Pyrates of the West Coast

[CaptainCiaran]

(Ciaran sees his target and fires)

I hit that one, Diego. Ye get the other!

[Pirate Petee]

*sprinting to his respective gun, a shot hisses by his head causing him to duck, another smacks into the ships rail sending splinters trough the air, peppering his face. He comes up with both pistols drawn and fires, both shots well off there mark, but causing the target to take cover, he continues to the cannon.*

[CaptainCiaran]

(Diego prepares to fire, but one of the Dark Lament's big guns fires at that moment sending a cannonball right between Ciaran and Diego!

Ciaran swings around on the rope and fires his pistol at the forecastle, striking the second sailor in the chest.)

Take that ye blasted scurvy dawg!

[Pirate Petee]

*finally at his position, he waits for the watch dog to turn to get a clean full broad side.*

Steady men, steady, be ready for a quick reload on the recoil. You sailor we er gonna need grap shot ta clear those decks, ifn we board. Be fast about it.

*looking down the chace of the cannon, out through the gun port.*

ON THE UP ROLL!

NOW

FIRE!!!

BABOOOOOOOM

*the watch dog rocks back and the guns jump pulling tight the ropes on the morring rings, the gun deck fills with smoke, as afull broad side peppers the on coming ship and send splinters flying.*

RELOAD ,QUICKLY MEN ,QUICKLY!

[Rummy3]

...scrambling through the brush to the shore with me crewmates - the commotion causes the lot of us ta scurry ta finds our way back. Does the Watch Dog need defendin? What could have happened in such a short time - we were only ashore for what seemed like minutes. Following Dorian, Armand and Mr Hawks, I looks behind ta see that no one else is followin'

[Pirate Petee]

LOAD THOSE THOSE GUNS WITH DA GRAPE SHOT AND FIRE AT WILL!

[William Brand]

Lead began striking off the rails and masthead. Small shots, mostly muskets.

"The grape shot will come next." William thought, but didn't bother to stop hacking away at the anchor chain. "Better to lose the anchor than the whole damn ship."

Then William was thinking back to Mahdi. What had he said of anchors? What was it he used to always say?

The line split. The rope gave an audible pop and snapped away. Then another tendril of rope went. The cable began to stretch along the weak point and William's work was made easier with each cut. He continued to hack away at the line in an effort to free the ship as fast as possible, when all of it gave way at once and the ship lurched a little to larboard.

William turned with a pleased smile. The ports were flying open along the gun deck. Gunner's were falling into place, dropping down from the lower shrouds to catch up powder and ball. Already firing from above, the lookouts were raining musket fire at the approaching ship.

There was a sound then that William couldn't place at first. It a was soft, thumping sound like a muddy boot on wet wood. He knew the sound, but he couldn't remember from where. It was as familiar to him as the sounds of powder and shot all around him just now. It was as real to him as the splintering wood and the splash of misplaced cannon fire.

Then he remembered where he had heard it before. He had heard that same sound once before aboard the Welshman. He had heard that exact sound when the coxswain had been struck by a musket ball.

"Mister Badger." William began slowly. "Would you be so kind as to fetch the Doctor?"

The Bosun seemed not to hear him and William realized that his voice was barely over a whisper in this din. He began again, but it became no louder by effort. It wasn't the sound of combat that had increased, but the rushing sound of blood in his ears.

Then William looked down to the hand that had gone to the sound. It was at his chest, just below the collarbone. He drew it away filled with blood.

"Damn."

William pitched over suddenly like so much dead wood. His hat toppled at once and one leg bent ahead of the other sending him sideways. His cutlass went wild, almost striking the Master Gunner in the ankle as it pinwheeled across the deck. It came to rest in a pile of lines near the main mast. William's shoulder struck the starboard rail and his chin did a small bounce off the wood there.

. . .

Then he fell farther than a man should fall. He fell into a darkness and a place of memory.

Mahdi's voice came then in its smooth arabic accent...

"Better to lose the anchor than the anchor. For the first is made of steel lashed to the ship only by rope and the other is made of flesh lashed to the ship by will alone. The Captain is the anchor. The other anchor is but ballast by comparison."

