Pyrates of the West Coast

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

even in the dark of night anyone could recognize the Watch Dog and there she be sittin there, waitin, wonderin what it be she needed to do next. I slipped by about three hundred feet to the larboard side and went right on into the ports mostly occupied docks. I tied off on the dock and went straight away up the main street looking fer some place open I could arrange the transfer and purchase of the cannons. The sky was still black as it were still a few hours till sun up. I was hit on the top o me head and saw nothing.... collapsing there in the street having succumbed to a trauma induced dream state I saw castles and gold lots of gold.

[Kendra The Sea Maid]

*Considering the last time she had gone below she was glad Mr. Badger, and Simon was with her. They took the sails above, the smell that reaked from the canvous was without explaination. "Whew! What a stench!" Exclaimed Simon "It smells like. . ." *Kendra shot him a glance not to finish his thought in front of a lady. As she felt her lunch coming back on her. She ran over to the rail and exspelled what was left into the sea. "Well obviously we will wait a day or two for it to all air out before we can work on it." "What do you mean we?" Badger chuckled.

"Ahh yes Mr. Badger that is most amusing." * then as she stood back she got a whif again and turnded back over the rail.

[The Doctor]

Jack emerged topside, and blinked back his reaction to the mouldy sailcloth strung above him. He immediately adopted a pinched smile, practiced from many a heated engagement to prevent him from gagging or worse at repugnant stenches. Such an expression had earned him a reputation for being indifferent to the toll of battle, but nothing could be farther from the truth.

He stood at the entrance to the aft companionway, out of sight of Kendra and her plight. He did not wish to seem amused at her predicament. He waited until her distress passed and she had somewhat regained her composure. quietly, he took up position beside her at the gunwale, looked back over his shoulder and Simon and Mr. Badger, and gave them a wink.

"Miss Kendra, perhaps this will assist your delicate constiution?" Jack produced a laced handkerchief, heavily scented with jasmine and lavender. "Hold it to your face, covering your mouth and nose. It may make you a bit sleepy, but I believe you would prefer that over the alternative, eh?"

Jack turned to face Mr. Badger and Simon, pinched his smile tighter, and breathed deep the pungent air. "Such an evening, gentlemen! Have you seen the like?"

[Kendra The Sea Maid]

"Miss Kendra, perhaps this will assist your delicate constiution?" Jack produced a laced handkerchief, heavily scented with jasmine and lavender. "Hold it to your face, covering your mouth and nose. It may make you a bit sleepy, but I believe you would prefer that over the alternative, eh?"

Jack turned to face Mr. Badger and Simon, pinched his smile tighter, and breathed deep the pungent air. "Such an evening, gentlemen! Have you seen the like?"

*She snatched Mr. Anthony's gift with much graditude* It is good to see you about sir. Although I wish it was under a more pleasent aroma." She smiled

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Having had no success in finding the ship's physician where last seen, Miss Smith doubled back to the lower depths. Making here way forward to the Surgery, she could not help but feel a tinge giddy with excitement. It was not that she was unfamiliar with the grandiose stage in which courtiers dwelled, though Tudor would be the first to admit it had been some time. The fact of the matter was, the young girl had trod more than one finely polished marble floor and in more than one nation. What knawed at her, was more a matter of being up to the Captain's expectations in such an arena...This would be a proving ground, a showing of capabilities that until this invitation, had lain tucked away in a state of hibernation.

Dropping another level within the frigate's belly, a smile of widened proportion danced her expression and quickened her pace. Just ahead lay destination, and the last of the distance was covered with something kindred to a jaunty skip of motion. Knocking on the heavy door, she gained access to the dim lumination offered within medical realm. Not waiting for answer to hail, not pausing to take in if the area were occupied, Tudor managed her bundle and swung the door to closure. With the sound of latch falling into place, the Steward heard the sound of familiar voicing from behind and froze to its' timbre at recognition. Turning slowly, she opened her mouth to speak then closed it again as in fish gasp pantomime.

Stepping away from the Doctor's writing desk Armand took in the display, eyes wandering to burden the other carried.

" I...I was looking for Miss Fitzgerald..."

Grey sights returned to center on Tudor's face, " I am sorry Mademoiselle Smith, but I have not seen her here in a number of hours. Perhaps she is still in quarters, that is where she was going when she left here earlier."

Tudor steeled herself as the Gascon approached where she stood. "Is there something that I can do to help you in the doctor's stead?"

