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Post by Ladorak on Jul 24, 2010 10:40:13 GMT -5
Horace Dorian, otter Gunner of the HMS Agamemnon, stood before the assembled gun crew as they waited at their posts silently for instructions. Caden was up front on the left of the gun, and Elliot was right behind him. Carrow was across from them on the gun's right side. Selvis would be behind the gun and slightly to the left, on Caden and Elliot's side.
Spender would be sitting on a barrel behind the Gunner, next to one of the Gunner's Mates. The gun they were standing around, fourth from the bow on the larboard side, lower gundeck, was tied down and not at quarters, its tompion still shoved into its mouth. "Right lads! Today we begin gunnery exercises!" the otter exclaimed excitedly. They were sailing in the Cobalt Sea now, the weather perfect and the fleet learning the routine the more the days went on. This would be this particular gun crew's first lesson however.
"Now be advised that in actual combat, I will NOT repeat NOT be directing your fire or giving you commands. That will be up to the Midshipjacks and the Lieutenants, who will be down here with you in combat. I will be down in the magazine, preparing the cartridges and making sure that the flow of powder from the magazine to the guns is kept up during battle by the powder monkeys or powder boys as we like to call 'em. My mates too will not be present, as they will be standing at the stairs directing the powder carriers to their guns. So while I may train you, chances are that unless you're a powder carrier, you won't actually see me during combat." he explained. "You will be listening to the Gun Captain, the Midshipjacks, and the Lieutenants."
"Alright so, let's say the Beat to Quarters has been sounded. Enemy fleet on the horizon! Given the wind speed, we've now got anywhere from four to six hours before we come within range of the enemy, provided they're not steering directly at us. If they're steering directly at us well...anywhere from one to two hours. So the first orders you'll here will be CLEAR FOR ACTION!" he shouted, his voice echoing on the deck. "Depending on WHERE you are at the time, you'll be given tasks by either a Midshipjack or a Lieutenant. Clearing for action can be any number of things. If it's night, the hammocks need to be restowed up on the weather deck to act as bulwarks against enemy fire. If you're on the gun decks somewhere, chances are you'll be busy spreading sand all over the floor in order to better give it some friction...as there WILL be blood washing over the deck, and we wouldn't want any of you slipping on it. You might be taking down the partition in between the gun room and gun deck, or you might be helping to set up barrels of fresh water throughout the deck as let's face it...battle is thirsty work. I'm not here to train you in any of that...just know that clear for action means you'll be doing something first, and then reporting to your gun."
Caden took this in. Right...spreading sand down...that was gruesome but necessary. "OK...so you're now all at your gun. Your Gun Captain is here, who will be partially played by me. We've got a few hours yet so the first thing you'll hear from the Midshipjack shouting down the decks from above will be SILENCE! You can all guess what this means." he said, and most of them had a good chuckle at this. "It means NO talking whatsoever, so that we all can hear the orders being given to us. It should sound...like this." he said, pausing his speech to listen to the quiet solitude of the deck around them. "OK good!" the otter exclaimed. "Now that everyone is quiet, let's move on to the next order. CAST LOOSE YOUR GUN!"
"OK what this entails...is this. Loader and Sponger! Caden and Carrow! Look down below you, and see how the ropes tying the gun to the wall are connected via a fishhook and eye? Undo those please, and paw the ropes over to the crew on either side of the gun, which said crew will just hold on to for now. After you two do that, you two will next open the gun port by pushing outward on the panels, and they should just pop right open. After THAT, I want um...the two pawspikers which would be Selvis and the other fellow to reach up, get the pawspikes down from the ceiling, and lay them next to the gun. Carrow! After assisting Caden in opening the gun port, reach up above you and retrieve your sponge and rammer please! Like Selvis and the other lad, lay those tools out beside the gun. OK so let's run through this. CAST LOOSE YOUR GUN!" the Gunner shouted.
