The Watch Dog

[William Brand]

August 2, 1704 - Fort Royal Prison

William added Benjamin Matthias Quigley to the line of recruits. The three other men which shared Benjamin's cell stepped forward and offered their services. William said nothing to this, he simply regarded them silently, for two of these were former seamen of the Heron. Logan Christie, who had served as a coxswain aboard the cutter and Charlie Marsh, who had been her cook.

"Gentlemen." William said, but nothing followed. Charlie Marsh tried to make eye contact with William, but failed, fidgeting nervously with his hands. Logan Christie just stood stock straight and the look on his face was enough to give William pause. He stood, not as a man in prison, but as a man under simple consideration standing dockside. William thought of several questions to ask the man in that moment, but asked none. There was something in the one man's nervousness and he other man's pragmatism that made questions unnecessary. In the end he took the two former sailors from the Heron along with the third cellmate, Mark Wilson.

He called for a lantern afterwards and he, Pascal and the Lieutenant went down to the midnight cells. The air there was not pleasant. Far from being cool, as William had expected it to be, it was instead...stale. The rising air that had greeted them on the stairs was absent here. Nothing moved, but for some few flying insects. The only light in the place come from some narrow shafts spaced out along the ceiling. Far from lighting the corridor, they simply served to accent the darkness.

As William's eyes adjusted to the gloom he could see that some of the prisoners were already gathered at the cell doors, having heard much of the conversation from above. William recognized many of them as captives from the Maastricht and Heron, but he showed no outward sign of recognition until his eyes fell on Meeuwsen Abel den Oven, former Captain of the Maastricht. He tried not to smile and failed.

"Kapitien." said a familiar voice to his right, and William turned to see Arts Van Zandt standing at the edge of a large cell walled about entirely by bars. Almost all of the cells along the corridor's right side were open in this fashion, fixed with bars only and doors of the same make. Van Zandt looked genuinely cordial, almost happy to see him, so William stepped aside to ask after him and the wounded men who had come from the two ships.

"Ve lost some two men zince ve come ashore...und vill likely lose a t'ird." Van Zandt said simply.

William hated seeing a Doctor in this place, especially as a captive. There was something perverse about a man of Van Zandt's ilk being in a place like this, so William offered to take him out yet again, "Come out of this place, Doctor. I am currently without a surgeon aboard the 'Dog and even the Heron has need of you."

Van Zandt shook his head. "You know I cannot, Kapitien. I have a vife, children und estates in de Gelderland." he explained, and with a nod towards the wounded men, he reminded William that he had a duty to the men of the Heron, though she be lost. William simply nodded. Then as before, he offered to take any man who would willing leave this place and join the crews of the Watch Dog or Heron.

The look on Den Oven's face was murderous.

Five bells of the Forenoon Watch

~Larboard Watches on Duty~

[Red Cat Jenny]

Aboard The Watch Dog

Jenny forgot her plight for a short time as she became absorbed in the Watch Dog. The sun that warmed her face brought the smell of pitch from the deck and tossed it about with the other smells of paint, cooking and salt air. The offshore breeze trifled with strands of hair not tucked into the hasty braid Murin had fashioned for her. As they walked Silkie spoke pointing out this and that, adding small stories about some which occurred to her along the way. Jenny understood some things, but other terms were lost upon a lack of knowledge she cared not to make apparent. All around them the decks and passageways bustled with crew either repairing, or caring for their home. Some talked easily holding mugs of coffee, some passed by with haste, determination and tools or supplies. Still others laughed as they headed side by side down a passageway sharing a joke or ribald telling of their night ashore. All acknowledged the woman she walked with. Occasionally stopping for a word or question , others with simply a smile. Some scuffle appeared to erupt and as crew rushed past and below, Murin whisked her away via the galley. Once again above, she recognised a few faces from the tavern in the distance. Most stared in curiosity at Miss Ashcombe, but as Murin offered no information or introductions, they simply smiled and nodded without question. Jenny began to feel at ease, even laughing as the ships cat shot between her feet in pursuit of a large bug clearly at advantage. But the next group of crew they passed spoke of visitors. Their words brought Jenny's heart to her throat and her hands felt cold as they had the day of young Master DeMofras murder. Jenny looked frequently over the side of the ship and felt her panic rise each time a longboat neared the Watch Dog, though she understood the visitors were not yet due. She spoke her concern to her guide in hushed and trembling tones. All the calm of the past half hour having dropped away as fear fell like a curtain over her thoughts. Murin looked across the rail, pursed her lips and said she had an idea of where to tuck the gerl away and assuring she'd be fine for the moment, headed down the deck. Jenny placed a hand on the soft wood of the ship's rail and stood feeling very alone amongst so many, wishing to be one of the gulls that soared easily around the Cul De Sac and away from any danger.

[Black Syren]

Treasure still aloft was enjoying the warmth of the sun, in fact her face was tilted to it as she stretched and the wind toyed with hair that had slipped free of the braid to whip about her face. Brushing a strand from her lips she wiggled a bit and groaned for her posterior was a wee bit numb then peered down below to the decks. She was excited she was to go ashore again soon and then she could search for her cross, purchase new foodstuffs for Argus and do whatever she wished with her day or evening. The call of the gulls above her head had her shooing the birds away with a shudder. She had no wish to be made a mess of by the dirty things, keeping a wary eye on the biggest of the lot who settled near to her she gritted her teeth “Aye well as long as ye stay over there!” she muttered between clenched teeth.

The gull merely tilted his head fixing a beady black gaze upon her and she resumed looking over the rail below. Argus was sitting next to a group of men, tongue lolling tail wagging and seeming content. At least till he caught sight of the women, at that point he rose and trotted over and came to a stop sitting before them and then dropping to the deck and rolling over presenting his belly for a rub. A hand was clapped over her mouth to hide her laughter at his antics “Big Ham.” She muttered fondly.

As Murin and Jenny stopped Argus woofed lowly tail again thumping the decks front paws waving at the women as if bidding them to hurry.

A ruffle of feathers had her looking back at the bird suspiciously but he had not moved other than to keep eyeing her and shaking his feathers. A masculine laugh below had her looking down and seeing Alan standing nearly right beneath her she grinned wickedly. The small flask that she used for water in the nest was slowly inched from a pocket and she nibbled at her lip trying to not laugh. She would have to move quick for this to work right.

Leaning over and making sure he was still standing there she opened the flask and tipped it over having to time the rocking of the ship just so. Eventually the water landed though not on his head as she had wanted but his back and shoulder. Quickly corking the cap on she shooed the gull into noisy flight and had to sit back to hide her laughter. The shout and cursing below had her holding her sides, face red and tears falling from merriment.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Ville du St. Louis, Martinique

Christopher Tucker had a fine time ashore. He was soon to be heading back to the Heron, back to duties on the ship. He’d spent a goodly amount of specie on many a sundry thing and woman. As the tower clock struck eleven times, he began to pack up his things faster. It was a brisk walk to the wharf and then the trip over in one of the boats and he needed to be away in less than a quarter of an hour to make it. He was sure either Captain Lasseter or Nigel the Cox’n would have much to tell him before he took his post when he got there, so he hoped he might get back early. ‘Lucky Tuck’ got his seabag ready, slung it over his shoulder and looked about the room. He had everything he came ashore with, and more. He began to hum a lively tune from the evening before and a smile crossed his face as he remembered a fine lass he danced with. As he left the tavern his pace quickened, finding his way through the streets and was soon within sight of the wharf. Already several of the Heron’s crew stood about near a landing trading stories of the last evenings adventures.

