Port Royal, Jamaica

[Captain Striker]

After Striker had given orders to the men the galleon started to move out of the docks and sail into the bay in the direction of the open sea . Striker stood behind the helm with Lauritzsen and Ioan by his side.

La Maligna fought against the waves that pounded at her .

"Hun skal nok klare det . Vi har været ude for det der har været være" Striker said to Lauritzsen while holding fast to the helm. the lieutenantagreed with him they had been out in much worse conditions. Not much worse , but still worse. He smiled to the captain.

After a while the Captain changed place with Lauritzsen and went down to his cabin. He found Jane sleeping while sitting in one of the stiff chairs .She was still tucked in his coat. He went to her side and and could not help himself from looking at her. Her hair had fallen loose and hid her face .With his hand he moved her hair to the side.

[CrazyCholeBlack]

Jane tugged the mud caked shoes off. Wet legs were pulled up, knees hugged close to her chest, wrapped in the warmth of Striker’s heavy coat. She reached out, removing the saturated red cap from her head and shaking loose the tangle of hair underneath. It dropped softly to the cabin floor. Jane’s head tipped down, resting against her raised knees. Green eyes fluttered closed as she felt the ship pushed forward by the insistent winds. The light touch on her cheek jolted her out of a faint dream. Her eyes flew open, breath caught by the surprise.

“Oh, captain!” Jane exclaimed, exhaling with relief. She sifted under her warm coat, a hand reaching out from the surrounding fabric to push the damp hair away from her face. “I was just, have we cleared the bay?”

[Captain Striker]

He regreted to have waken Jane from her sleep . "Aye , that we have . Now we need to find a way around the storm or if we are lucky we can find a hole in the storm and sail right through " he said furrowing his brow. "Ye should change the clothing before you get sick "

[CrazyCholeBlack]

She looked down at her soaked clothing, blushing slightly before her brow furrowed. She had left her trunk and all her meager belongings back in the attic room. The haphazardly patched slops and tattered jacket were all the clothing she had, even less than when she had first joined the Anna Rae. She looked back at Striker, the perplexed look on her face obvious.

“Um, well. Now what would ye suggest sir?” She smiled broadly, tipping her head to one side quizzically.

[Captain Striker]

Her statement made him more red faced then her . He cleared his throat "Ahem, all in good time . I was thinking more on these . He walked over to get some of his clothing and brought them to her.Maligna roled from side to side , Striker hated storms. "First we must be out of the clear!" he said to Jane

[Ransom]

Ioan had been relieved to see Striker return to the ship, but surprized that the woman had returned with him, dressed like a boy. But in the rush to get the ship away, he didn't have much time to think about it.

Striker gave quick orders, which Ioan didn't understand. He did, however, understand ships, so hurridly helped where he could. They were barely in time, as the huge swells rolling in from the open ocean, pushed by the power of the storm, would have flung the La Maligna against the docks, and crushed her hull like a walnut.

Despite his worry about the gale, Ioan was glad to be at sea again. He also found himself likeing this Captain Striker, so vowed to be on his best behavior. If the Rakehell was beyond his grasp, then better he should find a good position under a fair captain, than be left scrounging for crumbs in Port Royal.

[CrazyCholeBlack]

Strikers suddenly red face elicited a burst of laughter from Jane. Her hand clamped over her mouth as she gasped for breath between giggles. He had completely misunderstood her question, although his hidden suggestion was one she wasn’t likely to forget.

“No, sir, you misunderstand” she stammered still shaking with amusement “I, everything I had is back at tha tavern. Although twasn’t much more than this anyway.”

She, stood, dropping his heavy coat onto the vacated chair and took the offered clothes. The man could be as stern with his crew as he wanted but around her he faltered like a young boy. The ship pitched suddenly, Jane’s feet bracing as the floor beneath them tipped violently. She could see in Striker’s face that the storm made him uncomfortable. She had seen a few squalls while on the merchantman but there was something about this one made her nervous as well. With her free hand she gestured at him to turn around. He obeyed, his head dipping as his back faced hers. Her sodden clothes fell easily to the cabin floor, replaced by Striker’s pleasantly dry garments.

