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Post by Carrow on Feb 17, 2012 11:46:59 GMT -5
Carrow remained silent as Caden knocked on Ocean's door, calling to the two mustelids who were inside. He wondered if the ferret would indeed be capable of rejoining them. He had been uncomfortable around him since the incident had happened - that is to say, even more than usual. He appeared to have no memory of who Carrow or any of his friends were, from the time he'd spent in Spender's company, and that was probably just as well.
Spender had forgotten everything that had gone on between the two, but unfortunately for him, Carrow hadn't. Neither had Selvis or Caden. Things would certainly be different from now on. Caden was soon with the mouse again, telling him they'd start in the common room. "That's fine - and I'm glad to hear it won't take you too much time to get your things in order, because I'm quite looking forward to getting back on the ship!," he exclaimed with a broad smile.
The rodent nodded as Caden told him that they'd be facing the Rosferians. "Ah, OK - sorry if it seems like that went over my head earlier, but I have rather a lot of things on my mind right now, and I'm excited about quite a lot of them," he told his friend, listening as he told him about Welkin being a little outnumbered. "Hmm...," he murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "That would seem to even the odds. It's going to be interesting, that's for sure," he responded with a game smile on his face as they neared the door to the dining room.
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"Ah, well, the Victory is quite a sight! No wonder you seem so eager to see it, as I can tell you that it is a fine vessel indeed. You'd probably have chosen it as your favourite if you'd seen it, and it's my favourite of the ships in our fleet that isn't the Agamemnon," he said with a wink. "As for your choice, well, I can't entirely say I'm surprised!," Selvis admitted with a chuckle. "I think the Welkannia is an extremely striking-looking vessel. It's hard not to be impressed by it, and I had a similar reaction upon seeing it for the first time myself, so I can certainly relate!"
He nodded at Scharnhorst's comments about the Princess Royal. "Whoever you've heard that from, you would be right. I've heard similar things from Ladorak as of late, as I've been asking him about the ships in the fleet recently, and my knowledge of them is increasing quite quickly - though with the Captain and Caden around, that's not entirely surprising!," he exclaimed with a grin, getting to his paws and stretching a little, as he'd been sitting for a while.
The longtail nodded again as the zorilla mentioned that he'd be willing to teach him German, his smile saying more than words could - not that he'd have had a chance to respond anyway, for as soon as the zorilla had finished speaking, Caden and Carrow came in, and the sequence of events that followed left Selvis in a spin. First, Caden told him that they would be setting sail tomorrow with intent to engage a Rosferian fleet... and then Scharnhorst committed, out of nowhere.
The longtail looked visibly surprised at this rapid turn of events; he hadn't been expecting either of these things, and it took him a moment for him to regain his composure. When he did, however, he turned to Scharnhorst and shook his paw. "Very well, then! You're enlisting as a Gunner's Mate! I don't need to say this again, but I will anyway: delighted to have you on board. And sure, yes - we'll all see you later. You can go off and get packed, and I'll do the same!," he said, a large smile on his face.
He turned to Caden next. "Ha! Good work, mate! I've been doing my best to convince him to join for months now, and then you come along with this news - thanks for helping Scharnhorst make up his mind!," he said, chuckling. "As for me, I've got to go and get my things sorted out, so I'll just take care of that really quick now, and I'll be back in a few moments! See you soon!," he told the pine marten and mouse, sprinting off towards his room.
Carrow smiled. "It's all go this morning, it seems," he commented. He noted that his albino companion was taking a moment to rest, and decided that he should do so as well, finding that he was quite full of excitement and spirit this morning. The shock of the news he had received in the last few moments had plenty to do with that, of course. He didn't spend most of his days in a trance-like state anymore, but owing to the amount of time he had spent on land at this point, it was usually around now that he started waking up properly. He'd have a little adjusting to do when they got back on the ship, in more ways than one, but he didn't mind that at all.
"Oh, I'm curious about some things, Caden," he said gently, trying hard to focus on what he wanted to ask his companion, as there were all sorts of thoughts going around in his mind at that moment. "Firstly, how have you been getting on with the musical instrument that Ladorak gave you as one of your Christmas presents? Have you had much of a chance to practice with him yet?," he asked, still smiling, before his expression became slightly more pensive.
"I wanted to ask you something else, too. I didn't really say anything about this before now, other than telling you about my promotion, of course - I needed a lot more time for it to sink in than I thought," he admitted, blushing slightly, "but... what do you think about my new role as Quartermaster's Mate? I'll be assuming it... tomorrow," he said in a very soft voice, almost incredulous. This had all happened rather quickly and he was trying his best to keep up.
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Post by Ladorak on Feb 17, 2012 13:27:24 GMT -5
"Well... that paper is letters from your family... I'll read them to you, if you want." the ermine said, picking up the letters and stuffing them in his pockets. "Here... have to refold those clothes if we're going to get them in the sack." he took the clothes out, and began to refold them on his lap.
"Those are your toys... you'd play with them... they belong to you... and I don't think you should get rid of them just yet." Ocean commented, watching as Spender casually let his fox doll tumble onto the ground. "How about this?" he suggested. "We'll hold on to them for now... and if you really don't want them after a month or two at sea, we'll mail them back home, all right?" he asked.
He looked over at the chess set. "THAT you should keep. It's a game your crew likes to play, and you can engage in a match with them. I could even hold on to it if it you don't want it right now." he offered.
"All right... now no more fussing about. Let's get packed and down to the docks. We're gonna go sailing!" Ocean exclaimed, smiling at his brother as he continued helping him pack (mostly packing for him, but that was beside the point).