[William Brand]

August 2, 1704 - Fort Royal Prison

The recruiting of prisoners from Fort Royal continued with few interchanges. William had thought to take only another third of those men alloted to him, that he might return on the morrow for the remainder, but so many prisoners of the Maastricht and Heron wanted to return to duty. This pleased William, but it also caused him some unease. He had wondered several times if these men were swelling the ranks in order to retake their ships at some future date, but he tried to set this suspicion aside as he questioned every man who came forward.

The first two to join from the midnight cells were John O'Conner and Thomas Ried, Irishmen both. They were separated in age by almost seven years and separated in height by almost half a foot, but they were an amiable pair. Indeed, they had a brotherly quality about them, the older sailor always speaking for the younger man.

These two were followed by Joshua Wellings, Simon Larke and Isaac Lazenby, English sailors out of Colonies. Unlike John and Thomas, the youngest of these three did most of the talking. Isaac spoke with an articulation that belied education and it was learned that he had been a writer and poet on a small scale in his former life. He was a very small man, but as wiry as any sailor William had ever seen. At four feet eleven inches, even John O'Conner towered over him, but William could not ignore the man's experience as a seaman, so he took the three men aboard on Isaac's recommendation alone.

The next man to sign aboard was Valentine Duvale. He had only just begun to raise his hand in token of his wish to join, when three brutish Dutchmen sharing the same cell assaulted him physically and verbally. Fists flew upon the lad with such speed and surprise that Valentine went down at once, the men about him serving him afterwards with kicks and hard language. Lieutenant Bedeau, Pascal and William were powerless to save the man at first, for the beating happened quickly while they were delayed at the door. Valentine's rescue was precipitated by Joseph Aretineson, the former Master Gunner of the Maastricht. Joseph leapt against the bars of the adjoining cells and drove his foot between them and against one of the attacker's knees . The men went down in howls, toppling a second attacker as he fell. This saved Valentine from any further abuse as the Lieutenant drove the third man back with the butt of his musket. Valentine was dragged unconscious from the cell by William and Pascal as Lieutenant Bedeau worked the lock once more. Then, while Pascal and the Lieutenant saw to the beaten man, William went to stand before Joseph Aretineson. William noted that Joseph's sudden rescue of the Dutchman had curried no favor among his own cellmates. "Come out of there, man. You'll find better company with us."

Joseph had not meant for his actions to demonstrate loyalty or purpose. He had simply reacted to a situation he deemed unfair. Now, looking about at some of the men who shared his imprisonment he seemed to come to a silent decision. Without a word he stepped forward and the Lieutenant let him out. As he he was about to close the door again, Cornelius Blikenderfer stepped through the open door and Bedeau gave William a questioning look. William simply returned a small nod and the English Gunner and Dutch Seaman joined the gathering at the foot of the stairs.

In the end, it was not William's words of persuasion which won the most men, but the casual way in which he welcomed so many of his former prisoners back again. When he was done, some twenty men of the midnight cells had lined up to join those men above. To the ranks he added Henry Jones, Matthew Hutchins and Harry Saltash of the Heron, and from the Maastricht he added Schuyler Janszoon, Tobias Vandevender, William DeWitt, Maxamillain DeRuyter, Caleb Millett, John Van Baerle and Abel Fenner. No other prisoner below would join them. Try as he might, William could persuade no more. Even Bartel Raymer would not leave the place, for his patriotism would not allow it.

William soberly saluted the former First Mate of the Maastricht, but did not so much as look at the former Captain. He simply marched the recruits up into the waiting daylight to join the others.

Between Six and seven bells of the Forenoon Watch

~Larboard Watches on Duty~

[Pew]

The men stood on the quarterdeck. One of them removed their cap and held it behind his back. Another stood quietly and blotted the blood streaming from his lip. And still another had some swelling around his left eye beginning to protrude. The fourth man did not raise his head as Eric tore into the men.

"DAMN YOUR EYES!!" he bellowed. "BACK T' TH' PRISON WIT' YOU ALL!!"

"Sah, I..." began one of the men. Eric cut him a scowl that would have sent the ferryman back across the river Styx, emptyhanded.

Eric paced in front of the men, "Our Captain 's ashore refilling our ranks as we speak. Shall he r'place yer hides 's well? Many a man 'ould r'port aboard our crew."

Each man shook their head slowly.

"You," he pointed to the bleeder, "What is your name?"

"Francis Roundtree, sah."

"You?" Eric pointed to the man without his cap.

"James Sandefur, Francis 's me brotha sah"

"For fek's sake. Brothers?"

"Aye sah," they both replied with a wry grin.

"And brawlers t' boot." Eric moved to in front of the man with the black eye. "You?"

"David Leigh, sah."

Then to the last man, "You?"

"Brenton Coles."

"Mister Coles, Mister Leigh, you shall report to Mister Lasseter on the Heron," Eric pointed the short distance to the cutter. "You two," he pointed to the brothers, " shall remain aboard here, presently. UNDERSTOOD?"

The men nodded.

"Luc here will keep an eye 'n you 'til th' Captain shall r'turn. An'oer fisticuffs an' ye'll see th' night an' ano'er 'n th'cable tier. Misters Standiford, r'port t' Mister Hingerty 'n th' bow. You two go b'low an' secure y' things."

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aboard the Heron

The day was a fine day after a storm. The humidity was up, but it was burning off as the day progressed. Captain Lasseter had spent the morning on deck, keeping company with those of his crew aboard. As noontime approached many of the crew were given time to gather their gear for their shoreleave. Even the Captain was looking forward to another tip ashore, hoping to complete the errands he had abandoned during the storm the day before. As he was talking to young Patrick Godfrey, asking what he planned to do ashore, his attention was drawn to the Watch Dog. There were shouts and some other movements on deck. Dorian grabbed up the ships spyglass and looked as others on deck grew silent and strained their eyes looking as well. The Captain watched as several men were brought up onto the quarterdeck and Mister Franklin berated them, he pointed towards the Heron once or twice, among other locations, possibly on the frigate and the shore. Even though sound carried across the water, Dorian did not catch and full words, but he guessed at some of them. As he looked through the glass, things settled. Two of the men headed below, the other two moved forward, under the eye of the big Russian fellow, Luc. Dorian lowered the glass and tapped it on the rail.

“Well gennlemen… I may be delayed on m’trip ashore… No worries fer you lads… Couple minutes now an’ yer off ta revelry… “

The conversations picked up around the Captain of the Heron again and many actually watched the sandglass, waiting for the time to head ashore.

