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The Fate's Hand Wrote: Mutiny; att. all privateers
Topic Started: Apr 9 2011, 02:34 PM (3,010 Views)
NPC

Civilian
[align=center] Posted Image
NEIL DONOVAN, Carpenter’s mate[/align]

[align=center]Date: 30-th of May 1719
Place:Aboard "Fate's Hand", in the open seas[/align]



Neil’s mood was as sour as possible, and he was not the only one. What was the damn first mate thinking to act this way? If Captain Ashton had been there, something like this would have never been allowed. This was a privateer ship, not the blasted Navy he had gotten fed up with! The man didn’t have the nerve to officially step up into the captain’s boots, but he was asking for much more work and for abiding to a harsher discipline. And the fact that their success in the joint mission was not as brilliant as they had expected added to everyone’s frustrations.

Now, he was repairing the damages inflicted during the latest battle by the bloody pirates’ cannons. The beautiful snow deserved all the attention, she had saved their lives and brought them to victory… but he had no enthusiasm for his work. He was a proud Irishman, not a slave like Mr. Black considered him… them all, actually!

After they separated from the two allied ship, they had the good luck bring this lovely brig in their path, Jolly Roger flying high up. The battle hadn’t been easy at all, but finally the privateers got the upper hand. Neil had been one of the carpenters sent aboard the brig, to repair it and make it able to be sailed and brought to Nassau as a prize, and now, with no rest, he had to do – quickly - the same work aboard “Fate’s Hand”. The fact that he was dog tired, given that during the battle he had served the gun as taught in the Navy, because all skilled hands were needed in this, was of no interest for anyone. So he steamed angrily, while the wood under his hands was the only one to receive his revenge.


[align=center]This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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Shirai Masaki
Unregistered

Sharky was trembling with pain and exhaustion when he pulled the last basket with barnacles of the captured vessel into the boat. The pirates cannon fire had hit the storage hollow - fortunately not the gunpowder - so they were pitifully low on any victuals.
Usually the japanese whaler did not mind diving or working hard, but he had done so for too long and with too little rests already. The fact that he had been hit by a breaking yardarm on the left shoulder didn't make it any easier.

He did not know what mutiny was, it wasn't in his nature and mindset to revolt against the natural order of things. Captain Blade had rescued him, given him food, water and time to heal without asking aything in return and this man, Bra-ku was now in his place. Sharky wasn't ungrateful, certainly not, but he felt that he was overtaxed again. Considering his years of servitude to the Spaniards, overworking him was quite an achievement...
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NPC

Civilian
[align=center] Posted Image
KEVIN PRICE, Boatswain’s mate[/align]

Kevin had no reasons to be happy either. His thigh was hurting after receiving a splinter during the battle, as he was one of the gun captains, and since the doctor had patched him up, he had no time to rest. Of course, the bandages had to be replaced more often than it would have been needed if he had been confined to light duties as the doctor had recommended, but damn Mr. Black had a different idea.

”Something needs doing about his attitude,” the boatswain’s mate thought angrily. ”We are no damn Navy here, and if he doesn’t understand it, he has no place around. I haven’t seen privateers deserting yet, but if he doesn’t get it, this might happen.”

He was an experienced sailor who had sailed aboard enough ships during his thirty years at sea, and he started thinking that the first mate’s taking command of the ship had brought a curse of bad luck to “Fate’s Hand”. Furthermore, as a boatswain’s mate, he had noticed that there seemed to him to be a noticeable increase in minor squabbles aboard, a clear evidence of the crew’s loss of temper.

”This ship has become a powder load waiting for a spark… Good that, at least, we succeeded to capture the pirate ship with all her load. This has done some good for the morale,” he mused. A good prize was always a reason to be happy…


[align=center]This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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NPC

Civilian
[align=center] Robert Black [/align]
Not only the crew of the "Fates Hand" was annoyed... their first mate, acting captain was, too.
His ship, at least he thought of her as his ship, had taken a lot of damage and to be honest it had been a lot of luck that they had won that fight and taken the beautiful pirate vessel. It had literally sailed circles around the "Fates Hand", who was certainly more powerful, but not as nimble and manouvrable as the much larger snow.

Two times the poor "Fates Hand" had taken a near-raking, only due to the fact that the pirates had been obviously piss-ass drunk, celebrating their last capture some of the cannons had missed. The storage rooms of the comparatively tiny brig had been filled with silk and spices from the other side of Cape Hoorn... obviously a daring merchant whose luck had finally left him.
A good prize, a well as the pretty little brig, that hadn't taken too much damage and was already back into service, able to be commandeered by a skeleton crew, while the snow would need more time.

