The Watch Dog

[Red Cat Jenny]

Miss Ashcombe laughed watching the proceeding of the two young boys. She couldn't help letting escape some emotion of the moment. She'd found a place out of harm and work's way near enough to hear if the Captain or Mr. Pew needed her. Jenny stood with her back to the ship's Jollywatt, still holding her hat against the stiffening breeze which licked at the edges of anything not tied down fast. It brought with it the smells of the open ocean and the brisk sting of salt spray, humming in ones ears constantly like the beating of wings. The deck lightly pitched and rolled yet no one seemed the worse for it, moving about their work with an almost gracefulness unique to a life in motion. The experience was quite different than she had remembered from the crossing to Martinique five years past and more like the earlier thrill of crossing the Atlantic as a carefree child.

Jenny had become near giddy with the exhilaration of the past half hour. The enthusiasm of those onboard was palpable and even the Lucy herself seemed to gain new life, stretching wooden arms towards the horizon and puffing out proud chests of canvas. The swells were growing larger as the land receded and the water deepened, changing from a smoky almost muddy blue to shades of deep emerald, frosted with foam. There were calls and answers as orders too many for her untrained ear to discern, seemed to cross the deck and climb above in their own rhythm. All about was a feast for the senses. She pressed the hat more tightly and leaned back her head looking high into the tops of the masts. The sun flickered as the sheets billowed now and then and the pennants looked impossibly high for any mortal man to have placed them so close to the clouds. As the ship swayed the angle was dizzying and she closed her eyes slowly bringing her chin level. This was a life she could learn, full of feeling and new experiences. Jenny smiled and looked to the lads again to see what they would gain next from the Ship's most able Master.

[Dorian Lasseter]

6 August, 1704

Aboard the Lucy

Seven Bells of the Forenoon Watch

The Lucy had spent the last two hours or so sailing with all normal sails set. The crew had worked in good spirits and Dorian wondered if they too had been happy to quit the island of Martinique. The dozen less one Spanish sailors that had been berthed in the hold had been checked on by the Captain and between Maurice Roche and Charlie Marsh, good conversation was had, needs were met and once they had gotten into deep water, Charlie had served light fare to them. He was his usual grouchy self, but it appeared he enjoyed the praise for the food he got from those men, as if they were dining in the kings hall. It made Captain Lasseter wonder about the condition they had on Le Vedette. However it was not his concern as it was not his ship and these men were now in his care. Already it appeared they were being treated better, three of them soon after had the strength to make their way on deck without assistance.

The breeze had gotten stronger, allowing a speed of nine knots to be achieved when checked at six bells. In one more turn of the glass it would be noon and the backstaff would be brought forth for the mid day sighting to work out their position. Martinique was still large in their wake, but much detail was gone. Dorian had found himself in several areas on the ship in this short time they had left port, from the hold to the quarterdeck and the wardroom and back. He had watched the Navarra and Watch Dog in his glass several times, seeing how well they were sailing in his wake. He had consulted charts and wrote notations from the markings of the log and traverse board. All the while he had a shadow in a green hat. His last trip to the wardroom took him to the cabinet where the navigation instruments were kept. He removed the backstaff and took it purposefully on deck to where the Ship’s Master stood.

“Mister Whittin’ferd… Care you to show the yonkers how ta shoot the midday position? Further their education in th’ navigation o’ ships?”

Young Liam Rowan heard the Captain and leapt up, ran over to the other boys and told them what the Captain had said. All four bustled over and stood at attention as best they could to see what the Ship’s Master would do.

Edited April 15, 2009 by Dorian Lasseter

[William Brand]

August 6, 1704 - The Watch Dog

Between seven and eight bells of the Forenoon Watch

With the approach of noon, William set about to complete another piece of unfinished business. He called Jim Warren, and he, Jacob Badger, each in turn on down until all were called to assemble before the mast at the sounding of the next bell.

While men and women of the Starboard watch slowly drifted into the daylight, William chanced to speak with Durand. For all of his strength of carriage, the man looked a little green. William asked after his health, wondering if the limit of one eye added to the man's obvious distemper with every sway of the 'Dog. Durand only grumbled and accepted a glass of Tudor's offered tea gratefully. Tudor gave William the smallest of reproving glances, as if to say, "Someone favors my tea, you barbarian". William narrowed his eyes at the cheeky steward, shaking his head a little as she passed.