[Pirate Petee]

*seeing a sailor of the other ship maning a swivil gun aiming at the watch dogs deck, he quickly turns to see a musket lying on the ground, he picks it up and aims at the enemy gunner. Sqeezing the trigger, sending a cloud of smoke in the air, when the smoke cleared the swivel gunner wasn't there. Suddenly he hears the sound on metal against wood, he looks down to see a cutless slide by his boot. He raises his head to see were it came from.*

oh no.

*the words barly make a sound, he stands there shocked, untill a blast sends him sprawling to the ground.*

KEEP IT UP MEN, DON'T LET UP, POUR IT ON EM!

*he runs to the captains aid. Throwing one arm around his shoulder, he lifts the captain up and drags him to the stairs leading below deck.*

DOCTOR!!!

[CaptainCiaran]

Mon Dieu! The Captain!

(Ciaran yells, as bullets splinter small pieces of wood around him. Ciaran uses the mast to shield himself, as he fires his pistol at the ship which is now so damn close.)

(Ciaran turns toward the Monsignor, who using the same shield and fire technique as he is)

Diego! The Captain! (Ciaran quickly points to the deck where William lies crumpled, blood puddling slightly around his midsection)

Get Doctor Fitzgerald, Diego!

[CaptainSwan]

~The Dark Lament vanished into a thick fog. Lightening and Thunder rolled and struck all around in the open waters. Waves were pitching the ships. The sent of death was still heavily in the air but things seemed unusually calm all of a sudden. Swan looks to Diego and Ciaran and is white. The watch Dog is left in thick wet drowning fog. Rain is pelting down upon them out of no where. The crew can see the sun burning brightly above them but it would not burn through this fog.~

~From above and all around them there is a haunting howl on the wind~

"Release me!"

[CaptainCiaran]

Swan! The Captain! (Ciaran points down as Petee lifts William and head toward Surgery)

[CaptainSwan]

~Swan climbs down to the Captain's aid. ~

Where is the surgeon?!

~swan gets down to examine the captain and his injuries.~

[CaptainCiaran]

(Seeing the Master Gunner hauling Captain William down below, Diego knows it best that he stay in place and fight. He and Ciaran are filled with a rage and turn back toward the fog and smoke enshrouded Dark Lament.)

[CaptainSwan]

~there is nothing to fight just and empty foggy confussion. The voice persists into the darkness~

"RELEASE ME"

~Swan comes back to decks and looks around and stands next to Ciran~

Where is the voice comming from?

[Pirate Petee]

*slowly he brings the captain below and to the doctors quartes. He lays him down. Ripping a piece from his sash, he splits it in two. Pressing one on the captains wound and soaking the other in a near by bucket of water placing it on the captain brow .*

Doctor the captain has been wounded.

[Pirate Petee]

*slowly standing up, he wipes the blood from his own splintered face.*

Don't worry capn will make those miserable bastards pay, no quarter shall be givin an da docter ell fix you right up.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

From the ladden depths of comfort, the Surgeon is roused from deep slumber. The scent of spent powder tinges the air, bringing the dulled senses to keen awareness. The wide expressive eyes of green hue narrow to the recognition of event she does a quick look over and notices the absence of Armand. Without bothering with the cover of boot or shoe, she steps quickly to the companion ladder to gain the deck above.

The view of deck expanse is a mass of chaotic vissage and she stands flomoxed as to how such things could occure. Her mind grasps a fleeting word...impossible. Senses honed to razor's edge gleen the surround then pause in scope to the large frame in support of two hands...The fullness of lip mimics the name belonging to the man and with the agility and liquid movement that years of steel combat have trained, she moves to the scarlet soaked proximity. Pushing through the melee, as a bull of unharnessed rage, she takes no note of the crewmembers jostled to the sides in her passage to the Captain.

Stopping at his side and gathering what she fears true to unconscience knowledge, she glares at those surrounding with reptilian cold. The timbre and volume of vocal outrage should never be possible from such slight a frame...but forth it comes, with the strengnth and ferocity that echos the name she is known by in common circles...Pointing to those who hold the Captain's limp and lack luster form suspended, the Surgeon snarls...

"You impetuous fools!!!"

The narrow of green eyes spear them coldly in turn.