It would have been a reason to celebrate, but Robert Black, the captain - acting captain, but by now, he thought of himself as the captain - had darker thoughts on his mind. He was racking his brain, why they had had that many troubles with this little ship.
It reminded him uncofortably of Raoul Duvals recent defeat and that was soething he couldn't afford. Duval, high-born, darling of society and so on and so forth could surely weasel his way out of this, as well as out of the rumours about passionate kisses he had exchanged with a pirate. But he, merely first mate and not captain, without a sounding name... a defeat like that would surely seal his fate.

He was racking his brains about the reason for the near-defeat...and there was only one issue that came to his mind again and again and again... the "Fates Hand" had been to slow, despite of the fact that she was a fast ship.
Now who was to blame for this?
The riggers? He had worked them hard and they had been in the rigging to the last possible moment... but of course, they had had to miss a careening in order to get the necessary changes done quickly.

Their little diver, Sharky, or whatever the exotic topmans name was - he never managed to pronounce it and the man from around the Cap reacted to "Sharky" quite well - had been busy,w as busy now with the privateers vessel, but of course, this time he was fetching barnacles as food, since the damn pirates had shot their victuals into smithereens.
Black sent a glare towards the brigs where the surviving pirates, those who had been wounded as well as those who had finally surrendered, had been locked up, clapped in iron, of course as an additional precaution. He had heard about the near-escape on the "Hope" and if he ever wanted to be respected amongt the other captains ofthe allied Navies, he had to be twice as good as them.
And that meant, that he had to be informed about everything on the ship...
Sighing he turned around and regarded his ship and his crew. Yeah, they were tired..... but that they had won this time did ot mean that they could slack! But they had no good examples, he thought angrily, whenhe saw the old seadog, Kevin Price, the boatswains mate limp around like anold man.
Robert Blacks lips curled up into a sneer.
"Price!! Goddamn, are you sleepwalking or is this your usual pace of gait?"
He snapped, glaring at the man.
"If you see the diver, the man from Macao, send the creature to me, I have a little bone to pick with him."

[align=center] This post has been written by ALCIA[/align]
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Ewen McClellan
Unregistered

Ewen knew that something was brewing. It was in the lines of everyone's brows, the dry laughs that sounded dimly every now and again behind him, and the way everyone moved their feet. Some were probably ignorant of the feeling, and yet comprehended the conflict. But he felt it strongly and was ignorant of the meaning.

Being only a very new member of the crew, he was yet to make any close acquaintances, and knew of others only what could be learnt through observation. As though they were herd of horses, he watched their interactions, and sensed their hostilities like electricity in the humid air.

The attack of the pirates, sending his heart not only into a race unlike any it had experienced, but his head into a twister of questions that he could not hear the answers to, had resulted in the need for timely repairs, both of flesh and boat. This was their current preoccupation. It was drear, in all honesty. He wanted to be cheerful, and offer smiles, and perhaps even a bold slap on the back to anybody who could afford a moment, but none could. Just as he heard no one, no one saw him, and so his cynicism brewed like the mysterious hostility.
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NPC

Civilian
[align=center] Posted Image
KEVIN PRICE, Boatswain’s mate[/align]


Kevin was feeling a thousand needles in his thigh, and the one about whom he was so “tenderly” thinking snapped at him:

"Price!! Goddamn, are you sleepwalking or is this your usual pace of gait?"

This angered the old seaman more than anything:

”This is my usual pace of gait, Sir, when I get wounded in the battle and the doctor’s prescription is not taken into consideration! It hurts like hell, a wonder that I am still able to walk!” he answered, still on a low tone, but a determined one, and returning the glare.

When he asked for Sharky, Kevin answered curtly:

”Yes, Sir, right away!”

He knew that it wasn’t the appropriate time to really pick a fight with the acting captain, so he’d better do what he was ordered.

Kevin hadn’t befriended Sharky, but he had nothing against him. He was never slacking, always doing his job properly… He knew that his friend Neil was fond of the little critter, in whom Kevin was seeing the youngster who he had been once, with his broken English, which he tried to learn with ambition. Many crewmates liked him because he was always nice, helpful, bringing them seafood to supplement the pork and rice usually eaten at sea. Well, they had also fun at the expense of his low English skills, but Kevin was never among them. The old Welshman couldn’t forget that he had been in a similar position once…

And now, Mr. Black said he had a bone to pick with poor Sharky. Well, nothing new, he had a bone to pick with everyone lately… But he felt pity for the hardworking Oriental man, whom he found in the galley.

”Sharky, Mr. Black wants you,” he told him on a neutral tone. ”Go to him right away!"