[Silkie McDonough]

Aboard The Watch Dog

“Mister Franklin!” Miss McDonough had been waiting for him. He turned to the woman who had called him; the look on his face made clear that the man was not in the best of moods after the altercation between the new recruits. He signaled her to come up to the quarter deck. “Mister Franklin sah, begin yer parrdin buot ders rumor uv a few mearchants an …” she stumbeled over the word, “ af-flu-nt towns paple ta bae cumin aboard dis affer noon. Miss Ashcomb es near frantic bout dem wot ter’comin board mayaps knowin er an er uncle. I was tinkin det we could ferry her or’t’d’Heron til der’gone. I nil tink she’ll bae able t’stay comfortably aboard d'Doag til dey are clear uv it. She’s in slops n’shirt n’wit my hat on er head none will bae able t’spot er goin wit dooz lads wot you er sendin or t’d’eron. Ken ya send er sah? Ask capin' Lasseter?”

[Alder]

Elbows had bent and flexed the eve past as each man slake his thirst with potions that swam in degrees of medicinally intoxicating scents. Ameliorate their ills or augment their pleasures, hands raised dizzyingly to usher the barkeep dispatch another round. Self-absorbed souls languished in somber reflection. Others took notice of varied features, divining the character that might flow from the man by the preference that flowed from his tankard. The observer and the observed exchanged breath in the haze of the tavern. With only remnants of conversations to relay the news of their ships, Robert and Alder intermittently cocked an ear to the boisterous exchange.

Mind calmed, save uncertain news of Mr. Pew, Alder’s glance became firmly tacked to the plaid skirts of a striking lass as she traipsed up the stairs. Robert’s elbow to his side, intended to inspire, had quite the contrary effect. Alder choked on his half swallowed rum, but smiled wholeheartedly at his friend as he elbowed him in reply.

“Anuther lass awaits our return, lad” Robert uncharacteristically teased of the figurehead that had absorbed their spirits as well as their time.

“Aye, she does at that Robert.” Alder mused at the animated nature of his friend and refocused his intent

“Tha Captain will wan tah inspect ‘er afore she holds fast 'iz vessel.” Robert shared the bawdy remark in hushed laughter. The two could not restrain their exuberance, laughing out loud, they reveling at the suggestive wit and emptied their drinks in anticipation of departure. Coins danced silently as they spun on the table in the din of the crowd. Robert’s arm crooked over Alder’s shoulder the two staggered toward the chandlery to complete a focal and final ornamentation for the figurehead.

There, amid an agglomeration of crates and trappings, as the sun rose high in the heavens and sweat burned the nights exuberance from their systems, the men toiled in anticipation of the Captain's arrival.

[William Brand]

August 2, 1704 - Villa de Corneille

The Villa de Corneille had been very quiet since the earliest hours of the day. It was not a true village of course, being comprised of so few buildings and even fewer families, but it had been called the Village of Crows ever since a strange blight of birds had descended upon the place just a few years previous. These birds had arrived with an eccentric fellow who had kept them as pets. They were in fact not crows at all, but African ravens, and these corvids had escaped into the wild until finding themselves quite comfortable at the farms which now bore their misrepresented, collective name. One of the ravens had died, but not before fathering a few additional young rapscallions which had bothered the locals for years afterwards. The only original of the two was still there and ofttimes seen in the area, or at the very least, heard. Of the two original birds, the remaining raven was the loudest and everyone referred to it as the Blasphème de Saint.

Saint Blasphemy.

In addition to being quite eccentric, the man which had owned the birds had been no lover of the Church and had discussed his hatred for all things sacred on a daily basis with his pets. As a consequence, one of the ravens had decided to take on the task, nay, the inheritance, even the very cause of her master. She would fly from rooftop to rooftop spouting what can only be described as the finest diatribe of foul language ever devised by man, or in this case, bird.

It was on this particular quiet morning that Blasphème de Saint found herself circling about one of the outbuildings. The sermon she had chosen for that particular morning touched on the subject of chastity and the Pope's male anatomy in particular. She was waxing quite eloquent, when she stopped all at once.

A man had entered the large, open yard of one of the more modest houses. He was rather a plain man, and even from a bird's perspective he was not very interesting. His features and bearing meant little to the cussing bird, but he carried a large, vicious looking weapon in one hand and the sun had caught upon it. Ravens, no matter their religious views, are easily distracted by shiny things. Much like pirates. This bird was no exception.

Tawny smiled at the bird and it was a genuine smile, even for Tawny. He had been most alarmed to hear someone on the lane, especially someone with such outrageous language and outspoken views regarding the Good Book. His French was poor to be sure, but even he could recognize profanity in several languages, so he had rushed to the nearest window expecting to find a drunkard screaming on the lawn, but when he saw the bird, he came out into the sparse sun and stood awhile watching it as it watched them.

"G' on." Tawny urged, anxious to see what revelations might usher forth from the unexpected blasphemer. The bird said nothing. "Don' min' me. Just butch'rin'." Tawny said as casually as any real market street butcher might have admitted. The bird said nothing. No matter how Tawny tried to coax it again to sermons it would not make a sound. Instead, it flew away and Tawny went back inside.

The Villa de Corneille was very quiet, as it had been since the earliest hours of the day. It would remain so. Only birds, and some would say ghosts, would be heard in the place thereafter.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Cul de Sac, Fort Royal

The sand ran out as several boats had come full of returning crew from shoreleave, to both the Watch Dog and Heron. ‘Lucky Tuck’s’ luck had held and he reported back to his ship with time to spare and had been briefed by the Captain and Bo’sun together. Nigel was in the first boat back to shore with a tired smile. Dorian surveyed the bay, watching the small boats skate across the water, retrieving and depositing humans and cargo on shore, and doing the same at the ships in the bay. Most of his crew made it back within the allotted time. One boat returned almost ten minutes into the watch with Harold Press and Robert Jameson aboard. As the boat approached Dorian noted that Press seemed quite agitated. He was wearing a scowl on his face and his fists were balled up. Harold would look about with quick movements, then stare into the bottom of the small craft. Jameson appeared to be trying to ignore the demeanor of Press by looking everywhere but at the man beside him. The boat came alongside and Dorian was waiting at the rail. Not with a cross look, but of one of inquiry. Jameson nearly leapt up the side of the Heron and knuckled his brow to the Captain.

“Sorry fer bein’ late, Sah! I was, we had, not ta blame him, Sah, but –“

Dorian held up his hand.

“Mister Jameson, wait for Mister Press before you continue. I will hear you both together.”

“Aye Sah…”

Robert stood and waited with a nervousness about him. Harold had climbed onto deck in that time and approached his Captain, knuckled his forelock and breathed a his through his teeth before he spoke.

“Aye… tis me ta blame for us bein late. I was… that is ta say…”

He lowered his voice as he looked around, hoping no one would hear him.

“I… I were robbed by a… by a woman, sah…”

Dorian lifted his chin slowly and lowered it just as slowly. He went to speak once and stopped. Putting his hand to his chin with one finger over his mouth he stood a moment longer. Harold went to speak more, but Dorian held up his hand.

