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Post by Sabess on Jan 25, 2014 11:29:25 GMT -5
The Black Skull stood proudly in the water, sailing North. The Sand Tiger trailed slightly behind, the bow almost touching The Black Skull's stern. Commdore Gordon Bloodsmear stood at the bow of his ship, he gazed out over the glistening water before him. The sun was beating down upon The Black Skull, leaving a shine upon the wooden surface. He put his telescope against his eye, magnifying his view. He could just barely make out land, although it'd still be at least half an hour before they arrived at this speed. The plan was to reach the shore, and attack the settlement there. It was only a small town, however the Royal Navy had setup shop there, making it the perfect place to ransack.
Gordon held a sullen look upon his face, turning on his feet and briskly approaching his quarters. He sat at his desk, reaching for his quill. He took ink to paper, writing out a message for The Sand Tiger. It was somewhat simple, however extremely important. Once he finished, he unlocked his Pigeon's bird cage, attaching the message to it's leg. He let it rest upon his finger, strolling onto the deck. He gestured for it to fly towards The Sand Tiger, and being a well trained bird, it did so. He recalled what the message had contained.
"Captain Benjin,
I trust you remember the plan. I'll go over it again, in-case a detail has slipped your mind. I will lead the assault, leading a shore party towards land. You are to do the same, leading your own party. We will attack from different sides. We do not know much about this land, however from what I can currently we should be able to arrive initially undetected. There are blind spots to the right and the left, I will take the right.
Once upon shore, our goal is to take anything of value. A small town holds no use to us, however we have good reason to believe the Royal Navy has decided it would be the perfect outpost. We'd be mad attacking any sort of refined base of operations that they have, however there should not be too many of them there, two ships at most. Leave the townspeople alone unless needed, they will have nothing we need. Our interest in this place is solely based on Royal Navy presence, take anything of value from them, be it from their corpses or their stockpiles.
If it goes smoothly, we'll be cleaning new weapons and counting new coin tonight. If they best us, we'll be spending the rest of our lives rotting in a cell or the rest of the day being chased by Royal Navy ships, depending on how fast you can row. Good luck, Captain.
Signed,
Commodore Gordon Bloodsmear."
The message was large enough to fill most of the paper. Gordon awaited a response, be it simply his pigeon flying back without it's message, or a written letter.
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Post by Court Baron Butters on Jan 26, 2014 0:19:32 GMT -5
The following has been translated from french to English for your reading pleasure. 'All hands, on deck. Hoist the mainsails into the wind!' the Helmsman cried, the entire crew roared onto the deck of the Royal Knave a small galleon belonging to a 'noble' french pirate, the quarter master walked up behind the helmsman and gave him a sharp smack to the back of the head. 'I am the one to be yelling commands around here' the quartermaster stood, at the helmsman's side, and began barking orders to the crew members, the pirates untied the ship from the dock, and began to shove away from the small island. The ship rolled out into the quiet waters, one sailor began to bellow out a melody 'Who's that knocking at my door?' said the fair Young Maiden.' The rest of the crew sang out in retort: 'It's me and my crew and we've come for a screw!' said Barnacle Bill the Sailor. "It's me and my crew and we've come for a screw!" said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.' The lone sailor cried out again: 'What if I should lock the door? What if I should lock the door? What if I should lock the door?" said the fair Young Maiden.' once again in retort the crews rang out: 'I'll use my cock to pick the lock!' said Barnacle Bill the Sailor. "I'll use my cock to pick the lock!" said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.' A colorful figure stepped out from the captains quarters dressed in royal french attire, he walked with a short brown cane, and had white powder over the entirety of his face, he looked around the deck glaring at the sailors, as they sang. Sharply the man shouted "Quiet you tards. The captain began strolling around the deck, eyeing each and everyone of the seamen aboard, he stopped near one of the crew members, and began inching closer to him. He got in the mans face and then sung a melody: "and what if my parents should come home? What if my parents come home?