“Thank you” she muttered, folding back the long sleeve cuffs as he turned to face her again. “Ye’ll hold me ta that explanation then aye?”

[Captain Striker]

"aye, indeed . " He sat down on the other chair "I am all ears."

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling had removed himself and Aurore from the seat.

"Skittles!" he called and Mistress March hurried over to take Aurore below to the captain's quarters. "Stay with her please!" he added and Skittles smiled as she quickly ushered Aurore below.

Once again, replacing himself on the seat, he was lowered over the side to collect Meagan. At first the young girl was frightened but like most children, an encougraging word, a broad grin and a reassuring hug, and she was all a giggle as she and Sterling were hoisted up and on board the Archangel.

"Oh can we do it again?" she whispered as he carefully lowered her down to the deck.

"Any time ye like," Sterling replied with a smile. "Mr. Merriweather please escort Madamoseille Meagan below to her mistress!"

"Merci," Meagan said and gave Sterling a quick hug about the neck.

"Keep Aurore company. Tell her of the fun you have had," he added. Meagan nodded as she took Mr. Merriweather the elder's hand and was lead below, Sean Merriweather rolling his eyes at having to attend to a girl, when so much more was happening about them.

Symms came forward, the Captain's greatcoat in hand and helped Sterling struggle into the heavy coat. Seat was lowered once again, and crew and officers stood waiting to lend a hand.

As the new doctor arrived on deck, slightly green in colour, he held a bundled woman in his arms. Sterling's brow raised as he looked to March. The First officer could only shrug his shoulders.

As Reiley handed charge off to several sailors, he walked over to Sterling and March.

"I hope you do not mind. It is Mistress McKinney. She is gravely ill with fever and I could not bare to leave her in the port. There is another young lass with Mr. Davis. She lost her home when The Shippe burned to the ground. Is it all right to bring them aboard?" the doctor asked.

"Aye, yes of course. We can certainly manage until the storm passes well enough doctor. Tell me," Sterling asked. "Mistress McKinney?"

"She is overwrought sir. High fever, quite delusional at the moment. I thought I could tend to her here more proper like," Reiley explained. He hesitated a moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "She thinks your are out to kill her..." Reiley added with a grin.

For a moment, Sterling's eyebrows arched high and Mr. March smothered a chuckle before the captain finally said, "Well done then doctor." He tossed a quick questioning look at his first officer as March continued to fight back the laughter. "Have her brought below to sick bay, then when she is no longer a threat to the rest of the crew, mayhaps we can make her more comfortable else where on the ship," Sterling added, wishing he could jab Andrew March in the ribs with his elbow.

[Dan Reid]

the red haired man with the little dog under his arm entered the church as the wind howled. He dropped the dog to the floor and struggled to close the door against the persistant struggle of the wind. With a thud the door finally came to rest upon its threshold. The small dog gave a low bark and the redheaded man turned in time to see the priest approach from within the church proper.

"I seek shelter from the storm, father" the man said to the priest as he stood dripping water upon the floor.

The priest looked down with a scowl at the bedraggled little dog sitting at the man's feet. "That thing be joining you?" he asked.

The redheaded man's eyes narrowed slightly "Aye, that he will"

With a look of disgust at the little dog the priest nodded "This way, Mr.?..."

"MacCraig, Captain Hamish MacCraig" the redheaded man said as he followed the priest to the rectory.

The priest showed Captain MacCraig to a room that glowed warmly from the fire already set within its hearths confines. MacCraig and the little dog entered the room. MacCraig walked up to the roaring fire, stretching his hands toward its warmth and the little dog began to sniff curiously around the room.

