Pyrates of the West Coast

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Aye aye Captain! If you would sir Swan Ciaran and meself will tangle with the sharpeshooting Allowing Swan the silent ways of her bow till we are known of! Sir!

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Aye aye Captain! Master Gunner and Rummy sir!

Turning and taking the stairs up to the main deck, I was on the wings of angels... First Master Gunner Petee was seen and I says to him in a whisper, Captain says this ship is silent starting right now. No noises pass the word sir! And then, the captain will have yer presence in his quarters sir! Turning and seeing Rummy on the quarter deck I make my way. Rummy I tell her too in a whisper the captain is with need of your presence but first lass know he too has given the orders of alls quiet, not even a burp! got it? She nods yes. Good I turn looking up. It is Swan in the main basket again turning to face the bow Ciaran is in that one. (thinking smart lookouts they be) I go below and check out three muskets powder and shot I begin me climb upon the rigging reaching Ciaran I says in me whispered voice, Captain says all quiet! Nay not a noise, silent as we go sir! Here's another musket for you sir! Are you good on balls and powder? Also Swan is going to begin the silent arrow assault upon the armed guards on board wait until our notice afore you crack to fire. He nods and winks I exit sliding down and then across and back up to Swans basket. Whisperin I says Swan do you have enough arrows? Can I get you more? I mean to say? Captain is lookin fer you to take out the officers and any marines holding post and weapons silently with yer bow. He too has said this ship from here on out is silent not even the thought of a noise! Be with silence, dead aim and god's will lass, I wish you well! Now wait for the Quartermasters mark for you to start taking out the armed guards. Cairan s got your back and I will be under you in the web.

[Pew]

**I see Van Buren next to me staring out to sea. His knuckles 'ave turned white gripped 'round the railing. I nudge him in the ribs and he doesn't flinch.**

[Pirate Petee]

Thanks ye father. Ya be lookin like ya gonna be sendin someone ta see yer boss.

*heads down to the captains quarters and knocks on the door*

Captain, master gunner reportin as ordered.

[Rummy3]

Receptive to the Monsignor's directive, i silently make my way to the Captain's cabin - right on the heels of Pirate Petee. "I am here as well, Captain," I announce.

[William Brand]

Mister Youngblood. Miss Rummy.

I mean to take this ship intact. I know this will comes as a disappointment to men of your fine crew, Mister Youngblood, but you may yet have a chance to fire a round or two.

We are going to offer our assistance to this stranded ship. It shall be a very "expensive" assistance. If they refuse, I will send orders for you to fire a persuasive warning shot or two across her midships. I want these shots to clear the deck and hull...but...if these shots should find there way to the Mainmast, you won't hear any arguments from me.

William smiles a devious smile. A predator's smile and waits for Mister Youngblood's smile in answer to it.

"However, there is another matter. They have a cutter in the water. I want it. If you should even accidently harm this cutter, I will be most upset by this news.

Once we have their compliance, given or forced, you must immediately surrender half your gunners to assist in the helping or stowing of our guests. Keep as many swivel gunners as you believe you can spare at those guns until they are relieved by either myself or Mister Lasseter."

William turns to the Master Carpenter.

"Rummy, I need your understanding of Dutch merchantmen. Please assist the Master Gunner in selecting those targets that may induce the most damage without endangering the loss of our prize. It may become necessary to alarm the Dutch without sinking their fine ship.

We may yet have some new cannons and carpentry tools aboard the Watch Dog very soon."

[Pirate Petee]

Aye aye sir.

*grins*

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Approximately 15 N 35 16 W 28

French Frigate Chasse de Mer

Soft glow of yellowed illumination flickered shadow play upon the deep burnished wooden walls of the Great cabin; from behind the long legnth of mahogany polished surface, the cumbersome weight of azure velvet stirred to the waft of room's inhale from the stern facade of glass left to slight gape. The thrum of liquid wake sang its presence to the two men gracing quater's confine, almost desperate in its apeale of notice and going so far as to offer a natural light show amonst its churn by way of tiny phospherous creatures rolicking amidst. Two sets of boots echoed each other's sentiment upon eloquated mahogany footrest that had burdened the wieght of dish and delicately prepared fare under normal usage.

First Lieutenant Dominique-Gaston Lamaire leaned forward from chair's support to obtain the decanter of Calvados sitting exacting distance betwixt himself and his Capitaine; finding it an impossible task with present repose, he removed his boots to the floor below. Refilling his glass then topping of Fournier's own, he resumed the former placement of foot adornment and leaned a little deeper to the high backed chair's support and sipping from the elixir, watched his quiet companion in question. As if feeling the intense scrutiny from across the reflective divide, Jean-Micheale rousted from mind's wanderings and returned the scrutiny.

"Que?"

Dominique gave a vissage of innocence and returned the query,

"Que? I could as the very same, cousin. Such a sour manner you present, it is as if we were returning to Fort-de-France rather than leaving. What doldrums of mood you have this eve and with us so close to Dominque that we could throw stones to taunt les Anglais while they wallow about in the night."