Her cheeks gained a tincture of carnation while she made effort to conceal what she carried, " I...Non, merci." The hue deepened as she considered what knowledge the Gascon would have of the garmet in question. Backing a pace, Tudor reached for the door latch, " Merci beacoup...I will check to see if the Doctor is in her quarters, then."

Opening the door, Tudor made to take her leave then hesitated to look back over her shoulder where Armand had remained. Making attempt at light and nonchalant query, she asked, " Are you going to meet the Don?"

The Gascon nodded afirmation then questioned in turn, " Why do you ask, Mademiselle?"

Tudor held down the smile that was trying to make way to the surface and giving a small shrug replied, " Just curious..."

Having said so, she closed the door in her wake and allowed the smile to have its' way.

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

:Having said so, she closed the door in her wake and allowed the smile to have its' way. :

Armand was just one more person she would be able to prove herself too with this excursion. Although, she held no hope for . . . With steely determination, she pushed all thoughts of Armand once more from her head as she neared the door to the Doctor's quaters. She would not let emotion get in the way of duty and honour again. She had been too well and hard trained to make the same mistake yet again. And so, with all emotion and intent other then anticipation for the mission, Tudor beat her small fist against the door to Miss Fitzgerald's rooms.

[The Doctor]

Jack smiled as Kendra's discomfort began to pass. "Aye, but we take what ever conditions are granted us, don't you think?" he replied. "Simon, would you fetch the lady a dipper of water? There's a good man."

Jack's eyes went to the quarterdeck, where he could see the Captain restored to his rightful place on the ship's holy ground. The ship felt whole again.

[Kendra The Sea Maid]

*Noting too the Captain return on deck although it was not for the same reasoning as Jack's. For her heart swelled with some pride as she saw him wearing the coat she had made him.

Turning back to the rail, she commented"Yes Mr. Anthony you are right one must make the most of a given situation." *Simon returned with the water, and she took it with a nod of thanks. He had taken off his hat to wipe his brow and she saw that he had his new hat. sly smile crept across her face* "Well, Mr. Anthony I thank you for your help and conversation but I really must get back to work now." Placing the sweet smelling cloth across her face she went back to inspect the canvous

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The pinnace was lowered to the calm turquoise that lapped the corvette's wooden sides. If this had been a simply delivery, as had taken place earlier in the day, the smaller launch would have been put to task as before. But, this cargo was considered not to be trusted, requiring a compliment of armed men to ensure nothing of unwanted action should take place.

Muller had made movement to shade his eyes from the bright glare of soliel. With the passage of numerous days spent in Requiem's ill lit brig, the lumination of simple daylight became a painful endevour. Hesitating in movement in effort to adjust to new environment was answered harshly by forceful shove. Muller had learned quickly that any protest would be call forth action of more viscious nature and moved forward with trepidant steps.

Keeping a manner of demure bearing, he sat down in the pinnace's waist and tried to gain some idea of where abouts. Bowing his head, Muller's eyes darted to capture objects in peripheral view. The pinnace rocked slightly as the last passenger gained place, followed by a voice that he had come to know all to well. The oars were unshiped and laid to task, bringing the vessel about then straightening to her course.

Sneaking a look forward past the men and bow, his eyes came to bear on the stern of a vessel that caused a chill to run the legnth of his spine. As if his thoughts had been projected outloud, Muller heard again the voice he had come to loath and sometimes fear announce to his ears,

" Monsieur Muller, though I am sure that you have much enjoyed our French hospitality of late..." Lamaire's verbose dripped heavily with facetious intent and hung the air momentarily as a row of laughter rolled the pinnace's company.

"But I fear that your little hiatus has come to an end, as all good things must in time. Time to go home, monsuier. I am sure that your old friends will be most happy to have you back in their company..."

Lamaire chuckled in amusement at Muller's reactional cringe to announcement.

[William Brand]

It was nearly the noon hour when Mister Lasseter cleared his throat to call William's attention to the small boat approaching the Watch Dog. With the uniformed guards aboard, there could be no mistaking the prisoner in their keeping.

"Mister Lasseter, please call all hands to the weatherdecks."

The Quartermaster affirmed the order with his knuckles forward and in short order the crew assembled amidships. William made his way down from the quarterdeck with his hands behind his back. His look was murderous in its sobriety and it had its effect almost immediately. Most of the crew couldn't see the passenger of the pinnace, but William's demeanor did not bode well for whomever it might be. Then someone near the rail spoke the name of Muller and it passed like an echo through the throng.