What if my parents should come home?" said the fair Young Maiden." The lone sailor grinned and begun to sing, the other sailors would shortly join together with him 'I'll kill your pa and then fuck your ma!' said Barnacle Bill the Sailor. 'I'll kill your pa and then fuck your ma!' said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.' The sailors continued to sing this tune as they sailed - south - through the blue waters. |
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Post by unit894 on Jan 26, 2014 17:36:05 GMT -5
Captain Benjin Al-Sallad stood behind the wheel of his ship, the Sand Tiger. As always he stood with his back ramrod straight, his entire being radiating an aura pride, confidence and a youthful energy more common to men almost half the age of the Captain. He sailed far too close to the leading ship, the Black Skull than was necessary, but the shouts of warning from the sailors aboard the Black Skull went ignored, or Benjin would simply laugh, and inch the Sand Tiger even closer.
Suddenly, a young Chinese sailor ran up him, a pigeon clamped under one arm. He ran up to Benjin, and dropped to one knee, offering the pigeon to him like some holy offering. Commodore Bloodsmear had tasked Benjin with teaching his crew all to speak English. Benjin, who only knew the most basic English himself, had enlisted the help of a few of the Black Skull's crew members to help. Most of the crew could now speak English relatively well, but this young man's Chinese accent was still strong.
"A message from the Commodore, captain"
"Thank you Feng, carry on" Benjin had made no attempt to lessen his strong Middle Eastern speech, and had made an effort to learn his crew's names ever since he had recruited them; only a day before he had stolen the Sand Tiger. He stepped away from the wheel, forcing Feng to grab it so it the Sand Tiger wouldn't crash into the Black Skull. Benjin stroked teh pigeon absentmindedly as he unfurled the note and read it.
Captain Benjin,
I trust you remember the plan. I'll go over it again, in-case a detail has slipped your mind. I will lead the assault, leading a shore party towards land. You are to do the same, leading your own party. We will attack from different sides. We do not know much about this land, however from what I can currently we should be able to arrive initially undetected. There are blind spots to the right and the left, I will take the right.
Once upon shore, our goal is to take anything of value. A small town holds no use to us, however we have good reason to believe the Royal Navy has decided it would be the perfect outpost. We'd be mad attacking any sort of refined base of operations that they have, however there should not be too many of them there, two ships at most. Leave the townspeople alone unless needed, they will have nothing we need. Our interest in this place is solely based on Royal Navy presence, take anything of value from them, be it from their corpses or their stockpiles.
If it goes smoothly, we'll be cleaning new weapons and counting new coin tonight. If they best us, we'll be spending the rest of our lives rotting in a cell or the rest of the day being chased by Royal Navy ships, depending on how fast you can row. Good luck, Captain.
Signed,
Commodore Gordon Bloodsmear.
Benjin sighed dramatically as he walked down to his cabin. "Of course I know the plan. I helped make it!" He opened his door and slammed it shut with his boot without looking back. His room was a pirates gold mine. Everything from pistols, swords, maps and charts, and even a few golden trinkets were piled on top of each other on large mountains of stuff all over the room. Benjin's desk was a mess of papers and books. He collapsed into his chair, swiped everything off of his desk without a second glance, and grabbed a pen and ink pot. His writing was like his personality, large, and full of flourishes.
Gordon,
Do not fret so much brother! We will soon be sitting atop a pile of your English goods very soon!
Benjin
The Captain rolled up the note, attached it to the pigeon, and left the cabin. He let the bird fly, and it's simple brain led it straight back to the Black Skull. Benjin walked back to the wheel, and took his place once more, hungry for the action soon to come.
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Post by Stelpher on Jan 26, 2014 23:27:53 GMT -5
Buckweiser stood on the deck of The Black Skull, within close proximity to the Commodore and allowing him a good view over the whole of the ship. He liked this spot for those reasons, while at the same time it just felt calming, being able to watch over the ships activities. Steering away from the philosophy of a spot on the deck, he shaded his eyes and looked towards what was mean't to be an island. He kind of felt sorry for the soldiers that were based there. He had been with this crew for some years now, and he knew their fighting skills. They were fast, brutal and had a sense of honor, which made it all the more embarrassing for the soldiers that survived.
Looking down from the hazy horizon, he glanced again at the decks of the ship. The crew were gathering their equipment for the coming raid, while continuing to operate the ship. He reminisced silently, thinking of the days when he worked down there. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Jerome found himself whistling a tune, one that he couldn't quite remember where he heard it from. It was surely something he would have heard in his years of sailing the sea's, but he had been sailing so long, some things just seemed to blend into a blur of memory.. Either way, he found himself quietly whistling.
