Pyrates of the West Coast

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Jean Micheale Fournier approached the other and stopping close enough to keep words to their hearing alone, he spoke...

" Our buisness is not finished as of yet, Capitaine...And I doubt that you will be going anywhere with that crippled trader unless it is your intention to tow it....That is not something that I could recomend."

He stepped back a pace.

"Au revoir for now, Capitaine...Hollande."

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

We watched from the deck of the Merchantman as our captain stood atop at rails edge and addressed the French Officer. We waited and saw our captain having waited for his accompanyment to descend the ropes then too heaved oever and dropped safely to the barge Sampsons deck. I looked at Lenaerts expression and found him studying me his return. I didn't know quite what to think. I addressed Mr P E W from the corner of my mouth. Captains back on the Sampson, All is well! Pass the word stand down. I repeat stand down! Mr Lenaerts would you be so kind so as to address those below to again and sorrowfully so stow the weapons sir?

[Kendra The Sea Maid]

*Once the exciment began, in one big swooping mostion Simon heaved Kendra over his shoulder and down below they both went. He gentley tossed her into his bunk and just before leaving he kissed her cheek* Stay here,*for a moment he reminded her of her father* Don't move and don't make a sound. *she simply nodded, here! *he handed her, her sewing shears* Just in case! *With that he ran back up on deck to help. She cluched them tight and prayed that no one would find her and if they did. . .may her first thrust be the one that saved her life!

[The Doctor]

Armand, I must regretably, and only briefly, desert my post. I will leave you, as able as I know you to be, to guard the Armoury.

:: Jack loads the the third English pistol, with grenado cup, stuffed with grapeshot and double-charged. He took up his makeshift walking stick and pressed into the companionway ::

I shall be back in no more than 10 minute's time. Of that, I assure you, my new friend.

:: He took off down the companionway, and in minutes found himself before the Tailor's door ::

Miss Kendra! Do not be alarmed, for I am coming in!

:: Jack opens the door to find Kendra frightfully clutching a pair of shears. Her eyes are frantic, not knowing what to expect next ::

Miss Kendra... :: Jack's tones are soothing, attempting to calm her frightened mind :: All is well. We are in dialogue with a French ship, but I cannot warrant their intentions toward us. You are being looked after, on many different levels. If your Giant is not here, I can only gather he has gone above to assist the able hands. In his absence, dear Miss, I can only offer this...

:: Jack produces the double-charged pistol, and hands it to her, butt first ::

It is loaded with grapeshot, so you will need to make the first volley count. I have no doubt you are most fearsome thereafter with your shears.

:: He ensures that she understands how to cock and fire the pistol, and he smiles reassuringly to her as he brushes her hair away from her pale face ::

No harm shall come to you, as long as I draw a breath, Miss Kendra.

:: Jack kisses her on the cheek, and departs her cabin, locking the door behind him. He makes his way back to the Armoury to a waiting Armand ::

How did I do, monsiuer?

:: Jack settles into his corner, resting his throbbing leg ::

"Twelve minutes, monsiuer. But, who is counting?", smiled Armand.

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Unmoving from the stern rail, the Surgeon kept vigil at the Quartermaster's side. She trusted William's judgement in matters of diplomacy, but had deepest wish that he had sent her across as an emissary to bring the other commander here.

Tempest's assumptions of deduction had been proven true, the thirty-two gun frigate had been Chasse de Mer, and with the first clear view across the way of watery seperation, the capitaine had been confirmed, as well. The presence of Dorian's nearness settled some of her aprehension, and the reapearance of William seated safely within the barge did well to subside more of it; never the less, until she could speak with the Captain in private audience, the last of her tension would not be quelled in full.

Moving unconsciencously closer to the Quartermaster's side, the Surgeon watched with intensity as the barge pushed away to return home.

[Captain Jim]

All hands back on the barge, Mister Warren takes brisk command: “Alright lads, let us be getting the Captain back ta the ship. Together now: Pull! Look smart, now, them pretty French sailors be lookin’ at us.” One look back at the French warship brought a salute from the young Lieutenant; Jim respectfully returned the salute.