"Lazarus has planned a naples bisket and gurnets cooked with white wine for the Ward Room tonight, sah." She said this, almost in passing as she went down the companionway, as if such fare were served aboard daily.

"Then let night come." William said appreciatively as he and Jim exchanged a nod. Durand did not look properly enthused about the news, but despite this William him and told Jim to have every Master and the ship's doctor present for supper.

[Silkie McDonough]

Murin McDonough sat on deck in the shade of the longboat where she hopped she was unnoticed. Since her release she had managed to avoid conversation. When she emerged from her "prison" the crew was above board setting sail. The few men below deck were Spaniards who were just as surprised to see the disheveled woman in the berth digging for her belongings, as she was to see so many new, and injured, men. She kept her eyes diverted and took great care to not expose herself to the strangers that she felt starring as she dressed. When she headed to the galley she kept her eyes covered against the brightness of the day as an excuse to avoid any eye contact. Only Nathan Bly seemed to take note of her passing through the ranks. What he said was lost in the wind but his tone dripped venom. In the galley, surprised to see Treasure serving, she feared that she would have to speak to the ladies but the Spanish kept them busy. She smiled as they served her then scurried to the far side of the room to eat quickly. When she had returned her dish the ladies were not to be seen. Now she sat pretending to snooze. Her mind would not let her sleep, she thought of her unfinished work left in the surgery, and Luigi in that same room who had lost a finger defending her. The officers did not leave her behind, would she be the better for it? She adjusted her position once more ...no one would believe that she was asleep. In her mind she ran through the happenings and friendships from the past week, Miss Genevieve Ashcomb, Alder Wenge, Captain John Sterling ...none of them on this ship. She felt very alone amongst so many people.

Edited April 15, 2009 by Silkie McDonough

[Dorian Lasseter]

6 August 1704

The Lucy

First Bell of the Afternoon watch

At the change of the watch, Preston had taken the sighting and showed the yonkers how it all worked. They watched in fascination and might have even learned some of what was taught. It took a half turn of the glass to finish the calculations and soon after they had discerned where the Lucy was on the vast ocean. So now they would change course, to a more Southerly bearing which would be maintained for several days. Those who just came on watch were fresh and the change in tack happened smartly. Dorian smiled from the holy ground and leisurely headed to the wardroom, leaving orders with the deck officers to report any sightings from the lookout to him. Once in his quarters, hat and coat were removed and again Miss Ashcombe had attended to him, placing both pieces of clothing in their proper places. He sat at the desk quietly for a moment before turning to the labours of captaincy. Ledgers were pulled from their niches, an inkpot opened, and a pen selected. Pages were rifled through and selected to be written upon. Dorian hummed a tune faintly as he began and occasionally stopped while he tried to recall the past events in order to properly record them. Once his memory recovered the information he picked up the tune where he had left off. Some of this he had no wish to recall, but to leave it in the dark past of the last couple of days, but once it was put to paper he would have the option to quit it from his memory. Once or twice he had written a passage and put down the pen until he could steady his nerves, as what he wrote caused him to be angry. As the emotion passed, his tune returned as did the pen to page. At one point he stopped and made to ask Miss Ashcombe if she would get him a glass of wine. As if she knew his wants, she had been standing close with just that, a freshly poured glass that she now placed on the desk.

“Thankee Miss Ashcombe…. Join me if you’d like…”

He pushed away from the work at hand and took up the glass, gesturing to the woman, giving his permission to pour a glass for herself.

Starboard Watch on Duty

[Red Cat Jenny]

Ward Room of The Lucy

Miss Ashcombe had trailed closely behind her employer wondering if she should have waited in one place at times for him to return from numerous short sojurns about his ship. More than twice he turned about unexpectedly, once nearly tripping over her as he reversed his step on the stairs from the hold. She began to wonder that it might not be long before he lost his patience for her novice in the position he had granted her so generously, and reprimanded her for so many missteps.

Instead Captain Lasseter took this as he seemed to take most things, in stride. An affectation he shared with Preston Wittingford that made apparent their ease in shifting responsibility for the ship and crew between them at times. She mused each would be comfortable with the others methods, though Pew tended to be rougher in his dealings. Perhaps that owed to the Captain requiring more decorum of himself at all times. Or that he was more than accustomed with the comonality of men of Pew's demeanor.