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Selvis and Scharnhorst had gone off now. Caden knew that Scharnhorst would be an acceptable addition to the crew, especially because Agamemnon always seemed to have the misfortune of having at least a third of her crew on the sick list, and this month was no exception either. Ladorak needed all the paws he could get for an upcoming battle.
Caden listened to his mouse friend's inquiry, and couldn't help but suppress a smile. "You're starting today, mate!" the albino reminded his friend. "Quartermasters are vital in loading supplies while in port, so you'll be put to work almost right away, I wager." he stated, giving a wink. "But hell, we all will. As for musical studies... I've been doing rather well! Getting the mouth shape down, and I've played a few simple songs with Ladorak on his bassoon." the marten explained.
"All in all, I'd say it's coming along rather well. I'm looking forward to serenading you sometime with what I've learned." he winked. "As for how you'll do... just pay attention to the Quatermasters and keep that confidence out. I'm sure you'll do fine!" he exclaimed, patting the mouse on the shoulder. "Come on! Let's get packed and down to the docks!"
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"Well... if you want it in between mine and Christmas, it'd have to fall in October/November sometime." Ladorak commented. "As mine's at the of September. I must admit... now that we KNOW Caden's Birthday, I'm not going to be used to having his fall a month before mine. Oh well, we'll figure something out." he stated.
"All right. Down to the ship! Down to the ship! Chop! Chop!" he clapped his paws together, and started following the servants out of the room. Very soon, Livorno resembled an ant hill from the air. Crewjacks were threading their way through the streets to the docks, and small boats moved constantly back and forth between the shore and the ships in the fleet, ferrying crew and officers out to their respective vessels.
By daylight of March 9th, the fleet was putting to sea with a strong east-northeast wind. The ships formed into line of battle ahead, Agamemnon fifth in line, and began to make their way out into the blue Mediterranean, to their first fleet action since arriving in these more southern waters.
That night, the fleet received the most unwelcome news from their brig Tarleton that the 74 gun Berwick had been captured by the Rosferian fleet as it attempted to make its way toward Livorno. Captain Littlejohn had been the only one of her crew killed, decapitated by a bar shot during the battle. With such an inauspicious (and needless in Ladorak's opinion as they could've towed her to Livorno and avoided this) start, the Welkinite crews fell back into the routine of life at sea, adjusting their course to the northwest, as it had been learned from the Tarleton that the Rosferians were more north than originally thought.
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March 10th
The Rosferian fleet was sighted by the frigates of Hotham's fleet, sailing west in the direction of Cape Noli. The wind had shifted to the southwest, and the Rosferian fleet was observed to be beating or tacking back and forth against it, having turned back toward Toulon to seemingly avoid battle. Admiral Martin no doubt counted the number of three deckers present in the Welkinte fleet, and was doing his utmost to avoid combat. Hotham stood after them.
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March 11th
Sailing parallel to the Rosferian fleet, the Rosferians were again sighted to the southward by the Van Division, which was about five to six miles ahead of the rest of the Welkinite fleet. Both fleets were still sailing westward, with the wind at southwest, putting the Rosferians to windward, and giving them the weather gage. They declined to bear down on the Welkinites, and kept their current course.
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March 12th
The Rosferian fleet finally turned and began bearing down on the Welkinite fleet. When about three miles from the Van Division (with battle appearing imminent), the Rosferians turned around and hauled to the wind on the larboard tack, with both fleets still sailing in parallel lines to the westward, though not much progress could be made due to a heavy swell. When a fresh breeze from the southwest again put in its appearance, the Welkinites took the time to reorganize their battle line and get the Van back with the Center and Rear. By nightfall, the wind was squally, and one of the Rosferian 74s could be seen to have lost her main topmast, and she was subsequently detached from the fleet.
This brought both fleets to equal numbers. 14 to 14. The Rosferians tacked to just a little east of south very early in the morning, with the Welkinite fleet continuing to head west, though Hotham decided to use this opportunity to attempt to bear down on the Rosferian rear and overwhelm it.
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March 13th
8:00 AM
"OUT OR DOWN! OUT OR DOWN, LADS!" the strong roar of the Boatswain's mates resounded through the lower gun deck. It was the cry for "get up or get cut down." You had about ten minutes to do so, or the mates would peremptorily cut your hammock, spilling you onto the deck. The sleeping crew on the larboard watch would need to roll out of bed, truss up their hammocks, and dump them into their rails on the main deck, then get ready for breakfast.
The starboard watch was already up, having been working the Morning Watch from 4:00 AM to 8:00 AM. Today, Carrow, Selvis, Ocean, and the rest of the crew in their watch were on the larboard watch, having gotten the full eight hours of sleep the night before, sleeping from 8:00 PM to midnight, then working the Middle Watch from midnight to 4:00 AM, and back to sleep from 4:00 AM to now.
Everyhere on the gun deck, the crew began to stir and rise. Down below on the orlop deck, in the cockpit, Caden was doing the same. The marten groaned, rolling over and letting his paws find the deck below him. The last few days had been mostly uneventful, chasing the Rosferians all over the Gulf of Genoa. The Rosferians had annoyingly stayed to windward the whole time, making it very difficult for the Welkinites to catch them.
Sleepily taking his hammock off the hooks, the marten began to roll and truss it up. Back to work. What would the situation be like now?
Stumbling up the stairs to the lower gun deck, Caden put his hammock through the Boatswain's ring to prove it fit, and continued on up another two flights to the weather deck. Emerging into the sunlight, he squinted, hating the early mornings, as his eyes were far more sensitive to light than other beasts'. Looking about him, he noted that something was off. They weren't in formation anymore... in fact... aside from what looked like a frigate ahead of them, they were WAY out in front of the rest of the fleet! What the...?