"Will there be anything you will need, sir?" the priest asked.

"No, not at this time, father. Just the warmth of this fire to dry my soaked bones."

"I shall fetch you for dinner then, my good sir" the priest replied. Giving the dog one final look of dismay, the priest turned and left, shutting the door behind him.

"Well mate, at least it's warm" MacCraig said to the dog as he settled into a chair before the fire. The little dog, satisfied with his new surroundings, settled himself comfortably at his master's feet and promptly fell asleep.

[CrazyCholeBlack]

“I thought so” Jane mumbled in reply, taking in a deep breath.

Her thin fingers twisted together to hide their trembling. Striker’s bright eyes followed her as she paced the cabin, waiting patiently for an explanation. Jane couldn’t shake the feeling that she owed him one, even though she had only known him a short time. Yet she feared telling him to much, feared what he would think of her if he knew about her past. She was not the innocent flower most men thought of when they saw a woman. Jane found herself unable to look at Striker as she spoke. Her green eyes focused instead on the polished wood floor below her.

“I had a husband and a son, once, in New York. Tha boy died before ‘e was born. My husband he, well,” She laughed lightly, her misplaced humor raising a questioning brow from her listener. “’e’s dead too.”

“’bout that same time my, ah, tha Anna Rae was in port. ‘er carpenter, Joseph, convinced me ta put on some slops n’ join tha crew. Even took me on as ‘is own mate, made sure I did everythin’ right at first. It was just going ta be fer long enough ta get some coin n’ find a new city. A way ta disappear n start over. He was even going ta come with me, make up fer, things.”

She smiled faintly, thinking of Joseph’s whispered promises for their future, the home and children he wanted to give her. She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes, her lids fluttered closed to prevent any from falling. She paused a moment, the only sound in the cabin the occasional rumble from the storm and constant lap of the ocean against the ship. Jane could still feel Striker’s sharp gaze on her, the unblinking eyes waiting for her to continue.

“A fever took him almost eight months ago. I should ‘ave left then but I promised ta keep tha Anna floating till I had enough ta take care o myself. Only tha captain was a terrible drunk. We kept goin’ out longer n’ getting paid less every time. I could never get enough coin for more than a week or so. It got so I’d rather starve on tha streets than serve under that drunkard any longer, but, well.” she sighed, finally lifting her head to look at the captain. His face remained expressionless, hands folded neatly over each other across his thigh. Her feet shifted with the rolling ship as she found her way back to the stiff chair. Thin legs curled underneath her as she sat, eyes wandering away from the Striker’s once more.

“When we came ta Port Royal I thought ta go off fer a while, see if I even remembered how to be a proper lady. I knew I’d ‘ave ta go back eventually but then you, well, I” She faltered again, to embarrassed to admit her feelings for the captain. She could feel the color heating her cheeks. A shaking hand tucked stray hair away from her face.

“When tha fire threatened tha ships, I couldn’t jest let tha Anna burn. But Fulton wouldn’t move ‘er till tha cargo was stowed. By tha time tha storm kicked up ‘e was so into ‘is cups ‘e wouldn’t give tha order. There won’t be much left o ‘er once this is through n’ I don’t ‘ave” She shrugged, letting the sounds of the storm fill the room once again. The ship pitched, sending one of Jane’s legs out instinctively to prevent her chair from falling. She rose her eyes to Striker’s suddenly, a deep furrow between her brows.

“How’d ye know where,” Her question trailed off as she looked at him. She knew it couldn’t have been chance that he was at the same tavern but she wanted to hear it from him.

[CrazyCholeBlack]

Ulises stood like a statue in the small window, silhouetted by the intermittent flashes of lightening. His dark eyes stared into the equally dark night. The stale smell of death permeated the room around him. A scared hand released the window latch, drawing the pane forward. Blustering wind swirled around the tight space, the single oil lamp flickering under the sudden assault. The Spaniard turned his scowling face to the corpse huddled in its own blood near his feet. He stripped the limp body of its clothing before hefting the body effortlessly over the window sill. It twisted oddly as it fell the short distance between casement and earth. Soon enough the raging storm would flood the city streets, taking the carcass with it.

