Pyrates of the West Coast

[William Brand]

Pleased, he walks up to the quarter deck and has a seat on the stern and continues to sip his ale.*

Till then this will do.

"Mister Youngblood. Have the repairs been made to those guns which could not be made to fire before?"

William doesn't wait for a response, but instead, he proceeds to his next question.

"Have you been promoted above the gun deck in my absence, sir? I should think that a gun deck which runs the length of the ship and occupies its greater girth would be enough for any man. Why then are you found so often near the helm?"

Aye, sir, guns was just gummed up, notin a good o cleanin couldn't fix. An as fer ta quarter deck, well its got such a nice view sir.

William's smile is a slow spreading line of dark clouds.

"Views are therefore a matter of taste, Mister Youngblood. Some sailors are quite content with the view from the forecastle, while some never tire of the view aloft. Still others are obliged to enjoy what views they may be assigned, counting themselves lucky never to have seen or compared their promontory with that of the brig.

Perhaps the question was too subtly put, Mister Youngblood. I meant for it to serve as a request."

[Pirate Petee]

Aye sir, I think I should be givin those guns a second goin over.

[William Brand]

Aye sir, I think I should be givin those guns a second goin over.

"Thank you, Mister Youngblood."

William returns to the stern with spyglass in hand, not scanning the wide ocean for enemies that the lookouts might find on their own, but rather watching the road and pathways which wind out of the jungle for those enemies who will surely come if they are not soon at sea.

[CaptainSwan]

~Swan wakes and stretches in her bunk. She sits up carefully and lowers her feet to the ground. She pulls on her breeches and changes her shirt. She fastens her belt with the emptry frogs hanging on them. She pats them gently thinking of her weapons that used to hang on them. She makes her way up to the deck to see who is up and about. She nods her hellos and grins as she walks about. She sits on the railing and looks out at the waters and sighs.~

[Capt. Morgan]

*Having nothing better to do before his watch, Morgan begins cleaning one of the 9 pounders on the gun deck, scraping its barrel free of fouling, and chipping the rust from the nearby supply of cannon balls, whistling a lewd sea-chanty as he works...*

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

They walked in silence for some time under the intermittant canopy of local palms fonds bowing over the rutted path. The Celt making comments along the trek to the occassional interjection of the Gascon. And as the distance travelled became further from the cove, the interchange of conversation gained in liveliness, settling into easy the cadence of back and forth. Armand's learned bearing that kept others at arm's legnth due to circumstance, melted away layer by layer, and the ready smile, usually kept from view outside of the Surgeon's presence, appeared more often.

Achieving the outer edge of town, one would not recognize them as what they had been at the beginning of the walkabout. There had come into being a certain ease betwixt the two men, regardless of their pasts, origins or upbringing. It was the ease of fellowship and fellowships based as such, were known to bloom into friendships that spanned lifetimes. Laughter that echoes heartily, comparrison of view, thought and a lust for life at its fullest draught...these things of common ground which would be expanded upon in good time and Fate's allowing.

The unorganized bustle of village activity could be view as unsettling compared to the semi- order of shiplife chaos. Small children running this way and that underfoot, the insistant calls of Fishmongers and other market vendors ringing the area with the occassional controlled argument of haggle, the air itself was a strange mixture of confused scent wafting with the wind. This was the presentation of circus ring that they waded through steadfast to reach the pre ordained destination...

Steadfast, that is, until the pause of step, interrupted by the scent of temptation eeking from casks of liquid delights. The Gascon looked to his compaion with a minute tilt of head to the welcoming entrance of the public house's dark interior. And it was on this doorstoop, that a smallish hint of mischief played the Gascon's dark eyes and he looked to Dorian with an impish turn of smile.

" Care to partake of local answer to thirst's question?"

[Pirate Petee]

*Walks by morgan, cleaning the 9 pounder.*

Good job Morgan, we'll be hitting what ever we be shootin, they way you and the rest o da gunners labour o'er those guns.

*Wlaks to the rail of the ship and puts his boot on one of the cannons and leans over resting on his raised knee and looks out towards the beach of the cove and the jungle beyond.*

Although I be feelin a bit trapped in this er cove. Kina like somepin bad gonna happen an we can na get out. Nevermind that though, we can blast are way out o whatever tries ta keep us here.

[Captain Jacob Badger]

Walks down upper deck....inspectin' riggin'..........''Hmmm, naught as tight as they should be''.....set to on tightenin' jib ropes....

