Pyrates of the West Coast

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

It was always in the wee hours of the night that it seemed her mind thrived in its greatest clarity; a certain soothing and balance within her soul that occured when the rest of the world lay unawares in their journeys of slumber. with the muffled chime of ship's bell announcing the pass of hour, Tempest moved from her place of repose to wander the confine of small medical realm. Her footsteps, silent as a mouse in padding across to where her charge lay in deepened slumber.

Standing there in the shroud of shadows, Tempest wondered if the Master at Arms had been as careful in revelations shared as she herself had been. Watching the smooth intake and exhale of breathing a strange thought came to the fore front. It was obvious that there was a withheld further curiosity that Jack had left unvoiced.

Inwardly the Surgeon smiled, for natural deduction would state that there had to be something more than platonic relationship in existance betwixt herself and the Gascon to the outer world...but, it could not be farther from the truth. The simple fact of the matter was, Armand Gabriel D'esnumbuc was nothing more or less than her half brother...a truth unknown even to the elder D'esnumbuc; just another skeleton hanging in the Bertrand family closet, one that was kept quietly and protectively hidden.

"Oh the tangled web we weave..." Tempest whispered to the night as she turned from Jack, regaining the desk's post to retrive a text. Settling into the make shift bedding, glancing once to where Armand slumbered near bolted door, she then focused upon the wisdoms held and given within bound borders...

[Pew]

::Feeling the tenseness ease below decks, I scurry about making ready the "Blackwood" for our next parlay of lead and smoke. Mr. Firethorne and I chat about things most readily to our simple knowledge: family histories, our extensive sailing and naval backgrounds but most of all bloated and elongated stories of debaucheries- true-or-whatnot. In the midst of a yarn about a bottle of rum and sisters from Yorkshire, I suddenly remember our powder monkey has vanished from sight. Mr. Van Buren has been below decks for quite some time now. I ask Mr. Youngblood if it's possible for me to continue the search for the odd Dutchman . . .::

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Stationed atop the quarter deck and being a part the formiddle welcoming committee of the Quartermaster and meself to all those coming on board for nourishment and hygiene. The afternoon turned evening was taking it's toll and by late night my effort to remain with duties dropped my ability to nill. I asked Dorian if I could leave me post as exhaustion had done me in and he presently addressed me to find suitable replace. So I went below and finding Tito entertaining the Dutch crews in the galley with Christine singing along. I asked him to assist on the quarter deck with the Quartermaster. I then went to me quarters where I slept hard not hearing noise one. I slept for what seemed days, dreaming of grassy hills, birds on wing and thousands of butterfies. A springtime blitz of pollen and headaches caused by my sinus attacks. Though when I woke and sat up I was rested and hungry. I rose went aloft to find it was still not quite dawn yet, I asked Christine what was the hour? Thinking it was thirty from wence I dropped off yet finding it only four and twas all me body needed. Funny thing this inner need. I ate and adjourned the main deck to see the lights on the Danzig Trader fully lit and crews working on both of the waterline holes with temporary patches of lumber and many of the Naval compliment I could see was working as well. Aye Good Morning Swan I said as I sees her up in the basket. It's going to be another beautiful day it is!

[William Brand]

William awoke so many times during the night he had stopped counting. He had broken out in a sweat and he was fast becoming too uncomfortable to sleep, though he felt exhausted.

He lay in his bunk pondering all the many ways that they might play this out. He considered the many ports where they might deliver the Dutch crew and the others where they might profit from the sale of their new gotten goods. He listed the pros and cons of every island from here to the mainland in his head and began to eliminate each of them for various reasons.

It was quiet aboard the Watch Dog. Not absolutely still, but quiet.

Some time during the night, the hammer and mallet of the Master Carpenter and Blacksmith had ceased their hammering, though this was no indication that their work was finished. Now, mallets and hammers could be heard reawakening to work on the Danzig Trader.

Though he thought that sleep was beyond his reach, William drifted off again to the sound of wood and iron on wood and iron.

[Dorian Lasseter]

25 June 1704

2 bells, forenoon watch 0900

::It had been an eventfull night, the crews of both ships throwing in and repairing the wounded ship. Soon after the crew of the Danzig Trader were told that we were to help repair the crippled ship, the barge crew warped the Watch Dog close to the merchant so as to allow easier movement between the two vessels. The Watch Dog's Blacksmith and Carpenter had been quite busy making the merchant as seaworthy as possible.