Caden immediately got to work, reaching down for the block and tackle and sliding the fishhook out of the eye. He almost dropped it before remembering he needed to paw it over to the auxiliaries on either side of the gun. Thrusting the rope into their ready paws, he placed his paws on the gun port, ready to push it out and open along with Carrow. "Ready mate?" he asked the mouse across from him.
Meanwhile, Horace was busy fixing the gun lock onto the gun. This would normally be done by the Gun Captain in combat, but he was filling in for said beast for training. The Gunner carefully fitted the lock into its slot on the side of the cannon, where it would snap forward when the lanyard was pulled and strike its flint against the metallic frizzen, producing sparks which would ignite the powder when the gun was ready to fire. Having fitted the lock in place, he waited for the rest of the crew to complete their first set of orders.
As this was going on, the Gunner's Mate tapped Spender on the shoulder. "Alright you...follow me. I'm taking you down to the magazine so we can go and get some powder. Get off that barrel and let's go. Your job is to keep powder flowing to the gun in combat, so let's get on that!" the Mate, a burly looking grison, started off to the stairs leading down to the orlop deck at a steady trot. "You'll need to do this before you hear this commands. As soon as you here the beat to quarters playing out, make your down to the magazine, got it?" the galictis asked the ferret, looking over his shoulder at him.
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Post by Carrow on Jul 24, 2010 19:02:17 GMT -5
Cerinus Apodemus had greatly enjoyed his time in Ferlusan. After being told that his new friend, Selvis Frenata, had been accepted into Agamemnon's ranks, he had spent the remainder of that trip in high spirits. In fact, now that he thought about it, those few days had had him feeling the best he had in quite some time. The sightseeing had been wonderful, and he had to admit that he had been left momentarily speechless in the wake of the bullfight he had witnessed. The bravery of that creature in the ring, and the way they had taken their life into their paws like that, had made quite the impression on him.
He was kept busy for the majority of his stay, taking in Crittenden with Selvis, Caden and Elliot, but there had been something in the back of his mind the whole time he had been on land. Or rather, someone: Archie. He had promised that he would write to her whilst in Crittenden, but he'd scarcely been able to find the time, to get a couple of moments to himself so he could let her know how he was doing. On the last day of the Welkinites' stay, he had succeeded in finding some time alone, however, and he'd nipped off, paying for writing materials, which took a little out of his remaining money, but not all that much (at least, not in relative terms).
And so it was that the wood mouse had sat down that afternoon, taken quill in paw, and begun to write to his carer. He had been so excited about finally doing this that he was worried that he would write faster than he could think, but the rodent had no such difficulties in the end. He wasn't overly fond of long letters, but then again, the two had not spoken in what was rapidly becoming four months - in fact, he was quite certain that that length of time would indeed have passed by the time the weasel received the correspondence. I'll write what I need to, he told himself: no rambling, and nothing that doesn't serve a point. So he wrote, and when he was done, he looked at his output:
Dear Archie,
I'm so glad I can finally write this letter! I'll be honest and say I've been thinking of you quite a lot as we've been out here. How are things back home? You holding up alright? I know, it seems strange that I, of all creatures, should be asking that question, but I really do wonder about you sometimes, I have to say.
Life aboard the Agamemnon is even better than I expected. I'd never have thought of myself as a creature who'd enjoy time out on the open sea, but, well, I've fallen fully under its spell! It's great to wake up every morning with the wind ruffling your whiskers - less so the sound of one of the higher-ups stirring us from our slumbers, but you have to take those sorts of things as they come I guess!
I say 'us', but I can't really include myself amongst the group of creatures that would get a regular, decent night's sleep. My sleeping pattern, as you know, is... irregular, and as to that there have been no changes. Even despite your suggestion, there are some nights where I'm so tired I can't manage a decent induction... but then I close my eyes and I can't sleep... Do you know of anything else I could do? I really do need a little more help...
