Pyrates of the West Coast

[Shipwreck John]

One keg of musket powder and 5 kegs of cannon powder. The shot ids chain shot . and a sack of musket balls. where would you like them?

[Dorian Lasseter]

One keg of musket powder and 5 kegs of cannon powder. The shot ids chain shot . and a sack of musket balls. where would you like them?

Ah... Th' musket powder n' balls, I'll take ta put in th' Armoury... Th' Cannon powder n' shot, find th' Master Gunner an' 'ave 'im store it wi' his stores....

Thankee.........

I take it ye brought alla this o'er in th' dingy?

[Shipwreck John]

Aye Sir , Miss Smith and I did Sir. The barge was not at the beach upon our return. took two trips , it did . My partner Miss Smith stood watch on the stores while I made off with the first load. Let her use my pistol, in case there was trouble. Got it all on board now though

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

With the duties of the day placed well in check, The Surgeon returned from the lower depths of the Ward to the darkening wide open space of the Main deck. The sun slinked lower to the west with a aray of tangerine hue in its wake, bowing kindly to the new Moon's rise and ruling. The ever present cooling night breezes had taken station, playfully pulling at the loose cotton clothing that now drapped the lithe figure as she made way to the panorama of view available at the stern rail.

A feeling of certain satisfaction coursed through her being in regard to the steadfast progress of the Monsignor's recouperation, though she worked hard to put feelings of unease at bay in regard to other recent events. Finding a derelict barrel of decent sturdiness, she balanced a quick hop to its circular top, careful to gage the counter balance given by the bottle of cognac and stemed goblet grasped in one hand presenting obsticle.

Making a survey of the surrounding area, she let her mind gain tranquility over chaos and filled the goblet's emptiness...

[Shipwreck John]

~Shipwreck stows the gear brought aboard in the various compartments as directed by Mr Lasseter. He heads down to the crew's space.~

*with an exasperated sigh* Ah fer.... will they never learn.... Well, Mr. Sons will be sleepin' on th' deck this eve...

"Well Looks likes someone liked my Hammock More than me. I will learn to stow my gear before it all dissapears"

~John finds a place on the deck and folds his coat to make a pillow. Soon he's getting much needed sleep after a hard day in town.~

[Dorian Lasseter]

Very well...

:: Mr. Sons departs to fulfill his orders, and the QM haeds to the quarterdeck to fill in the logbook for the day... As he gains the deck, he sees the Surgeon, sitting on a keg, enjoying the evening and some spirits... After finishing his chore, he approaches...::

Evenin' Lass... Might I share this spot wi' ye?

*she nods he assent*

Thankee... Tis a fine eve... not many left ta be 'ere in th' cove...

No. not many more... soon we be bound fer th' deep blue...

Ah...

[CaptainSwan]

~Swan comes to sight and stands on the deck for a brief moment. It is the first time in quite some time that anyone would have seen the LT. of the watch above decks. She looks pale, clearly from her new sleeping hours. After a few moments of scanning the decks she notices one of her mates sleeping on the floor. She stops for a moment then turns and stalks below to her bunk and comes up with a blanket for him. She covers John up and moves off quietly to stand watch. As she moves among her mates she nods her greetings to them before climbing the rigging to the nest. She climbs up smoothly with out a problem and gets comfortable in the nest and continues to stand awak all night long. She looks down and listens to the crew. She sings a few songs to keep herself awake and alert.~

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OOC: I've not fallin' off the planet. I'm now the assistant managing to a ranch. I take care of 35 horses every day and at the end of the day I'm beat. I'm really sorry I've not been as active as I used to. I miss this a lot.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The peaceful rock of to and fro relaxed her further as the sun retreated further to the west. The near distance of darkened shore rang with the haunting call of night denizens urging the moon's higher station over the liquid world below. Shifting weight upon the circular perch, the Surgeon glanced over shoulder to the legnth of deck abaft her proximity. So odd to see such calm upon the wooden surface that was usually ripe with crew members scurrying to the wants of the day. It was if the ship lay in desertion with the exception of the few standing post for the current watch.

An indulgence of relished flavor was partaken of in kind, warmth coursing her throat as she centered focus to torches that gave light upon the beach head and the line of palm trunks that stood sentry to the cove's edges. Hearing a familiar voice, the Surgeon turned with a smile of warm welcome.

"So good to have your company...It seems that duty prevents such liberties of late. "

A hint of impish tinge washes expression as the bottle of cognac is offered to the Quartermaster...

"Care for a wee nip?"

[Dorian Lasseter]

"So good to have your company...It seems that duty prevents such liberties of late. "

She extends the bottle of cognac to the Quartermaster...