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

I had spent the best part of the day in scriptures learning why I must love and not hate. Give and yet not expect to receive and turn my cheek from sting of ones hands gathered blow. I think on this last one almost all the day. If I am struck and I think as if that turning to offer my other cheek is going to save a place where it be that I might find eternal peace then so be it. I will do my best to teach this lesson almighty one. (Thoughts turn into prayer) I just don't think anyones gonna get the betters of me or me friends and that saves the need to allow such disgrace through lack of honor in battle. The ways I feel good lord that ifin yer askin me ta not do yer duty with the likes o these here mates o mine. Than yer best be askin me to show by example as well the reason why it is practice of move and movement response to that move is so vitally needed when battle comes a crashin in around yer feet. And then realizin that bein prepared includes every muscle and every sense a warrior has,then too, almighty one! I have left many to dangle on the plane of death wishin it were 'ell they were already in. And that of the righteous I had never known blood given and blood taken, Huzzah! in your name I shall continue to give more than I recieve. Amen

Sits up as if coming out of an Eastern meditation looks at the roster to see whos in the basket! Too thinking that this evenings venture into the night will hold an even more magical surprize of astonishment and surprise. alas lookouts are sceduled and full up! Allows for such depression and resolves to never allow such trivial dissapointment to get one so down again. Heads below where 'is cot is and sets out to stop in the galley fer an ale!

[CaptainSwan]

~Swan sees her mate Diego looking saddened and deep in thought. She rises from her shadowed seet and follows him to the galley and sits herself beside him.~

Monsignor, do you fair quite well? You looked broodful on deck. Is there anything I might do for you?

[Capt. Morgan]

Thank ye fer the compliment, Mister Petee... we'll be ready fer a sea-brawl, no doubt!

*Morgan sits on the starb'rd rail, eating a bowl of stew, sipping a wee bit of grog, staring past the entrance to the cove, at the open sea... as the sun dips below the horizon, Morgan checks out his musket and cutlass, and climbs the rigging to the tops, to begin his watch...*

[Rummy3]

Good ta see ye back, Swan! Been a while since we been graced with yer presence. I think the Good Father has a dilemma with his Padre/Pirate inner conflict after that last post. Be careful who it is you be callin yer mate, thar Swan. Remember he is a pius man...

[Rummy3]

Mr Hawks looks ta Rummy, and has a feeling in his mind that she has something up her sleeve she would like him to do for her. He waits patiently slowly twirling his hat in his hand.

Lets have a look at yer tools, Mr Hawks. I have this drawing of an idea that has had me mind workin (removes neatly folded paper from her bodice - and gently hands it to the blacksmith.)

[CaptainSwan]

Thank you Rummy. I've been trying to aclimate my hours to the hours I'm in the watch. Sleep most the day and up all night. You're right of course....calling the padre mate might not sound quite proper.

~Swan winks to Rummy and sits with a hot cup of coffee in her hand. She did her watch that night and not a thing was seen. She leans against the mast and watches everything that she could. No ships in sight and nothing suspicious in the town. The lack of anything presents her with a sense of disquiet, something should always be happening she thought at least something of interest but this night nothing. SHe waits for her replacement to come and tell him of the absence of anything dire.~

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Sorry to have been so within myself yesterday that I find this conflict now addressing my fears as sleep comes with much difficulty. I thank you Swan for the kindness and Rummy too as well it should ever be. This day begins in the way of the wind as she has shown her nerve and sends it with abandon. Red skies adourn our 'orizens and nothin worse fer seafarers than red skies in the morn. Well ceptin lookin ahind you and seein the Watch Dog in yer wake huh? Ha ha ha ha! Good crew this crew!

I believe I'll say a blessing giving this day its verse!

God grant the strength to our crew to see through the little things knowing that the larger picture is always the inner goal. Give them the power to decide their fate with your guidance. Amen.

[The Doctor]

:: Jack's eyes snap open, and his hand reflexively moves for the dagger he keeps tucked under himself while he sleeps. He finally realizes where he is, and he begins to relax. He dresses himself for the day, then stows his hammock and heads topside for coffee. The barge crew's response times are vastly improved over their initial efforts, but one aspect still nags at Jack; the speed at which they handle the hooks for releasing and capturing the boat. More drills, more practice... ::

[Dorian Lasseter]

The Gascon looked to his compaion with a minute tilt of head to the welcoming entrance of the public house's dark interior. And it was on this doorstoop, that a smallish hint of mischief played the Gascon's dark eyes and he looked to Dorian with an impish turn of smile. 

" Care to partake of local answer to thirst's question?"