The invitation to join in a glass of spirits eased her feelings of awkwardness and she graciously accepted. As Jenny poured and the Captain went back to his humming she inquired after the tune. Dorian explained in short form the story behind the melody familiar to many men in his trade before returning to the ledger, the quill scratching in harmony with his. Jenny walked to the stern and watched the wake of the Lucy point out towards the following ships.

[William Brand]

August 6, 1704 - The Watch Dog

William watched the watches gathering on the weatherdecks, a pack of loyal and strange dogs mixed together. He wondered what they would do together in peace and war in the coming months, and seeing the Spanish wounded he was brought him to thoughts of his own. He excused himself to the surgery.

Maeve O'Treasaigh looked up from the business of changing Ajayi's bandages. "Captain Brand."

"Doctor." William returned, and the title so easily given gave Maeve pause. "How are our patients?" he asked, clapping a hand to the shoulder of a grinning, drowsy and partially intoxicated Luigi.

"Broken, but mending, Captain."

William watched her work and found it familiar. He turned a little toward the diminishing Martinique, but did not find a view of the island from his vantage point.

"Is something amiss, sir?" Briar inquired.

"No." William said, looking back again and smiling. He had been thinking of the doctor they had left behind, which led to thoughts of Van Zandt in prison. "It's nothing." He walked up to Joshua's bedside and was glad to see the man asleep, though his face was covered in beads of sweat.

"A fever." Maeva explained, as Briar passed her a cold cloth. "It will pass."

"Captain..." Briar began, and he gave her his attention. "Are all of your Spanish guests wounded?"

William made a mirthless little laugh in his throat and nodded. "Aye. When you are both able I will have you see to them in turn. I imagine those who would have died, have done so, but there are a great number of dressings to be seen to."

"May we have use of the rag bin, Captain?"

William nodded. Then he sat awhile watching Ajayi, who was watching him with those piercing, well traveled eyes. It was strange stuff to have Ajayi fix such a long an searching look. It reminded William of another time. He returned the man's look, understanding it for something that few men aboard would understand. Maeva and Briar both watched this interaction as they mopped the brow and arms of a feverish Wellings.

Then the exchange was interrupted as the cook came in at the passageway door. He bore a large bowl of soup, and it was utterly different than any other fare prepared that day. Owing to Ajayi's much abused teeth, Lazarus had taken care to make a soup of the softest meats and vegetables he could find in a soup that was more broth than substance. The two men exchanged the weathered, knowing smile that only two men left together on the open sea could understand. Ajayi was very grateful and thanked the cook in his own tongue.

As Lazarus went out William said, "You're a king among cooks, Mister Gage."

Lazarus smiled. "I'll be a Captain one day."

"I don't doubt it."

Then William went out into the day. He had kept the watches waiting. "Ahh...my apologies gentlemen...and ladies." He went up to the quarterdeck to see them better as he spoke. Then he was speaking about the matters of the past few days. He kept nothing from them as he narrated both adventures and misadventures of him and others who had seen much and known trials. He explained the parting of Tawny, the finding of Wellings, and the rescue of Ajayi. He also explained the presence of Durand, the wounded Spanish and the nearness of the Navarra. He informed them the journey they would have taken for their purposes was now a passage paid for by the Spanish. They cheered, groaned, smiled, frowned and exhibited all manner of appreciative and sympathetic sounds as he explained the goings on of the past, present and profitable future.

With all of this done he called for a Liar, but before nominations could be called for that purpose, he raised a hand remembering another matter altogether. "One more piece of business first." A quiet fell and a soberness, for Captain Brand's face had clouded with the threat of something serious. "Those who served aboard the Heron, tell me faithfully..."

...who was it that struck down Stoneburrows?"

The murmur that spread was palpable.

