Pyrates of the West Coast

[William Brand]

Hmmm... I do believe there gonna be a duel in th' morn....

Any thoughts Cap'n? Tempest? You two? Hmmm?

William watched the interchange, saying nothing at first. He watched the Spanish dandy make woefully poor retorts against Lamaire's nimble and casual jabs. He sipped his drink and smiled a little at the confidence that oozed from Lamaire.

"I believe the Spaniard has killed himself." was all that William said.

[Pew]

::With lanterns ablaze on the deck of the Watch Dog, it became apparent that the extra rations of rum as provided were beginning to take their desired effect. Playing shanties as heard across the Caribbean, many crew members were enticed into dancing a jig as they spun about with their tankards.

One of the crewmen from Gravesend, a Mister Monahan, Owen to be sure, fell overboard in his cantankerous mood. This leading to a 20 minute rescue at sea, a missing tricorn, a lump on his forehead and two wet cannoneers. All the while Nigel played us a "rescue hymn", as he put it.

Finally back aboard ship our activities had sobered us up enough for another round of our tankard's fill. Letting Mr. Monahan down gently out of the dinghy, we felt it best for him to rest for the evening against a pile of canvas for our spare sails.::

[Dorian Lasseter]

"I believe the Spaniard has killed himself." was all that William said.

::With a small nod, Mr. Lasseter agreed...::

I do believe yer right... wot a waste o' powder'n shot...

Leftenant Lamaire c'n take care o' 'imself I do believe...

I still gonna keep a sharp eye...

::draining the last bit of finely distilled vintage from his glass, he deftly placed the empty on a servants passing platter, and removed a fresh pair of crystal....::

A fresh glass?

::He offered to Tempest, then nodded to the tables of food...::

Shall we partake?

Tempest? Cap'n?

[William Brand]

"Lead on, Mister Lasseter." William said, tapping his cane before him in long swings as he went. He had not thought to use the cane since his injury, but he found that the weight of it was satisfying, and he thought it might serve him well as a weapon if the occasion called for it.

They sampled from some three dozen platters heaped with sweet meats, candied nuts, sauteed vegetables and steaming trays of foods William couldn't name. Every dish was a feast in its own right and worthy of praise. William thought such a meal might require him to loosen his belt before the night was over. And, looking around the room, he had another more roguish thought about loosening his belt.

[William Brand]

The small funeral procession arrived in the Potter's Field that was the cemetery for the unknown or unclaimed. The Watch Dog's men hung back at the edge of the field, watching while a second man joined the cart driver. The two began unloading the shovels and pick axe for the purpose of digging a solitary grave. They hung a lantern on a swinging pole fixed to the side of the cart and set about their work.

Whiting and McGinty spoke at length about what might be done before asking the others to join them. They closed the distance between themselves and the diggers before the two men in the deepening grave were even aware of them. They were at once unsettled by the five quiet and unexpected mourners. They found the flintlock pistol pointed at them even more unsettling.

"Please, carry on with yer diggin'." Whiting said, pointing his pistol at the larger of the two.

McGinty gestured to the other with a long, wicked knife. "Come out of there."

The man came out at once, gripping his shovel a little too tightly. Smyth relieved him of it and lead him over to the cart, helping him into the waiting seat.

Whiting continued with his instructions. "Dig that grave good and deep. We may perhaps have a body for it yet." He tossed the man a coin or two from the purse which Mister Lasseter had provided them.

The man managed a simple nod. Then they all thought twice about the matter of leaving the grave digger alone and Smyth, Godfrey and Marchand chose to remain behind and watch the man dig. Whiting and McGinty went with the cart driver to deliver the Monsignor into the company of the Watch Dog.

[Kendra The Sea Maid]

* Kendra tried her best what seemed like hours to keep the gulls away as the man's body was being caressed by the sea. From where she was, she could not see his face part of her said "Go and see. . ."and the other half told her "stay away girl, you will not like what you will find. . ." *but she must know, he could be hurt and need medical attention. She swallowed hard and made her way down toward where he lay, fighting and cursing the "sea rats" the whole way.* * at first glance she noticed the ornamental robes of a priest. . . ."NO IT CAN NOT BE!! OH GOD NO!!" *she brushed the sand from the man's face . That was when her worst fears were realized. . .IT WAS. . .the Monsignor!