“¿Que difícil es una mujer para encontrar?” Tangled black hair shook in frustration. He would have to track down the girl himself once the weather stabilized thanks to his foolish men. Any sane man would have written the idea off as hopeless, but Ulises was not about to let the Dane’s weakness slip through his fingers.

The same scarred hand reached out, pressing against the gale as the glass was forced shut again. Opaque eyes returned to their survey of the night sky. Striker would undoubtedly take La Maligna to the sea to escape the tempest. Ulises had thought to use the storm to his advantage, surprising the Dane while he cleared the bay. The Capitán had hesitated, unwilling to brave both the storm and the galleon’s full complement of cannons. He drew in a deep breath as he watched another jagged bolt of lightening split the sky. Keen instincts told him that the two men he had hired would be successful. Once La Maligna was defenseless it would a simple matter to collect her and her erstwhile captain. Slowly the shadow receded from the window. Ulises settled onto the stiff mattress, drifting into a dream wracked sleep as the hurricane continued to ravage the city around him.

[Captain Striker]

The ship pitched, sending one of Jane’s legs out instinctively to prevent her chair from falling. She rose her eyes to Striker’s suddenly, a deep furrow between her brows.

“How’d ye know where,” Her question trailed off as she looked at him. She knew it couldn’t have been chance that he was at the same tavern but she wanted to hear it from him.

Striker liked that she suddenly shifted the focus from herself and threw it upon him.

"I sent Hr. Lauritzsen out to take care of you. "

He saw the dislike in her eyes when he said that she was followed.

" I wanted you to be safe , and you ran before I could say it to you!" He hurried to say before she could complain . It seemed to work , the look on her face seemed to be more calm.

"And as it shows out it was the right thing to do... You were followed by two Spaniards! What is the conection between you and them ? They attacked us when we were together and now they were following you ..."

He saw some fright showing in her eyes , but before she could answer he continued to talk

"To all luck Lauritzsen was the only one to recognize when you left the inn. That was when I decided to see you with my own two eyes before I would belive it."

[Ian Finn]

The wind began to howl as we sighted the La Maligna. The smaller craft at the wharf had begun to bang around their moorings. The larger ships had begun to sway, but not as bad as the smaller. We ran down to the docks and persuaded a small cutter to remove itself form the docks. "We'll surely g't bl'wn o'er," Liam says to me. "Aye. Keep low an' we'll drag th' oars 's best we c'n. Take th' tiller an' get 's close to 'er." Liam hunched over closer to me as I had been yelling since the wind had drowned out what noise was possible to hear. The waves in the harbor overran our cutter repeatedly with it's white caps. More than once, we were sure to go under.

[Ransom]

With myself on one side, and Africa on the other, we struggled to hold the ship's wheel steady to the course. The Rakehell, heeled over in the wind, and with waves bursting over her bow, fled before tha gale, which howled around us like a beast from hell.

I had no idea of the time, as the sky was dark as slate, with no sign of sun or star. Nor could I see any sign of land or cay, and I knew the fear of running aground haunted us all.

After what seemed like days of struggle, but was probably only five or six hours, the wind, though still strong, shifted slightly, as if the Rakehell, like a wooden missle in a sling-shot, had been flung from the edge of the storm to safer waters.

Shouting over another burst of thunder, I ordered Africa to head South Southwest, hoping we could cut around and come up behind the hurricane before we were blown all the way to the Gulf of Mexico.