It took him a moment for his brain to wake up before he decided to look at the signal flags at the stern. Aha! The signal for General Chase was flying! General Chase, in simple terms meant: "cut loose from formation. Every ship for itself. Every Captain will act according to how he sees fit to bring the enemy to battle." For Ladorak of course, that was EXACTLY what he'd been hoping for! No rules, and he no longer had to maintain his place in the line. The Agamemnon, being the fastest ship in the fleet, was easily outpacing the rest of her consorts. The closest behind her was the 74 gun Captain, and she was falling further and further back with each passing minute. Ladorak stood above them on the quarterdeck, solid and immovable. His eyes were fixed on the enemy fleet off their larboard bow.
Caden noted the wind was still from the southwest, and they were still on the larboard tack The Rosferians were heading south-southeast. That was good! Once they got into the wake of the enemy fleet, Caden KNEW Ladorak would tack in pursuit.
Dropping his hammock into the rails, he looked out toward the Rosferians. As he was doing so, he noted two of their 80s, both in the rear... one fourth, the other third from the back. They had just collided it seemed, and the third one from the rear had lost her fore and main topmasts in the collision, the two spars dropping like felled trees and creating enormous fountains of spray on her larboard side. THAT... might prove decisive!
Ladorak had seen it too, having been up early, not able to sleep much. With a disabled ship on the Rosferian side, it was time to go hunting, even if he was outgunned! It seemed he and Captain Fremantle, of the frigate Inconstant which was ahead of him, had the same idea. "Perfect!" he whispered, keeping his one good eye (now behind a monocle) fixated on that disabled 80. The wrecks of her topmasts would slow her down, and give her less than two thirds of her regular spread of canvas. She'd be a sitting duck.
Alleline, Scharnhorst, and Ocean were all up on deck now as well, stowing their hammocks and getting ready for breakfast, which was in the process of being prepared down below. The skies were mostly overcast, with patches of blue here and there, and squalls surrounding them on all sides, darkened areas of rainfall being visible on the horizon. They were currently in a blue and sunny patch, though that could easily change in the Mediterranean, which was notorious for rapid wind and weather shifts.
The smell of cooking food drifted up from below, filling the nostrils of the hungry crew, and soon, they'd be piped down to breakfast.
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Post by spender on Feb 18, 2012 2:31:07 GMT -5
Willard and Spender had decided to switch places.
Subconsciously, that is. Willard couldn't stand naps longer than four hours; he'd been up, lying in his hammock, staring at nothing, for the last four. He felt lethargic and unexcited, and yawned often while packing his hammock away. His body was still there, still brimming with potential energy to spend on tasks, but the spirit slumbered on.
Spender, meanwhile, had learned how to smile and couldn't seem to stop. Everything delighted him. There was precious little time on the ship to sit around wondering who you were and are, trying to play with toys when you couldn't remember what playing was. The fast pace of life meant he was often well behind everyone else, but he was finding that catching up was good for his mind. He still couldn't match faces to names, but he could rattle off the name of each mast and sail after only a few days, and they weren't even his division. His fork-paw still shook when he ate, he dropped his mug constantly, and twice a day forgot how to move up and down the stairs; there was no way he was going to be allowed to climb things yet.
Slouching weasel and perky ferret. Just about the only thing they had in common were their rumbling stomachs.
Molly had replaced her pillow with a bucket. She refused to get out of bed, except to head to the head. Her own head was killing her, she was sure quite literally. There was simply no balance at all, not on the sea. She never had a problem with it before, but now not even water stayed in her stomach long. Bed didn't work. Hammock didn't work. Hanging cot didn't work. Locking herself in an empty trunk in the dark didn't work.
She hated it. She couldn't read, she couldn't even open her eyes. She only allowed herself to eat oatmeal, on the basis that it felt the same going both ways anyway.
At least with a fever she could be too high to notice how she felt, but no. Every single moment of this dreadful voyage was experienced with perfect clarity.
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Post by Carrow on Feb 19, 2012 17:21:18 GMT -5
"Loading supplies, right," Carrow repeated with a small smile of his own. "I'll see how I get on with that - I might only be a mouse, but I can still help out!" He wasn't the strongest of creatures, not by a long stretch, but would do his best to assist with that. His physical abilities had however improved slightly over the course of the past year - the back-breaking labour on Bastia and Calvi had seen to that. (All that had indeed put pressure on the rodent's back, which continued to give him trouble every now and then.)
"I'm glad to hear you've been making progress with your English Horn - I would certainly enjoy hearing it! I'm sure I would also like watching you and Ladorak play, and perhaps Selvis could join in as well if ever the chance arose, now he's gotten his paws on a clarinet. I look forward to it," he said, his smile widening. "Oh, and of course, if I ever pick up an instrument myself, I could end up playing with possibly all three of you someday, you never know!," he exclaimed, with a wink of his own.
He didn't need to say much in response to Caden's encouragement; a simple, 'thank you', as well as a small nod and an even larger smile was what the albino mustelid received in response. Carrow appreciated any and all advice he received, especially when it pertained to matters concerning his new position. He appreciated the pat on the shoulder as well - he was always receptive to gestures like that; they were calming for him, in a way, and his friend's advice couldn't have been better timed.
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March 13th, 7:30am
Carrow was of course prone to having difficulty sleeping, but very rarely had those difficulties arisen out of sheer excitement. The mouse was rapidly getting accustomed to his new position, and had been turning things over in his mind for about an hour before the Boatswain's Mates roused the Larboard Watch's crew. At around 7:30, the rodent had sighed to himself - though in a contented kind of way - muttered a quiet, "Right, that's it," and left his hammock. There was no point just lying in bed - if he didn't feel like sleeping then it didn't feel right pretending to do so.