“Apology accepted… let it not happen again. Stow yer gear and report fer duty.”

Both men saluted and were gone quickly. Mister Tucker looked at Captain Lasseter for a moment and finally spoke.

“Captain… Shouldn’t they have been put on report?”

Dorian looked at his Bo’sun and smiled.

“Mister Tucker, I think Harold has suffered enough with what has happened to him, and I believe Jameson lended a hand, no doubt Harold was harsh in his words when he was found out, probably made the lad swear to secrecy. No… no further punishment is needed.”

Tucker nodded and suppressed a grin.

“Aye, Sah.”

The Larboard Watch was all but ashore and the Starboard Watch about settled in. The day was half over and Dorian was getting restless to be ashore, having to play catch with what he hadn’t accomplished during the storm of the night before.

Just before the First Bell of the Afternoon Watch

2 August, 1704

[BriarRose Kildare]

BriarRose had slept later than usual. After checking in on Preston and getting him something to eat as well as another dose of medicine, she began to clean the rooms through out the chirgeon's house. As she swept, dusted and polished every thing she could, BriarRose hummed and sang to while away the time as she cleaned. Her voice was very soft and melodious as she carried on from one song to the next. Mandrake followed his new mistress from room to room watching her movements and every once in awhile jumping in to play with the rag she was using. BriarRose laughed at his antics as she continued to clean.

From a distance she could hear the church bells tolling the hour. Standing up and stretching, BriarRose looked about the room. She was very pleased with her work. The house smelled of lemon and beeswax. And everything seems to sparkle and shine.

"Well, I think we deserve a spot of tea. Don't you agree?" she asked Mandrake.

His big gold-green eyes blinked back at her as he answered her with a tiny "Meow"

Laughing she scooped him up in to her arms and went in to the kitchen to prepare tea and biscuits for her and Preston. Setting out a small saucer of milk for the kitten she stoked up the fire and put a kettle of water on to boil. As she prepared the tea and biscuits she also began to prepare the evenings dinner.

She was anxious for Maeve to return. BriarRose hoped that Maeve had found her passage on a ship. She wished now that she had not forgotten to ask Captain Lasseter when he had stayed for dinner. But she had been so caught up with his stories and the warm tone of his voice that she had forgotten. A knock at the front door interrupted her thoughts.

[Silkie McDonough]

Miss McDonough waited a moment as Mister Franklin pondered her request. “Aye, I will send her over with Coles and Leigh as you request.” He indicated the two who had just left his company, going to the map desk eh drew out paper, quill and ink, wrote a quick note, pounced it, blew it clean, folded it, addressed it to Captain Lasseter, pounced it once again and handed it to Miss McDonough. “Give this to Luc have him to take Miss Ashcombe over to the Heron with the others, have him present this to Captain Lasseter when he arrives on board.” He held out the letter and dismissed Miss McDonough.

Murin went quickly from the quarterdeck to Miss Ashcombe to give her the news. She pointed out Luc and bid the lass keep her hat and follow quickly.

Murin ran to the berth deck, grabbed her haversack and pistol, and then returned to the rail in time to catch the next boat to shore. As she settled into the boat she caught Jenny’s eye in another boat headed towards the Heron, waving she smiled what she hoped was a confident smile who still looked very unsettled.

Once ashore Murin made her way to the leather worker they had employed in the making of the frogs needed for the Uniforms she was working on. Next she mad her way to report the progress on the uniforms to the Master at Arms at the surgeons. Following the directions provided her she found her way easily.

[William Brand]

August 2, 1704

First Bell of the Afternoon Watch

Louis Morrell, Nathan Bly, Robert Elmer and Andrew Light had been given the quiet and irregular duty of manning the longboat ashore during the duties of the Starboard Watches. Having ferried the Larboard crews ashore for leave, the men had taken to trading rounds at draughts. The day was pleasant enough for shore duty and the four men had already settled into the boredom of the day when Captain Brand arrived with a surprising number of new recruits in new shirts, shoes and slops.

William Brand arrived in an attitude of pure business, ordering out the longboat and renting another to ferry over those recruits bound for the Heron. With the two boats he sent Stephen Hudless, George Cosset, Samuel Milling, Nicholas Trodd, Peter Norman, Charles Goddon, John Kingsman, William DeWitt, Logan Christie, Charlie Marsh, Thomas Ried, Schuyler Janszoon, Joseph Aretineson, Valentine Duvale, Roger Reeves, Caleb Millett and John Van Baerle, all bound for service aboard the faster vessel. Of these, Joseph Aretineson looked the most grateful to be assigned to the Cutter, not because he had ever served aboard her, but because he had once dined at table with Dorian Lasseter and he had found the man both companionable and capable as an officer.

With this accomplished, William and Pascal brought the remaining men down the docks to buy hammocks for them and those men already bound for the Heron.

~Starboard Watches on Duty~

[Black Syren]

She had been anticipating this moment for a while, and now that it was here she was more than excited. Argus danced about her legs as she leapt the final feet to the deck and scurried to gather her seabag and necessary items. She smiled at Alan as he helped her lower her seabag and then he and Ciaran lowered Argus and she moved down into the jollywatt and took her seat. As they were rowed ashore she could not help but look ashore and wonder where to begin, she needed food for Argus..extra rations than those brought, a room for the night, and weapons as well as the pendant.

She was lost in her thoughts until she was prodded by Argus's wet nose and whimper and then he was leaping out of the boat into the shallows. Shaking herself free from her musings she too climbed free of the boat and stood speaking with Ciaran and Alan and they soon all departed seeking their amusements. Wending her way through town she looked into shops and made her way to where she and Jacques had stayed that first day. The Lady remembered her and smiled warmly and ushered her upstairs to the same room.

A bath was soon brought and she enjoyed it fully though she was clearly eager to be out and about. Rising she dried off and quickly dressed fashioning her hair last and shaking out the blue of her skirts and running a hand over the bodice and tugging here and there till she felt it would do. Stepping into her new shoes she grinned placed the lacy cap upon her head and sweeping up her small purse made her way downstairs and out into the afternoon sunshine.

The light glinting on the rich jet hue of her hair, blue green eyes sparkling, Argus keeping pace at her side. Several gentlemen nodded to her and she nodded back sending flirtatious glances, afterall twas time to start currying gentlemen in high places for favors. One never knew where such could come in handy.

Reaching the market district she wrinkled her nose at the smell of fish and purused the wares and placed several orders smiling often at her great deals. At one small wares booth she noticed several plantains and purchased enough as a gift for the Dog and Heron and took one for herself. Stroking the supple fruit as she bargained for a better price she watched the mans eyes widen, his face flushed and she smiled innocently. She continued to work the fruit in her palms drawing a fingernail delicately over the skin of the fruit, and he soon grew to sweating, as she leaned over to select a few apples for additional purchase his gaze strayed to her bodice and then her cleavage. He named a price and paled when he realized how low the offer was but it was too late for she readily agreed and purchased the items. Giving him directions to the WatchDog as she slowly peeled the plantain and pursed her lips about it biting into the pliant fruit. "Very delicious M'Sieur...Thank you."