Anyway, on to more cheerful matters! We recently met a new creature here in Crittenden. He's a long-tailed weasel, just like yourself - AND he has blue eyes... meaning I can't help but think of you when I see him. Funny how things work out, isn't it? His name's Selvis Frenata, and he's a very chipper weasel and no mistake! And get this: he's Ferlusanian but wants to serve aboard Agamemnon! (Or the 'Eggs and Bacon' as it is known on deck.)
He put his proposal to Ladorak a few days ago, and our Captain agreed to take him on! I'm really rather pleased about that, and I look forward to serving with him. Caden is getting along rather well - I'm sure you recall me telling you about him! We have another marten on board too: a beech, who goes by the name of Elliot. Said he was Elle's sister. I like him as well. So there's us four, and then there's a ferret called Spender Cielciosk. I do my best to tolerate him, but he can't stand me. I'll leave it at that. I'm still here I suppose.
It's nice to be able to speak to you again, and even though seasons only knows when I'll get a response, I'm just checking in with you, and I greatly look forward to the day when I am handed the envelope in which said reply is contained.
Hope this reaches you in good nick!
Magpie
--
It was now a few days later, and the youngster stood with the rest of the gun crew, listening intently to the otter gunner's instructions. He was trembling visibly, but he couldn't care less who saw it. He was scared about what lay ahead. Carrow hadn't pawdled a weapon in his life, and being told that he would need to start doing so rather soon didn't sit well with him. Add to this the fact that the rodent was starting to go through changes - he had hit puberty much earlier than expected - and it was safe to say that he wasn't in the best particular place at that point.
Carrow knew the symptoms quite well: hair growth, the deepening of his voice (a gradual process, though he was sure that his pitch would remain significantly higher than the others on board, as he was after all a mouse), increased hormonal activity that led to moodswings, or more violent moodswings in Carrow's case, as it was well known that he suffered from a remarkably changeable demeanour; as well as some less visible ones. He had hit puberty nine whole weeks before his thirteenth birthday.
As it was on the ship, though, he was *already* thirteen, so to all intents and purposes it was as though the long-tailed field mouse were reaching puberty later than was normal. It was very easy to hide one's true age on deck; much easier than, say, pretending you were an entirely different gender, as in a female masquerading as a male in order to serve aboard ship. This was a thought that kept crossing his mind at the oddest times - little guessing that there were at least two creatures on board putting on that self-same performance.
He was nervous about this, alright, and he was having difficulty trying not to let it show. He glanced over at his weasel friend, and the while remaining mindful of the otter's words. Selvis seemed to be taking it all in just as well as he was, only the mustelid wasn't panicking about it at all. Good for him, Carrow thought, before turning back to face Horace.
When the otter had given out instructions for what needed to be done first, the rodent stood ready. He was tense, but also slightly impatient about this whole affair, and so he soaked everything up, and when Horace gave the order, he snapped to, going straight for the block and tackle. Just like Caden, Carrow had slight difficulty with grasping the fishhook. His nerves were definitely showing, but he composed himself for long enough to take stock of his position. He passed it over to the creature on his other side, then placed his paws on the gun port, nodding slightly at Caden's query, even going so far as to offer the pine marten an anxious smile. "As I'll ever be I suppose..." He stood ready, waiting for Caden to lead.
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Post by Ladorak on Jul 25, 2010 8:37:37 GMT -5
Caden pushed upward, working with the mouse to open the gun port. The shutter swung open easily enough, and then the marten and the mouse worked to push the lower shutter down. Sunlight and a breeze immediately filtered in, revealing the sparkling blue of the Cobalt outside their walls of wood. The light played over the mustelid and rodent, and allowed fresh air to cool them as the rest of gun crew were going about their tasks.
"Famous!" Horace exclaimed. "OK, now Carrow, reach up to those hooks above you, retrieve your sponge and rammer, set them beside the gun, and Selvis and Ralph, you two hurry and get your pawspikes down from the ceiling and set them next to the gun as well. Come on! Chop! Chop!" the otter declared.