"You do not bare the knowlege to make rash desicions better left to those who should!!"

Glancing to the steady drip of crimson pooling below, she tears a legnth of cloth from the long tail of cotton shirt hanging her frame. Discovering the origin, she places pressure to the entrance and exit points, glaring at the other crewmembers with something edging hatred. The command that sounds gives no question for argument...

"Below!!! Now!!! And with care, mind you. Any stray from what I say will earn the offending soul a gracefull swing from the nearest Yard! Move you blaggard souls and do not dare to test my temper."

Gaining the Ward, the Surgeon eyes each of the milling crewmembers and two words emit from the hiss of clenched teeth..."

"Leave....Now..."

She looks to the door.

"I am not to be disturbed....Is that clear."

She slams the door closed and turns to look upon the inert form near and whispers.

"Oh, William...such a fate to play upon your noble soul...."

[CaptainCiaran]

(from high above, Ciaran watches the events below as if things be in slow motion: smoke and fog linger thick in the air, small fires burn themselves out on parts of the deck, splintered wood floats in the water and lie scattered on the deck, shredded sails hang limp. As Ciaran stares he sees the Captain's bloodied body carried from out of sight as the sound of the Doctor's voice slices the air. There is an awful silence now as the Watch Dog herself seems to heave and sigh.)

[CaptainSwan]

~From the fog appears an apparation. It is Icy cold and appears as a walking storm with swirling grey clouds encasing its transparent form. At the heart of the storm lies a well chisled human man's face. His deep golden amber eyes search the crew. His yellow gold hair whips around his face in wet tendrils. He glides acrossed the ship looking at the crew sadly and longingly. If any make a move on him they would go right through him. His ghostly deep voice rolls in echoing tones as powerful as the sea.~

Fear me or fight me and make me stronger. Love me and release me, head me and save yourselves but most of all release me.

~he moves through the ship leaving puddles of a mixture of salt water and blood in his wake all around the ship. He finds the captain in the surgeon's pressence and leans down to him.~

May the God that damned me save you. Do not expire here from this fight.

~lightening fills the room and goes through the Captain surging him with an energy that is so strong it tieres him to a restful sleep. When he wakes he will feel stronger than he ever has, though he was not healed of his wounds just strengthened enough to make a full recovery and continue living.~

[Pirate Petee]

*once on deck looking around at the aftermath and carnage*

No worries men ya did good, ifin we left the capn up here any longer he coulda wounded worse. He's in the good docters hands now and God's.

Ifin ya please Padre, say some words.

You and you there help get those wounded down below deck, the rest o ya lets start cleanin up this mess.

*exhausted, he sits down on a cannon, wipes the blood from his face, pulls out his pip and lights it.*

[CaptainSwan]

~when the fog begins to lift all the crew can see that there has been absolutely no damage to their ship. The only debris is from what they shot themself at the Dark Lament. ~

[CaptainCiaran]

(As Ciaran looks out upon the water, there is only fog and smoke, and in the distance the Merchantship. Ciaran raises his spyglass. The Merchantship seems to be in the same shape as The Watch Dog -- smoking, battle-worn, the slow, shaken movement of her crew upon her deck. She, too, has battled The Dark Lament, whatever demon ship it be. As Ciaran scans the horizon, there is no sign of the ship they had jes battled; the Dark Lament has vanished.

Ciaran notices now a fog moving across the water. It seems to cover The Watch Dog. He hears a moan or a voice or is it a dream. He holds on tightly to his rope and waits. The fog moves across the ship and the darkness of night falls.)

[Captain Jacob Badger]

(Bo'sun shouts t' the boyz)...........''Full sail!!....get us outta this damn cove.......we's adrift anyhow!!''!......''Morgan...take the helm!.......steer us clear, or it'll be fer all our doom!''!........(.men run...in that oh so trained way)....''.master gunner....do ya thing....with menace!'!...

[Captain Jacob Badger]

God damn.....things move on to quickly in this here plain!!!.....strike the last post.........D'oh!!

[CaptainCiaran]

(Ciaran notices how disoriented the crew feels. No wonder, he thinks. He turns to look back to shore. We have crew on shore somewhere. They must get back to our ship.)