Bill gathered his things and joined the growing crowd of the Larboard watch in the long boat. He ensured that the tomahawk remained secure in his belt as he went over the side. As they hastened towards the dock, the men talked eagerly of the pleasures to be found there. Flint thought only of the list of tasks he had set for himself. He needed new clothes. His mismatched uniform had already drawn many a suspicious look. He wished for some tobacco for he was nearly bereft. Most of all he wanted to go back to that armoury and inquire further about how the tomahawk had come to be there. When they hit the shore he lept up and strode purposefully towards the market. He smiled and politely declined the many invitations he recieved from his shipmates to join them for a drink. By the time he reached the market he was feeling a bit peckish so he stopped at a fruitstand to grab quick bite. He selected a delcious looking orange and accidently jostled the young lady next to him as he collected his purchase. He was about utter an apology but broke into a broad grin when he saw it was Treasure, a memember of his former watch aboard the Dog.

"Well hello there Miss Tribbiani"

Jostled she glanced up and finished chewing her fruit before smiling with pleasure. "Redlegs! Off for good behavior?" she teased. She looked to the Orange in his hand and stood aside as he purchased the item and hid her amusement as the merchant continued to eye her plaintain. As the purchase was completed she stepped back into the sun and glanced way up, the light catching in her eyes turning them nearly clear "How are things on the Heron?" She asked her voice low and husky as she raised a hand to shield her eyes before looking back to him. She swung her small purse and grinned as Argus growled hackles rising before she issued a command with her hand and he sat placid once more at her feet, or rather on her foot as usual.

"Well indeed, we just took stock of the new arms and cannon as well as took her for a run around the harbor"

"I've also been drilling the Marines assigned to the Heron. They're a bit rough around the edges, more brawlers than actual Soldiers, but I believe I can work with them."

"How goes it on the Dog?"

She laughed as they began to walk and remembered watching the trainings on the WatchDog when he had been present. 'Hmm perhaps you can assist me in the purchase of new arms, I think I need some new ones and I am not sure of what I should get and do not wish to buy the wrong thing or something faulty or cheap." She bit into her plaintain again and chewed thoughtfully before replying.

"It goes rather well, Captain Brand met with the Navarra recently and we have many new faces. Many, many new faces. But it goes rather well, Though I do miss having you aboard the Dog, Any news of Tawny?"

She was unsure if they would ever find Tawny and hopefully he was dead, she would hate to hear of him ravaging the women here, Although she still wondered how he had stowed away for so long. Could it happen again? She gave a shudder remembering her own first night in town and rubbed at the fading bruise upon her cheek. Then returned to eating the rest of her fruit.

Bill looked her up and down. She certainly was a comely lass. Was she really requesting his company. That of course meant nothing taken out of hand.

"Settle yourself William", he thought.

Christ it had been too long. Still he was more than happy to escort her.

"No, no news of Tawny. Hopefully I killed the bastard, still if I get second opportunity to make the rat suffer, so much the better."

"As to the matter of your arms, I'd be delighted to offer my services." and he offered her his arm."

A slight flush rose to her cheeks as he looked her over and she lowered her lashes and pretended great intrest in the last of her fruit. Then more boldly raised them and swept him an appraising glance. As he replied and offered her his arm she laughed and rested her fingers lightly upon the rough sleeve of his uniform. "I would be honored for your escort and more so for your knowledge. I do not wish to be taken advantage of in any arms purchase I make. I wish something I can wield easily and quickly. I have a cutlass, my musket and the little pistol from the Heron's capture." She confided lowly so others passing would not hear.

As they walked she spoke of places she had seen so far within the area, and asked if he had found a room for the evening. "There is a lovely little place I am growing rather fond of, and it seems quite vacant." Argus woofed at a small cat nearby and she shushed him as several turned at the deep bark. "Is there aught you are to purchase this trip?"

"Aye", he said

"I'm in need of new apparel, I'm afraid my current choice in fashion tends to garner undue interest." with a jerk of his chin he indicated a pair of local toughs.

"Now m'lady what are interested in accquiring? Blade or lock?"

Again her laugh rang out as she took in his attire, but her head was shaken as she teased "Think you they will have clothing suitable for Giants? One of the recruits spoke of a place Captain Brand took them, I think it is up ahead if intrested." She looked over to where the toughs seemed overly intrested in Mr. Flint and drew her gaze from them to look to Argus and then ahead.

"Well they certainly seem to find you as fascinating as I do, mayhaps they wish to ask of your tailor, or perhaps your barber?" Laughter made her eyes glow, gave her face an impish appearance. "As for arms, I do not know, what do you think appropriate? I can afford whatever I wish within reason." She had to raise her skirts to step over a puddle, a hint of slender ankle in clocked stockings and fancy shoes were then seen. “However a blade would not be amiss.” She said sweetly, a wicked smile lifting the corner of her lips.

'I wish to buy a cross as well, I miss mine. And of course check in on Mr. Pew, and Who knows what the night holds."

[Red Cat Jenny]

Crossing the Cul De Sac Royal

Miss Ashcombe had been helped into the longboat with two other men. She glanced worriedly at Silkie who lent her the new cocked hat in hopes of obscuring her identity neath its brim. Only now realizing the tailor was destined for shore in a separate boat. She settled into the bow hoping the green of the hat would bring more luck than attention. The longboat pushed clear of the 'Dog and the men at the sweeps pulled towards the cutter. While they traversed the distance between the two ships, Jenny scanned the surrounding craft between the shoulders of the crew as they drew the boat across. Perhaps she hadn't noticed before, but there suddenly seemed to be a great many more men and boats all around them. Miss Ashcombe held tightly to her parcel feeling as if the specie secreted within was a bad luck talisman, which would surely bring some form of wickedness forth from amongst the anonymous faces traversing the cul de sac. The afternoons breeze brought a light chop to the water and she shifted once or twice in the seat, releasing the parcel only briefly to steady her person against the side. Attempting to hold fast the hat with her other. Several times to her chagrin the brim was blown back and she lost hold of it altogether bumping into one of the men in the crowded craft as she fought to recover it from the bottom of the boat. Jenny feared at that moment her feminine features had become too plain. At that moment she saw a face..looking across from another longboat..it was but for an instant, but the man seemed to lean forward as she sat upright rushing to cover her features. He seemed to be straining to see her inbetween the larger occupants of the boat. Jenny felt a knot in her stomach as she slouched lower between the men. Choosing not to speak for fear of appearing a foolish woman and compromising her chance to remain when they sailed. In the moments it took to re secure the hat, the man and his craft had been re absorbed into the melange bobbing on the surface of the cul de sac. Jenny's grip tightened and she brought her eyes to the floor of the longboat, once again hoping for the distance to shorten in little time.