Ralph Peskers, who was the other Pawspiker along with Selvis, looked across at him indifferently and reached up to the ceiling, which wasn't very high above them. Only about five feet or so. Taking the long wooden block of wood that served as a pawspike in her paws, the ferret unhooked it and laid it down beside the gun. She tried to whap the departing Spender with it as she purposely swung wide, but just barely missed the back of his head. Blast it! Next time...
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Post by Carrow on Jul 25, 2010 9:12:36 GMT -5
Carrow's trembling was becoming less noticeable by the moment. The mouse was good at carrying out orders; they gave him a sense of fulfilment that was unfamiliar to him but he enjoyed rather a lot nonetheless. So when he pitched in with Caden to open the gun port, the wood mouse felt his anxieties lift for a moment. He felt himself being cooled by the breezes, and he smiled slightly to himself,
This smile widened when he heard Horace praising their combined effort. Any sort of praise helped a creature like him, and it gave him a confidence boost that he rather desperately needed. His head was abuzz with all kinds of thoughts, but being asked to carry out tasks like these was helping him to focus. He was well aware of the job at paw, and glanced across at Caden, his eyes seeming to say, well, maybe this won't be so bad after all.
The otter's voice reached his ears again, and he went straight to it. Granted, it was a tad bit difficult as he was easily the most diminutive creature on board and still in rather skittish mood, but by standing on tip-paw he managed to reach in and take the required objects in each paw, rammer in his right paw and sponge in his left. Making sure he had a good grip on them, he acted swiftly, placing them down beside the gun with an ease that disguised the fact that he was still a bag of nerves.
No amount of reassurance would fully convince the Dibbun long-tailed field mouse, it seemed, but he was intent on pressing ahead regardless of the circumstances. he stood at ease, shifting his gaze from the rammer and sponge to the efforts of his weasel companion. He was interested in seeing how the mustelid pawdled the job that lay ahead of him, knowing that, physically at least, the longtail was in a better position.
Selvis had been watching Carrow's motions intently, waiting for the rodent to place the objects beside the gun. Once the young creature had done so, he moved like lighting, reaching up above him and securing a good grip on the pawspikes he needed. He had studiously ignored Peskers' glance at him, only thinking of himself for the moment. It was obviosu that they would need to work together, but the ferret clearly didn't seem all that fussed about teaming up with her fellow mustelid.
The weasel had resigned himself to the fact that it would probably be him that brought the enthusiasm and work ethic into the team. Peskers seemed not to be bothered all that much by Dorian's orders. Selvis was planning to perform to the absolute best of his ability, however. he took his pawspike, unhooking it and setting it down next to the gun, close to Carrow's rammer and sponger. He flashed the mouse a brief smile, *his* eyes sending a message as well: You're going to be alright, mate. Just listen to the Gunner and do your best.
All the same, he couldn't help but feel a little concerned about the rodent's wellbeing. He seemed to be on-edge and nervous most of the time, and the longtail could see that this particular disposition wasn't doing his new friend any favours. He'd have to have a word with him once this was done, because he knew in his heart that he couldn't stand idly by and watch Carrow fret his way through his time aboard the Agamemnon. His stress issues seemed to be wearing him out, and this was not a good sign...
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Post by Ladorak on Jul 25, 2010 21:27:26 GMT -5
"OK! Gun is now cast loose! Excellent! That's step one! Step two will be shouted out as TAKE OUT YOUR TOMPION!" the otter raised his voice again for everyone to hear. Other gun crews were practicing to their right and left as well, and they were all at various stages of learning these steps. "When you hear that order, Mr. Caden will reach over and give the tompion...that thing that's jammed into the mouth of the gun...a good yank and let it hang by its lanyard. While he does that, I...filling in for the Gun Captain, will be attaching the train tackle to the rear of the gun carriage and the bolt on the deck amidships."