He unsheathed his swords, examining them in the midday sun. They were both sharp and clean, with not a nick anywhere to be seen. Happy with them, he carefully sheathed them again, then checked his pistols. He kept multiple strapped to his chest, as he had learned in battle you would not have enough time to reload them. He used them in a sort of 'one-shot' fashion, only firing once with each pistol then drawing his swords instead. The pistols all seemed to be in working order, so put them back in their holsters too.
After a short while, the Commodore came out of his cabin with a carrier pigeon, releasing it. It flew over to The Sand Tiger, no doubt carrying orders or some other kind of information. Within five minutes, the carrier pigeon was back in his hands.
Jerome strolled over to the Commodore, nodding his head in respect before making eye contact.
"Anything new from The Sand Tiger?" After he received his answer, he nodded respectively again then strolled back over to his spot on the deck. It really was a nice spot, he thought to himself, readying for the raid soon to come.
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Post by Sabess on Jan 27, 2014 0:52:35 GMT -5
Gordon let the Pigeon land upon his finger, taking the new message from it's leg. Before he could read it, he was approached by his Lieutenant, Jerome Buckweiser. He asked if there was anything new from The Sand Tiger. Gordon let his pigeon sit on the edge of the ship as he unrolled the paper. "Nothing much." He told him in his mild Geordie accent. He motioned for his Pigeon to hop onto his finger, which it did without hesitation. He placed it back in his cage, flicking it a piece of bread to eat.
Gordon looked through his telescope once again, seeing that they were slightly closer. It hadn't been long since he last checked, but he could barely make out a docked ship with a seemingly British flag. Gordon's thoughts were interrupted by a rather loud tune coming from his left. "What the bloody hell is that?" He whispered to himself, turning his head to see a moderately large French ship. It was smaller than the Black Skull, but not small in it's own right. He put his eye against the telescope, seeing a French flag flying proudly above the ship. "Ready the bloody cannons!" He commanded, shouting to his crew. He approached his quarters with great haste, flinging the door open.
He took ink to paper, hastily scrawling out a message commanding the French ship to stop for questioning, simply reading;
" To whom it may concern,
Stop your ship, lest you want it sunk. We do not look to fight you. We need information.
Signed,
Commodore Gordon Bloodsmear"
Gordon tied it around his Pigeons leg, letting it fly to the French ship. He could barely make out the words of the tune they were still singing. "Then we'll kill your pa and fuck your ma!" was all he could properly make out. "These are Frenchmen?" He questioned himself, rushing down to the top Cannon deck. "Don't fire until I say so." He commanded, repeating the same order once he reached the lower cannon deck. He sprinted back to the top deck, seeing his Pigeon just reaching the ship.
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Post by Court Baron Butters on Jan 27, 2014 1:38:14 GMT -5
Pierre, now had his arms around another member of the crew swaying back and forth, he was beginning the next verse of the song "Are you young and handsome sir? Are you young and handsome sir? Are you young and handsome sir? Said the fair young maiden." two which the crew roared out in repose 'I'm old and rough and dirty and tough, said barnacle bill the sailor. I'm old and tough and dirty and rough, said barnacle bill the sailor.' In falsetto Pierre cried back. "What is your intention, sir? What is your intention, sir? What is your intention, sir? Said the fair young maiden." Once again his crew rang out. 'Oh, off with your shirt, so you doesn't get hurt! Said barnacle bill the sailor. Oh, off with your shirt, so you doesn't get hurt! Said barnacle bill the sailor.' In his most feministic voice Pierre bellowed out again. "Will you take me to the dance? Will you take me to the dance? Will you take me to the dance? Said the fair young maiden.' And yet again his crew excitedly quoth-ed back. 'To hell with the dance! Now off with your pants! Said barnacle bill the sailor. To hell with the dance! Now off with your pants! Said barnacle bill the sailor.' [The following scene has been translated from French to English for your reading pleasure] The captain opened his mouth to sing the next line, but he was interrupted by a small fowl which flew around the captains head, on of the crew members held up a gun to the bird and yelled 'Don't worry cap'n i'll take care of 'im for yeh.' The captain swiftly snatched the pistol from the sailor, and yelled back in retort "No you dolt! Look it's carrying a message." One of the sailors quickly went and snatched the bird out of the air, he pulled the message off the foot of the pigeon and then spoke. 