:: The question asked hangs in the air for a short time as Dorian thinks of what needs to be done, what they were here to do, and when they needs to be back at the ship ::

Hmmm.... sorry Lad... we must get ta th' weaponsmith first... as it is, I was ta pick up me order two days past... I's 'opin' tha' the gent hasn't sold them off since I didn't show then....

:: a look of disappointment crosses the Gascon's face momentarily, to be replaced by a cool look::

"Oui, Dorian... I see... but, afterwards... once you 'ave obtained ze order... what then?"

:: The QM took a deep breath, laughed and smiled at Armand ::

We'll see, Lad.... We'll see... If th' gent plans ta haggle o'er wot we determined as a set price... it may put me in a dark humor.... prey that it don't, and prey we still gots some coin left... Agreed?

:: Armand, satisfied with that answer, smiled ::

Oui, Dorian... let us pray we have coin enough...

::Dorian slapped Armand on the back, and they continued on through the town, through the crowd of stalls, of those wanting to buy, til they came to the sign of the sword and anvil ::

Ah, here we be Armand.... lets 'ope this dunna take but a moment... come on...

:: they walk into the dusky building, where the sounds of hammer fall echo, the smell of charcoal, sweat and steel mingle.... They stop and the QM looks around until he sees the man in question; a large man, almost too wide to step through the door without having to turn sideways, and almost too tall not to have to duck as well. He was wearing a leather apron over a sweat stained shirt of some years of wear, his hair shaved to a stubble, but made up for by the growth from his chin. ::

Aye! Shwartzstahl! Ye got me order ready Lad?

::As Dorian yells, the big man stop in mid hammer fall, looks up with an irritated look, his vision focuses on the QM and a smile cracks the broad face ::

"Ya, Dorian, I gots the order you made.... you late! I should make you wait for making me wait! "

::the big man lumbers over to them, making the pair look up into his visage::

"What's this? you bring a fellow with you to gang up on me, ya? Das not gon to verk you know? I could squeeze ya both, one in each hand, Ya?"

:: Dorian clenches his jaw, the creases on his brow getting deeper, until the man stops to take in a breath ::

Now you listen hear ya bloody bullock! I been mighty busy makin' all th' reperations I need ta, an tha' takes time! I han't stepped ashore since I last spake ta ya, ye lummox! So don't ye be blatherin' on about wot ye should a done 'r not!

An as fer me mate 'ere... mayhaps I did bring 'em along sos ye don't try ta cheap out on me order... ye damned over blown swindler!!!

::As the two men shot insults and jibes at one another, the whole shop of smiths stop their work to see what there was to all the yelling. Armand, looked from Dorain to the Smith, fearing that there would be a bloody outcome, one that may be worse than some of the horrors of his past, his fine breeding and his honour bade him to interject::

"Gentlemen, gentlemen!! Surely there is no need for such an argument! Monsieur... Shwartzstahl? Please, bring what Monsieur Lasseter has ordered, so that you may get paid for your hard work and we will be gone... This will satisfy? Oui?"

::As Armand speaks all eyes are on him, as he makes his plea, Dorian and the Smith look at each other, and back at Armand, an almost shocked look upon their faces... a short silence follows, then they grin, start to laugh and slap each other on the shoulder. Armand looking even more bewilderd than before. The QM finally finds his voice..::

"salright Armand! Tha' was grande o' ye ta step in there an' try ta settle us up... Fergive me... this be Johann... a mate I known fer many a year... we don' see much o' each other these past few year... so, when we do.... well... ne'er ye mind... I's sorrry I dinna warn ye..."

::the two men composed themselves, occasionally stiffeling a chuckle, while Armand trying to look dignafied, still alittle shocked, stood silently....

Johann walked to the side of the shop, picked up a bundle and brought it over::

" Here ya go Dorian.. all four, made to your order..." Johann said, as he handed the bundle to the QM...

::Dorian, unwrapped the canvas, revealing four swords in scabbards, he took one, pulled the blade from it's scabbard and took a few steps away from Armand and Johann, he then took a stance, came into guard and started to go through several guard positions, and attack sequencess to an invisable opponent, his movements fluid, until coming back to a low guard...::

Excellent, Johann.... ye make th' best o' these Mortuary Swords I've e'er handled... all four th' same, right?

::He smiled, nodding to the big man::

Ya, Dorian... just what you ordered... Now, pay me.... ::Johann said, also with a smile::

:: the QM sheathed the sword and laid it with the rest, looking at each in turn, then pulled a leather pouch from his inner waistband, hefted it a few times, then tossed it to the smith ::

Ye outdone yerself, Lad... have ye time fer a drink? Armand 'ere has a thirst after 'r walk here...