Henri Patois had been watching the comings and goings of the Watch Dog. He counted himself lucky to have spotted them moving his prey into a boat where she would be less protected. Henri also silently praised his ingenue in not sharing his sighting of the gerl, which would secure any reward for him alone. After all Master Garaud had said it was unimportant that she be live or dead when returned. The stolen money was foremost in his interest. The ire of losing her in the rain when he had been so close the previous night was replaced now by agitation and slight panick, as Patois realized that she was not headed for the shore but being delivered to another vessel. His fear confirmed as a man in the longboat hailed the Heron. The Bosun replied and the longboat was hooked to the Heron's chains while it's occupants made themselves and their posessions ready to board. As Luc reached up to the ladder, a sharp report shattered the words he spoke along with a portion of wood from the cutters side. He let go with an oath and ducked back into the boat reaching for his musket even while the others jostled in the pitching craft as chaos erupted from the normal proceedings. Shouts rose to and from the deck of the heron followed by shots as the man was betrayed by the smoke from spent powder. No match for fire from so many directions and lacking adequate cover, Henri Patois realized the fatality of his error all too late as he fell pierced with several musket shot. The crew scrambled to secure the situation only then to discover Miss Ashecombe her face spattered in blood sharply in contrast with the fading dusk of the bruise, unconcious in the bottom of the boat.

[Maeve O'Treasaigh]

Maeve hummed quietly as she made her way slowly back towards her shop and home. She was quite pleased with herself, having finally managed to procure the promise of passage for BriarRose aboard La Esperanza. She had spoken with the Quartermaster of the ship, a Mr. Castillo, who had promised that he could take her companion at least as far as La Margarita and see her comfortably arranged their. He hadn't seemed too concerned that Briar was obviously English. Maeve had felt reasonably assured of Miss Kildaire's safety aboard ship as well as her safe delivery to the island. It might not be as far away as Briar immediately hoped to go, but it was the best she could arrange for. Maeve had spent the rest of the morning meandering through town and shops, both for pleasure, food, and for the various items that BriarRose needed. She ate a delicious slice of papaya as she wandered ever closer home.

[William Brand]

August 2, 1704 - The Cul du Sac Royal

Two Bells of the Afternoon Watch

As before, William purchased the necessary extras for the recruits, and this time with greater ease and speed, so that he was finished with that business by one of the afternoon. This freed him up to pursue other matters, and following his own advice, he took two of the new recruits with him as additional protection while ashore, sending the remaining men back to the Watch Dog.

His two chosen man for the afternoon were Mathew Campion and Benjamin Quigley. They were very different men by all examinations, but they had seemed most suitable for his purposes. Mathew had a bearing about him that was strong socially, while Benjamin's strength was made more apparent by the gruff and natural way he sized up everyone who passed him. It was like traveling in the company of two very different, but effective dogs.

Traveling together they had just turned away from the docks bound for points inland when the echo of many discharged arms carried over the water to the piers and small boats tied up along the shore. An unusual pause followed as most of the men and women along the docks stopped their labors to look out over the Cul du Sac Royal. Most of them shielded their eyes, for the sun was high and the water bright.

At first, William cursed not to have his glass with him, but when he saw the light puffs of smoke from the Heron, Watch Dog and even a third ship anchored hard by, he changed his mind at once about his errands and put into one of the longboats bound for the 'Dog.

[Black Syren]

Bill's booming laugh filled the market

"Aye,"he agreed.

"Let us have a look at this tailor, then we will find you arms to rival Alexander himself".

with a polite smile at the two hoods they continued down the thoroughfare.

By chance they passed a jewler on the way to the tailor's

"Let's stop here and see if we can't accquire you a cruxifix" he suggested

"Then to the tailors we shall go." As they continued on she could feel the eyes of two boring into them and a chill of unease slid down her spine, a spine she stiffened defiantly. As he spoke and drew her slowly towards a jewlers she looked up to him "You would not mind? I know most men hate to shop, and in truth I know what I seek if I find it..It must call to me."

As they entered the shop a small bell pealed over their heads and she looked about at all the cases and releasing his arm moved forwards to peer into those cases, being a woman she could not resist. A man came from the back seeing the lady he turned his gaze to the tall man behind her and frowned. As he approached and went to speak to the lady he kept one eye upon the other "May I assist you?"

"You speak english? I am glad for I do not speak french at all." she said with a warm smile. "I am in need of a cross, I lost my other and feel lost without it."

As her eyes dimmed for a moment his face brightened and he looked to Mr. Flint and she looked over her shoulder and held out her hand "Come let us look shall we? We are together, and he said we should stop here as we heard you are the best." As the man took them in and listened to her little untruth his chest puffed out with pride and at once relaxed. "Of course, your husband is right, my establishment is the finest." Quickly he moved back to the back of his store and began to bring forth trays. Treasure cast Bill an apologetic look as the man had taken him as her husband.

Bill smiled warmly at her indicating that she should think nothing of it. If the jeweler took him as her husband he be much easier to bargain with than if he taken Bill simply for a sailor on shore leave cavorting about with a lady of the evening. While Treasure perused the trays of cruxifix he looked upon the other wares and found a small necklace that he decided would look smashing on her and immediately resolved to purchase it for her. While Treasure was examining the crosses he hailed the shop keep.

Busy searching through the trays she was unaware when a small lad came over to take the shop owners place as he himself went to attend Bill. All were lovely, exquisite and made with great talent. She ran a discerning eye over each, all were too large and rather too impractical for a sailor. Going back through the trays one by one she still did not find what she sought and heaved a frustrated breath.

Moving down the glass cases she paused at a tray of rosaries and asked to examine one made of gold and pearls, it was brought out and she smiled with pleasure as she held it. ‘I’ll take this, but I need a small cross..something a wee bit bigger than this one.” She pointed to the crucifix with Christ on the bottom and the boy smiled and nodded and taking her rosary ran to the back.

Still looking through the cases she was unaware of Bill’s purchase, her thoughts on the rosary and as the curtain parted and the young lad moved back to her she smiled. For in his hand was a smaller crucifix, very simple and yet elegant for it’s simplicity. All in all the piece was stunning, made of deep garnets in a rich burgundy brown hue she took it reverently and stroked it..”Aye this is it…a chain? Something short, nothing long…And Ill take it now if you can.” As the owner returned he caught her request and moved to find a chain to fit it. “This is an old piece, one of my first that never sold. It was too different, I am glad it will have a home.”

“Tis a wonderful piece, and I do like a little uniqueness to my jewelry. I thank you for it.” As he heanded her the chain she asked Bill to assist her in putting it on.

Bill stood behind her and helped fasten the chain around her neck. He let his hands linger on her shoulders for the briefest of moments, feeling the warmth of her skin.

"Oh, I very nearly forgot," he said "I got you something."

with that he fastened the necklace he had purchased around her neck as well. It was a small choker made of petite round cut diamonds and pearls. The jewler beamed.

"Madam looks exquisite."

"Aye" agreed Bill, whose smile was even bigger than the jewlers.

She shivered as his fingers lingered, the calloused fingertips rough and very distracting upon her skin. She felt her lungs seize and startled glanced up as another strand was placed around her throat. This one heavier and warm against her throat, her lungs released and she was able to draw a deep if somewhat unsteady breath.