Lamaire called out his request for admittance to the ship and an affirmative answer went back. In no time at all Muller and a number of his escorts were aboard the Watch Dog.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Stepping around the his company and the man they surrounded, Dominique extended a hand to William, "Bonjour Capitaine Hollande." A hint of mischievous glee played the young Frenchman's eyes as he continued, the company parted to show their charge.

"Capitaine Fournier sends his regards to you and wishes you well. He also sends this...gift. As a token of good will, of course."

[William Brand]

William's said nothing at first and neither did his face. He walked up to the nearly broken Muller and stood a long time in silence. Muller tried many times to hold William's gaze and failed. After a time William's face spread into a slow and overly pleasant smile that was far worse than any he had ever used in Muller's presence. It was at once artificial and cold.

Lamaire took note of the contrasting effect that Muller's presence had on the crew of the Watch Dog. Some seemed confused at Muller's arrival in chains, while dawning comprehension and even anger was already reflected in the remainder of the crew.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Lamaire. Please extend my undying gratitude to Capitaine Fournier. His hospitality of late has been laudable."

"Of course, Capitaine Hollande."

William was still standing before Mister Muller during the whole exchange. He never once took his eyes off of the prisoner. Lamaire did not seem put off by this. In point of fact, Lamaire had worn the same smile since arriving.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The French guard stood with the same ridgidity that would be presented in respect to their own captain. Lamaire continued to observe the general mood that wafted over the ship, but kept his peace as William stood before the Watch Dog's shipmate fallen from grace, and it was a fall of depth beyond any description that Dante had scribed...The jury was in and Lamaire waited in anticipation of the events that would unfold next...

[William Brand]

William called for the Ship's Steward and Miss Smith came forward. William spoke to her in a tone too quiet for anyone but her to hear and at first she excepted the order given her without fully comprehending it. She was but a few steps from the Captain when she paused a moment, trying not to smile. Then she went below. In the intervening absence William continued his close regard of Augustus Muller. Then quite suddenly he turned away from him to Lamaire. He placed his arm gently on the man's shoulder and turned him away to speak privately.

"I wanted to thank you and Fournier for the keeping of this viper until I had the opportunity to complete my reunion and festivities aboard the Watch Dog. I do hope you will understand if I now ask you to excuse us to the family matters that must follow."

"I understand well, Capitaine Hollande."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

Miss Smith returned almost at once, anxious not to miss any dealings in regards to Muller. She handed over a small pouch of coin and William turned immediately to Lamaire, pressing the bag into his hand. He spoke loud enough for most to hear what he said as he did this.

"Please except this, both in gratitude and symbolism." William looked right at Muller again. "That creature there would have sold me into enemy hands for a traitor's sum, which I now give to Capitaine Fournier for that passage which he gave me and for the gift of my inevitable restitution...soon to be visited on my enemy."

Lamaire was almost certain without opening the small purse that it housed some thirty pieces of silver.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Lamaire's attention was split momentarily betwixt the young woman that stood near William and the purse that rested in hand. Moving closer, he lowered his voice,

"It is a generous thing that you offer, Capitaine Hollande...Though I assure you that it is unneccesary. I will accept it on my cousin's behalf, but urge you to take it back into your keeping."

[William Brand]

William shook his head and his face relaxed into a genuine smile. "My life was ever worth more to me than this. I cannot repay the debt I feel, so I insist that you except this inadequate sum...in leu of a payment that might have required me to join the crew of Le Requiem. Then those who would be my enemy will understand what rewards I shower upon my friends. Then they will not dare cross me for fear of my friend's reprisals."

William smiled again. He liked Lamaire and he had expected this polite decline, but he would brook no arguement.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

" Very well then, Capitaine. I shall do as you ask and relay your words to Capitaine Fournier. If you are in no further need of my service, we shall return to Le Requiem."

Lamaire stepped back a pace, regarding William with friendly expression, " Monsieur Lasseter had made mention that you are to meet with the Don in the near future. If there is anything we can do to make said audience more comfortable for all, please do not hesitate to send word."

[William Brand]

They exchanged the pleasantries common to two officers and while Lamaire departed, William seemed to forget Muller altogether. He removed his hat out of respect as the small craft turned away from the Watch Dog. Once they were gone from the immediate surroundings, William asked the Master at Arms for a pistol. Mister St. Anthony handed it over without question. William asked for ball and powder and these were also supplied. William turned away and began loading the pistol even as he spoke.

"During my absence I have learned from Mister Muller's own lips that it was he that shot me in the shoulder shortly after I was made Captain of the Watch Dog."