"Care for a wee nip?"

Hmmm.....

Aye... I do believe I shall..... Ah, I seem ta nay 'ave me jack near...

::with a sly grin, he takes the goblet from her hand, takes a drink and hands it back::

Mmm... thankee...

:: he settles himself against the sternpost ::

[William Brand]

William walks out onto the quarter deck. William focuses on a star for a long time. He seems very far away and doesn't notice the Doctor and Ship's Master standing hard by at first.

"Good evening, Mister Lasseter. Doctor. It's been a busy week."

[Dorian Lasseter]

"Good evening, Mister Lasseter. Doctor. It's been a busy week."

Aye Cap'n... Tha' it has.... a goode week tho....

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

A feral smile fleets her expression as she receives the goblet back. Hopping down from the barrel to join him, she glances to Dorian's shadowed features then away before taking another draught from the goblet. With the sounding of the Captain's voice from behind, the Surgeon hesitates mid draught with a start and turns to take in the sudden appearance.

" Good eve to you as well, sir. Conditions have been rather hectic as of late, though it would appear, that regardless my distractions, things have progessed forward in a timely manner."

[William Brand]

William stands at the rail for a long time watching the dark beachhead and listening to the lapping of the water against the Watch Dog. Then he turns to Mister Lasseter and Miss Fitzgerald all at once.

"I wonder if I might speak with both of you in my cabin?"

William doesn't wait for an answer, but goes immediately below.

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: the QM raises his eyebrows, glances at the Surgeon, then shifts himself into a more formal stance ::

I think we best join 'im quickly.... m'gut says we may 'ave trouble...

Shall we?

:: he holds out his arm for the good doctor, then they go below...::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

With a look of puzzlement, she sets down the goblet and watches after the Captain's departure. Glancing to Dorian in question, she accepts his proffered arm to follow.

[William Brand]

William invites Tempest and Dorian into his cabin and gestures toward a pair of waiting chairs. He walks behind the chart strewn table and stands with his back to them, hands behind his back and staring out the stern windows. After a time he turns to them and begins to speak his mind.

"While I was aboard the Nymphe I had a chance to converse with Captain Moreau at great length on a wide variety of subjects. I questioned him again and again about his past and he was forthcoming with much unimportant information. I learned what I could about him and his history. It proved to be a cat and mouse game of deceptions and half truths and he played it well. So well, that it was not until I left the ship that I fully realized something that did not occur to me while I was in his company."

William pauses for a moment before continuing.

"Moreau never asked me anything about my past. He questioned me at length about my present, but not a single inquiry into my history. Not one question. And why should he avoid a subject that would teach him so much about me? Why not ask where my loyalties lie? Why not delve into my experience, training and education?

Because he must already know who I am."

William picks up what appears to be an envelope, but it proves to be nothing more than a large sheet of parchment folded again and again. William spreads it out flat on the table and then turns it around for them to read.

It is a block print and it appears to be a poster heralding a large reward for a pirate by the name of William Brand. There is a figure of a man dressed in a long coat and carrying a cutlass in one hand. The ship rendered behind him is burning and sinking. The face of the man is drawn with a sneer and seems purposely drawn to make him appear evil and cruel. And while it is not an exact likeness of William, it is very similar to him.

William waits for them to read, comprehend and look up from the drawing.

"Yes. I am William Brand...and yes, there is a considerable reward for my capture and imprisonment.

Now...I cannot be sure that Captain Moreau sent this to me. If he did, it cannot imagine his reasoning unless he intended it to be a warning. If he had any intention of collecting the reward, he would never have sent me this. Unless of course, he sent it to test me. If I were Moreau, I would want to be sure. It is even likely, that while he knows who I am, he had no hand in this whatsoever. I have enemies enough to have received it from another quarter. The messenger who delivered it seemed familiar enough, but I cannot say why."

William pauses for a long time, waiting for them to speak their minds.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::The QM pursed his lips, considered all that the Captain said.... thought for a time...::

Well, Cap'n.... I wouldn't be 'ere iffn' I had a fine gentlemans past..... We's a ship o' fools iffn' we be anythin'.... Wot e'er be yer decision... I's here ta follow.....

What'r yer wishes?

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Digesting what has been presented, the Surgeon reserves thoughts as Dorian speaks. Glancing sidelong to the Quartermaster briefly, her focus returns to the parchement laid for exhibit.

" I would say that the possibility of Capitaine Moreau's involvment is very remote at best. The Laurent's pay him very well for the service he provides. He is from a family of standing within the French Hierarchy and is by no means a man of desperation or desperate motivations. Perhaps you should consult Armand, for he has known Moreau many a year."