Aside to the Captain, Mister Warren inquired, in words barely audible, “Would ye be needin’ the services o’ the doctor when we return? Aye, ye held up well. ‘Tis only after ye took yer ease in the stern sheets that ye broke out in tha’ sweat.”

[CaptainCiaran]

(Ciaran watched as the barge pulled smartly away from the Chasse de Mer. The Lookout's mind raced with so many questions about our Captain's time below deck. What would the French vessel do next? Why were they here? Would they attack? Would we attack? What bearing would the presence of our Dutch guests and ship have upon the encounter?

Ciaran's thoughts, however, were interupted as a seagull flew overhead, circled the Watch Dog twice and landed on the very tip of the main mast.)

[Pirate Petee]

*wakeing up from a nap, he rises and stretches. Rolling and stoeing his hammock he then leans over to his sea chest and opens it. Digging through clothes and other items he pulls a pipe out from wraped rags and its lighting utensils, and fills his tankard from the cask in the chest, and walks up the main deck. He then lights his pipe and takes a long swig from his tankard. He pulls out his glass and watches the french ship.*

[Rummy3]

A whole lot of quiet is roaring in me ears as I stands near Mr Hawks on the deck. Instinct makes me draw me flute and begin playin a soft, slow melody.

[Dorian Lasseter]

::as the Quartermaster stood at the stern rail, watching his Captain being ferried back to their ship, 8 bells of the forenoon watch were rung on the french frigate and the sound floated across the water to the Watch Dog... Mr. Lasseter remained unmoved, though his stomach did protest at not being fed since the night before. He remained at watch, scanning the deck of the 'Chasse de Mer' for any possible threat. Scanning back to the quarterdeck, he came upon one of the officers staring at him through a glass. Dorian smiled and waved, to which the french officer returned the wave. Satisfied that all was well, the Quartermaster lowered his glass and heaved a sigh of relief....::

It appears all went well... thay look ta be at rest... should be interestin' what th' cap'n 'as ta say...

:: Collapsing his glass and placing it in his pocket, he turned towards the Surgeon, who was almost brushing up against him...::

Aye Lass, a bit tense are ye?

::he puts an arm around her shoulders and gives a quick squeeze::

Ah, relax.... methinks all is well... unless they just be waitin' til all 'r aboard afore they open fire...

Cap'n'll let us know soon enough...

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

The wind is getting worse and the seas have jumped double in size we are bobbing around like a broken raft. Clouds heavy with a greenish grey glow and a ringing in me ears is overpwering me conceptions of what could be and will be. I can only ask in our captains return the best of that which is, is now ours.

I look over to Visser who has been near to our wanderings all morning but more like a roving mole watching listening and learning. I call him over. Carpenter I says. we best do the best we can to batten down the hatches there be a squall headin in to our face and I will be goin over to the Watch Dog to discuss our cuttin loose.

I think about the list I need to address the captain with:

To begin, we must begin passing over barrels of water and grog. Dried beef and fish, oats and grain, then we have to get this ship to shore.

[Pew]

::I see the Padre scurrin' about, cupping my hands I yell over the wind::

Padre, Tito and I 'ave finished lashin' down ta cannon. Shall we begin to offload some barrels of the Danzig's stores?

[Sealegs Constance]

Sees the massive black cloulds, feels the winds getting stronger and sees that the waves are getting rough. Shakes her head and mutters to herself "This is going to be on long watch." Then heards the calming tune Rummy is playing on her flute and hums along to herself while helping pass over the barrells that need to be moved.

[William Brand]

William smiled and raised an eyebrow to Mister Warren's comments.

"You keep a good pace on the rowers, Mister Warren, and an even and steady grip on your nerves and their actions. I appreciate that. A ship's helm is only ever as steady as her helmsman."

Though William extended the compliment genuinely to the coxswain, his voice sounded distant and his eyes betrayed that he was far away in thought. He was quiet ever after. Even when they reached the Watch Dog, his thanks to Mister Warren and the barge crew seemed removed. He climbed the ropes, and though a sweat had indeed formed at his brow, the effort seemed too small to trouble him from his thoughts.

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: Mr. Lasseter took his arm from around the Surgeon as the Samson came along side the Watch Dog... he then headed down into the waist to greet the captain. As the captain came up the side and onto the deck...::

Aye Cap'n... Wot news?