He held up a rope for all to see now. It had tackles on either end of it. "This rope here prevents forward movement of the gun, and the thick rope wrapped around the cannon itself is called the breaching rope. That prevents backward movement of the gun so that the gun stays relatively stable for the loading process. OK so let's gives this a try. Caden...when I say so, just give that tompion a good yank...it'll come right out. So...let's do this. TAKE OUT YOUR TOMPION!"
Caden's paw jerked like a lightning bolt, almost banging on the barrel of the gun itself. Grasping hold of the lanyard on the wooden "tompkin" as the sailors pronounced it, the albino give it a good yank, the wooden plug popping out of the hole to dangle below the gun.
Horace was meanwhile attaching the tackle of the train to the eye on the bottom of the gun carriage, then stretched the rope out so that the other fishhook could attach to the ring amidships. With the train in place, the otter turned back to the crew. "Almost forgot, now that the train is in place...I need the auxiliaries to pull on the ropes that Caden and Carrow pawed you. Pull until the gun will not move anymore."
The crew on either side of the gun did as they were told, heaving on the ropes and pulling the gun back until it stretched the breaching rope taut. "And easy does it! That'll do! Good! The gun cannot move forward or backward now...observe." the otter walked up to the back of the gun and placed both paws upon the breach, pushing against it with all his might, but the train tackle kept the gun from moving even an inch forward. "See? She's secured so we can load her in peace. Now then...that's instruction number two. Number three is LEVEL YOUR GUN! When you hear that shouted, you two...Selvis and Ralph." he pointed at the ferret and long tail.
"You two are going to pick up your pawspikes, jam them into the slots on either side of you...right about were you're standing at the bottom of the gun see and LEVER that baby up!" he stressed the word lever. "Those things are basically giant levers, so push down on them with all your might and raise the back of the gun up as high as you can get it so that I can reach in there and place the quion...which is this thing." he held up a block of wood for them to see. "So that I can place the quion under the breach of the gun to level it out. Once the quion is in place you jacks can let go. Oh and do NOT crush my paw...I still have uses for it after all." he said, eliciting another chuckle from some. "Right now the muzzle of the gun is pointing up, and the breach or back is pointing down, we need it level for loading, so the Pawspikers are going to level it for us. Remember to keep her steady until after the quion is in place OK? So...get ready and...LEVEL YOUR GUN!"
Peskers picked up her pawspike, and slid it down into the slot at the bottom of the cannon. She looked over at Selvis, waiting for him to be ready before she'd work on pushing down on this thing in order to lift up the gun's breach. "Ready whenever you are long tail." she told him, using her best jack's voice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Down on the orlop deck, one deck down, the grison Mate was standing with Spender in front of a canvas curtain that was soaking wet. "Don't ever try to go past here, got it? The Marines or Yeoman will stop you. In here is the magazine, filling room, light room, and such. It's where the ship's powder is stored. You'll be running down to this curtain in the heat of battle and..." as the grison spoke, paws of the other Mate who was on the other side of the curtain poked out, holding a wooden saltbox out to the ferret, on top of which rested a wooden cylinder. "Be pawed the cartridges. There are two in that box, and one in the cylinder. Put the box under your arm, hold the cylinder by the rope on top of it, and walk these good back to your gun."
He waited for the ferret to take the offered items. "Go on, I'll be right behind you. Once you get up there, set the goods down next to your crew mate Elliot, the Assistant Loader. Then you'll be done until you have to come back down here for more. During actual combat you will be dashing constantly back and forth between here and the gun, got it? It's up to you to keep the powder flow up. If you're not up to it you'll have to do something else. Like work OUTSIDE during combat...but I don't think you'd want that." he grimaced.
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Post by Carrow on Jul 26, 2010 5:28:33 GMT -5
Carrow's head was abuzz with many thoughts, as it had been for the previous few hours, but now those thoughts were starting to get themselves together and become focused - much like the mouse himself. He was working at a frantic pace, even though it seemed he was standing still. Carrow was not idle in the slightest; he was trying to process all this new information that Horace was imparting to the crew.