He enjoyed the exchanged glances between the crew. Mister Lasseter's eyes narrowed in an uncharacteristic fashion, his fist clenching just a little at his side. Miss Smith's face was at first surprised and then angry, the bloom of her youth giving over to something more alien. Mister St. Anthony's lips thinned and his expression spoke of anger from previous betrayals in his own life. Mister Badger and Mister Youngblood looked curious, almost passive, but their eyes were unkind as they fell on Muller. Mister Pew bore an expression that all but volunteered to strangle the man himself. Mister Warren crossed his arms and his demeanor passed an immediate sentence. The Ship's Carpenter, Blacksmith and Sailmaker were wearing unreadable faces, as was the Doctor. The rest of the crew wore expressions ranging from quiet to murderous.

William finished loading the pistol. "Sorry, Doctor." He said as he turned and fired.

Most of the crew seemed no more surprised at this than they would have been at seeing the Sun rise, but just the same, some of them jumped from the close report. Muller was kicked back at once and even though he had ducked the shot a little, it had taken a large chunk off of his left shoulder. He went down hard, striking his head as William had when Muller had shot him. William found that most satisfying.

Pete Straw and Jerrod Styles were nearest him and they bent over him immediately. Jerrod looked up at once, drawing a knife. "He ain't dead, Cap'n."

"Of course not, Mister Styles. If I had aimed with the intent of killing him then I would never know the eventual satisfaction of seeing him dance a jig on air."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgeon kept the mask of stoic expression, interupted with a smallish raise of brow at the event that took place next. Not unfamiliar to putting such action into play herself, Tempest never the less was a creature of instinctual directives. As Muller hit the hard surface of salt worn wood, she moved forward to where he now lay. With practiced efficiency, the green sights summed up the damage done, then turned to William with a look of question silently poised.

[Kendra The Sea Maid]

*When the Captain revealed what he had remembered Kendra had heard. Experience had taught her however, in a situation like this she keep her eyes straight her mouth closed and ears open. then. . .BANG!! She jumped, like a child afraid of its own shadow. The glanced out of the corner of her eye to see the man fall, and then the doctor rushed to his side. She then caught a glimpe of the captain's eye which seem to say "Keep your eyes forward little one." *The same look her father gave when she was in mischief. and did so*

[William Brand]

Tempest didn't have to ask the Captain anything. William understood that the surgeon would have offered care to even the worst of offenders. It wasn't a weakness in her, but rather a testament to her absolute discipline to heal when healing was required. He admired her for it, but looking between the Doctor and the Tailor he made a decision. He went to the Doctor and offered his hand and raised her away from Mister Muller.

"It would be a misuse of your skills to do anything for this dog, my good Doctor. He will not live long enough to scar...perhaps not even scab. Your talents would be wasted."

She made no argument and perhaps she saw the anger under the surface of his calm. He smiled at her then, turning to Kendra.

"May I trouble you for needle and thread?"

Kendra blinked and handed him one of the only needles she was carrying. It was a larger sail needle. He thanked her for it even as she sent Simon for thread.

William removed his coat with quiet care and placed it in Kendra's arms. He also took off his hat, handing it over to Miss Smith. He rolled his sleeves up past the elbows and called for a ration of strong liquor. Mister Youngblood produced a well worn flask and William excepted it at once. He went to Mister Muller and doused the shoulder of the man, seemingly indifferent to his screams. Pete Straw and Jerrod Styles were forced to take the man's arms as he spat German curses. Simon returned and William thanked him, threading the large canvas needle at once. He knew before he began that this would become a disturbing tale in the retelling.

Then in a matter-of-fact way that was disquieting he said, "I will require help holding him still."

He had no shortage of volunteers.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Jean-Micheale eyed the spill of coin that splayed across mahogany burnish. Leaning forward to place elbows to surface, he steepled fingers and pursed lips to the cool reflection on darkened plateau. Lamaire poured twined goblets with aged cognac then obtaining seat, looked to his cousin soberly before sliding one to the other. The amber sights traveled to center on the younger then back to the small mound. Quiet hung the room's air like a heavy fog and minutes passed without a word being spoken by either. The goblets were filled and emptied twice before verbose broke the flow of silence as Jean-Micheale leaned back against chair's high support and exhaled heavily.

"I will hazard the assumption that you informed Capitaine Brand that his rich gesture was not of neccessity?"

"Oui..." Dominique fingered his goblet's rim unconsciencously. "But, I also knew that there would be no way of changing the set of his mind."