[Liam Finn]

As the wind, rain and waved grew rougher, we realized were were fools to have thought we could beat the stoem and overtake the La Maligna. "Ian! We need ta ead back! Not gonna make it!" He looked around and pointed. "there be a ship o er yonder! a cable lenght t starberd!" I looked where he pointed and there loomed a ship closer to us than the shore was. I nodded my head and bent over the sweeps heaving to het us there quickly. "Ian shielded his eyes as we closed on the stern of the ship. "I can read. . . . Arc. . . nay ArchAngel!" I keep pulling for dear life as Ian yells, "Ahoy th ArchAngel, Ahoy! Permission ta board fore we drown!" Ahoy! ! !" I keep on pulling with all my strength.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Sterling's Private Quarters were spacious in their own right, but far too confining in her current state of mind. After pacing its' meager legnth and eyeing the hanging cot numerous times, its' pendulum sway confused in passage, Aurore focused on the doorway leading to Great Cabin beyond.

Thief's focus fell to the large sea chest encumbering mass space at far wall. Moving closer to its' proximity, large lock was inspected, then concealed shank produced. With deft application, hasp was released and interior viewed. First withdrawn was the soft texture of worn linen shirt. Next, a pair of Husband's britches far to large for petit frame, but taken nevertheless.

Meagan watched after without comment as soaked lengths of cloak and dress were disgarded for what was found. Waistline sinched with make shift adornment of cloak saccrifice, chest was investigated again. Another shirt was produced and given to small charge; its' cuffs rolled back and tails knotted to accommodate the girl's tiny stature.

Resucuring the iron guardian, Aurore stepped to the larger surround of formal room. Bare feet padded softly on wooden planking as parameter was investigated. Nearing latched sternchaser port, she paused to manipulate and crack open wooden shutter. There without, in the building wrath of Tropical whim, a smalling craft containing two men did well to battle futile passage. Lightning tongue licked the heaven's with serpentine manner, splitting the dim with blinding lumination.

Drawing nearer to narrowed view, dark olive sights focused intently on war of Nature against Man on shifting field.

[Ransom]

Candle flame and old papers rustled in the ghost-like draughts, as Trilby, with the feline form of Cleopatra hunched in his lap, listened to the storm rage. Shutters rattled, and somewhere outside something clanged, crashed, and was silent. Souris cowered in a corner, his ten year old form scrunched into another padded chair.

Trilby read aloud, attempting to sooth the fear he saw on the young boy's face, but the tragic fall of Troy didn't seem to have much effect, although Cleopatra seemed to like the tale. When something heavy crashed against the front door, the boy jumped and fell out of his chair, then rushed to hide himself in the heavy folds of Trilby's worn scholar's gown.

"Nae fret, boy, tis only somethig flung from the street. A barrel most like. There'll be nae telling what we'll find against the house when this passes by. If we're lucky, that barrel will be filled with fine Port."

Another crack of thunder rattled the beakers and jars in the study. One small vial tipped off the bookshelf and shattered. "Blast," Trilby said, eyeing the mess, "there goes the last of mae graveyard dust."

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling continued to regard the approaching storm with leery eye as crew members moved hastily about tending to duties. Gunner Beach steadily on top of his own men saw to the safe keeping of the guns. Minions and sakers were lashed into place, the thought of their carriages coming lose in a storm and careening about the deck as the ship pitched like an untamed horse was enough to bring a chill to any man‘s soul.

Symms had seen to the stowing of all lose items in the captain’s quarters, whether they be chair or port decanter, Skittles lending him a hand as he moved about. Old eyes widening only once as he saw to the securing of the captain’s sea chest and spied his new mistress coming toward him in clothes all too recognizable as not what she had come aboard in.

Nod of approval was given to Aurore by old steward, as nod of approval was given to the youngest midshipmen up on deck as ship’s bell was dampened to stop any false soundings. Joshua Merriweather bowed slightly in return to Captain’s notice then made his way to Mr. Hazzards for further orders.