At the change of the morning watch a note was given to the Quartermaster concerning the injured crew of the merchant, seven had died in the night, two being sailors, the rest marines...::

Ah, damned tha' fool of a captain.... so bloody int'rested in savin' 'is cargo... lucky ta be alive...

*Deep sigh of anger*

Well, canna tarry on tha'... much ta be done... Pass Th' Word Fer Th' Master Gunner!

Gonna 'ave him an' 'is crew check o'er th' guns aboard th Danzig... mayhap through certain means we may aquire some... iffn' they be wot we need...

:: Mr. Lasseter writes a note concerning the deaths to be taken to Ms. Fitzgerald::

Tempest, with regret I have recieved a list of those souls who did not wake this morning from the injuries they sustained in the battle to save their ship and it's cargo. I would be grateful if you would assist in making them fit to be recieved by King Posidon and meet their maker. I will also inform Monsignor Diego that his services will be needed once reperations have been made.

Yours,

D. L.

::He folds the paper, and adds it to the note he recieved, then finds the Steward...::

Ms. Smith, please take this ta th' Surgeon, post haste...

:: as she leaves, he turns to look across to the now not so crippled ship, watching as crewmembers scale the lone mast, rerigging it so as to be able to take the strain of yards and sails...::

Pass The Word for Monsignor Diego!

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Having recieved word of the losses incured from the devastating fire aboard the Danzig Trader, I went below and changed into my robes. I felt as though it was not only my duty to usher these brave mens souls towards God's heaven but it too was my right to do so. I asked that word be spread there would be a burial service for those lost at the high noon. Spending those hours I needed to find just the right passages to recite I was ready by the eleventh hour. I prayed

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: the mornings activities weigh heavy on the Quartermasters shoulders, acting as the Master at Arms, he had taken all the swords, pistols, and muskets from the crew, inspected them and returned them to their proper place in the Armoury, under lock and key, only the Captain, himself, and those left to guard the Dutch captain remained armed with Sword and firelock... everything was coming along well enough, he turned the deck of the 'Dog' over to the Bo'sun and had some crew ferry him over to the Danzig Trader, where he surveyed the ship up close for the first time... the scorched deck and hull stank of charred wood, tar and burnt human and animal flesh... many of the ships wounds had been repaired but much was left...

He walked about the ruined deck, down into the tween decks, seeing the ghosty faces of crew look his way as he intruded on their privacy... he tried to give a reassuring smile to them, but by their looks, he failed... he continued through, coming to the surgeons ward, where seven men lay, three of which had been sewn up to their necks in their hammocks, the remaining four waiting for the needle...::

*under his breath*

Poor bastards... dunno 'ow ye were in this life... but ye dinna deserve this... bloody cap'n sulky....

::wiping his hand down his face, he turned away, put a stoic look upon his brow and made his way topside....::

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

With the new menagerie of splint secured into place, Armand and the Surgeon stood duty to either side of the Master at Arm's in support to christening in movement across the Ward. It was a slow process, one that required a certain amount of patience balanced with encouragement. Onward they progressed with steady and unsteady gait to reach the familliar desk, where Jack was allowed a moment or two of rest and a cup of freshly brewed Venitian reward.

Tempest was pleased with Jack's efforts which could not be concealed with the smile of approval that lay over her normally stoic features. The mood betwixt the trio carried no reflection to events of the night past and a lightening of spirit seemed to give renewed life to the room's surround.

Setting the delicate cup down to the worn wooden surface, she gazed placidly to the Englishman and after a moment's thought, spoke with verbal caress...

"Monseigneur, I am in await of news from above in regard to our current situation. If all proves well, Armand shall help you to your private quarters...I am sure that you tire of our company, by now."

The corners of full lips tugged upward in impish smile...

"I shall procure crutches to support your weight, this will allow you more mobility, though I do not encourage an overdoing of such. As always, you are free to send for my audience at anytime if you have concerns...or need for a sympathetic ear in light of recent revelations."

She let the semi-silence hang the air and sipped from delicate rim before continuing.

"I shall ensure that someone is assigned in order to aid your needs while you recover fully. I caution you that the splinting about your damage limb serves rightful purpose, but, do not think for a moment that you should put your complete trust in its' nature...You will be rid of its' burden soon enough."

The emerald pools of sight hazed in slight to inward contemplations then regained clarity and center on Jack.