[William Brand]

William listens to them both with a nod to all things said.

Already he has begun to take a liking to Mister Lasseter, that passes simple loyalty. The man is frank and to the point and William finds his candor appealing. Tempest is much the same, speaking her mind with little suppositions or conclusions. She doesn't mince her words or waste them in the pursuit of idle possibilities. They are very exact confidants.

"I do not believe that Moreau was responsible for this delivery. I do believe that he knows who I am and if he wanted to use that knowledge against me he might have done so in our negotiations regarding the cutter. No, it cannot be Moreau.

Still, what remains is this. Someone else knows enough about me to have me know that they know it. Someone sent a messenger into harms way to tell me that they know. That document represents a crime almost eight years past. It can only be interpreted as a blatant gesture of warning or threatening. The sender of this sign has gone to the extent of sending the document itself, and how many of copies of such a document can remain after eight years?

This also shows that Moreau cannot be the source. Why should he have such a document in his possession?"

William pauses for a time to regard the man in the drawing before setting it aside.

"It was my expectation to address the matter of my past before the crew before setting sail, but this unexpected delivery has pressed the matter. In short, someone knows who I am, and that dark pronouncement there is a death sentence to anyone found in my company aboard this ship. Forget the past of every man and woman under my charge. If I am taken while at the helm of this ship, that places everyone under my command within the scope of that condemnation laid out in this document. The crew's very association with me could see them hanged, guilty or no."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgeon listened carefully to what the Captain had to say, turning every word over with finite inspection and considered the whole. Leaning back against the finely wrought carving of high backed chair , she glanced in fleet once again to the officer beside her then recentered upon the Captain.

" Fate and destiny can be very manipulative mistress', sir. I have witnessed much in my years of travel upon this earth and regardless of what may lay on the future horizon not yet seen, I still stand fast in the offer of my service to you and this ship. "

[William Brand]

William leans on the table with all the weight of Atlas on his shoulders. A tired smile crosses a weary face; his eyes continually falling on the crude representation of himself.

"You're too much kindness overwhelms me. I am in your debt. I cannot express what a relief it is to me to have you both impart great loyalty with very little discussion. I am also glad that you are brief in your advice, as I am tired."

William taps the document with one rigid forefinger.

"This libel...this unrepentant lie of my conduct has chased me round the horn and back a dozen times. Would that the death of William the Third had ended its credibility. It should have been buried with his sovereignty."

William straightens again. He places his hands behind his back and looks at them with a level eye.

"Thank you, both. I ask that you keep this dangerous understanding to yourself. I shall address the issue before the crew very soon, but for the time being, I should like the keeping of it."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

" It is with highest guarantee of asurance that I give you my word of honor. Nothing that has transpired within these walls shall breech to the common knowledge until you deem fit."

The Surgeon stands, looking the Capitain squarely in the eye.

" We all have demons in our past, Sir....Some are minor others the opposit, But these are things that we live with and overcome...."

She pauses as Dorian gains his feet beside her.

" My advice to you now is a good night's rest. Nothing more can be accomplished this eve and a foggy mind will not benefit any decisions made on the morrow. Ease your conscience, William....All shall be well with time, I am sure."

[William Brand]

"In your company, I have no doubt of it."

William pours three glasses and grabs one up to toast.

"To piracy. May we outlive our reputations long enough to enjoy the rewards of good company."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The three glasses rang in unison to agreements said and unsaid of the night's events. Calm conversation played the Great cabin's interior and subjects of lighter nature were breeched as the contents of the glasses dwindled so did the course of verbose in echoed fashion. With well wishes for the night made, the Quartermaster and Surgeon took the Capitain's leave, returning to their former post and the company of the cognac bottle left there earlier...

[Cut-throat]

Upon the deck of the mighty Watch Dog, Johnson studies his freshly crafted knife. Jonathan Hawks had made quite a masterpiece for the notorious swivel gunner. The blade was a sturdy twelve inches in length and sharpened on both sides. The first two inches of the blade, from the hilt up, was flattened and dulled for parrying capabilities. The hilt was a solid brass and the handle encompassed the full-tang blade. The handle was capped with a nasty little brass pommel that Cut-throat was more than pleased with. Hawks was indeed a master blacksmith and Johnson was far from the average cutter. This blade would suit Johnson nicely.

Tucking the blade back into it's leather sheath and into his waist belt, Johnson nodded his head in satisfaction as he mentally reminded himself that he would have to register the blade with the ship's Quartermaster.......