Between one and two bells of the Afternoon Watch

[Dorian Lasseter]

The Lucy

As the ink dried from the last passage he had written, Captain Lasseter finished his glass and placed it neatly on the desk and studied it. It was a fine piece of French craftsmanship, that of the glass blower. He watched as the slightest bit of wine slowly pooled in the bottom and considered a second glass for a moment, and then disregarded the notion, unless it was had with a meal such as dinner which had been already served to the crew. Not that Dorian was famished, as a point of fact he was undecided on food at the moment. He turned to pose a question to Miss Ashcombe, but held his tongue as he saw her looking out the stern and wondered for a moment if she was having second thoughts of coming aboard. She turned slightly and the smile she wore on here face told him otherwise. Lasseter turned back to his ledger with a smile as well, wrote one more line and cleaned the pen, capped the inkpot and waited the briefest of time before shutting the book and placing it in its niche solidly. He drummed his fingers on the desk a couple times before deciding what his next point of the ‘business of captaincy’ was to be. He thought to order his Steward to fetch dinner for them and Master Whitingford, but instead made it a question as he stood and pulled out the chart of the area and spread it on the wardroom table.

“I wonder where Preston is? It’s not like him to miss a meal… Would you be so kind to see if the cook has prepared our dinner?”

He smiled at her as he spoke before heading to the desk and withdrawing his chart compass and ruler, and taking up the last notation from the traverse board and laying it all out in the unrolled chart

Starboard Watch on Duty

Two Bells of the Afternoon Watch

[William Brand]

August 6, 1704 - The Watch Dog

No one in the company could say what had happened to Captain Stoneburrows at the end. The Heron had been a wreck, owing to a lucky hit from the Watch Dog. Men and boys had been scattered about the deck among the splinters and the wreckage. Many dead. Many wounded.

Of those men who had come from the Heron, including Blikenderfer, Cobus, Hutchins, Jones, Larke, Lazenby, O'Connor and Saltash, none could rightly say who could have done the deed. Perhaps they knew and wished not to say. Perhaps it was one of them. It could be anyone of them, even Joshua Wellings who lay in fever.

Several marines of the frigate stood together talking. Then, Eric Franklin came forward. "Sah. There were marines of the 'Dog on the Heron."

"Aye." William agreed.

"Well, sah...O'hara was with Stoneburrows when Cap'n Lasseter accepted his sword." This revelation received mixed looks from the men formally of the Heron.

"O'hara."

"Aye, sah. He was holding Stoneburrows."

"Thank you gentlemen." Eric returned to his place among the marines, and with this business done, William called for a Liar. Several men shouted the name Manus Hingerty at once. Manus was obviously not amused by this, which brought a wave of laughs and long 'ooooooo's' as he shot everyone an evil look. "Choose another." William said, trying not to smile a little. Even Manus smiled when Patrick gave him a little shove. Several names were called, and a few men looked about. Some eyes fell on a shrinking Murin. Others on Robert Hollis, who was ever telling tales of Brand and others that surely bordered on lies. Hollis shrugged and seemed to find this more amusing than Hingerty.

"Nathan Bly!"

The company turned to Owen Monahan, who was grinning wickedly at a Nathan. Nathan's face was turning a deep red and might be purple if it didn't stop soon. Nathan glared about as his name seemed to take hold in everyone's mind. Another cry of 'Nathan Bly!' went up. And then another. And then another. it crossed the deck like a wave until Nathen was indeed purple. He glared in the direction of Murin as if to say, "It should be you".

William, satisfied that the crew had spoken, pronounced Nathan the Lair. Nathan took this badly.

[Red Cat Jenny]

It seemed the level of activity on deck would continue below it as the Captain continued to make notes and retrieved several implements and a very large scrolled chart from it's compartment in the desk.

"Shall I send word from you if I come upon Mr. Pew Sir?"

"Thank you yes"

She curtsied exited and did find Mr. Pew focused on all things beyond the ship which could be made out between the naked eye and his spyglass. He shifted occasionally, sometimes re checking himself by shading his eyes and comparing the naked vista with its magnified version. Finally she cleared her throat and he answered without breaking his inspection of the following ships and those few vessels which surrounded them.

"What is it Ash?"

"Sir, Captain Lasseter wishes you in the Ward Room and asked that I seek you out on the way to bring your suppers. " She paused as he replied, folding the glass and placing it on his person. Then shortly returned to find them poring over the chart. Captain Lasseter held his half filled glass in one hand and pointed to one location in a sweeping motion as they discussed guiding the three vessels. She placed the dishes and went about fetching up more wine and a glass for Preston. Then stood by while they finished ther calculations.

[William Brand]

August 6, 1704 - Aboard the Lucy

"I think he's a just and fair man." Bill Flint said, then nudged Robert Jameson. Robert looked up from a book he was desperately trying to understand.