[align=center]This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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Shirai Masaki
Unregistered

Sharky had just delivered the last basket with barnacles into the galley, helping the cook with imble figers to open the hard and razor-sharp shells to get the soft meat out. He had spent the morning in the rigging, repairing sails and yardarms with the other riggers, then he had been ordered to dive... after all, they had a few pirates to feed as well, who had asked for quarter. That was something, that miraculously the crew and their acting captain agreed on - "good quarter to be given, when craved" - the crew, because it was in the Articles, Black, because the English Navy had certain procedures to maintain with prisoners.
Sharky didn't know one or the other, he just understood, that there were hungry people to be fed. And the sea gave food, so why shouldn't everybody eat?

He had never even thought of complaining, but his slight body needed a rest. Therefore, the boatswains mates call for him to go to the captain, or the man, who was the captain for now. He gave Kevin a tired, weary smile and nodded obediently, before he went to the quarterdeck, were Robert Black usually could be found.
And really, the man stood there, gazing onto the open sea, obviously deep in thought.
Sharky cocked his head.
"Bra-ku?"
he asked innocently.
"What you need me do?"
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Edward Wallace
Unregistered

The white of his coat was stained a ruddy brown, his eyes set beneath heavy brows. His hair fell dishevelled at his forehead, falling, in places, over his crooked glasses. His pants were worn and his hands were calloused. Edwards’s entire appearance omitted a sense of tiredness and age, little he could do could hide his open weariness at their predicament.

It was not hard to see the murderous glances or the barely contained contempt that the men shot in the way of the acting captain, Mr Black, though despite this the man seemed to be blissfully unaware or simply uncaring. The fool clearly didn’t suspect that the crew would have a spine among them with a notion for rebellion. Edward had no notion of rebellion himself, while Mr Black seemed to be running the ship into the ground so long as Edward himself remained on top of things he had little to complain about- life would continue regardless of his situation or that of the ship. It could be said however that Edward did not approve of the man’s current method of administration, it all stank far too much of the regimented corps of the British Navy and while Edward could cope (outwardly announcing no distaste for the navy) he didn’t enjoy the harsh manner in which things were conducted. He knew also, that not all the men on the ship were as mild mannered as himself.

These thoughts were of little substance, whoever won the day, be it the acting captain or the disgruntled sailors (if it ever came to open battle) would need a surgeon to ‘stitch them up’- fortunately for Edward he was the only one aboard. It could be said that I’m….indispensible. Ha! Imagine that?

He turned from his current vantage at the side of the ship, taking time to look out over the leagues of Open Ocean. It was a far sight nicer than the view he was lended of the ship. Splintered wood, limping men, blood-soaked bandages; it was an image that none wished to see and yet none could turn their eyes from- the harsh reality of war and the state of the ‘victors’.

He motioned towards a limping Kevin Price, the passive neutrality of his features screwing up into a disapproving sneer as he noted that the man had clearly disregarded Edward’s medical opinion.

"Price!! Goddamn, are you sleepwalking or is this your usual pace of gait?"

The reply came quickly, from the man in question:
”This is my usual pace of gait, Sir, when I get wounded in the battle and the doctor’s prescription is not taken into consideration! It hurts like hell, a wonder that I am still able to walk!”

Edward nodded before approaching- first addressing the captain with a short, sharp nod.

“Mr Price, I note that you have failed to take my recommendations to heart. A short rest from work before getting right back into the work would be a fair sight better than spending months healing an old wound. You would agree, sir?” He did not wait for a reply before addressing the acting captain.

“Mr Black, please excuse this man’s clear disregard for his body, as you can see he is of little use to the crew in this state. You would do well to give him pause.” Keep the well to yourself ‘sir’. But stay away from the ill, they’re mine !
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Ewen McClellan
Unregistered

He saw it now. It was a wonder that he had not seen it days ago. Though he could listen only by snatching the sentences from the movements of the men's lips as the sound of their voices was dim to him from where he stood, Ewen saw as clearly as though he was haloed for speculation that it was acting captain, Black, that the hostility was aimed towards. Every man was ill at ease and all humours were black, Black's darkest of all.

"Price!! Goddamn, are you sleepwalking or is this your usual pace of gait?" Black growled, or so he must have growled, though only the spiteful twist of his bully lip could suggest to Ewen that his words were rough. Too far was he to hear more than an unintelligible grumble.

"This is my usual pace of gait, Sir, when I get wounded in the battle and the doctor’s prescription is not taken into consideration!" retorted Price. Sarcasm. Contempt. "It hurts like hell, a wonder that I am still able to walk!” And then the doctor was involved. The whole scene unravelled before his eyes like a play, and the deck was a stage to him.