Early on, as skies had taken on a threatening hue, cook fires had been put out, supper if there were even the time for it would be served cold. Trysails set, life lines made ready, cable was slipped and marked for later retrieval, the Archangel began her difficult race away from the hurricane.

“Captain..” Andrew March started to say but was interrupted by raise of Sterling’s hand and cocking of his head.

“What was that?” the captain asked. “Do ye hear it? Above the wind?” He moved quickly to quarterdeck railing and looked over.

“What the bloody hell?” March muttered as he followed Sterling’s example.

"Ahoy the Archangel, Ahoy! Permission ta board fore we drown!" Ahoy! ! !"

was barely discernable to even Sterling’s ears.

“They’ll bloody well kill themselves,” March said stepping back as the wind nearly made off with cocked hat.

“Tis along way back to the wharf and a hard pull of it,” Sterling remarked. “If they can hook into the chains and make their way onboard, then so be it. Inform them we have already slipped the cable and they may have to jump for it. If they do manage, have them searched when they come on deck. Have Sgt. O’Malley “entertain” them below, I do not take kindly to strangers, storm or no,” Sterling continued. “Once in front of the storm, a bit of scudding perhaps until it is safe to loose more canvas. Then we shall set a course for Virginia.”

“Virginia?” March asked taken aback.

“Aye. Twill make for a fine honeymoon, besides,” Sterling grinned. “I need a rest.”

[CrazyCholeBlack]

"To all luck Lauritzsen was the only one to recognize when you left the inn. That was when I decided to see you with my own two eyes before I would belive it."

Jane wanted to rage at the Captain for having her followed. She wanted to be insulted by his patronizing action but found herself unable. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had worried about her safety in the way Striker had. She was filled with a sense of protection that all the weapons in the world couldn’t duplicate. Her view met his in the small space between them. She could almost see his concern behind the sparkling pupils. Any anger she held onto dissipated with the simple gaze.

“Spaniards? Following me? Oh, tha man that ran off.” She gasped, a trembling hand raised to her lips. Her stomach turned sour, not from the lurching of the ship but from the thought of how close she had come to danger. The memory of their alleyway altercation with the Spaniards was still fresh in her mind. Jane could think of no other reason they would have followed her aside from seeing her with Striker.

“Ye said they didn’t recognize me, when I changed. Perhaps,” Her eyes fell to the turned back cuffs of Striker’s borrowed frock coat. Thin fingers rubbed at the substantial cloth. She nodded silently to herself. The simple change of clothing had already proven a safe escape once, why not a second time?

“Thank ye sir, for sending your man after me and” Jane paused, her volume dropping as the hot blush flooded her cheeks. Her green eyes lifted to Striker’s, the blue orbs never shifting from hers “and for coming yourself. I seem to owe ye more every day.”

[Ian Finn]

What seemed like hours passed before a a figure appeared over the rail, "Lash yourselves to the chains," the voice yelled over the increasing wind. "We have slipped our mooring. Make way as best ye can." I leaned forward of the bow as Liam pulled as best he could to catch the ship. With a stretch, I was able to grab ahold of the chains long enough for Liam to scamper to the bow and climb to the deck. I soon followed and turned back to see the small cutter get caught by a wave and turned over.

We climbed over the rail to be greeted by two men with their hands on their swords and a taller man with a black beard clutching his hat upon his head. He leaned in to us and put forth his hand, "Andrew March, First Lieutenant of The Archangel." "Gentlemen," he sweeps his hand towards the door leading away from the maindeck. Liam and I shakes his hand and follow one of the men into the large room. The leading sailor draws his cutlass and turn about. "Stop," he says bruskly. Liam and I look at each other. With rough hands we are felt down for any weapons. A loud thud happens when the hands find my dagger and then Liam's. The lieutenant stands in front of us and narrows his gaze, "Can't be too careful around here you know." "Aye" replies my brother. "What are your names gentlemen?" I put my hand out to shake the officer's hand, "Ryan, Ryan McHinney, this 'ere's my bruddah James." The lieutenant returns the shake and asks, "what finds you men out on a godforsaken night like this?" Liam and I spoke at the same time, but I continued, "We booked pass'ge 'n th' Mah-lee-na, but she made way 'fore we could g't aboard. We 'were tryin' t' get aboard 'er." The lieutenant clasped his hands behind his back as the sailor lowered his sword. Liam spoke up, "Ifin ye could get 's near 'er, we'd try t' make 'r way t' 'er then."