"What...? Yes...fair." He agreed, then added. "Beautiful really." A quiet settled in the crowded berth, shortly followed by an explosion of snorts, chortles, guffaws and not a few surprised faces.

"You think so?" Flint asked, incredulous.

"Well...yes."

"I'm moving my hammock."

"What...?" Robert said, embarrassed and confused in equal parts as the room's volume rose a second time.

"He does 'ave a good turned ankle, " Nicholas said with mock gushing. This pushed the group even further.

"He!? What?" Robert was now a full shade darker than before.

"We 're discussing the Ship's Master, ya dolt." Flint nudged Robert hard enough a second time to upset him from the overturned bucket upon which he sat. "To what beeeauuuty were you referring."

"Nevermind." Robert said, not enjoying the laugh they all had by him.

[Pew]

Aboard the Lucy, the wardroom

Preston drank heartily from his glass and asked to have it refilled.

"Dorian, what are our plans?" Preston knew their immediate destination was Trinidad, but was there a purpose other than to deliver the merchantman following them? The ship's master cleared his throat to speak again but found it was caught up with the same iron taste that had plagued him lately. He took a sip from his glass and smirked heavily to wash the two down. Dorian noticed, but smiled.

"Not of yer vintage Preston?"

"Hardly. 'Tis wet and warming, vintage be damned." Preston chuckled, "So now Captain, wot now of Trinidad, Captain Brand 'ave 's in business there?"

[Black Syren]

Pausing to stretch she jumped with surprise and turned quickly to face Mr. Gage who asked her to take a few trays to the surgery. He gestured to where Moira had been setting them up, then went to nod her acceptance of the task but Mr. Gage had already moved on. Huffing a breath out she placed her knife upon the table and reached for the linen towel to wipe her hands clean then replaced the towel before walking quickly to Moira’s side. Hefting the trays she had to catch her balance as the Dog pitched and nodding to Moira who had helped her keep from dropping the first tray she quickly moved through the door into the passage and across it’s width to the surgery. Entering the open door she settled the tray upon the table used for surgery then moved back for the next tray. Making several trips she finally managed to bring the trays safely into the surgery and smiled at Maeve and Briar as they tirelessly worked. “I have brought lunch. Mr. Gage thought ya’ll might be hungry by now.” As both women smiled and nodded she moved to Luigi’s side, and winked as he smiled at her. “You are not giving these lovely ladies a difficult time are you?” she teased him. He flushed with color but shook his head, the medicine making him seem almost drunk. “Good. You listen to them and get better.” She moved over to Ajayi who was awake and alert, his eyes dark and fathomless. It was her turn to flush as he studied her and she stood there for a moment then softly said “Welcome back. We were worried for you.” She surprised him by leaning over to tuck his blankets about him then squeezed his arm above his hand. Then she fled back to the galley only to have Moira tell her she was to take a break. She was pushed back out the door to the weatherdecks and cool black eyes once more slid over her assessingly. Chin came up and eyes went stormy as she glared back causing the injured Antonio to grin slowly. Tossing her braid over her shoulder she moved past the spainards and went to check on Argus very aware that many sets of dark eyes tracked her progress. Mayhaps they found it unusual that a woman was on board…several in fact. Well they would just have to get used to such, especially if they were to sail on the Dog.

Owen greeted her and she nodded to him asking him how Argus fared and he said that there had been no change. Sighing heavily she crept to the small bed and saw Argus twitch his tail, amber eyes watching her approach before he whined low in his throat. ‘I know fella. It hurts does it not?” she stroked Argus’s face and rubbed his ear ‘You must get better sweeting..” She stayed till Argus fell asleep then Owen chased her off telling her Argus would be fine to go and rest herself. She wanted to argue but held her tongue and rose bumping into Alan and giving him a smile moved quickly to the rail on the larboard side, watching the waves as they came and went.

[William Brand]

"I see the Cap'n has you working." Alan said as he leaned on the shared rail. "Work an' all work for a day or two."

Treasure nodded. Nathan went past then, propelled forward by a few men of the watch. They jeered him a little and he went as a prisoner to his duty, sulky and outwardly contemptible. Alan shook his head to watch him go, then he tried to start the conversation anew. "Mister Franklin will have the choosing of new marines soon."