He was relieved to find he would be getting a small break from the tasks, and so his thoughts turned to Selvis and Peskers. The pair of mustelids stood poised, ready to make their next move. Before that, though, was Caden's next job, and Carrow watched in silence as his pine marten friend as he dealt with the tompion. He was really taking to all this, it seemed. Even though this seemed to be as new to him as it was to every other gun crewbeast present, he was taking to it like an otter to water.
The wood mouse was looking around him now, taking everything in, a luxury he had not been afforded up to this point. Things were happening at a rather fast pace, but he was doing his utmost to keep up. He knew that if he was caught napping, or fell behind, or even made the slightest mistake, he was lost - not of course that he would be punished too harshly for a minor offence, but that in reality the long-tailed field mouse saw this most of all as a confidence-building exercise, and if he screwed things up even slightly, his blossoming self-belief would take quite the blow.
He was making sure to fire on all cylinders, so he stayed where he was, the trembling becoming even less visible now as he began to relax into his role. His eyes strayed to the ferret and long-tailed weasel again, aware that Horace had mentioned the pair. They were next up, it seemed. His friend had pawdled his first task quite well, and now the rodent was wondering how he'd get on with this new task.
Selvis was wearing a small yet confident smile as he zeroed in on the otter's voice. His ears pricked up as he heard his name being mentioned, and he took in his instructions without so much as the twitch of a whisker. Okay... so levelling the gun came next. Ah! So *this* was where the pawspikes came into play. His smile widened slightly as he picked up his and jammed it into the slot, of course letting his teammate go first. He still believed in notions of courtesy, even in these most unusual circumstances.
With the first part of the task taken care of, he glanced over at the ferret, tipping her a wink, once that indicated he was in rather high spirits at that stage. He loved this! There was something so thrilling about being able to carry out these instructions - and then when he did, the sense of reward was well worth it! Then the longtail nodded at Peskers, silently indicating that everything was in place for the leverage of the gun.
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Post by spender on Jul 26, 2010 9:55:11 GMT -5
"If you're not up to it you'll have to do something else. Like work OUTSIDE during combat...but I don't think you'd want that."
"Why not?" Spender said hotly (though under his breath). "That sounds better'n carryin' junk around..."
He wasn't sure what a Yeoman was, but it sounded scary. The way those paws just popped out of those curtains like that... eurgh. He'd done that to his sister, once, when she was in the bath. He'd nearly gone deaf, he was sure, but the eardrum-piercing squeal was nothing compared to the paddle across his backside. Of course his father had taken him down to the pub for a "good on yer" pint afterwards, because, as Seige had put it, "somebeast's got to put prissy jills in their place. Next time, drop a frog in the tub."
And this box was slippery! Why couldn't they just give him three canisters? They were much easier to carry, what with the ropes. And up these stairs! How was he supposed to do this?
"Pick up the pace!"
The ferret's footpaws scurried. At the top-most stair, he picked the pace up too far, and somehow his tail was tangled in his knees and --
The box went skidding. He scrambled after it, fearing the beating that should be coming any moment now. With his tail perfectly puffed up, he set box and canister down beside Elliot.
What now? This was boring! He didn't want to go get another box or anything, he wanted to play with the cannons. Why did he always get the stupid job? Even if he was good with running around (most of the crew, on their leisure time, slept extra or took it easy. Spender took off like a rocket around the ship, dooking and pinging off walls whenever there weren't officers around to see him.) it didn't mean he wanted to do it when neat stuff was happening elsewhere.
And Peskers was giving him that look again! Ugh. It was so creepy. Half the time it looked like Ralph was wishing he was dead, and the other half it looked like Ralph had stuck a pudding down his shirt and was secretly rubbing it all over his belly with that dopey, blissful expression... that always changed back to the dead-wish one when Peskers focused on Spender again.
What a weirdo.
It almost made Spender wish there were more Carrows and Cadens around instead.