'Cap'n it's in english.' he passed it to Pierre who began to read the message, translating it into french as he read. "To whom it may concern, Stop your ship, lest you want it sunk. We do not look to fight you. We need information. Signed, Commodore Gordon Bloodsmear" The captain quickly finished reading and then whistled to a crew member up in the crows nest of the ship. Pierre yelled at the sailor. "See you any ships around, drunkard?" The sailor got up from where he was sitting and took out an eyeglass, naturally he put it to his eye and began scanning the horizon. He noted two ships traveling quickly towards the ports. He then shouted back down to the captain 'A rather large galleon, and a Chinese junker sir!' Pierre shook his head, and decided to send the men back a courtesy message he cried out to his quartermaster "Go fetch my first mate." The Quartermaster ran into the captains quarter and quickly came out with a large falcon, the falcon quickly spotted the pigeon in the hand of a crew member and flew over to snatch it out, cutting the poor soul in the process, the sailor ran away from the group, and several other members went with him to help. Pierre put out his arm and the falcon landed on it with the pigeon clutched tightly in its talons, with the other hand the captain stuck the message to the mast of the ship with a knife, and then wrote on the back of it with a quill. The captain held the paper scroll out, and the falcon snatched it with its beak, it then flew off to the two ships on the horizon with the old messenger gripped in its claws. In English the message read: "As you wish monsiuer" The Royal Knave dropped its anchor, and all sails were pulled up. Pierre walked to the Dash (deck of the ship with the wheel) he faced the two ships, and waited. |
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Post by unit894 on Jan 27, 2014 14:01:45 GMT -5
Al-Sallad had been humming an old drinking song when his look-out; one of the Jeddah veterans called Hadi called down to him.
"Ship to the starboard Captain! Flying a French flag!"
Capitan Benjin grinned, and yelled down to his crew "Get the cannons ready brothers! Today we shall be stealing from the French and British!"
The crew roared their approval, and all along the side of the ship, the slats were pulled aside, and long cannons were pushed into view. The warship had been made for the Emperor's son, and was covered in intricate details. Every cannon's barrel had been shaped into a dragon with it's mouth open; some silly Chinese superstition, but it looked nice enough.
Al-Sallad waited for the Black Skull to fire, the normal signal for the Sand Tiger to fire, but instead of a barrage of cannonballs, a single pigeon flew over to the ship. Al-Sallad waited patiently for the return, to eventually see a large hawk return. Sallad called up to Hadi in the crow's nest.
"Hadi! What's happening?"
"The French ship has dropped anchor! It has furled it's sails!"
Benjin assumed the Commodore was intending to talk to the captain of the ship, and Benjin wanted to be there to see it. He strode over to the bow of teh Sad Tiger, climbed atop the wooden beam jutting from it, ran up it and leaped from one ship to the other. He ignored the astonished look of the crew members, jogged up the stairs and addressed the Commodore.
"Gordon? Why are we not sending this ship to the bottom of the ocean? I thought you English hated the French"
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Post by Stelpher on Jan 28, 2014 20:04:58 GMT -5
Word had gotten around that a French ship had been spotted in the distance. Curious, and wanting to confirm this theory, Jerome moved to the port side, shaded his eyes and scanned the seas. Sure enough, floating in the water, was a French ship dropping anchor. Jerome quickly strode back to his position beside the Commodore, awaiting orders. He heard the sound of boots on wood, and turned to see the Captain of The Sand Tiger in the air between the ships, landing on the deck and quickly moving towards the Commodore.
"Gordon? Why are we not sending this ship to the bottom of the ocean? I thought you English hated the French." Not liking the tone in which the Captain said the statement, Jerome gave him a cold look and called.
"Speak to the Commodore with respect, lest you want you head removed from your shoulders." He then answered the Captains question. "We are commencing a raid in roughly twenty minutes, we do not have the time nor the energy to waste on a simple French ship." Jerome then gave a slight bow to the Commodore, apologizing for his interruption.
Throughout the remainder of the conversation, Jerome kept his eyes on the Captain. He didn't really like him, he acted like some ignorant young teenager when he was at least 5 years Jeromes senior. He mumbled to himself, how dare he come aboard the Commodores ship without permission? Worst of all is he knew the Captain was loyal to the Black Skull Pirates, and so Jerome found it hard to understand his somewhat rude actions. He sighed to himself quietly, then went below deck. Cannon Officer Henkie was probably blowing a fuse wondering what was going on above.