He knew breakfast wouldn't be served until around 8, but had the usual things to take care of before then anyway, so he set about them. Rolling up his hammock, he made sure he'd done every part of the procedure correctly - months away from things like this brought out his cautious side even more than usual as he tried to re-adjust to the routine, something he hadn't quite fallen back into just yet - before he started making his way towards the stairs.
On his first night back aboard the Agamemnon, the field mouse had found sleeping in slightly unfamiliar surroundings to be an odd experience - after so long away it couldn't be helped - and as such had to resort to his old techniques to help himself drift off. He'd rapidly gotten used to things again, however; there had never been any real danger of his old habits coming back, especially now a line had been drawn under the things which had usually kept him awake back then.
The rodent's hammock passed through the Boatswain's ring with ease, and he nodded in a satisfactory manner, proceeding up two further flights of stairs to the weather deck. By now, it was 7:40. (He had been very careful indeed with the first two flights, as it always took him a little while to adjust when up this early.) The mouse was far from his best at this time of the morning, but he was waking up quickly enough to notice that things looked different.
It seemed - no, it was definitely the case - that their ship was quite a way out in front of the rest of the fleet. He wasn't sure exactly what this meant; he'd need to wait to ask somebeast, so wait he did. He busied himself with dropping his hammock into the rails, and then ventured slightly toward the stern of the vessel. He needed the fresh sea air around him to help him wake up properly, and by 8am - at which point he could hear the calls of "OUT OR DOWN!" coming from below him, as the ship was rather quiet, not much activity ongoing at present - he was feeling more than ready to face the day.
A few moments later, he was joined on the deck by Caden, and he jogged back toward his companion, giving him a cheerful wave. "Good morning!," he called. "I've been up for a short while - didn't really feel like sleeping, you see. I was thinking about recent developments, and how the last few days have gone. I think what you said before we left really had an effect on me, so thank you," he told the albino marten. He gestured out toward the flags at the stern. "Do you know what those are?," he enquired. "I've noticed that our ship is out in front of the rest of the fleet, and I'm guessing these signals are related to that." Carrow still had more to learn, of course, but he was quite excited about it.
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Selvis, meanwhile, had gotten his second lot of four hours' sleep, but wasn't such a heavy sleeper that he needed to be told twice when the Boatswain's Mates came calling. As soon as their cry rang out, the weasel sat bolt upright and his paws soon found the deck. He was feeling quite energetic for a creature who had just come around, but that was because the high-energy longtail of old was most definitely back. He was learning that focusing on the hear-and-now worked best, and that was what he'd decided to do.
He trussed up his hammock and then set off on his routine. Here was a mustelid who had had no problem whatosever in readjusting to ship life - then again, for him, nothing in particular had changed about it, so it made sense that he had minimal difficulty in getting accustomed to things once again. It was almost like he had never left, and even though he was just going through the motions of the early morning routine, he felt quite good in doing so.
He put his rolled-up hammock through the Boatswain's ring, and from there, headed straight for the weather deck. Now that he and Carrow no longer slept in adjacent hammocks, there was no way he could have been aware that his rodent friend had been up since 7:30. On the mornings that the mouse had called off trying to sleep and headed upstairs early, Selvis had easily been able to detect the mouse's movements, though Carrow had of course tried to be as quiet as one would have expected from him. Little escaped Selvis's attention; if there was so much as a creak on the deck floors, or a creature nearby was murmuring in his sleep, the weasel usually caught it.
Even with one arm wrapped around his hammock, the mustelid was able to take the stairs at a jog, and by the time he came out onto the weather deck, he was wide awake. He slowed his pace after that, however, padding over to the hammock rails and dropping his into it. It didn't take long for him to spot that the Agamemnon was put in front of the rest of the fleet by a considerable distance, and Selvis rubbed his paws eagerly. It seemed that certain events which he had been anticipating were going to occur today.
Ocean, Alleline and Scharnhorst were all around the rails as well, and the longtail went over to them to say hello. "Good morning, you lot," he said with a smile. "Alleline, how have the first few days of being aboard our ship been for you?," he enquired. "And you, Scharnhorst?," he added, eager to hear about his new friends' experiences. He turned to Ocean then. "We're well out in front of the rest of our fleet, and..." He squinted slightly to make sure of what he saw. "... it looks like there are a pair of Rosferian vessels in trouble. I wonder if Ladorak knows about it,," he murmured. "Today could well be the day, then - what do you reckon?"
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Post by Ladorak on Feb 20, 2012 1:22:08 GMT -5
Caden looked over at his mouse companion, and studied the flags again. "Ah that. Well it's essentially '2 W N.' That series of flags flown together indicates 'General Chase,' which basically means the Admiral has given his Captains the order to act on their own and exercise their own judgment in how best to bring the enemy to battle. It basically means pursue the enemy and engage him regardless of formation. And thus, being the fastest ship in the fleet, we're naturally out in front, as Ladorak wouldn't have it any other way!"
It was here that Caden grinned up at Ladorak. "It's USUALLY reserved for a beaten foe, one that's fleeing. Kind of like a follow up and destroy after you've kicked your enemy's tail. But in some instances..." Ladorak looked down at them now, and smiled as tersely as he could at his ward, giving a small nod. "It's used to catch up to a fleet that's to windward, as the Rosferians are." the marten finished, looking back at the mouse.
"So that's why we're way out in front instead of fifth. Ladorak is using his discretion and judgment... and I'd say that big 80 gunner that just lost her fore and main topmasts has become his prey." Caden nodded out at the Rosferian fleet. Already, the Rosferian squadron was showing signs of reacting to the damaged 80 gunner. The massive 120 gun three decked Rosferian flagship Sans Culottes was backing her sails, dropping down the line slowly to reach the disabled ship, mostly likely to provide protection to her. The Rosferian Admiral certainly didn't lack courage, nor was he going to abandon his compatriots so easily either.