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Post by Ladorak on Jul 26, 2010 13:39:29 GMT -5
Peskers sighed. I was waiting on YOU to start she didn't say, only nodding at him and rolling her eyes before pushing down as much as she could on the pawspike. Together, the two of them managed to lever it up. "Hold it...hold it...hold it..." they heard Horace saying as he shoved the quion into place. "And let go!" Peskers eased off, glad that was over. The cannon was now perfectly level, pointing straight ahead.
"And that does it! Ah! Here's our powder carrier now. How did he do?"
"A bit clumsy coming up and we'll have to see how he does on time, but otherwise he was alright." the grison Mate responded to his boss. The otter nodded. Peskers stifled a snort.
"Very well. Make him do laps then. See what his time is and if he can find the proper gun. We need to test him out. For now we're good with powder. We have three cartridges to expend. Good work then Spender." the otter said in praise of the ferret.
"Alright you...let's go do that again. Here." he pawed the empty cylinder to Spender and moved a bit away from the crew. "What I want you to do is test your speed. In battle you're going to need to be running back and forth from the magazine to the gun in order to ensure the gun has powder with which to shoot. So I'm going to be following you. As fast as you can...I want you to spring back down to the magazine, exchange this empty cylinder for another one...which will be empty of course as this is only practice and the gun is good on powder for the moment, and run back up here, got it?" the grison asked him. "You can start whenever you're ready. And do try and be accurate. If you screw up too many times you'll be assigned elsewhere...to less savory work. Either the rigging getting shot at, the pumps breaking your back keeping us dry, or the magazine itself preparing the cartridges. So try to keep this job if you can. Less dangerous that way." he muttered.
"Alright, that's the gun leveled!" Horace was saying as Peskers was lost in that dreamy pudding rubbing expression staring at Spender. "Next order of business is simple enough. When I shout LOAD WITH CARTRIDGE, Mr. Caden will shove that canvas cylinder he's holding in his paws down the muzzle of the gun, with the seam facing downward if you don't mind." The albino quickly adjusted the cartridge in his paws so the seam was pointing down. "Now after he does that, Mr. Elliot will give Mr. Caden a wad...which are those pieces of cord bound together to look sort of like a clump of hay sitting next to you in that net basket on your left." the otter pointed to Elliot's immediate left to a net full of the wads. "So as I was saying, the Assistant Loader will paw a wad over to Caden, who will shove it down the barrel on top of the cartridge."
He turned to Carrow. "After that, Mr. Carrow the Sponger will receive his rammer from his Assistant Sponger, thrust it down the mouth of the gun, and give the wad and cartridge several good rams to ensure they're snug in the chamber. I'll check to make sure it's there with this little doohickey." he held up a thin copper wire that came to a point on one side with a handle on the other. "This is a vent pricker. I jam it down the vent and if I poke the cartridge bag I know it's in the chamber. If I don't feel anything I'll give the order RAM AGAIN and Mr. Carrow will need to reinsert his ram and give the wad and cartridge a few more thrusts. And that will wrap up this order, once I feel the cartridge in the chamber. Mr. Spender will normally be standing at Caden's side with the box, and close the lid once Caden has taken the cartridge out. However, since we're not really in battle, we're going to be testing Spender's speed first to see how fast he is and if he's capable of keeping up a good pace. After he's done, he can rest on the barrel amidships and wait for further instructions."
Turning to the ferret before he departed, the otter explained one last thing. "At the start of the battle you bring three cartridges with you. You stand by the salt box and open the lid whenever Caden needs a cartridge, and close it after he takes it and back up to amidships where you wait until they need the next cartridge. Then you step forward, open the box again, close it once the cartridge is removed, and then drop the box and run back down to the magazine for more. Good...now get on that run!" he ordered.
"And let's get the crew prepped for this next step. Ready and...LOAD WITH CARTRIDGE!" Caden snapped to the task, shoving the canvas sack full of powder down the mouth of the gun, not worried if it went down all the way or not as that was Carrow's job. He held out his paw for the wad from Elliot, as that would be the next step before Carrow could shove his rammer in there.