"Monsignor?. . .*she shook his sholder* "Monsignor PLEASE WAKE UP!"

*He coughed and sputterd for a turned his head to the voice* "Is that an Angel that calls me home?"

"No Monsingor, it is I, Kendra." * her voice was rather shakey and filled with tears*

"Aye, but you are to me my child. . .* he coughed again, and this time a small fount of blood came forth from his mouth* "YYYOU shouldn't try to speak. . .help will come soon."

"No lass, my time here is through." *Her face was red hot with grief as she shook her head violently in denial not able to hold the tide of emotion back just as the ocean was reaching out her hand to claim her own. "It is up to you now, you must be the light unto this dark world. You must be the one to guide these wayward spirits. . ."

"No, we need you. . ."

*He smiled at her weakily.* You must, you are the only one. . ."

"How?"

"God uses the weak things of this world to confound the wisest and strongest of men." * with that,the Monsingnor was gone. . .and in an instant the gulls lay seige upon him, and was swept ou to sea.*

*She awoke with a start, her body covered in a cold sweat, her giant friend standing over her with a look of concern. "He's Gone Simon the Monsignor's gone!" * His giant arms reached out to comfort his friend.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Armand had noted the events unfolding just before the Quartermaster had made summons. Keeping vigilant guard to Tudor as the wolves circled, her attention drawn to the young Spanish cockerel's gave sudden intent of center. Although not having known Lamaire on any ocassion, his sister had passed on tales through the years. It was this collection of the past that bore forward in Armand's mind as he guaged the dandy's foolish manuvers and the closing of trap.

The softened quality of voice calling to his attention broke through musings and he bent to Tudor's whim. Taking her into the whirl of rainbow, he ignored the distraction of all, with the exception of the delicate bloom entrusted to his care. Faint murmers called to unconscience hearing as those in near passing gossiped as so many barnyard hens in regard to the duel at hand. The Gascon blocked the chatter and remained content to have Tudor close, so close that the trivialites of the outside world ment nothing. Like a content cat in sun warmed spot, he absorbed the moment and reveled in its existance.

Tudor's query brought his senses back to bear, once again. Considering what he knew, Armand gave her a smile of knowing.

" I do not think there is any fear you should hold in your heart for Monsieur Lamaire. It is to my understanding, that the scar that graces the side of his face was obtained in an incident similar to this one. I am sure that he would be most pleased to tell you the tale...The man who delivered it, on the other hand, can not be consulted on the matter... Without the aid of a seer, that is..."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgeon smiled graciously to her escort with the offering of newly procured glass. Keeping William and Dorian's company, she surveyed the offering of oral delights and chose carefully what to sample first. For a moment, she paused in selection to lay sights to the Captain and noticed an expression of mischievous hue fleet his features briefly. Inwardly, she was amused at the brief showing and pondered not to deeply what had triggered its appearance.

Delicately nibbling from current choice, she made casual coup d'oeil of the surround and made eye contact with Lamaire. The young Frenchman raised his glass to her in silent salut to which she nodded with graceful manner one time. His eyes drifted to a near balcony access then back, mouthing the word "later this night". She responded with another nod of accord to which he offered his impish smile.

Returning her attention to companions near, Tempest sipped daintily from newest glass while multi hued peacocks offered variations of strut afore any eye willing to pay them heed.

[William Brand]

William sampled the delicacies of the table until the distraction of other delicacies became more inviting. He was in the midst of another glass of wine when a woman caught his attention from across the room. He returned her smile and set his glass on a tray as a servant went passing by. He was half way across the room when the woman was swept off into a dance by another man and he was left crossing the room to no particular destination.

He was considering another conquest, when his attention turned to a woman closer at hand. He turned soundly on his heel, wandering through the crowd until he stood before a woman of surpassing grace. He had always wondered what it would be like to dance with her.