"Wow... she's beautiful... isn't she? The flagship I mean." He pointed. "She's falling back to protect the disabled 80. This... could be a heck of a fight. Knowing Ladorak... he'd probably go for the flagship." he chuckled, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "But we'll see what happens. Right now, it looks like we're gonna take advantage of the damage on that ship to catch up with her and tack in pursuit." he smiled now, thinking about it as it played out in his mind, like a moving portrait springing to life.
A little further down the deck, Alleline nodded. "Well, isssn't much different from my two voyagesss acrosss the ocean I've already made." the goanna explained. Except we're now heading to kill our enemy, he didn't add. And so soon!
Ocean shrugged, but did look at the Rosferian fleet. "Yes... looks like one of them got into trouble. "I'd say Ladorak knows... that's why he's pushing so hard to reach that spot."
"Yes... ze fallen wreckage vill slow zat ship down." Scharnhorst commented. "Make it easy prey. Zo taking on an 80 gunner... ze Captain vill hopefully have a good strategy for zat." he stroked his chin. "Ach, I'm settling in vell enough... soon I'll be down in ze magazine, sewing up cartridges."
"Order the crew to breakfast!" Ladorak called down to the Boatswain once all hammocks were stored and the canvas coverings were safely over the rails. The Boatswain gave a nod, and blew the signal upon his pipe.
"ALL CREW TO BREAKFAST!" he shouted out. "ALL CREW TO BREAKFAST!"
Ladorak took one last look at the 80 gunner, then headed down the stairs to his cabin.
"About time!" Caden explained. "Well then mate, I'll see you later!" he patted Carrow on the back, and began heading below for the cockpit, where of course he'd be dining. He rather DID miss his messmates, and eating with Selvis, Elle, and Carrow, but his life was that of an officer trainee now... and he had to accept that.
"Excuse me." Scharnhorst said, and headed off to join his own mess, which, without Polly, was Ocean, Willard, and Spender's mess. There were no restrictions on who could eat with who in a mess, though marines and sailors were usually forbidden from dining with each other, but other than that, petty officers could eat with sailors and vice versa, and likewise with warrant officers, though they usually chose to dine with each other rather than mingle with the crew. The Lieutenants of course dined in the wardroom, and the Captain ate alone in his cabin. That meant that, despite Carrow's promotion, he was still in Selvis's mess along with Elle, and now Alleline, to replace the departed Caden. Likewise could Scharnhorst eat with regular sailors like Ocean and Spender.
Ocean moved over to Spender and Willard, Scharnhorst joining them shortly after. "Morning there, chaps. Who's mess cook this week? Willard, are you still doing it?" Ocean wondered aloud, his mind still coming awake from the rather nice sleep he'd been having up until ten minutes ago. "Just get me everything. Coffee, bread, whatever else they're serving... unless I'm mess cook. And no vegetables!" He said, shaking his head. No alcohol for breakfast of course. That was only allowed at dinner and supper. When it WAS served, one of Carrow's new duties would be assisting the Quartermasters in mixing it up on the main deck, as it was also part of their duty to ensure the alcohol was mixed properly.
Alleline turned to Selvis, and waited for Carrow to join them. "All right then..." the goanna stated, placing his hands on his hips. "Whatcha all want?" he was mess cook this week, and would be taking orders. "Coffee? Meatsss? Bread? Cheessse?" Alleline had to admit... in relation to the food being far better than he expected (he was used to rotten food on long voyages), the food on board these warships was rather fresh and good. And another thing he liked too was that the tobacco was given out free of charge! MUCH better than on a merchant vessel! One simply had to approach the Purser's store and ask for a twist or two.
And... another delight to him was that sailors COULD smoke... they just had to do it on the forecastle only, where the wind would be blowing any hazardous ashes off into the sea, coming from generally behind the ship after all. So while chewing was mostly encouraged, smoking WAS allowed, and that was something the goanna appreciated.
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Ladorak entered his cabin, a few stewards moving about and getting his table ready for dining. He ignored them, and headed into his sleeping berth. He was momentarily forgetting the battle for now. "Dear?" he asked, entering the sleeping chamber. "Are you all right?" he asked Molly worriedly. "You've been sick for most of the voyage. Are... do you think it's a permanent thing?" he asked, looking at her sadly from behind his monocle.
How ironic... he finally married a jill that wanted to be at sea with him... only to have her suffer an injury that seemed to permanently throw off her balance. Would they ever again have each others' backs in combat? Would they ever again be able to sail together on voyages like this? Would she... need to return to Welkin?
"I'm sorry. I wouldn't have had you come if I realized it would be like this." he told her sympathetically. "They're getting ready to serve breakfast soon... do you... think you can keep food down?" he asked hopefully.
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Post by spender on Feb 20, 2012 8:53:48 GMT -5
"Yes," said Willard. "Sure. No vegetables."
"I want fooood!" Spender burbled. "I want... colour... blue cir... circle."
Willard blinked, covered up a yawn, and said, since he honestly couldn't hear a word the ferret was saying, "I'll get you what you like. Jal Scharnhorst?" He took the zorilla's order and puttered off robotically to wait in line.
Spender followed the other two to their table, letting them do all the work of setting up. He tried to watch and learn, but was distracted by something splotchy on his chest. He held up the bottom end of a large lime-green neckerchief, marveling at the myriad spots and stains: mementoes of meals past. He wondered where it came from, why it was around his neck; had it been there all this time? It most certainly had. Someone had helped him tie it before sleep last night, so that he wouldn't forget it in the morning.