The Lieutenant chuckled at the thought before downing the goblet's content. Realizing the mirth was not to be shared, he recomposed his expression. Fournier considered his wording carefully before voicing opinion...

" I am of serious contemplation towards the act of resienging my commision..."

Dominique let loose a bray of laughter which rang the wooden walls brazenly until the second realization that the mirth, once again, was not shared.

" You are surely lighting jest...." His features became a picture of confussion. "You cannot be serious...Capitaine Jean-Micheale Fournier, second son to the notorious Amiral Fournier...What are you thinking, mon cousin? To throw away such brilliance in career...Mon Dieu, you were made into rank by twenty-four for your capabilities alone..."

The Lieutenant digested what had been announced in brief then centered his attention back to the other man and atated as if in challenge,

"Jean...You could not go on without the thrill of the hunt. It is part of your being as much as that of your brother's and your father's...It is foolishness that you speak."

Fournier removed his heels from table surface and leaning nearer to close the gap between himself and the other, the fire of amber hued sight trapping his cousin's paler blue reflection.

"But...There are more ways than one in which to answer the call to the Hunt...and that too, runs in our family..."

Lamaire blinked at the hinted subject and a name of one kindered to their shared bloodline passed from mind to quiet voicing...

"Monbars..."

The smile that played Fournier's expression seemed to chill the near surround with its feral quality in reply to his cousin's announcement...

[William Brand]

William waited in the near total darkness of his cabin as messages came to and were sent from his cabin. The ship was so quiet at times, that William half imagined being abandoned aboard the large ship and left to fend for himself.

As the time grew close, William sent for the doctor.

[Cut-throat]

With fingers itching at the trigger, Johnson does not move a muscle. His predatory eye and wolfish grin fix upon the future prey. The trusty murder-gunner anxiously awaits the command of the Master Gunner, or any other superior for that matter. All he wanted was to fire that marvelous weapon, and take as many men to the bottom of the sea as possible........

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The soft rap on wooden surface drew the Surgeon from current scribing and with reassurance to the Master at Arm's of soon return, she left the familiar surround for the landscape of Great cabin.

Gaining entrance, she stood with respect to the Captain and waited for the reasoning of formal request.

[William Brand]

She was a shape in the doorway and then a shape near the table. Everything was shadows within shadows in the quiet dark.

"Please have a seat, Doctor." William said quietly, then he waited for the sound of her as she found a chair in the dark.

"Merci beaucoup." She replied as she settled into a chair.

William smiled. "I've always found a woman's voice speaking French in the dark most appealing."

"Have you now? That is most revealing." she returned.

He could hear her smiling in the dark and the silence lingered for a time. The soft thump of feet passed overhead and he could feel the ship slowing. It was ever so subtle, but William had felt it often enough.

"I wish I could say this was meant to be a social visit, but the truth is that we plan to take this Dutchman in the water and it is quite possible that blood will be spilt. It may be avoided, but one can never tell the outcome of such things."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

In the darkend surround, she closed her eyes to the declaration; a sigh of resignation fleeting the silence.

"I shall do as is expected of my warrent..."

The mental cogs turned within cranial borders to the fates that could be tempted to such acts.

[William Brand]

"I would like you to be armed in the event that this turns on us. I doubt that such an unlikely event will ever take place, but I would feel much better if your surgery was defended. Both yourself and Armand should be armed.

I've seen Armand. I've seen how he moves and responds to everything around him. Unless I am much mistaken, he has had some training.

May I ask if he served in some capacity as a soldier? Perhaps a Marine?"

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

There was a panic that rose within her being at the Captain's mention of her companion's shadowed past. The darkness that laid as heavy adornment to her seating covered the sudden start of her small frame and the mental cogs of her mind churned rapidly to what should be said.

"Non..." Tempest bit her lower lip in nervous habit.

"He is a natural at things....He learns quickly...."

Her voice faded into the silence, and for all the years that the enigma had sustained itself without fault or hitch, she found her words carried a certain unconvincing air, even to her own ears.

[William Brand]

"Doctor...Tempest...I would never harm Armand or allow him to be harmed."

William said in his most reassuring tone. "Half of the men and women aboard this ship have a past worthy, or even unworthy of imprisonment. Most of us are wanted men.

I alone have such crimes both real and imagined piled upon my head that I can scarse lift myself up from the weight of accusations.

And here, on this ship, I have laid under your knife and under your absolute mercy as a surgeon. Do you think I would answer your repairs on me with any treachery? No, good Doctor. Never that."

William's voice was sympathetic as he spoke. He had known enough false accusations in his own life to fill several printed volumes, stitched and bound. There were enemies still that would sell him at half the price offered for his capture.

"A yes or no will suffice, good Doctor. I need know nothing more than his ability to defend himself and you."