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Post by spender on Jul 27, 2010 7:41:19 GMT -5
Agh, they wanted him to run some more? But he'd already carried the box and canister up! What a gyp.
Well, okay, he could do this. He could do this! Without tripping, this time. And the canister was much lighter, too. This wouldn't be so bad! He could just be pretending to chase something, something... his shadow! A worthy opponent, to be sure. Darn shadow, always beating him in the morning. But Spender always bested it by evening.
Of course, this depended entirely on which way he was running.
He was about to launch off again when he heard the otter talking about him.* He tensed up, his mind immediately emptying of most facts he'd been turning over and over. Um, um, um, um! Okay, he could do this now, um, canister, cylinder, box, yeah. Box!
Spender grabbed the box and bolted.
The grison Mate grabbed him by the scruff and pried it out of his paws.
"Now hold on! No one told you to bring that back." Muttering under his breath, he put the box back carefully, and followed the blushing ferret down again.
Spender made fair time—not great time, but good. His heart was in the right place—trying to leap out his throat, judging by the sounds he was making. The poor mustelid was all fat where he wasn't fur or bone; his body jiggled up and down as he sprung around like a slinky, tottering side to side on his two hind legs.
Ferrets were not the most purposeful of mustelids; their role was nature's clown. Even when they ran on all fours their arched back caused bouncing problems that ended with them sliding out of control into walls and corners. This Spender did often. But what he lacked in speed he made up for in acceleration and persistence, and once having knocked his head against something, he didn't pause to shake it off before pushing against the wall off towards his goal.
All in all, he made it to the powder room and back with only four new bruises, one of which was his pride.
* Otters, like mice, were not animals that Spender enjoyed being around, let alone being ordered about by. It was just Horace's luck that he was a great deal bigger than Spender, or else Spender would have trounced the fool for thinking he could push him around.
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Post by bookity101 on Jul 27, 2010 12:01:00 GMT -5
Ellie groaned as she stepped into the morning light. All the yelling at the bull fight had given her an awful headache and sleep hadn't made it go away, in fact, it was worse now. And Mr Dorian's shouting wasn't helping one wit either. She stayed silent throughout though, not wanting to get into trouble by disobeying the silence order, and not wanting to distract her crewmates from receiving their orders.
She watched as the gun was leveled, the tompion removed, and all the other little things that made the "gun go boom" in her young cousins words. Ellie was actually almost confused as to what was going on, as she had taken to watching Carrow and the other crews around them. Then she heard her "name" and instructions attached to it. Hay? She glanced down and to the left as the otter mentioned it. Her mouth formed a surprised "o". She hadn't noticed it... this headache must be messing with her perception as well, since she was almost standing in the thing...
"That's easy enough." She muttered so that maybe Caden would hear, maybe, as she went through and made a mental list of all the things that lead up to her pawing the wad to Caden as she grabbed the said hay-lookalike;
"Clear for action do whatever is closet to paw, Silence means shut up, fast." She straightened as Mr Dorian continued speaking, still talking to her self;
"Cast loose your guns, Caden and Carrow get it set up, I stay out of the way..." She glanced over at Ralph and Selvis settled back to watch. "They all grab their tools, Caden pulls the tompkin out." Pronouncing it likethe sailor did she glanced over at Horace as he was still giving orders to the others, so she continued her monologue;
"Level your gun, Ralph and Selvis lever" SHe added stress to the word like Horace had;"The gun up till its steady then the GUn Captian doe... something." Ellie stooped alittle to get a look at the quion, having missed what Horace did at this step. :Spendy appears, then works with Caden to get the cartriges..." She glanced at the paw Caden had just thrust towards her and she happily stated the last step so far. "Load the cartrige, I paw Caden my hay-wad." She carefully thrust the wad into his hand then backed away waiting for orders.
((HA! finally got a post in..)
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