"It has been a great pleasure, Monseigneur St. Anthony...And mayhaps another time shall present itself where I may be at liberty to cast light upon your wonderings of last eve...Mayhaps."

A muffled scrape of boot heel sounded from the outside world, followed in kind by rapping of hail to the bolted oaken door. Armand inquired to nature of disturbance, the Dragoon's pistol charged and at ready within left handed grasp. Satisfied for the moment to the unseen visitor's want, the heavy plank barrier was removed, the muzzel leveled to target by out stretched arm and the door creaked protest as it was swung to on iron supports.

Awaiting entrance stood the Captain's Steward, eyes wide and unwavering from the large muzzle of murderous desire. The whiter shade of pale that adorned feature was in direct harmonic reaction to small squeek unwantingly emitted and drop of paperment to the planks below. The Gascon lowered the hand cannon, and with sheepish smile, bowed to her with grand flourish, retrieving the dropped object in course of travel. Tucking pistol away, Armand ushered her in and resecured the door.

"Pardon moi, mademoiselle..." The smile widening as the folded parchament was handed back to her possesion.

The Surgeon stood to receive the new guest in welcome.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle Smith... and to what honour do we owe your visit?"

The Steward handed the note over, still a slight shaken by the previous greeting. Tempest offered a cup of refreshment and a seat as she scanned the note's content and shook her head to its' tellings.

"Merde..." The Surgeon whispered underbreath in disgust to the new day's findings as she regained seating. The mental cogs shifted and whirled in brief before the acknowledgment of present being came forward again. A fleeting quid pro quo danced betwixt herself and the Steward in update to the world beyond the Ward. When satisfied, Tempest stood once again and with precise instruction given, the 70 caliber pistol was procured and tucked away to hidden repose.

The coup d'oeil played the trio, lighting one by one upon each before settling lastly on Armand as he lifted the barrier away and pulled the oaken door inward, once again. A silent exchange of concern harkened caution from one to the other, before she handed the parchament into his keeping and made way down illumination diffused path to the brightness above...

[Pew]

::I was finally able to resume to search for our powder monkey below decks. Mr Van Buren had been gone for quite a while at this time. On my way to the hold, I pass many a sailor sleeping in hammocks, alongside casks of water and rum, on sacks of flour; every space inch was taken by either the ship stores or sailors of the Watch Dog. Peering into each corner and crevice I decide that he may have headed foreward into the bow. As I make my way past the cook's bulkhead I turn the corner and suddenly feel a rush of hot on the back of my head. I reach back with my hand and feel blood beginning to run down the back of my neck::

Wot the bloody 'ell . . .

::I turn, yet see nothing. I see the candle on in the galley, yet the light starts to fade. I try and reach for the railing yet find myself unable to tell my hand to do so. Grasping for anything I can, I realize that immediate slumber has taken over, and I give in . . .::

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

In my quarters and with that time where thought evokes closeness to our God. I scribble down a few notes check to see if my things are in order adn finally opens me door on the bells marking high noon.

[The Doctor]

:: Jack totters across the Sickbay deck, focusing on his balance rather than the pain. He appreciates the encouraging presence of the Doctor and Armand, emboldening him to press his progress without worry of injuring himself further. The revelations of the previous evening seem to have forged a bond between the three, even though not another word was spoken on the subject.

Jack smiles as he reaches the writing desk, with it's sweetly steaming prize awaiting him. He listens intently as Dr. Fitzgerald describes the events that should ensure a full recovery. He is looking forward to returning to duty as quickly as possible, knowing full well that he will miss the almost constant company of these two remarkable souls.

Their reverie is broken by the sound of someone knocking at the door. Jack watches as Armand's lightning reflexes respond to the potential threat posed by whoever is on the opposite side of the door. He tries not to laugh as Armand slowly swings open the door to reveal the steward, Miss Smith, her eyes the size of dinner plates as she stares down the muzzle of Armand's pistol. He quickly stows his pistol and welcomes the shaken steward into the Ward with a gallant flourish, locking the door behind her.

But whatever humour that could be found in the previous moments evaporates as the Doctor reads the note Miss Smith had brought her. We are apprised of what has transpired with the Dutch slaver ship, including the conditior of her crew and human cargo. And with a world-weary look upon her face, Dr. Fitzgerald conceals a weapon within her cloathing, gives the note to Armand, and heads topside.