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Urukdragen
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Post by Urukdragen on Jan 29, 2014 13:14:36 GMT -5
Henkie and his cannon crew prepared the cannons for the attack, while 10 of the whole crew was Dutch they started to sing a populair Dutch song, and they sang the loudest of the whole ship
after all the Cannons where clean and the song was done one of his crew members came towards him and asked:
What ammo do we use Henkie?
Henkie started laughing loudly and directed him towards the ammo stockpile of the ship and started to give him orders
I want the upperdeck loaded with Chain shot ammo and schrapnell, the lower decks I want the cannons to be loaded with explosion and with this!
He pointed to a little pile of cannon balls and tapped with his wooden leg on it, it sounded hollow. The crewmember looked confussed and Henkie as he saw this started laughing again
You never saw this kind of beauty before? wel godverdomme! this are Ignition bombs, just load them up and rain some fire on the- Wait a second!
He heared yelling people on the upper deck and he could hear a few things of what was said "French" and "Ship"
so he ran back towards the cannons and his head started to become red as he was shouting orders to his men
Hey Lapswansen! Load up the cannons and fire at my command we got some french butlickers up ahead, give me an Aye if your cannon's are ready don't show the cannons to the enemy yet! let it be an suprise!
He waited till all his crew was ready but when they all were. Then when he wanted to give the command to fire he saw the second in command of the Comodore, he never liked him That much. he saw him as one of the arogant people who abused their status, Henkie was more a Officer of the crew, because he served on other ships as low crewmember, but he had to be 'nice' to him cause he was part of the Crew. When Buckweiser was near Henkie, he started the conversation
Hey Buckweiser, Boerenlul. Don't you need to be up? shouting orders while we attack the french? Oops! Watch your step.
when Buckweiser was walking Henkie kicked an normal cannonball towards him. he didn't looked if Buckweiser fell or not. he was already walking away, screaming one last couple of words
Go back up, you don't belong here and tell the Captain I'am ready and I have a suprise for him when the Battle begins. don't break a leg when you go back up!
he went back to his crew and they started to sing again while they waited for the uncomming battle
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Post by Sabess on Jan 30, 2014 0:28:30 GMT -5
Gordon let out a hearty laugh, slapping Buckweiser on the back. "Be talking of respect like that boy, and you'd best remember he outranks you. To answer your question Benjin, we need a better idea of what the fuck we're even raiding. Looks like this Frenchy over here just left." He explained, his tone turning more serious as he went on. He saw the Frenchman's Eagle swoop from above, gripping his carrier Pigeon in it's Talons, clearly killing it. The Eagle got close enough for Gordon to land a quick bash to the side with the back of his hand, disorientating it slightly. He pulled the message from the Pigeons leg, suspecting it had been changed out. His suspicions were confirmed, the almost blank piece of paper only reading a very simple message.
"As you wish monsiuer."
Gordon ripped the message in half, dropping it into the water. "Stop the bloody ship!" He bellowed, commanding his crew members. They obliged, dropping the anchor and raising the sails. He marched down to the cannon decks again, repeating his message. "Don't fire, or I'll have your bloody head removed." He noticed Henkie giving Buckweiser a hard time, putting a foot on the rolling cannonball before it reached Jerome. "Hear that Henkie? I don't want you lot shooting a single thing just yet." He yelled, returning to the main deck.
Gordon had left the door to his quarters open, forgetting to close it. He entered it, preparing another piece of paper and his quill. He took ink to paper with great haste, writing out another message for the Frenchmen.
"Frenchie,
Bring a boat to our ship, we'll throw down a ladder for you. Trust us and you'll sail out of here with a head, try anything and you'll be shipped back to France nothing but a torso. Refuse to come all together, and you'll be swimming back to port, if you're lucky. And try not to kill the bloody bird this time.
Signed,
Commodore Gordon Cole"
He picked another Pigeon from it's cage, attaching the message to it. He took it out of his quarters and sent it towards the French ship, a scornful look across his face.