::The captain did not respond right away, a distant look on his face... finally he aknowledged the Quartermaster's presence::

"Mr. Lasseter... We are in no danger from the frigate at this time... I must have some time to think... I'll be in my quarters... no one is to disturb me, unless it is of utmost importance..... You have the ship...."

::With those words, he turned and headed below....::

Aye Cap'n... Aye...

:: a look of concern flashed across Mr. Lasseter's face, to be quickly replaced by a blank look...::

Right Lads!!!

Stow e'erythin' down! Looks like a wee squall headin' r' way! We gonna ride it out, then see wot's ta be done after!

Bo'sun! Shore up th' sails, storm sails on'y! Reef 'em up!

Master Gunner! Shore up all guns!

Mr. Warren! Get th' Samson aboard an batten'd down!

Send word o'er ta' th' Danzig ta do th' same!

::Orders given, the Quartermaster heads to the quarterdeck, taking his place at the lee side of the deck... the spray sweeping over all...::

[The Doctor]

:: Jack and Armand were carrying on quite the conversation when the Watch Dog heeled over hard to larboard, and a rush of air invaded the Armoury carrying the scent of heavy rain with it. Jack grabbed an armfull of musquets that threatened to topple over. He hopped upright, careful to put no weight on his right leg ::

Seems like the weather has turned. Come, help me secure these weapons.

[Pirate Petee]

*Opening his sea chest and pulling out his frock coat, he returns to the main deck.*

Aye quartermaster.

Alright men lets get those guns stowed tight and plugged up. Dont want any loose cannons flying around on us.

*walks up to the fore castle and pulls out his glass, looking out to the horizon.*

Looks like we be in for a bit o a blow.

[Diego Santana de la Vega]

with the captain back on the "Dog" i went across the planks to address him but he rather rapidly made haste and went to his quarters. Having waited long enough for pitch to dry the captains steward came out and i addressed the opportunity to see him and was rejected. I went over to the galley and stole the leftover luncheon foods. The storm was hitting hard by the time I got back over to the Merchantman. Mr P E W was done and he and Tito were practicin wood carving off the aft guns area. Still their marines were below.... Very religous and order following men these Danes.....

[Tempest Fitzgerald]

Leiutenant Dominique-Gaston Lamaire stood the quarterdeck and, with aid of 'glass, scanned upper surfaces of the near distant frigate. His cousin had retreated back to quarters with the departure of the man known as Capitaine Hollande, nary a word was mentioned in regard to the parley that had recently taken place below. Not that Dominique had given any real effort in pondering what had transpired, Fournier would reveal his thinkings soon enough, in a more private venue as was to be expected. Lamaire safely assumed it was only a matter of time before he would be requested to Jean-Micheale's audience and there observations would be aired over some well bouqueted spirit.

Moving the 'glass away for a moment, the pale blue eyes watched the progress of the barge as it pulled away and steadily made passage to its' mother in arms. The Lieutenant had to admit that he had been more than a little impressed by the manners of the Chien de Garde's members as they waited on deck for their Capitain's return above to go back across. Not that he had any pre-conceived notions of the Anglais and whether they were of bad nature or not. Dominique, much like his cousin, prefered to let men show themselves for what they were before putting them in a labeled catagory. Lamaire had thought it only proper to extend hospitality in good faith, to the now departing launch crew, and had even been amused by the coments shared betwixt himself and the man now guiding the barge by position of coxswaine's command.

Bright flash off to the right brought the Lieutenant's attention back to the other frigate's stern and reinstating 'glass for visual decearn, he was met with a mirror of his own bearing. From stern rail perch, the other waved in acknowlegement to being viewed from afar, and Lamaire returned the gesture in kind with unconscience smile. Dominique was in mid-thought of collapsing the cylindrical extention of sight, when the figure to the left of his doppleganger called attention to scrutiny. Panning to proximity, the pale hue of blue vision centered, and what was seen took him aback enough to prompt a small gasp of disbelief.