::Johann, still clutching the pouch, his face splitting into a big grin::

Ya, I got time... if your buying...

Aye Lad, a'right... I'm buyin'... Yer a'right Armand? Come on... lets go 'ave a drink....

[Rummy3]

(Rummy bumps into Dorian and Armand upon entry to the pub.) Just in tyme tas whet our whistles, I says. How be ye this fyne day mates? Noticed the storm a brewin on the horizon this morning. What ye think? Say - I been noticin that we have some new members on board the Dog Watch. Has the Captain had tyme ta post the roster of late?

[Pirate Petee]

*rolling from side to side, trying to get comfortable, while sleeping on top of powder kegs, he wakes up.*

I got ta get me a new hammock made.

*gathering his gear he hops down from his resting place and makes his way to the galley for coffee and finally then to the fore castle where he smokes his pipe and sips his coffee. Yawns and stretches.*

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Makin my way up the inclines to the main deck I am with the needed dread cup of coffee! I reverse my order and within reach of the galley pot a brew I release it from its lanyard to pour a fine sup of boiling conspire. I head to the main deck now in full care and pomp. Arriving with the worse for none I look about for the Captain and the Quartermaster and see niether. Lookin up I see Ciaran in the crows nest me waves I return his silent hello when his fist with point has its focus to sea. Grabbing the rail and peering the direction of his stare I see it on the 'orizon the open sailed mast and atop it.... The flag of a danish merchant. I look back up to Ciaran and he shrugs I mouth to him I'll address the situation he gives me a thumbs up. I return to the drop and announce sail ho! just once (thinkin to meself I wonders whats the next step Eh?) So I sits down and waits fer the muster! Take a sip of jo and looks up to Ciaran who again is thumb up and now peering through his brings em near into the jungle ahind us!

[CaptainSwan]

~Swan is up and running. She climbs the rigging half way and laces her arms in the rope she looks out toward the sail and recognized the flag as a merchanter. She comes back down landing squiarely and awaits orders.~

[Pirate Petee]

* Hearing the call of "sail ho", Petee dumps the contents of his pipe and tankard over board and jumps down from the fore castle down to the main deck.*

GUNNERS TO YAR QUARTERS!

*Pulls out his spy glass and judges the distance and direction of the incoming ship.*

Five ounce charge at four dgrees o'ta do it.

*Runs below deck and grabs four artillery buckets and brings them up to the respective guns, he continues this untill each gun has a bucket next to it with the charge and linstock. He returns to the rail and eyes the ship with his spy glass and waits.*

[The Doctor]

:: Jack hears the call to quarters and goes quickly to the rail to see the ship for himself ::

Ah, a merchantman. Riding a tad low in the water, are we? I believe we can assist...

Barge crew!! To quarters!! Lay hands on your arms and make ready the boat! Ball and case shot for the gun, and grapples for each man!

Boarding crew!! Arms yourselves and stand by! Fetch the rudder wedge and mallet as well, and see that it's loaded on the barge!

:: He pauses to make sure that his men are answering the call. Once satisfied, he makes for the gun deck to assist in preparations ::

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

In all the excitement I finish my coffee and goes belows to aquire my best sunday robes and scarves. attaching my roasary to me waist I again need the air of main deck excitement and stop by the armoury to aquire my own weapons of distruction and plunder. Cutlass, two pistols, deck scatterer and me three knifes and boot dagger oh yes bones me boarding axe. Nows I wouldn't be caught dead with it would aye. This looks as if it could be a bit o fun!

I finish brandishing my belts and weapons deciding a prayer would best mood the crew I begin in silence. Dear watcher of those who sacrifice their lives to give your word a place to flourish, Allow them this day your guidance of shot, your stregnth of will and your evenness of temper that they with your everlasting embrace help them to victory in your name. Amen! Finisihing aloud I am with eyes closed hear more than ten voices as well repeat Amen, I am in chills.

Finaly getting to the main deck once again I see Swan and address her Swan Lass, I am not with the knowledge of the officers wheresabouts but would insist the need for you in the crows nest with your long bow. Ciaran arrange your self (as I looks up to address our lookout) with me and Mad _Jacks crew of boarders get yer gear friend all of it.

Mad_Jack, Ciaran and meself reportin for boarding!

[The Doctor]

:: Jack stops in his tracks and turns back to the impressive sight of Monsignor Diego dressed for combat ::

Padre! Excellent! Now I'm feeling better about this. A trial by fire it may well be, since we've had precious little practice in this area. May I have your and Ciaran's assistance in making sure that our able seaman we have masquerading as marines are properly fitted out to board or defend? Grazzi!