'Oh but...' She wanted to say more but could not before the jewler, instead she turned slowly, her hand raising to touch the cross first and then his gift which fit about her throat like a glove and smiled up at him.

Thank you, but I really cannot accept it.. She wanted to whisper softly. There would be time for that out of doors and out of earshot.

Blue green gaze was dark with emotion and she spoke again so the owner would think nothing amiss "Well how does it look?" She inquired tilting her head to the side. She did not quibble as a price was given, she was too happy with her purchases, something that had always had great meaning for her, and now she was unsure what to think of his gift though it was exquisite, she could see it within the mirror's nearby.

"Now to the tailor's?"

[Silkie McDonough]

Ashore at the Surgeons

Above the door the wooden placard read “O'Treasaigh, Churgeon” As Miss McDonough rapped on the door the strains of song that floated from inside ceased. Within moments the door was opened and Murin was greeted by a petite lass that welcomed her with a smile, “Good day. I’m sorry but the surgeon is not in at the moment.”

“G’day. I’m nil ere t’see d’surgeon, I was tol det I could fine Misster Pew uv d’Watch Dawg ere.”

“Ah! Mister Pew. Yes, he is recovering here.” Briar glanced at the woman before her and wondered about her manner of dress. The young woman was too fair of face and had too full a figure to attempt the disguise of a man yet she wore a green check neck scarf tied round her head covering all but a few escape curls, a mans shirt, brown waistcoat and sailors slops. She seemed quite comfortable in her clothes; Briar gave it no more thought. “Please sit.” She gestured to a nearby chair, Murin walked into the office, still favoring her injured ankle and took the seat indicated. “I shall see if mister Pew is awake. I am sure the gentleman is well enough for a visit from his lady”. She went to the stairs and stopped at the bottom. “Who shall I tell him is calling?”

“MEER-een MicDunna” She replied. With that the woman whom Murin presumed was the lady of the house swept gracefully up the stairs. She was at the top of the stairs before Miss McDonough thought to inform the woman that she was the ships tailor and not Mister Pew’s Lady.

[Black Syren]

"Aye the tailor's"

He paid the jewler and offered his arm "Shall we?"

He leaned in close to whisper in her ear. As he did so he was overwhelmed by her scent. He closed his eyes and savored her for a moment.

"I do hope you like the necklace, I knew it was meant for you the minute I saw it," he breathed.

She placed her fingers upon his sleeve again, felt his breath stir the tendrils of hair that wisped loosely, felt it brush her ear as he leaned close to whisper into it. Her eyes half closed, it had been so long, so long since she had felt such. Her blood surged, ran hot and heavy and she could not surpress the shiver that wracked her spine. The slight parting of her lips, her fingers tensing upon his arm, her breathing coming faster, her ribs struggling against the confines of her stays.

Startled she gazed up, her eyes darkening, stormy, uncertainty and desire pooling in the depths.

"Aye the tailor's" She said her voice huskier, she let him pull her from the shop, her other hand going to the choker about her throat.

"You know I cannot keep such a gift..it would be wrong..Tis to fine for me." She protested.

"Nonsense", he said " A gift, once given, cannot be returned."

He paused and turned to her scratching at his chin.

"If anything," he continued, "It's not fine enough for you"

"Speaking of such, how did such a lass as your self end up choosing a life at sea?"

“Then I shall thank you and treasure it always.” She replied before he paused suddenly and turned to her scratching his chin. She had to tilt her head up a bit to study his features and tilted her head inquiringly, about them other swept past them like the sea around rocks. She blushed at his next words and went to protest, however his next words had her wary.

She had admitted to some of her past with Alan, Captain Brand knew all of it and she drew in a huge breath, as far as her stays would allow. “Tis a long and uninteresting story” She concluded weakly.

She went to move about him to get them moving again and spotted the tailors sign “Oi look! The tailor’s.” She took his arm and tugged and began walking backwards “Hurry, let us get you dressed, I confess I find myself famished.” She hoped he would not ask more, she was not quite sure she was ready to let go of her secrets, and then again maybe telling others would free her soul of the heartache and guilt of losing her little brother.

If only she had allowed her step father to have his way and control her life, as he had her mothers then mayhaps her little brother would not have paid the ultimate price, would not have died and allowed her freedom to do as she wished. All her life she had been raised as a courtesan, training, following in her mother’s footsteps. Taking her first lover at fourteen, others carefully selected by her mother after that, even after she had married determined that Treasure should have control of her destiny. William had saved her that night long ago, had coaxed her to sign on with the WatchDog. She had known nothing of sailing but she had learned and was still learning, She loved exploring new places and William had given that to her as much as her mother had.

Shaken from her musings as the shadow of the sign fell over them she laughed and spun about and opened the door and entered with him. A hush settled over those within, some being fitted, some purchasing, others running to fetch fabrics, and tapes strung about their necks for measuring. The main tailor was kneeling and his mouth full of pins as he hemmed a set of knee breeches. All in all twas not any different from a mantua makers other than they were men.

She ignored the looks of the gentleman fastening a gaze upon one of the assistants and as he made his way to them looked up to Billy. ‘I shall take a seat over there, out of the way and let you…”She waved a hand “Do whatever it is men do in such establishments.” She winked at him and grinning moved away and took a seat.

Bill turn round and round as the tailor appraised him and made suggestions. Flint was only searching for serviceable work clothes, but the clothier noting the heft of Bill's purse sought to tempt him with finery to which the big marine was unaccustomed. Eventually they settled on a complete ensemble that almost enitrely replaced Bill' much bedraggled uniform, save for his tricorne and sergeant's sash which he now wore about his waist instead of over the shoulder as customary. He spun in a circle, arms akimbo, before Treasure.

"Well? How do I look?" he asked

Treasure had watched though stayed silent, she too appraising the clothing presented, the fabrics and of course the colours presented. All in all the tailor knew his business for she could fault none of the suggestions though the finery was a wee bit hard to imagine on him. He had lived a hard life and made no excuses for such, and walking about like a peacock was not something he was comfortable with. 'I think they are all wonderful and perfect choices." She rose and moved towards him with catlike grace and paused as the tailor bowed to her and stepped back.

She tilted her head looking up into his eyes, studying him, and then raised a hand to run along the fabric of a frock he was wearing that was needing adjustment. She could feel the shift of muscle beneath the layers of clothing, her fingers flexed then fell away, then she walked about him slowly and nodded. "Handsome, I think you are handsome." Indeed he was very handsome, and it showed no matter what he wore but now he was clad decently he would have many feminine hearts fluttering, hers included.

She moved away and as he once more gave instructions to the tailor she pulled aside an assistant an ordered a frock in deep blue and one in claret and told him to add them to his order and those she paid for as a gift. A gift that though they were finer than what he was purchasing they were simple and elegant, not ostentatious and she wa sure he would be pleased to wear them ashore. A gift he would not know of till he opened his packages. She hid a smile and trailed a finger over the collar at her throat and moved to take her seat till his business was concluded, a glance out the window showed the two ruffians from earlier lingering about outside, apparently they had nothing better this day than to sit and be attended by a Doctor, Personally she thought the day to fine to go against Redlegs. Eyes losing focus she toyed with the collar at her throat, memories of the past bubbling close to the surface.