"Oh?" she returned, genuinely interested.

"Aye. I think that man, Hutchins. An'...Jones. Good shots both, to hear tell of it." Again, she agreed. "What think you of Owens?"

[Black Syren]

She tapped her nails upon the rail completely absorbed in her own thoughts though not so much that she could deny watching Nathan as he moved sulkily about his duties. She brushed a lock of hair from her face and as Alan asked her what she thought of Owens she startled and eyes widening glanced askance at him. "I am sorry..did you just ask my thoughts on Owen?" As Alan slowly nodded and grinned seeing he had her full attention he leaned lower on the rail.

Cautiously glancing about she spotted Antonio observing them and turned her back to him so that she faced alan her hip leaning against the rail and crossed her arms over her chest. "Aye. I did ask yer thoughts on Owen."

Pulling her lower lip through her teeth she chewed upon it and fidgeted nervously "Why would you ask me such?" His warm gaze was astute and she looked to the water then back to him "He is caring for Argus so I am grateful for it. But I will never forget him getting me into trouble with Mr. Franklin. He seems to like to cause mischief and I have no use for it." She gave a shrug and blew a sharp breath "But I am still grateful for what he has done." She arched a brow as if silently asking if her response had enlightened him.

A rapid burst of spanish behind her had her frowning and trying to follow the rapid conversation but Alan drew her attention as heshook his head at her. "A bland answer if I e'er heard one. 'Owever I think you were right, but he seems changed. As do you."

[William Brand]

A silence followed for a time. Conversations at sea were like that when coming and going from a place. People watched the sea more than speaking, without a care for filling pauses. When Alan did speak again it was only to say, "Small ship."

"I don't like Owen," she said again, recognizing a whole sermon in the statement. However close she might be to Owen in feet and yards, he was never going to be one of her favorites.

"Weeeeell...Owen 's made no secret that 'e wants to be a marine."

Treasure scoffed at this.

"Which one is Owen again?" said a man at her elbow. It was the affable, but incorrigible gossip, Hollis.

[Black Syren]

Treasure shot a warning glare at Alan before smiling cooly at Hollis "Hollis, you startled me. And yes indeed it is a small ship." She debated not telling Hollis but could see no way out and she was never one to lie. "Owen is one of the gentl'men taking care of Argus at the moment. " She could hear the spainards talking, some weak laughter and she went to see what might have amused them but Hollis re-drew her gaze.

"If 'e is taking care of Argus why do ye not like 'im? "

"We just have issues and those issues will be worked out tween us and that is that. Alan should not have brought it up at all." It was rare but when it happened it was amusing to see for her face was slowly flushing with her anger at the way the conversation had turned. Blue green eyes snapped fire and her voice was downright cold as she spoke to both. Alan tried to hide his amusement, Hollis appeared startled and Treasure was stuck between the pair of them seething inwardly. She shot a lethal glare at Alan her eyes demanding he fix the mess he had wrought for if he had not asked she would have went to her grave never telling a soul. Now Hollis was here and though he meant well he carried gossip worse than a woman and he would tell Owen and then she and Owen would have words and she had no wish to have words with anyone nor make the situation worse. Owen did not care for her, nor she of him. However she was grateful that he was caring for Argus. What a quandry.

[William Brand]

"Come, Hollis." Alan took Robert by the shoulder and backed away slowly. "Dark skies. Threatening seas." He was grinning as he turned the man away.

[Black Syren]

She gave him a positively feral look and wished she had something at hand to hurl at them both as they chuckled and moved off leaving her once again alone at the rail. Spinning about she gripped the rail with both hands and studied the sea till she became aware of another prescence. Looking up she found Antonio "Che cosa volete? What do you want?" He lifted his chin with arrogance as he struggled to deipher her words though by her tone and the look given it had not been difficult to do so.

"Le deseo. charla de .to. I wish...to talk to you." He frowned as he sought to make her understand. "¿Por qué está usted en esta nave? Why are you on this ship?" He saw her frown and she shook her head.

"I do not know what you have said. I have to get back to work." Seeing he did not understand her she spoke slowly in Italian "Devo andare indietro lavorare. I must go back to work" She gestured as if she were working and turned and moved across the deck to hide at the starboard rail and felt his eyes upon her the whole way. Growling low in her throat she sunk down in a nearby coil of rope and debated her suddenly foul mood.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Wardroom of the Lucy

Dorian studied Preston a moment before answering. He knew the man was yet to fully recover from his sickness.