Jack is well acquainted with the business practices of the Dutch slavers, having on more than one occasion boarded such vessels for inspection as they passed through English waters. On the whole, he had little use for the Dutch, and even less for those who ply their trade in human flesh.

[Rummy3]

Mr Hawks is truly a craftsman. The splintered wood of the Danzig Trader would appear unsalvagable to most, yet with his expert tooling, this ship will be sea worthy again. We have been working diligently side by side through most of the night with lanterns lighting our way. He uses precision as he creates supporting braces from his raw metals. Indeed our Captain will be pleased with the progress.

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Making me way up to the main deck and waitin to be surely on board the Danzig Trader I sees quite a gathering upon her decks a quietness of solemn thought and prayer. I am amazed the number of those on this ship with faith. God does work in the most mysterious ways. Taking my place I hold me hands high and as they widen out into a movement offering that like a flower blossums I say:

I was a child just as all of you. We grew up learning from mistakes getting to this place this moment of life together. As we lived through the famines and the plagues that took so many from us we percevered, we made it and it is only with Gods help this occurs. Fire has taken these bretheren from us. Now as you together offer a silent prayer to those departing think of heaven and Gods own design for our existance and what it be that gives us this time to praise him and his glory.

(I waits a long moment feeling the sorrow in these men, these friends missing their own departed)

I will read Psalms 23: 1 - 6 if you know it feel free to say it in accord.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2 He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. 3 He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness For His name's sake. (I am hearing a number of those within this service pick up in unison as the whole did in fact take over I was engulfed in Gods glory to the voice we all as one shared as we continued)

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. 5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; My cup runs over. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me All the days of my life; And I will dwell in the house of the Lord Forever. Amen!

visibly stirred by the moment I drop to the ground and pray to this magnificence. Sobbing weaping and many growns of much unprepared pain are heard. Wence I finally gets back up to my feet I am looking into the eyes of a most formiddable foe and knows them as friends.

Dear heavenly father we give to you our life, it is yours. We give to you our soul, it is yours. We now together give to you our praise... (I trail off in the leading of the lords prayer) "Our father who art in heaven hallowed be ...(only to be over powered by the temultuous sound on the water of a hundred men together believing in life together.) and the glory forever. Amen

[Pirate Petee]

*Walking the main deck and stopping tio make sure that each gun is properly secured, cleaned and covered.*

Wonder if Pew found that sailor, where is Mr Pew.

[Dorian Lasseter]

25 June 1704

1 bell, afternoon watch 1230

::The QuarterMaster walked the deck of the Danzig Trader, after the ceremony, the words preached and the final splash of the dead being sent to the depths... He walked through the ranks of men, some from the 'Dog', some from the Danzig, all with solumn looks about them... All were slow to move, sluggish to get back to the work needed to be under weigh....::

A'right Lads... Chin up... work ta be done... lest ye wish ta remain abobbin' an' such out 'ere... goin' wi' th' wind n' waves...

::upon hearding his words, some of the sailors took heart, walked with a purpose to continue their work, others were not so much encouraged, but plodded on...::

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

I walked over to Dorian and said Quartermaster have you ever witnessed such a gathering of souls I am overwhelmed by the sounds of so many's voice upon the echoing sea. I am with such inspiration right now. How would or should I say, how could I best serve the ship sir? I will need to be in the basket in a while, but I am willing to take part as you need sir?

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aye Monsignor,

I think ye did plenty fer th' lads... take yer leave an' set ta yer duties when th' time comes...

Thankee fer th' service....

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

aye then Would ye know if Jack is about as yet? No matters. I'll go down see if I can sees 'im! Anon Quartermaster.

[CaptainCiaran]

(fully rested after his recent long watches, Ciaran ascends the riggin' to relieve Miss Swan)

"Arr, anything to report, lass?" he asks.

"Nay," she replies, "save for the steady work over on the Danzig, all be quiet on the waters".

(As the lookouts change places, and Swan climbs down, Ciaran notices that indeed the carpenters have been busy transforming the Dutch merchantman. No longer is she the charred hulk that we had first encountered; our skilled woodworkers are busy reconstructing her into a fine sailing vessel.)

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Makin me way down to sick bay I stand at the door and knock (rap rap rap) I wait........ moments turns into a long time (well it's like waitin fer water ta boil you know not long just seems that way when ye think ye need ta hurry) I am there waitin and the door opens and I stick me head in announcin it be me. I see the goodly surgeons attendant Armand I says How is Mr. Jack? I'm sorry I haven't been down to be of any assistance but may I come in and say hello to me old friend?