“Mr Black, please excuse this man’s clear disregard for his body, as you can see he is of little use to the crew in this state," the doctor interjected. "You would do well to give him pause." He imagined that face was normally gentle, but he sensed contempt. Contempt in every line. He was no expert with people, but he sensed things. He knew that it would snap like a taut string any day now. It was too strong.

It will be either downhill or uphill now, he thought. Where, I wonder, will I get caught into it?
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NPC

Civilian
[align=center] ROBERT BLACK, First mate[/align]

Robert Black needed all the men able to work and right at their jobs. Therefore, the doctor’s intervention didn’t sit well with him.

”No, Doc, I don’t agree at all! He can walk, therefore I need him on deck, doing his duty. We have lost too many men already in the fight. We are not at a fancy party here, we have to keep in check both the crew and the prisoners! If he feels like resting, he may rest as much as he wants in Nassau. But why do I sense that he’ll rest not in his own bed, but in the first tavern, drunk as a skunk?” he expressed his annoyance, while the man had already left to find that Sharky.

Then, he saw that Scottish gunner boy idling aorund in their proximity, and he scolded him too:

”Don't you have anything else to do besides eavesdropping to the others' conversations? A cannon to polish clean, or... something else more useful?"

He knew so little his men that he wasn't aware how bad McClellan's hearing was. Not that he would have cared even if he knew, though.

The acting captain was already steaming angry when that little critter, more of a monkey than a man, came and brazenly asked him why he needed him.

”You are slacking with the removing of barnacles, the ship is slower than a snail!” he snapped. ”You are losing precious time bringing the barnacles up to the cook... no more eating barnacles! The feast is over, go back to work! And if the boatswain’s mate is unable to supervise you that you are properly doing your duty, I will do it since now on, making sure that all the barnacles are removed quickly and that we arrive safely to Nassau with our prize! Go back to work, NOW!” he yelled.

”Damn, these Asian monkeys, exactly like the Negro slaves, know only of yelling and menaces in order to keep working,” he thought.


[align=center]This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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Shirai Masaki
Unregistered

Sharky sighed.
It had already taken the doctors intervention and a tremendous amount of english words to get the man to halfway understand, that no, Sharky couldn't clean the ship as quick asit wold have been cleaned with a proper careening and no, that Sharky was a good diver but still unable to dive for a whole day, several days in a row.
He hadassumed that the man who was replacing good captain Blade for ow had understood it the first time. But no such luck.
"Me is work."
the oriental privateer replied softly.
"But no man can dive day in day out. is too dangerous. Me tell you. Warase-san is tell you. Muh danger... and "Fates Hand" is be clean and quick. She no can be more fast."
He turned around and gestured to the pirates vessel.
"This ship, she no is sit much in water. She is sit only on top water. "Fates Hand" is sit deep in water, she large, heavy. Water is flow... under water, you know? Back from shore. Push back "Fates Hand", other ship no push back, for is sit on top water."
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Ewen McClellan
Unregistered

Ewen quickly realized that Black's temper had turned upon him.

”Don't you have anything else to do besides eavesdropping to the others' conversations? A cannon to polish clean, or... something else more useful?" Black barked at him. The man was utterly exasperated and Ewen felt as though to do anything besides immediately obey would be to begin a violent row.

Damn this man. We're reduced to troops in the army - all his pawns in some grand, stupid scheme, he thought. Vaguely guessing at an odd-job that might preoccupy him for a time, he clattered below deck. The footsteps and voices continued to thunder overhead, but now he was aware of a new sensation. The floor seemed to be shaking slightly in a rythym, and a faint noise, rather a strong noise except for his deafness, creeped up to him.

The pirates? he wondered distractedly. No words could he make out, just a simple, pounding chant - perhaps even less ominous than a chant, and merely a song to which they all stamped. Either way, the rythym seemed to patter an orison. Whose death? He grimly rubbed his hand and went on. It would fall one way or another soon.

Soon.

And then there was a pistol shot overhead. Like a dull thud in the back of the brain.
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Edward Wallace
Unregistered

Edwards’s eye’s narrowed and his top lip twitched into a sneer. His slow, deep breathes trying to calm the anger that welled in a pit, deep within his stomach. Such anger and assurance the man had not known for a long time. The fool will be the cause of his own death! He protects his back from men with an alert tentativeness. I hazard that his murderer will come from the front.

Edwards’s words slurred out in a grated hiss, unable to conceal the mutinous scorn in his voice.