"This smells n...nice," he mumbled. Loudness was a problem for the ferret. He had two volumes: mumble and shout. Nothing in between. This made talking to him frustrating, as even when you did crane in to hear, the words were still slurred, mispronounced, stuttered, and oftentimes simply nonsensical.
So far he'd avoided getting upset enough to launch into a fit, but it was just a matter of time. The novelty of ship life would wear off and the harshness would seep through his sunny disposition. Already he'd been smacked a few times for sloth and failure to understand an officer's orders—some things, at least, never changed. But where before a smack had been just another tick on his list of reasons to dislike the ship and everyone on it, now a smack was incentive to do better and remember not to do what it was that he'd been smacked for. Provided he knew what it was in the first place.
All in all, he was adapting wonderfully, given his cognitive skills.
"Hullo," he said, once they were all sitting down and waiting for Willard. "Muh n...name's..." Grin. Nod. Nod. Nod. Still grinning. "Ahah, I dunn know. O-kay, my turrrn. Your name's... C...C...aden," he said, holding his paw out to Scharnhorst to shake. "And your name's..." Nod, nod, nod. He knew this one! "Coffee." He held out his other paw. "O-kay, now guess m...muh name!"
Willard came back with the meals then. Spender threw up both his paws above his head, cheering.
"YES!" he shouted. "BLUE CIRCLES!"
Willard almost dropped the brown wooden plate with Ocean's food on it.
"Mm," Molly said, shifting a little to indicate she was not yet a corpse. "Maybe. Kasal says it's my inner ear. It's all loose still, I guess. I didn't know I had more than two ears."
She cracked an eye open and smiled a little. It took her a few swipes, but she eventually got her paw to latch into his, and squeezed it.
"It must be my birthday already... I see two Ladoraks." She shut her eyes again and groaned. "No... no food. Don't even mention food... and don't be silly. I would have come even if I'd known it would be twice as bad. I'm going to fight with you... Tie me to the mast and put a rifle in my paws, if you must. I'm just saving my strength 'til then. Are we close? How soon until we're in range? What ship are you going after? I bet it's all of them... Mm, but don't worry about me. Tally's taking good care of me."
The mousemaid's ears and eyes peeked from under the covers at her name. Though socially awkward and usually quite blissfully ignorant of going-ons, Tally's upbringing was kicking in. She was born and raised to wait foot and paw on someone too lazy to scratch their own stomach; serving Molly was a walk in the park.
"Molly needs soup," she said.
"Don't listen to her," said Molly. "If I'm going to eat, I'm going to eat Spender's oatmeal and cheese mixture. Something that will stick to the inside of me like glue and never come out until I die."
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Post by Carrow on Feb 20, 2012 18:18:06 GMT -5
Carrow nodded every now and then as Caden explained the significance of the flags to him. "Ah, I see! So we're making the most of the opportunity we've been given, and have been given permission to go after the obvious target, which is of course that struggling 80-gunner ahead of us. That's a smart move, I reckon! You're right, though, I don't think Ladorak would have passed this chance up even if things looked considerably more difficult. Heheh, he knows an opportunity when he sees it!"
Carrow had his eyes on the progress of the Sans Culottes as well, and he gulped visibly as he saw the flagship heading for the disabled vessel. It appeared that the Welkinites were going to have quite a fight on their paws, and while Carrow relished the prospect, he was slightly nervous about about the upcoming encounter, even if he was far from the near-nervous wreck he had been on the night of their first action against the Melpomene.
"I quite like the look of her, yes," he responded to his albino companion, finding he was unable to take his eyes off the ship. It was a rather imposing sight; beautiful but also quite deadly. "That vessel is a flagship any country would be proud of. I think this fight could be more than I was expecting - I certainly hadn't reckoned with two Rosferian ships colliding with each other and providing us with easy prey, but this evens things up a bit," he murmured, smiling a bit. He knew he'd have new responsibilities this time around, but knew also that there wouldn't be much room for error.
The plan played out in the field mouse's mind too as he was told it by his pine marten friend. "Sounds like a good strategy to me, yes. Whatever happens, I'm looking forward to engaging the enemy. I have to agree with your assessment of Ladorak, though - certainly, if I were in his position and felt like taking a risk like that, I would go for the flagship too," he admitted with a small smile. The ermine didn't lack courage, though, so it made sense that he'd try something similar.
The two friends then heard the call for the crew to be piped down for breakfast, and Carrow licked his lips, quite looking forward to having something to eat. For all he knew this could be his last meal for a good few hours, so intended to make it a good one. He couldn't help but smile as Caden said it was 'about time' they ate; he shared those sentiments, of course. "Sure, I'll see you soon!," he said brightly, appreciative of the pat on the back, as always. He began heading back down below - even though he was used to not dining with Caden anymore, he still missed being able to do so, and rather a lot some days.
--
Selvis, meanwhile, made a mental note to ask Alleline about his other voyages when he got the chance to do so. The rather fantastical tale that had been the monitor lizard's life up until now had impressed Selvis greatly, and he was quite eager to hear more about it. Ocean seemed to be correct about Ladorak's plan as well, as Selvis was realising that the ermine was indeed trying to get to the stricken 80-gun vessel. "It'll be another while before we get there, at this rate, but yes, you're correct it seems. It will be an interesting encounter, that's for sure."
Scharnhorst then pointed out that the wreckage could be useful in slowing the ship down. "Ah, hadn't thought of that," Selvis admitted with a shake of his head. "You're right, of course: a collision like that is bound to make things even more difficult for her," he acknowledged. "I mean, considering she's lost a pair of topmasts... she'll be slowed down quite a bit, by my reckoning." His zorilla friend then told him he was settling in well enough. "Glad to hear it - you're getting used to it quite a bit quicker than I did, if I recall right," he said with a small chuckle. "You're working in the magazine, all the way down THERE? Wow," he remarked, "that must be an interesting experience!"