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Post by Court Baron Butters on Jan 30, 2014 18:39:21 GMT -5
[The following has been translated from French to English for your reading pleasure.] Pierre had his hands on the railing of the Royal Knave facing the two ships in the distance, he noted his feathery companion soaring towards his ship. The Falcon landed on the railing, and squawked at the captain, he patted the birds head, and then took him into his quarters, and placed the bird back in it's cage. The captain was interrupted tending to his bird, by his first mate barging into his quarters the sailor spoke as he ran in hurriedly 'A note captain, from the two ships.' Pierre snatched the note from the mates hands, and began to read it out loud, translating it to french as he read: "Frenchie, Bring a boat to our ship, we'll throw down a ladder for you. Trust us and you'll sail out of here with a head, try anything and you'll be shipped back to France nothing but a torso. Refuse to come all together, and you'll be swimming back to port, if you're lucky. And try not to kill the bloody bird this time. Signed, Commodore Gordon Cole" "Well then we must be writing them back soon, no?" Pierre said, adjusting his cuff links as he spoke. The Quartermaster (The first mate also acts as the Quartermaster, aboard Pierre's ship) scratched his dark skin, on the back of his head. 'What is it exactly that you sent the men?' Pierre went over to his wooden cabinet listening to his Quartermaster as he grabbed his two pistols, and Rapier. He turned around suddenly as his first mate finished speaking, and then he retorted "I told them we would comply, as we will comply with this message as well." A mix of confusion and anger flooded the face of the first mate, he spoke in disbelief. 'You cannot be serious, captain.' Pierre's tone became very stern as he spoke back. "Do I ever joke, Monsieur? Now go and assemble the crew, I must talk with them." The first mate laughed to himself, and spoke as he did so. 'All the time captain, I will fetch the crew for you, sir.' He exited the Captains quarters, and left Pierre to his business. The Quartermaster went to the helm of the ship, and shouted to the crew 'All able bodies, bring yourself to the doors of the captains quarters, he will be briefing you shortly!' The sailors, dropped what they were doing and hurried themselves to the front of the captains quarters. Shortly thereafter, Pierre opened the doors to his quarters, his pistols were strapped to the front of his torso underneath his jacket, but above his vest, his belt now adorned a dueling rapier. He stared deep into the eyes of each sailor, who stood before him. He walked through some of the men, they were speechless, and could only follow him with their eyes. The captain went to the railing of the ship, and stood on it, keeping his balance by holding onto the net rigging which held the mainmast in place. The captain spoke as he faced the two ships on the horizon. "Men the pirates aboard, those ships have asked us to join them aboard there vessels, and I will not be going it alone. I will require 10 brave men to help escort me to their boat, so who shall it be!?" The sailors looked among their ranks until one spoke up 'Well that's a suicide mission captain, they'll kill us when we get over there!' Pierre remained where he was never looking back towards the sailor as he talked. Quickly following the sailors spiel, he grabbed the pistol from under his jacket, and fired behind himself, never breaking eye contact with the ships. A sailor fell to the floor, and others gathered around him to help. one of the sailors shouted 'You shot Jack! He didn't even say a word.' Pierre's eyes grew big while he watched the to ships. "Aww...Yes, that was merely to prove a point, to the Dolt who spoke up originally, so then, who is with me!" A handful of sailors rose there hands and he selected nine of them, and his Quartermaster, the crew members not rendezvousing with the pirates, prepared three lifeboats, the volunteers were spread among two of the boats, and were lowered into the blue waters. Whilst Pierre, and his first mate (along with two other members of the crew) were put into a lifeboat, and promptly lowered into the waters. Pierre stood at the back of the boat (Which is the direction it would have been traveling) he watched the two boats in the distance as he was rowed closer, and closer to them. |
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Post by unit894 on Jan 31, 2014 5:29:28 GMT -5
"Speak to the Commodore with respect, lest you want you head removed from your shoulders."
Benjin laughed. He liked the young lieutenant, even though he was perfectly aware the feeling were not returned. This wasn't the first time the younger man had threatened his life, and it probably wouldn't be the last. The Commodore simply laughed, and slapped the lieutenant on the back.
"Be talking of respect like that boy, and you'd best remember he outranks you. To answer your question Benjin, we need a better idea of what the fuck we're even raiding. Looks like this Frenchy over here just left."
Benjin grinned and twirled the end of his moustache with his fingers. "You are turning into an old, worried man Gordon. Sailing blindly into the unknown is what we do best!" Benjin laughed and turned away. "I shall find some wine! I hear a drunk Frenchman is a happy Frenchman! Oh, and boy?" Benjin swivelled his head to look Buckweiser in the eye, his own twinkling mischievously.