Lowering the glass, his mind raced to decipher what was discovered and for a hesitation to time's progress. Dominique-Gaston Lamaire debated next actions and found only the hurdles of quandry in return for effort. It was during this moment of contemplation, that the wind shifted in course and what seemed a calm quickly changed its' vissage to the mark of darkening skies in omnipotent stature. As he composed relay of orders, the well-oiled human machine around him began its' clockwork flurry of motion to stage counter against the wants of impending gale...

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: It had been nearly nine hours since the storm had blown in... first it was not much, light rain, choppy water.... slowly it built into a harder rain and wind... now the storm was getting almost out of hand, the two ships had occasionally ground against each other, but now the storm threateded to butt them against each other relentlessly... it was time to do a fearful thing...

The Quartermaster had only left the deck to fetch his oilskins, and make sure all the others that had them did the same...::

MR. BADGER!!!

SEND WORD TA TH' DANZIG! GET OUR CREW OFFIN' 'ER AND INFORM TH' SHIPS MASTER THA' WE MUST CUT 'EM LOOSE! OTHERWISE WE RISK SENDIN' BOTH O' US TA TH' DEEP! SOON AS 'R LADS 'R ABOARD CUT 'EM LOOSE! THEY'S NOT GOIN' FAR! WE'LL FIND 'EM A'TER THIS BLOWS ITSE'F OUT! GO! NOW MAN, GO!

::The Bo'son nodded and yelled 'Aye, aye' it was barely heard above the wind... he then headed into the waist and perolously crossed to the other ship... shortly returning with the crew from the Watch Dog that was aboard, he then shouted to the crew standing by with axes who swiftly hacked the cables holding the two ships together... ::

MR. WARREN! KEEP US CLEAR OF THEM! HELM ALEE!

[William Brand]

The Captain stood on the quarterdeck in the driving rain for a full ten minutes before anyone noticed him there. All were about there duties, each drowning in rain and responsibility. William stood there, watching them separate the two ships.

When Mister Lasseter was finished enough to notice him they met there on the quarterdeck.

Mister Lasseter found William standing with his crutch, even though he barely leaned on it at all. In fact, it seemed like an affectation or an afterthought. He had a face that seemed undisturbed by the rain. In fact, the captain looked as though he didn't even notice it.

"This rain will prove difficult for the match and powder." William said quietly, almost below the sound of the rain.

[Dorian Lasseter]

"This rain will prove difficult for the match and powder." William said quietly, almost below the sound of the rain.

::The QuarterMaster looked the Captain in the eyes as best he could in the driving rain, trying to tell the mood of his Captain....::

Aye... Aye, it would indeed... this storm's no place fer a fight...

Has th' weather put ye in a fine mood, 'r was it them frenchys?

::Mr. Lasseter stood, waiting for the captain to respond, arms at his sides, feet seeming attached to the deck as his body seemed to stay in one place as the ship moved around him...::

[William Brand]

William doesn't move, but his eyes slide over to the rain blurred visage of the French frigate. His face is still a thinking mask and he says nothing for a time.

"Mister Lasseter. What think you are chances are of fighting off the Chasse de Mer?"

[CaptainCiaran]

(Ciaran remained steadily at his position in the basket during the storm. He loved the wind, the rain, and the fantastic listing to and fro. But the lightning he did not enjoy. It crashed and hissed around the ship and Ciaran felt like the gods must enjoy hurling lightning bolts at sitting ducks -- good target practice for 'em. But Ciaran smiled as he remembered that he had named Cannon 13 in honour of Zeus, god of lightning. That must surely be worth something. He breathed deeply and felt safe.)

[Dorian Lasseter]

:: Mr. Lasseter looks from the captain to the shape of the french ship and back again several times... ::

Are ye sayin' things aboard dinna go as well as expected, Aye?

:: he waits for the captain to answer, but he does not, so the Quartermaster continues::

As fer iffn' we c'n fight 'er off...Aye, long as we come outta this blow a'right we got a fine chance..... plus I say we got better manuverability than 'er... not tha' she be a wallowin' scow like th' dutchy... a couple o' well placed shots o' chain an' she could be a sittin' goose... I c'n tell tha' she be a tightly run ship tho.... may not be tha' easy....

::He contemplates what might be on the captain's mind... if we are to fight the french ship or let things lie, weather they be uneasy or not....::