"Miss Fitzgerald, I wonder if you would do me the great honor of joining me in a dance?"

[Tudor MercWench Smith]

Armand had noted the events unfolding just before the Quartermaster had made summons. Keeping vigilant guard to Tudor as the wolves circled, her attention drawn to the young Spanish cockerel's gave sudden intent of center. Although not having known Lamaire on any ocassion, his sister had passed on tales through the years. It was this collection of the past that bore forward in Armand's mind as he guaged the dandy's foolish manuvers and the closing of trap.

The softened quality of voice calling to his attention broke through musings and he bent to Tudor's whim. Taking her into the whirl of rainbow, he ignored the distraction of all, with the exception of the delicate bloom entrusted to his care. Faint murmers called to unconscience hearing as those in near passing gossiped as so many barnyard hens in regard to the duel at hand. The Gascon blocked the chatter and remained content to have Tudor close, so close that the trivialites of the outside world ment nothing. Like a content cat in sun warmed spot, he absorbed the moment and reveled in its existance.

Tudor's query brought his senses back to bear, once again. Considering what he knew, Armand gave her a smile of knowing.

" I do not think there is any fear you should hold in your heart for Monsieur Lamaire. It is to my understanding, that the scar that graces the side of his face was obtained in an incident similar to this one. I am sure that he would be most pleased to tell you the tale...The man who delivered it, on the other hand, can not be consulted on the matter... Without the aid of a seer, that is..."

Tudor let a breif chuckle escape her, although she quickly stifled it as it was 'innapropriate.' But she could not wipe the wide and contented grin off her features. "Let us hope his luck holds then." She thought breifly of what the morning held, then shut her mind to it, not wishing to think of duels past. Instead, she once again looked up at Armand. "What is in your head, Monsieur? You seem to be in your a world all your own." She asked sweetly, wishing to know what private thoughts could create such a content look on her shipmate's face.

[Dorian Lasseter]

He turned soundly on his heel, wandering through the crowd until he stood before a woman of surpassing grace.  He had always wondered what it would be like to dance with her.

"Miss Fitzgerald, I wonder if you would do me the great honor of joining me in a dance?"

::Mr. Lasseter had watched his Captain walk away from their company, then return and ask Tempest to dance.... Had this been any other person, he would have been greatly offended. It was quite obvious that He was escort to Ms. Fitzgerald. But, as it was William, the Captain of the Watch Dog, a man who Dorian was loyal to, it was not an insult, it was an honour to Tempest and himself... With a slight nod to William and Tempest, Dorian made a shallow bow to both of them, waiting for the answer to request from the wonderous Lady...::

[William Brand]

The cart ride down to the docks was uneventful, and Whiting and McGinty could not have been happier about it. They had rehearsed many different reasons why they might be transporting the body of a dead clergyman, but were relieved that such reasons were never to be given. It was troubling enough that they should be delivering a former shipmate in such a fashion without the added troubles that might have come with discovery.

Once they reached their waiting craft, they gave the cart driver a heavy coin and promised more if he waited for them to return later in the day. The man's eyes betrayed his appreciation for coin and he smiled a crooked smile. Satisfied that the bribed man would remain, they took the parted Monsignor into the small boat and began the labor of bringing him out to the waiting frigate. It was harder work for the two of them alone and they passed the time in a rueful silence, each in his own thoughts about the mysteries and events of the day.

They were but half way to the Watch Dog when they raised a lantern to signal the officer of the deck.

[Pew]

::The music had just begun to die down when a small boat appeared in the dusk. It was hard to make out in the light mist forming atop the harbour. A few crewmen leaned on the gunwale to watch the craft appear, and then raise the lantern for the officer on duty to come topside.::

"Wot we gots 'ere," says Mr. Franklin as he nudges me in the side.

"Dunno," says I. "Better find Mr. Youngblood."