[William Brand]

August 2, 1704

William tried his best to discern what had happened on the Cul du Sac Royal. The distance between the docks and the Heron was not significant, but it took some time to arrive there. Too much time in William's estimation, though it was not so many real minutes. As the boat crossed the distance a bell began to ring from the promontory where Fort Royal lay. It was the precautionary alarm of a Fort always on the watch for troubles and additional bells of urgency sounded from the various ships about the bay as crews of merchants, frigates and small boats all craned their necks to see what had happened there.

"Good gods." William thought, and it vexed him that he would most likely stand face to face with officials from Martinque before the day was over. "What bloody fool would shoot at the Heron in broad daylight?" he wondered, for a dozen ships or more lay upon the water at anchor, everyone of them armed with guns great and small.

Many boats were now rowing towards a seemingly empty boat adrift on the water. As they approached they could see that men of the Heron, Navarra and men which William did not recognize were all crowding about the unkown boat. A man from the Navarra's cutter stepped into it to investigate the body there even as men from the Watch Dog arrived. Conversation flew between the many boats as they gathered and it was learned that a single man, acting alone, had fired upon the Heron for reasons unknown.

William looked beyond the boat to see what might be taking place at the Heron. It was obvious, even from this distance, that someone had fallen or been shot in a small boat from the Watch Dog. The Heron's crew were all gathered at the rails and even Dorian had arrived there, glass in hand. William could just make out Luc and the Dutchman, Scymmelpenninck, but few else.

"Damn." William cursed and then he shouted out a flurry of orders. "Lash that boat there and tow it to the Heron!" he called, and a man of the Navarra made as if to protest, but William cut him off before he could offer any. "Off with you!" he called, and strangely enough, the men departed the boat at once, returning to his own. His orders obeyed, William, the recruits and the corpse laden boat made their way to the Heron.

[Dorian Lasseter]

Aboard the Heron

As the jollywatt had started its way across the expanse between the Watch Dog and Heron, Dorian had given the deck over to Mister Tucker. He headed below to ready the Ward Room, as he would have the new recruits report to him there and put their names in the ledger. He tidied up some things, hung his short jacket up alongside his fine coat, checked to see if his weskit was dry, which it was close to, but still damp, as was the coat. He would just have to face the new crewmen in shirtsleeves, which might make an interesting impression on them. As the captain was putting away some papers, glancing over them as he did, he heard the hail and return hail of the Bo’sun. Smiling he looked over the room just as a musket report shattered the silence. This was soon followed by shouts and thumping feet and more musket fire. Dorian grabbed up his pistol and yanked his cutlass free of its scabbard and damn near broke down the door getting himself on deck. Seeing all eyes turned over the side, he found the Bo’sun.

“Tucker! Report!”

Mister Tucker was looking and glanced at the Captain as he yelled for the men to hold their fire.

“Someone in that boat there fired upon us, Sah! We defended th’ ship as rightly so!”

The Captain’s blood was up, he was upset being in some ways caught unawares. From over the side voices called out about someone being injured.

“Mister Tucker, have some men bring aboard whoever is injured, then send a boat full of armed men out there… I want whoever it was that shot at us, now.”

Tucker had never seen Captain Lasseter in such a dark mood. He was calm, yet radiated a barely restrained anger that he almost felt.

“Aye-aye, Sah! Right away Sah!”

The Bo’sun knuckled his brow quickly and turned away barking orders. Dorian stood at the rail, cutlass in hand as he stick his pistol on his belt, staring out across the bay at every eye turned on his little ship. He knew he had new crew aboard now and had to show his character. Watching the jollywatt skim across the waters full of men from the Heron, he saw the boat they were headed for bobbing in the water,grabbing the ship's glass he took a closer look at the craft, there was no movement aboard.

[Pew]

After hearing the shot from below, Eric called for each marine onboard to report to the quarterdeck.

He leaned on the mainstays and squinted towards the main top. Ciaran had stayed atop in John McGinty's stead since the boy had gone ashore.

Eric cupped his hands and bellowed aloft, "MISTER CIARAN, REPORT"

The main top lookout leaned down and describe the last few minutes proceedings. Eric followed the details and watched the current scene unfold upon the harbor. He could see Luc across the short distance to the Heron, standing, musket at the ready to fire again.

Little Jean and Pierre had joined the officers side. "Fetch 's th' glass, eh Jean," Eric requested. Mister Franklin put the glass to his eye and saw Captain Lasseter on deck, cutlass in hand ordering his men to the small floating craft. Eric moved to the bow to get a better view and found Jean Doublet and Manus Hingerty reloading for another shot.

"The Cap'n on approach Mister Franklin," Manus gravelled. Eric spun the glass forward and saw the distinct figure of William Brand rapidly shortening the distance from shore.

[BriarRose Kildare]

BriarRose hid a smile as she turned to go up the stairs to see if Preston was feeling well enough to visit with the the young woman who had come to see him. She made her way to the patient's room humming softly to herself. Going in to the room she noticed that Preston seemed to be struggling to get back into bed.

"Do you need any help?" she asked trying to hide the laughter bubbling up from her throat for he made a comical sight trying not to show his naked nether regions as she came in to the room.

"Don'tcha ever knock?" he asked some what discomforted.

Clearing her throat, she said,"There is a pretty young lass down stairs waiting to see you. Are you up for a bit of company?"

Pew's brow furrowed wondering who the young lass could be visiting him. A wicked smile lit up his face as he said, "Well, I could be usin' a bit of company."

"Now you best be behaving yourself sir." she adomished shaking a finger at him. "You are not quite fit as of yet to be having a bit of fun. I will send her up only if you promise to be a gentleman and behave yourself."

"Aye, but yer a hard woman, ye are."

BriarRose went back downstairs to the young woman who was waiting. "He will see you now miss."

Murin stood up balancing herself a bit before she began to walk toward the stairs. Her limp was more pronounced than it had been before when she had first come in to the shop.

Waving her hand, BriarRose motioned for the young lass to sit back down again in the chair. "Let me take a look at your ankle" she said.

Murin blushed, and said, "oh, no miss, I come only t'see Mister Pew."

BriarRose smiled sweetly and said, "I am an apothocary now working with the surgeon. Mayhaps I can take down some of that swelling a bit and perhaps ease some of the pain." Gently taking the young lass's ankle and slipping off her shoe and stocking she looked at the swollen distorted shape that it had become. "Mmm, well, after you are done visiting with your gentleman I will have a soak ready for you as well as a poultice."

Murin's face reddened a bit more as she said, "I nil wish t'cause ya any trouble miss."

"Don't you worry your self about that for it is no trouble at all. By the way my name is BriarRose Kildare." she said holding out her hand as she stood up. Murin fumbled a bit before taking her hand and said, "Pleased to meetcha, I am."

"Well then I will start getting the soak ready for you."

Murin quickly put on her stocking and shoe and then hobbled her way up the stairs to Preston's room.