"If you are so desperate to see my head rolling on the floor...you know where to find me" Benjin laughed, and went below deck.
He saw the Dutch cannon-master, as Benjin called it striding about. "Greetings to you Henkie, I am afraid we shall not be dining on the French supplies this day. The Commodore wishes to talk at them!" Benjin laughed, slapped Henkie on the shoulder, and continued to the cargo hold.
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Post by Stelpher on Feb 1, 2014 7:06:28 GMT -5
Jerome stepped onto the cannon deck, looking around the place. It was dark and cramped, the whole place was full of the stench of gunpowder, and in the middle of it all stood a mister Henk de Vries. Henkie was the Cannon Officer of the ship, pretty much the guy who was in charge of all the shooting. He slowly approached Henkie, his nose wrinkling from the odd smells.
"Hey Buckweiser, Boerenlul. Don't you need to be up? shouting orders while we attack the french? Oops! Watch your step." Jerome was going to tell him what had gone on above, but the Cannon Officer rolled a heavy cannon ball towards him. "Go back up, you don't belong here and tell the Captain I'am ready and I have a surprise for him when the Battle begins. don't break a leg when you go back up!" Jerome was prepared to kick the projectile back towards the Dutchman, before the Commodore conveniently intervened, yelling at Henkie not to fire.
Unsure what to do next, Jerome started walking back up to the main deck. He noticed the Captain of the Sand Tiger greet the Cannon Officer, but besides that, nothing of interest was happening down below. Jerome once again stood on his favorite spot on the deck, watching as three boats from departed from the French ship, slowly approaching The Black Skull. He walked over to the Commodores position, standing beside him for a few moments before asking.
"Commodore, how are we greeting a French guests?"
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Urukdragen
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Post by Urukdragen on Feb 1, 2014 20:06:28 GMT -5
Henkie was quite sad that Buckweiser wasn't hit and with the Comodore coming in shouting all he was already kind of done with this battle but he agreed to the comodore
Don't fire, or I'll have your bloody head removed
Aye sir my head would be quite bloody if its been removed, but orders understood
he was about to sit on a cannon when that Arab pirate came to annoy him too, he sighed stood up and walked with him to the cargo hold, just like the Arab he needed a stiff drink, he hoped there was still some Jenever, or how the Dutch called it "Vuur water" ( Fire water)
"Greetings to you Henkie, I am afraid we shall not be dining on the French supplies this day. The Commodore wishes to talk at them!"
Aye I know, I walk with you a bit, Get myself some drink too. fucking waiting, sometimes I don't get it. Thats why I am probably not the Commodore. lets see what they are up to then?
Henkie Laughed out loud and went for a little box with bottle's in it he counted them, "6 minus 1 is 5 left" he counted them out loud and when opening the bottle he took a sip and used his sleeve to clean his mouth then he walked towards the upperdeck and when he walked up every 2 steps a loud TAK was heared of his wooden leg
when finaly ariving on the upper deck he rubbed his eye's of the sun burning in his eye's. he walked over to the railing of the boat on starboard side and leaned against it looking at the little rowboat came in closer, drinking from his bottle
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Post by Sabess on Feb 1, 2014 20:40:16 GMT -5
Gordon was pleased that he received his pigeon this time, checking it for any new messages. He was slightly confused at the lack of one, however upon gazing up he saw the three lifeboats slowly approaching the boat. Gordon entered his quarters, placing the bird in it's cage and feeding it a small piece of bread. He rummaged through his room, soon finding what he desired. He took the bottle of rum from it's box, taking a swig before placing it back.
"What does Henkie call it? Dutch courage? Somethin' like that." He whispered to himself.
Gordon made his way down to the cargo deck, inspecting their supply in-case there was to be some sort of battle with the French. Everything seemed to be in place, just about as many swords and guns as there was last time he checked sat. Satisfied, he returned to the top deck, where he now noticed Henkie leaning against the railing. He approached him, noticing he was drinking some sort of alcohol.
"Henkie!" He called out, attempting to get his attention. "Give us a swig, aye?" He asked, motioning towards the bottle. Henkie agreed, Gordon taking a rather large sip and handing it back to him. "What do you Dutch think of the French?" Gordon asked, looking out to the row-boats approaching the ship.
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