“Good master Black, you would do well to practice caution. While I am in no way against you, a crew of the dead and dying will serve you in naught but hell. You are grinding this crew into the ground and the entire ship with it.”

He was fuming and the attitude of the acting captain was doing little to calm his anger- if anything it was fuel to the fire. Masaki’s broken English sounded from beside the doctor, who was turning on his heel, intending to go and brood in his quarters- a place of solitude where he doubted the captain would care of him.

"But no man can dive day in day out. is too dangerous. Me tell you. Warase-san is tell you. Muh danger... and "Fates Hand" is be clean and quick. She no can be more fast."

Edward nodded in recognition of the man’s reference.

This will not end well least of all for that pompous fool we call ‘captain’. Even I am finding it difficult to cling to neutrality. This man is a most convincing asshole.
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NPC

Civilian
[align=center] ROBERT BLACK, First mate[/align]


In his broken English, Sharky had explained professionally and logically about the difference in the two ships’ construction, with the related advantages and disadvantages of draft dimensions and displacement. But Robert Black was too angry now to see the man’s obvious reason, and Doc’s intervention, recommending him to take care and warning him about hell and „grinding this crew into the ground and the entire ship with it” added oil to the fire.

”Everybody got allied against me now? That’s mutiny, and it is punished by the articles! Doc, with all respect, step out of this mess! And I’ll make this lot of rabble to obey if you don’t encourage their defiance!”

His authority was challenged by his own men... unthinkable! The acting captain was already red with fury and trembling. He took a deep breath and, seeing that the sailor was still refusing to dive, explaining that it was too dangerous, he bursted out:

”This is insubordination, on top of criminal negligence and whatever you have done up to now. Price, tie him up, gather a bunch of men to the ropes and keelhaul him, to be an example for everybody!”

He didn’t have to ask the quartermaster – who was conveniently on the other ship – to approve the punishment. He wanted it here and now, to be an example for all the crew, and nobody ever to dare disobeying an order.

”Rogers, pipe all hands on deck... to witness the punishment!” he turned to the other boatswain’s mate.

Seeing that Price was still hesitating, Robert Black shouted:

”Damn, bossun’s mate, do your job or keep him company under the barnacles’ caress, you choose!”

There had never been such a strange day like today during this war. Only during the previous one, while he was still in the Navy, there have been a few... But that war had lasted far too many years.


[align=center]This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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NPC

Civilian

[align=center] Posted Image Posted Image
KEVIN PRICE and NEIL DONOVAN[/align]


Both Neil and Kevin shuddered, in their own way, when they heard about keelhauling – Kevin more, as he had been directly threatened to join the convicted in his punishment. They knew what it meant. If Neil had only met one man who had been keelhauled and had nasty scars to show, on his wrists, arms and back, Kevin, in his thirty years at sea, had seen a couple of times how it was done… and he had heard stories about enough men who died eaten by sharks or drowned in such circumstances.

Neil wasn’t worried about Sharky drowning, because he definitely could dive… but more scars besides the ones the damn Spaniards had inflicted to him? And what if he dies of fever after these new wounds? Or, if bleeding, what if the sharks come while he is tied and unable to defend himself? And, first and utmost, WHY? He had done nothing wrong… Was Black as black-hearted as the Spaniards, or even worse?

He threw Kevin a troubled gaze, almost asking for his help, and the man winked to him. He was definitely up to something.

…How could the Welshman not feign obedience when he saw that the devil had taken the first mate’s mind? But in his so many years with the privateers, Kevin had never seen such a blatant infringement of the articles directly from the acting captain. And if he got taught a lesson or not… the boatswain’s mate didn’t care anymore. An old seaman can take only as much offence and injustice as he already got. This was the proverbial straw breaking the camel’s back! Besides, the young foreigner had made his point clear, it was no negligence, it was only Black’s delirious madness!

He asked for three men’s help to immobilize Sharky, one of them being specifically Neil, who came, thinking again about the previous wink. One of the sailors stripped the unfortunate victim of clothing, while others passed a rope under the ship, from port to starboard. While he tied the topman’s hands, he made sure to slip his own sailor’s knife into Sharky’s right hand, then he checked the rope, asking Neil to tie his feet together.

Everything was done on purpose. Neither the hand binding, nor the feet were tight, by contrary, they would allow Sharky to move once thrown into the water. And what could a man do with a knife and with a heart thirsty for revenge, it was to be seen. Certainly the blood – anybody’s blood – wouldn’t be on the boatswain mate’s hands, he had washed up like Pilat in the Bible.

”Now the fate’s hand be with the ship and her crew!” the Welshman prayed silently, in his own way.


[align=center]This post has been written by ELENA[/align]
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