters from the sugar farm near to the far other side of the island where i found out embarrasingly late they have been hunting with bow and arrow most all their life. I let them take over the class after three of the four of them center shot better than six to my two! The fourth threw rocks with an accuracy I have never seen before. Rocks?