They heard the order to head down for breakfast when it was given, and Selvis quickly went over the recent changes to the mess arrangements in his head, It was going to be him, Alleline, Elle and Carrow from now on, he reminded himself, He missed Caden, but he rather liked the goanna, so that helped to soften the blow of losing the pine marten, at least to a certain extent.
Scharnhorst made his departure, and the longtail told him that he would see him later, before leaving for his own mess with Alleline. Selvis hadn't eaten much at supper the previous day; he had felt slightly out of sorts, but that had soon passed, and now there was no intention of him skimping on food. He was ready to attack some victuals rather fiercely. He'd always had a good appetite, and this remained the case, occasional blips aside.
He mentally readied his order, and it was then that his goanna friend turned to him and asked what he wanted. There was quite a choice on offer, as usual, and the longtail wanted to go for a bit of everything this morning, feeling like he had nothing to lose just so long as he could keep his food down. He didn't suffer from intense pre-battle nerves like Carrow sometimes did, but they came and went - last time he'd had so much on his mind before taking up his position as pawspiker that he'd almost completely collapsed.
"I'd like a little of all of that, please, Alleline," he responded politely. "I feel like I'm in need of some coffee this morning, and bread, meat and cheese sounds like a great combination!" He licked his lips, and it was at this point that Carrow arrived. The mouse was feeling much better for his short while spent on the weather deck on his own earlier - he had difficulty shaking off sleep some mornings, but today had been different.
"Good morning, you two," he told the goanna and longtail, smiling at them. "Are you taking orders now, Alleline?," he asked softly, having heard some of Selvis's response. It was nice of the monitor lizard to take their orders up here, as it saved time for everybeast involved. "If so, then I would like some coffee, some meat, cheese and vegetables, please," he requested. The mouse was feeling quite relaxed at present, but then the atmosphere at breakfast always helped to calm his nerves.
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Post by Ladorak on Feb 21, 2012 0:16:41 GMT -5
Ladorak smiled as she mentioned seeing two of him. That was a rather invigorating thought! Two Ladoraks... though they'd have to be on the same page mentally at all times. "Hmmm." he hummed thoughtfully, thinking. His sleeping quarters were on the starboard side of the ship... thus the gun port faced away from the Rosferian fleet, but he didn't need to see them to remember their formation.
"I'd estimate... about three hours. Tops. At the rate we're moving, we'll be upon them sometime between ten o'clock and eleven. It's a little after eight, now. Unless the wind shifts, we'll be there before noon easily. They're about... twelve or so miles off, by my estimate." he informed her. "I've selected my target as a rather large 80 gunner that's beginning to drop out of formation thanks to a collision. She's lost her fore and main topmasts, and I'm willing to bet I can get alongside her before they clear the wreckage from her larboard batteries. That will mess them up real good." the ermine grinned.
"There is of course... another thing." he said, as if remembering something important and considering it. "The Rosferian flagship... big beast of a warship, 120 guns, is backing her sails. Probably trying to drop down the line to help out the disabled 80. IF I'm adequately supported by the rest of the fleet, I fully intend to take the Agamemnon into an engagement with her. If we can surround her with several warships, we should be able to overcome her." the ermine laid out his plan as smoothly as if he were the Admiral of the fleet himself.
"However... if that IS the case... I want her striking to me!" he finished, grinning now. "Anyway... I'm glad to know you'd be here even if it were worse. If you... feel like you can keep food down, by all means... I'll be right next door for the next forty-five minutes or so." he said, moving his paw over to the door to his dining room. "Otherwise, just rest up, and we'll be there in between two to three hours." He told her softly, and moved his head up to hers, nuzzling her before pulling back, smiling, and moving into his dining quarters back-first.
Shutting the door, he moved over to the table, sitting down as it had been set for him. He glanced out the gun port to the Rosferian fleet. Smiling to himself, he shifted his attention back to the table as his breakfast was set out in front of him. Eggs, quite a bit of them, scrambled with bacon (he had bought some hogs in port), bread, cheese, and coffee. He was loading up now, and might even order seconds, as he wasn't sure when they'd be eating again.
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The tables were set up, and soon, the crew was filing onto the lower gun deck for breakfast. While it was usually a lighter meal for them, the Captain had ordered extra rations out, as it was possible that dinner would have to be skipped today. The coffee was already being brewed, the biscuits being boiled into that froth that constituted part of the sailors' coffee.
Ocean had just situated himself when his brother nearly knocked over his meal. The mustelid's arm flew out, steadying the plate as he looked at Willard with satisfaction. "Close one there, mate." He said, taking his plate and looking at Spender with pursed lips. "My name isn't Caden. Nor is his coffee." he pointed to Scharnhorst. "I'm Ocean... I'm your brother... remember?" he asked, looking down at his meal. Not bad. Pork (as usual) with bread (and butter! The army didn't have such luxury!), oatmeal, cheese, and fruit. The fruit was still fresh, as they were less than a week at sea. "Your name is Spender. I've known you for... years." He said, nodding at the ferret.
"Thanks, Willard." Ocean said now, and began to dig in right away.
"Ja, danke." Scharnhorst added, and began eating his portions as well. The steaming cups of coffee created swirling wreaths of mist everywhere on the gun deck as crew began sitting down to their breakfasts. Soon, this deck would look quite different, as it would be transformed into a fully operational gun battery, ready to hurl death and destruction at its opponents. The tables would be back in the ceiling, and sand would be all over the decks to absorb the blood. The galley fires would be doused as well, and not re-lit until combat was safely over with.