::The young powder monkey next to me immediately ran below decks to find our Master Gunner. Eric and I hung more lanterns over the side as to make the approach to the Watch Dog easier for the small craft.::

[William Brand]

The small craft was now under the range of the deck guns and the muskets of the watchmen. Mister Whiting went forward to prepare a line as Mister McGinty steadied the boat. The job was made more difficult for Whiting, as the foot space was taken up by the roughly wrapped body in the open belly of the craft.

Mister McGinty cried out, "Ahoy! Who be the officer of the watch?"

[Pew]

"'Tis Mr. Youngblood, the lad went below to fetch 'im. Who be ye? Name yerselves."

[William Brand]

"Tis McGinty and Whiting, Mister Pew! We've returned to port this night to find the Monsignor just too late..." McGinty returned. "...and are come to deliver the self same dead!"

[Pew]

"WOT?!?!"

::The crew remaining topside rushed to the rail just to see a body wrapped in a white shroud come into view in the belly of the dinghy.::

"Wot news do you have of this?"

[William Brand]

"None, Mister Pew, save this only...that we found some men of a jail house carryin' the body from that place, and not knowin' what should be done, we has had him brought here." McGinty said in a rush.

"There was gunshots heard by all, Mister Pew." Whiting added. "Not a few minutes before."

McGinty nodded. "Tis as he says. Twas sev'ral shots."

They were in the act of swinging the dingy alongside the Watch Dog. The many lanterns played over the grizzly scene. Mister Whiting, having tossed up the line, stood over the poorly wrapped body of the bloodied clergyman. He gestured with both hands at the Monsignor's remains as if to emphasize the body. The throat and neck of the man were covered in a smear of congealed blood.

[Pew]

"Bloody 'ell."

::As the dinghy was brought up to the deck, the crew standing around had begun to remove their caps in a show of reverence. The deck was beginning to become crowded as many hands reached to bring the craft aboard. As it was settles into it's stocks, many hands reached out to bring the Monsignor's body out of the dinghy.

Mr. Youngblood appeared topside.::

[Kendra The Sea Maid]

*Kendra Eyes were on the lifeless form, she reached out her hand to touch him as they brought him aboard, just as her fingertips were about to make their destination upon his brow, Simon sqeezed her shoulder and she quickly pulled away.*

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

William sampled the delicacies of the table until the distraction of other delicacies became more inviting. He was in the midst of another glass of wine when a woman caught his attention from across the room. He returned her smile and set his glass on a tray as a servant went passing by. He was half way across the room when the woman was swept off into a dance by another man and he was left crossing the room to no particular destination.

He was considering another conquest, when his attention turned to a woman closer at hand. He turned soundly on his heel, wandering through the crowd until he stood before a woman of surpassing grace. He had always wondered what it would be like to dance with her.

"Miss Fitzgerald, I wonder if you would do me the great honor of joining me in a dance?"

She had watched William's initiation of the hunt and how his quary had slipped the snare. He had seemed to turn focus to another likely hare, when it apeared a change of mind took place and the Captain returned to the fold. At his wording of request, Jaquelyn Bertrand known as Tempest Fitzgerald flushed ever so slightly. A quick cut to her escort's expression gave nothing to the thoughts that were happening within cranial corridors, but for a fleet of indesicion that played the hazel sights then hastened departure. She waited for Dorian's reaction to the request and with his bow of leave, the Surgeon proffered one daint hand to William. The verbal accord presented itself with velvet undertone...

" You flatter me with your attention, gentle sir. With all that is to be selected from in our midst, it is I that you wish the company of."

Tempest offered warm smile, but there was just a hint of feral spark swimming in deep pools of emerald sight.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Tudor let a brief chuckle escape her, although she quickly stifled it as it was 'innapropriate.' But she could not wipe the wide and contented grin off her features. "Let us hope his luck holds then." She thought briefly of what the morning held, then shut her mind to it, not wishing to think of duels past. Instead, she once again looked up at Armand. "What is in your head, Monsieur? You seem to be in your a world all your own." She asked sweetly, wishing to know what private thoughts could create such a content look on her shipmate's face.

"Que, Mademoiselle?" He said tilting his head slightly to the right and eyeing her with startled bearing. "Do I appear distant to you? If it is so, than you must forgive my tresspass."