“Well, there were some deeds in th goods we got from ‘Lady' Ilex… Property on Trinidad, so we was headed there an’ now as a fortunate addition we be guardin’ the Spanish ta its port, Get paid fer goin’ where we were a’ready headed… Wot we do from there, heaven knows… mebee along th’ way we’ll have issue an’ tow another prize in ta port.”

Dorian turned back to his meal, spreading some cream butter on a piece of bread. All were no more than a day old and still fresh. A pleasure that would not last long in the tropical region they were in and he savoured every bite along with the fresh meal. After taking another drink of the wine, some mirth was seen in his eyes.

“So… if th’ wine is not to yer likin’ we c’n break out some rum r’ whiskey ta quench yer delicate pallet if you’d like…”

Edited April 19, 2009 by Dorian Lasseter

[William Brand]

August 6, 1704 - Aboard the Watch Dog

William, Durand and Jim all made their way forward together. They did this for no particular reason, but as William went forward, so did they. Once at the bow they watched the Navarra turning upon the wind a little as the Lucy had done not long before. William took out his glass and it was passed between the three, each watching the Spanish merchantmen in turn.

"They've a decent bosun." Jim remarked, squinting through the glass.

"Or good, honest seamen." William returned.

Durand said nothing.

They all watched the Navarra make good use of a prevailing wind, and as she had done, the Watch Dog was soon turned in her course. William told Jacob to be mindful, as the Spanish might be watching back. William felt that they should not be shown less able than their neighbors. Jacob simply made a derisive snorting sound as if to say 'we're better by half'.

[Dorian Lasseter]

The Lucy

The Lucy was sailing along swiftly in the fine wind on a near cloudless afternoon. Mister Christie was on the tiller as Mister Tucker stood before him at the break of the quarterdeck, looking off at the horizon in several different directions. Jerrod Styles found himself smiling in the crow’s nest now and again, happy to be out to sea. He’d had occasion to call to the deck of a sail on the horizon, but every one had stayed away or completely disappeared not long after being sighted. There were still several smaller boats near to them, but none of a size to cause issue. Fishing boats mostly, with no more than a crew of six aboard, all intent on making a living with their nets. Those men on deck tried to find shade while they waited to tend lines and sails, several conversed in an odd way, as up to three different languages were spoken and translated among them. The strangest was with those conversing with John Black and Adam. Moreso, Adam was talking ‘through’ John, since John was the only man aboard who could understand the gestures made by Adam the mute. All in all, things were calm and in good order. Mister Aretineson remained quiet as he wiped down the breech of gun number 6, named Revanche. He smiled an almost wicked smile as the gun shined brightly in the early afternoon sun.

[Pew]

Aboard the Lucy, the Wardroom

"Wine 's fine," Preston snickered at his own rhyme. "Rum 'ould be..." Preston thought and struggled to find something to rhyme again.

Dorian laughed. "Not 's goode 's whiskey?"

Preston furrowed his brow, but broke into a wide smile.

"Goode t' 'ave ye back Cap'n"

[Dorian Lasseter]

“Aye Preston… good ta be back at sea… Don’t think I coulda stomached another hour on ‘at island.”

The Captain rubbed his face, becoming almost weary just at the thought of the happenings on Martinique. He chuckled and cast those thoughts away, like so much pipe-smoke on the wind. Looking at his second in command and Steward, Dorian smiled and sat back from the table.

“Tis a fine day ta be sailin’ th’ Carib… Long as th’ breeze stays up an’ those we would call our enemies find on’y our wake, I call this life a fortunate one. Ain’t nothin’ better’n a stout ship under ya an’ full sails flyin’…”

Dorian drained his glass and placed it on the table, feeling all the more wealthy for the ship and crew under his command.

[Pew]

"Aye," Preston simply replied. He wanted to add 'and she's a fine ship,' or 'best o' crews under the sun 'ere', but only managed another "Aye" before he reached for the bottle and refilled their cups. Preston leaned back in his chair and thought of the previous evening spent with young Saal.

Quiet for a moment, Preston took on a more serious tone. "'Ave ye 'eard from yer family lately Dorian?"