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Alleline had collected the orders from the Purser, and had brought it all topside in the sack, and soon, the cook was busy boiling and steeping the meat, and getting the coffee cups filled. Their meat numbers were called out presently, and one by one, the crew came up to collect their meals.
The goanna settled down with his food, eager to dig in. "Well, well, here we are. Breakfassst before the big day. Or at leassst... what we hope isss the big day. We've been chasssing them long enough, after all." He looked out the gun port, admiring the enemy fleet from afar. "Sssso... you fought any battlessss like thisss?" he asked. "What'sss it like?" He began working on his food at a slow pace, taking the occasional sip of coffee as he listened in.
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Post by bookity101 on Feb 21, 2012 9:45:42 GMT -5
Elle woke from a dreamless sleep easily. It had become her practice to be able to roll out of bed as quickly as possible- even when they were stationed on land. That habit served her well when it came to getting ready when the orders came for them to get up that morning. Quickly she trussed her hammock up and made her way to drop it off at the rails. Pausing just for the amount of time that it took to prove that she had not forgotten how to properly truss up her hammock she made her way to the deck.
She spotted her friends standing by a rail, but instead of joining them she choose to approach the rail at a different angle. From here she could look lean on the rail and watch the ships they were chasing. Her snout wrinkled at the thought of what was bound to happen in the next several hours, even as her mind created a sketch to be recorded if she ever had the time. Unlike her male companions she was not anticipating the battle to come; battles contained too much sound and too much blood in many cases for them to be exciting for her. She understood that they were necessary… she just wished that she could wear ear plugs during the course of the engagement.
The tables had been set for breakfast and the orders been given to come eat so she figured it was about time she joined them. With one last look over her shoulder to add the final touches to her mental picture she followed quietly down to the mess table. She took her seat just as their new messmate returned with their food. Still quietly she began to eat, wrinkling her nose appreciatively at the smell of the coffee as she took a sip, choosing to allow Selvis or Carrow answer the question posed by Allenline.
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Post by Carrow on Feb 21, 2012 14:02:53 GMT -5
Selvis's eyes lit up as Alleline returned with their food. There was a sizeable amount of it before his eyes, and he smiled a little as he realised that extra rations had probably been served, knowing that their next meal could be as much as eight or nine hours away if they did indeed engage the enemy, which was looking increasingly likely as time went on. "I've been looking forward to this, in a way, for the past few days - not that I ever anticipate events like this too enthusiastically, but these things will happen and nothing good comes from simply dreading them," he responded to the monitor lizard.
"If it has to be today, then I'm not going to complain; I may as well put everything I have into my duties. I'm one of the pawspikers on the gun crew, you see," he explained as he started making inroads on his meat. Chewing and swallowing in small portions, he spoke after he had started on his meal and drank some of his coffee. He liked that particular beverage as it had just enough of a kick in it at this hour of the morning. Carrow had started eating in silence, but his friend's comments compelled him to add a little to the conversation.
Elle had joined them, and the mouse acknowledged her presence with a broad smile; he was going to try and talk to her later if he got the chance as there was something he needed to discuss with her. First things first: "Ah, yes, I won't be on the gun crew any longer," he told the others at the table. "I'm a Quartermaster's Mate now, after all, and I'm going to have different duties from now on," he added, smiling a little to himself as he rather relished carrying out those duties. He hadn't had long to get accustomed to things, but he was doing well enough.
Alleline then asked them what it was like being involved in battles, and Selvis looked visibly animated when he heard the goanna's query. He really enjoyed talking about things like this. "It's quite an intense experience - I'm not entirely sure I can describe it very well, as it really does need to be felt to be believed, but yes, we have been in battles before, and they were quite different from each other. In late 1793 we had some action against the Rosferian vessel Melpomene, and we all had to be at our best, of course, which was a big ask considering we were roused around two in the morning for it, but I'd say we managed well enough.
"I'll tell you one thing, Alleline - I've never experienced heat quite like the kind that can be generated during these battles. Down on the lower gun deck, where Elle and myself serve on the crew, it can get really hot in there, really quickly, and you need to keep well hydrated. I'm used to things being hot, of course, considering the climate I've gotten used to, but it takes its toll on everybeast after a while, and can become kind of oppressive. I don't think it was as much of an issue the first time we fought, but, well, the second time was worse."
He nudged Carrow, wanting to let the field mouse take that one. Of course, Selvis didn't want to be the only one speaking to Alleline, but he had other reasons for letting his mouse companion jump in - the second time had been terrible for him. He'd had that discussion with Caden that had completely destroyed his confidence and plunged him into depression for a few weeks after they'd come back to their ship - he'd barely been able to get his head straight in time for the battle - and talking about it meant he had to revisit those painful times.
The rodent, who had been simply listening in and munching away on his meat, swallowed his food and had some more coffee before speaking, feeling himself perking up a little more thanks to the nice breakfast he was having. "Oh, good grief, don't even get me started on that! I had to rush back and forth between where we had the water casks set up, and my station on the gun crew, every time I'd gone through my routine!
"That second time was last June, and that was the first time we'd been involved in a fleet action. Caden, Selvis and I - we enlisted on the Orion and were transferred over to it after we'd left Bastia. Ladorak went too, in fact, although he didn't really want anybeast aside from us knowing about it," he said with a chuckle and a small wink.
"It was quite a different experience to what we'd been used to, and now, again, we're involved in another fleet action, only this time we're with our home fleet - I think that's what makes it so exciting! Have you been thinking about how it might be?," he enquired. "Oh, and remind me again, if you would, as I've been dealing with so many other things since we got back aboard that it seems to have slipped my mind - what position are you taking on the ship? I know Scharnhorst is trying for Gunner's Mate, but what about you?"
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