The Gascon quickly steeled his expression than offered her easy smile.

"It must be the company I keep that has me distracted, for I see no other here that can compare to your grace and beauty. You honour me with extreme means by allowing me to escort you this eve."

With final word uttered, Armand took her in wide sweep of the floor and inwardly pufffed to the reaction Miss Tudor was conjuring to any male in proximity.

[William Brand]

" You flatter me with your attention, gentle sir. With all that is to be selected from in our midst, it is I that you wish the company of."

Tempest offered warm smile, but there was just a hint of feral spark swimming in deep pools of emerald sight.

"No, my dear Tempest. It is you that flatters me...nay...the very gathering. The display of wealth and finery scattered about us was a pale and unworthy promontory of stony changelings before you flattered it with that all, too true light of your countenance. Come, my friend. Let us make an artistic effort and recover this dying, gasping audience of pretenders through the very surgery of your grace."

He liked the way she smiled at his over abundance of words. He took her hand in his and lead her away, pausing to turn and speak again, but this time to Mister Lasseter.

"Of course, Mister Lasseter, when she quite overpowers me with her too much talent, you will please rescue me from my clumsy efforts." William said with all seriousness, but reiterated, "You will cut in. Don't let her dance better than me. I shall never live it down."

He turned again with Tempest hand in hand and they went out before the onlookers.

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Of course, Mister Lasseter, when she quite overpowers me with her too much talent, you will please rescue me from my clumsy efforts." William said with all seriousness, but reiterated, "You will cut in. Don't let her dance better than me. I shall never live it down."

:: The QuarterMaster grinned widely at the 'order', given him by William. With a shallow bow he aquiessed...::

Indeed, cap'n... I shall do m'best ta watch fer yer signal... Lest I get ansy an' just cut in when I please...

::He winked at the two of them as they turned and headed onto the dance floor. Soon they were swept up into the music, swaying to the rhythm, flowing with the other dancers around the floor. Dorian shifted his sights from them to the two Stewards, doing much the same. His eyes went about the great room, seeing what reactions or other situations might be transpiring. Aside from the stir caused by the spanish dandy and Leftenant Lamaire, all seemed reasonably well... The Musicians played flawlesly, the dancers danced, the minglers mingled, the gossipers gossipped... And he stood watching it all round him...::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Jean-Micheale, having finished with summons of private audience, made way back to where the revelers domaine. Pausing in a far archway, the Frenchman made quick survey of happenings of the current moment. It seemed Captain Brand and his companions had finally found some ease to the surround and were now slighlty dispersed from the tight positions they had held earlier. Locating each in turn and seeing that William was occupied, the amber sights lit to where Quartermaster Lasseter stood. Leaving his placement of higher ground, Fournier wove through the throng and came to rest just behind and to the right of Dorian.

" Monsieur Lasseter, I do hope you are enjoying the evening..."

Dorian gave hint of start at the voice sounding so near and seeing its origin gave nod of aknowledgement.

" Aye...Tis a grande eve, thankee."

" I will assume that you find the fare of proper acceptability?"

" Fine indeed...There be things that I canno' even give name to but I have sampled it the same." A smirk crossed his expression..." I have no idea what some of it be an' I think I would not really want to know. Knowin' might make me hesitant to be eatin' it."

Fournier laughed good naturedly.

"Monsieur Lasseter, there are moments within life when mysteries should be left as such. I myself have partaken of things that have been of complete delight and am in much of the same mind as yourself. There are times that it is best not to know."

Retrieving a goblet from passing tray, Jean-Micheale watched the progress of William and partner.

" Monsieur Lasseter, I have just come from speaking with Don Vasquez. He has made request that I gather your fold and bring them to him in private chamber. He feels that it would be best to handle matters now before he makes appearance here and is tugged to the four winds with the demands and fawning of those present."

The Frenchman continued to watch the couple's progress around the floor and sampling the rich dark fluid in crystal vessel, his thoughts were drawn to distant Marseille...