Fournier sampled the firey elixir, then started the centerfugical spin of fluid in crystal boundry, as was habit when thinking.

"Then if it gives his soul some form of comfort to do as such, we shall be gracious and say no more of it." Reaching to lay right hand upon near text of heavy leather bind, he continued. " I think we shall remain in port for three more days then make departure."

"Ou'? Martinique?"

"Maybe...I have not decided, as of yet. I would prefer not to...Perhaps to the north."

A spark of impish hue lit the younger's expression at the possibilities...

[Kendra The Sea Maid]

*The air still smelled a bit stale and it wasn't because of the canvous, she tried to push back the images of yesterday by focusing on the work at hand but it was very hard. despite the fact she had been on many ship since she was a toddler, she had never witnessed anything like that before and she hoped would never again. But that is a foolish thing to wish for this was life, a life at sea. From behind she could hear the Captian's pace back and forth across the deck. She so wanted to turn around, but she dare not. SHE MUST STAY AT THE TASK AT HAND! She told herself

[William Brand]

The day gave over to evening and then night. The morning had been filled with unexpected revelations. Those who had only suspected Muller of kidnapping the Captain, now had their confirmation, as did those who had not suspected.

After William had performed a short and somewhat brutal operation on Muller's shoulder, Muller had been bound and secured in a musty corner of the fo'c'sle. There, he would be subject to the curses and laughter of his former shipmates until his final fate was decided. Many suspected that it would be an unpleasant end.

Now, in the cool of the darkening night, William paced the deck. His mind was clear, though he had pondered much. He felt at home once again. He enjoyed the deck of the ship in ways that he could never completely explain to anyone. He felt as strong as any of the ship's masts when he was standing on the deck. He was meant for the sea. He spent so little time ashore anymore that his land legs were almost altogether lost.

He had noticed that some of the crew couldn't make eye contact with him since this morning. Perhaps out of respect. Perhaps out of discomfort. Perhaps it was his imagination. He understood how the crew might misunderstand his coldness during the days proceedings, but sometimes, in order to maintain order, one must appear as inhuman as one can be. After all his infamy had saved him on a few occasions. This mornings events, like so many of his past, would be exaggerated in the retelling. And though the tall tales were little more than a thin veneer over the true "William Brand", they were often enough to protect him. The stories had a way of unsettling his enemies and creating trepidation.

The bell tolled. The moon rose. William paced the deck.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The night breeze stirred laden vines of garden flora and with its' movement, the humid air doubled in saturation of natural parfumes. From above, golden light melted from balcony windows in struggle to gain ground against the palette of heavy azure without. The hacienda's offer of evening meal gave wide aray of delectible selection, weighing heavily on all who had partaken. Some took repose in the comfort of thick cusioned furnishings, other gathered in small groups in discussions of worldly and local topics. Then there were those who chose secluded nooks in which to persue actions away from prying eyes.

It was in such a capacity, that Dominique had chosen to idle the later hours in the company of Maria Vasquez's maid. One could do worse in spending time and although the girl was not from the higher rings of society, daughters of Aristocratic standing could prove tiresome and complicated. So time marched forward and with a bottle of madeira to keep them company, these representatives of two nations negotiated terms in foliage laden shadows.

The maid responded to latest "treaty" with wine laden giggles and her companion leaned closer to make "amendments". In the midst of offering, Lamaire paused looking upward to the sound of voices growing louder as they neared railing. Placing a finger gently to the girl's lips, he cocked his head slightly to focus on the conversation taking place.

" I give the gentleman my full endorsement, mon ami. In the time that we have held aquaintance, he has proven to be a man of strong character and honour. You cannot believe all that you hear on the wind and you have met the Capitaine yourself. I have never known you to be a bad judge of character."

"You shower me and the Capitaine with generous words, Jean-Micheale. If you say that what has been presented to me is nothing more than the prattle of old women, than I shall accept your beliefs. As for the members of Capitaine Hollande's company that are to attend..."

"Again, this is nothing to which you should concern yourself. Capitaine Hollande's officers and crew are of proper mannerisms and conduct themselves very well. Your own brother has broken bread in their midst and should be able to vouch in their favor. As your friend, I encourage you to close your ears to the idle tongue wagging that takes place amongst those who cling and pander for your attentions. They are the wordings of those who live in small worlds and possess even smaller minds."

The last remark drew a deep laugh of baritone scale, " You are correct in your synopsis, as usual. Age must be clouding my mental processes, forgive me for my aprehensions."

The voices faded as the two men drew back indoors and the negotiations below began anew...