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: Mr. Lasseter stayed aboard the Danzig Trader, watching over the rebuilding and rerigging of what was to be salvaged, he surveyed, lent a hand, and also played doctor on occasion, resetting a dislocated finger, telling a seaman to stand down after straining his back, and so on... He also spent a moment or two getting a closer look at the cannon the merchant was armed with... she had twelve 9 pounder main guns of iron, and two fine brass 12 pounders for chase guns... the main guns looked somewhat battered about but serviceable, the chase guns were things of beauty, someone spent time keeping them shiney and proper, then again, you can't put a shine on iron cannons...::

*speaks to himself* Hmmm... thems will look fine on 'r ship... purty, purty... where tho.... on th' bow? mebee set two nines there an' add these on th' quarter... gonna hafta wait fer wot Cap'n William wishes...

::His train of thought is interupted by a yell, as a man falls from the foremast rigging to the deck... He rushes over to the man who is wailing in pain, his words are dutch, but it is obvious he is in need of medical attention...::

Aye Lad! Calm yerse'f... Calm... Lessee wot ye done ta yerse'f...

::The QuarterMaster tries to calm the sailor, and check him over, he shrieks when his left leg is touched...::

Aye... busted yer leg... bruised up yer arm... Calm yerse'f, I say! Surgeon'll fix ye up right... soon.... stay down.... Aw fer.... You! Hold this man down! keep 'im calm til we gets Tempest... 'r da they 'ave a doctor aboard?

::Mr. Lasseter looks about at everyone, just standing about, watching the wounded man....::

A'right Lads! He gonna be fine... back ta yer duties... someone fine out iffn these dutchies has a doctor... or go fetch Ms. Fitzgerald...

::the second bell of the first dog watch sounds as they wait....::

[The Doctor]

:: Jack hears the good Monsignor's voice at the door of the Sickbay. Having walked twice from his bunk to the writing desk, then back again, he was just settling back to rest his leg ::

Monsignor! How good it is to see you! Please, Armand, let him in. I have a thousand questions for you, Father. How is the Captain? And what of these Dutch slavers and their vessel? Have we made a prize of her?

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

Armand turned to the surgeon and Jacks voice I heard and she waved me in I bowed in thanks turned the tight corner to face Jack looking up at me (i don't know why I started whispering in there but i did and I said) so jack i sees yer bright eh? and how's the leg? The captain is a marvel in the crunch Jack I never seen the likes of. Yer gonna be ok I hear and man you shoulda seen the dammage this scalliwag of a Dutch captain allowed happen to is ship. No worse for wares cept short a sleep the crews doing its job fine and we're rebuildin a few things fire totally took from them. So did ya here the captain put their captain in chains and took over their ship a very religious crew and they were transporting 50 some marines to their colonies in South America, Guinneas something ergh other. We buried a few of them on the noon that didn't make it through their fire, twas a fully inspiring service it were and I think the captain is going to get a nice little cutter out a this trade. Other than that and the likes o the carpenter and the smith rebuildin the mast Petees gunners took out in but three firings I think its best not ta keep ya from resting easy my friend. Better go now I said and without even waitin around fer more questions I felt as if I were being interviewed fer a position with a council erghh courtiers and the likes. I turned nodded to Armand and then the surgeon in retreat I was glad to see Jack without pain and fever. Look forward to his return I does.

[Pirate Petee]

* while inspecting the guns, he catches something out of the corner of his eye. He quickly turns and sees a sailor fall from the rigging of the dutch ship. He runs to the rail of the watch dog and pulls out his spyglass and takes a closer look.*

[William Brand]

William woke during the ringing of the sixth bell of First Watch. He sent his steward for reports of all actions and watches. Messages were delivered with speed from all quarters and William was soon satisfied that all was well.

After a time, Miss Smith brought him food and drink. She placed it at the table and then assisted him to his chair. He made no arguments.

"Captain, what should be done with Mister Scully?" She asked.

William smiled at her use of titles when addressing the former captain of the Danzig.

"See that he receives all the fresh water that he can handle from our stores, but no food. I would not want him to forget his recent errors."

He passed the remainder of the daylight on the subject of the Danzig Trader and where they might bring her into port. He had to find a careful place in which to return the Danzig. Some place both neutral and near at hand.