[Rats]

"Damn, hell and scunion!" Hissed Reiley as he attempted to keep his footing. "This is no place for a man to live!"

But as he tended to the mistress, Reiley hid all distaste in an effort to calm his patient.

"You'll be alright dear lady." Reiley added as he attempted to calm Mistress Mckinney. "But with the daggers in the Captain's eyes, I'm afraid I'll be swimming back to shore."

[Capt. Sterling]

It was several hours before Sterling was able to make his way below. Storm anchor had been applied and with trysails set abaft fore and main masts, the 'Angel's bow into the wind, he had decided it best to sit and ride out the storm, and depending on the circumstances, hopefully not sink...

He had already given orders upon March's report regarding the latest arrival and, after visiting with Dr. Reiley to hear his account of Lilly McKinney's current health, he now found the McHinney brothers in dry gear and at least a cold meal in their stomachs.

Sgt. and extras relaxed as Sterling approached.

"My first officer informs me that ye wish to be taken to Captain Striker's ship," Sterling began... "I would like, very much, to oblige ye but at the moment that is impossible. Only a fool would attempt such a feat in this weather. My crew has her hands full just trying to stay put now that we have covered as little ground as we have. I had no intentions of putting back into the harbour once the storm had passed but rather to make sail to Virginia. Ye are welcome to travel with us, ye can earn ye passage by working, or I can send ye in with a boat back to the Port, as God only knows, where Striker will be when all this dissapates. I have full confidence that the 'Angel will survive this ordeal but I cannot vouch for any others. I am sorry I cannot accommdate ye further, gentlemen, so if my news displeases ye all I can say is ye are welcome to swim if ye like."

[Rats]

"Don't feel bad sir..." Insisted young Mr. Davis, as he handed Reiley a towel. "... happens to everyone, not use to the sea."

"You don't say..." Growled Reiley, as he snapped the cloth from Davis and kicking the bucket away. "Least if I was drunk, I'd have a reason to feel like this....."

"Oh hell......" Paused Reiley, as he looked around the room for the bucket. "....not again!"

[Aurore Devareaux]

It was a simple structure by most counts, low slung and somewhat narrow. Utilitarian in visage, it would never inspire comment of awe as would others in the area for beauty. But beauty did not ensure safety and the thick stone construction gave fortitude against elemental wolves howling and clawing without. Nestled in the foothills, well away from angered seas, these walls were laid clever as any redoubt, cumbersome roof acting as undaunted shield to the prying rain which shoaled constant looking for a way within. Low droan of hushed conversation gave accompaniment to rain's steady battering as families and aquaints huddled together in warm lamp glow; waiting for Tempest passing. At farthest end, representitives of the Animal Kingdom did likewise, stirring restless in paddock confine while instinct called for flee.

Small girl child melded despreratly within Sabastian's embrace, her tiny face streaked with trickle of fearful tears; eyes red rimmed and fighting the want for closure at exhaustion's whim. His was a portrait of continence, features carefully set to elude perfect calm as charge was rocked gently in soothing manner. Dark sights scanned surrounds now and again, keeping watchful vigil over those in his care as compasionate Noble. But this was not the only reasoning for surveys, some could be attributted to desperate search for younger kindred's arrival; which knawed constant at the core of his soul. Others were to track Elder's progress within the long structure's common room.

Thus far, the first variety had produced nothing of success; the second brought Quary ever closer....