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

The Surgeon listened with keen intensity to every nuance and condentation represented within the diembodied voicing that drifted from dark proximity. There was truth in the words, but there was a struggle of conscience that waged war within her soul. The silence hung the air with the echoed density of darkness. Quietly...ever so much with care and barely above whisper, she found herself proffering words that had not left her keeping since Ireland...

" Oui...And if what I tell unto you leaves this room, there will be no reckoning of Hell that will equal the turn of Destiny that will be summoned...."

She paused with deep inhalation then its reverse before continuing.

"He was a Lieutenant des Chasseaurs a' Cheval de la Regiment de Dauphin...A Dragoon...."

[William Brand]

"Thank you, Doctor. Please arm yourself for the possibility of bloodshed...and..." William paused, smiling again. "...the possibility of bloodshed."

William said no more on the matter. He passed her a small glass filled with a strong, but warming drink of a questionable vintage. They drank a wordless toast and he dismissed the Doctor with his thanks, asking her to retreive sufficient arms for her and Armand's use.

[Pew]

**Seconds turn to minutes, for what seems like an eternity. I stand at "Blackwood" and look down the line. Cut-throat, poised and ready, looks over and nods slowly. Beyond stands Siren and Firethorne ready for the call. I see Petee standing behind the line, arms crossed with just the trace of sweat beginning to form on his brow . . .**

[CaptainCiaran]

(Throughout the night we watched in silence as the fire aboard the Dutch merchantman blazed. It was a spectacular display, the flaming tongues leaping upward, the orange light dancing in the night sky and on the water's face. It mesmerized us -- those flames -- as we watched from the safety of The Watch Dog. Our ship was in darkness, as we dared not light the first candle nor lantern. We were as yet unseen to the frantic crew of the merchantman -- invisible to them, yet like a serpent so very close and ready to strike.

And, now far off on the horizon, the first appearances of light began to announce Aurora's arrival, faint streaks of pink etching upward from the east.

Glass to eye, Ciaran could see in these first moments of early light that most of the fires aboard the merchantman were extinguished, although thick smoke continued to rise and glowing embers still showed. There was much movement aboard the deck, yet still The Watch Dog had not been seen.)

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

a silent prayer: Grant these warriors of the Watch Dog those wondrous resolves of bless-ed safety lord as in your name we go into battle proclaiming your most worthy mightyness. Keep our interests in your care and we shall give you your most welcome acclaim. In your name we pray. Amen.

[Pew]

**Slowly and quietly I see Mr. Lasseter on the port side gather a few men and arms, then the barge crew begins to lower the Samson. I had never seen such precision and stealth in my all days in the Royal Navy**

[Pirate Petee]

*Patiently waiting, and standing tall behind the lines, with his arms crossed. A small grin on his face he wipes his brow of sweat. He begins moving down the lines to each gun position whispering to the gunners and making sure they know there orders.*

Main gunners if fireing starts you are not to fire at the hull nor deck, try an hit that main mast, I belive only two shots will do. Mind the cutter and long boats the captain wants ta take them as a prize, any harm befalls them it be lashing fer sure. Swivel gunners keep a watch on that deck fer marines, we be trying ta take this without many a shot fired so stay steady and wait fer the word.

[Dorian Lasseter]

June 23, 1704

3 bells, morning watch 0530

::It has been a long night, shadowing the happenings aboard a burning Dutch merchant, the Watch Dog staying just out of the reach of the firelight... poised to strike at the oppertune moment... Twenty minutes in the past the QuarterMaster had Mr. Warren sway out the Samson, settling it in the water so gently that not a sound was made, the crew made their way over the side and down into the barge, silent as a cat, even with the bulk of arms encumbering their movements, at the signal given by the QM, they are to shove off, Mr. Warren at the tiller.... the sweeps made not a sound, the tholes being rigged with burlap to stop any squeaking. Soon they were being hauled along behind the ship on a line. Once the signal is given, they would circle around to the opposite side of the merchant, ready at the signal from their ship... If they see the Watch Dog's "Colours" run up, they were to attack, if they saw a blue and white checkered flag run up, they would assist in helping the crew abandon their ship... until that time they were to remain on vigil...::

::Mr. Lasseter found himself back on the quarterdeck, looking through his glass, watching the feverish movement aboard the crippled merchant, the crew had put out most of the flames, but not in time to save even one mast or shred of canvas... all their ships boats were in the water, filled to capacity with the cargo that was in the hold... hardly a place was left for crewmembers to man the boats...

Mr. Lasseter put away his glass, his hands dropping to the handles of his weapons...::

Aye... Iffn' they's smart... they a'ready know they got no choice but wot we give 'em... Ms. Smith, would ye tell th' Cap'n we's about ta make 'r se'fs known ta the 'prize'... Thankee kindly...

[Cut-throat]

Johnson hears the whispers of the Master Gunner. Turning his head to reply, Johnson whispers " Aye sir ! Got it. Clear the deck on the word only....Ready when ye' are ". Picking his target with a weather-eye, Johnson waits in viscious anticipation.