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Post by Ladorak on Mar 4, 2012 20:18:47 GMT -5
"Ssso even before thisss he landed himsssself in hot water, eh?" the goanna asked, shaking his head. "I guessss it doesssn't ssssuprissse me that he ended up doing thissss to himssself." here the lizard rolled his eyes, placing another of the eighteen pounder shots into the garland.
"I guessss all thossse ssstoriessss you're told assss a kid about dangersss like that aren't entirely falsssse." he stated, hefting another shot up. "Ssstill... hold on... still..." he tried, coming out with less of a hiss. "It'sss... it's at least seeming like he might not find his way back, as you said." The hissing was still there, but it was far less pronounced.
"I agree about this scenery. It's gorgeous!" he exclaimed, looking out the open hatch to the semi-clear skies above them. "This is certainly the life I could get used to... I think I'm going to sit right here on the edge of the hatch on my time off... well... after the combat, of course." he stated, pushing the last of his shot (you couldn't carry all that many after all without hurting yourself) into the garland.
"OK... let's head topside and see if there are any garlands up there that need filling... I'm sure we'll run into a few." he suggested, heading right up the main companionway and out in the peaceful (as Selvis had put it) day. There were of course shots out here that needed cleaning and scouring, and the lizard set to work immediately gathering up the twelve pound round shot into his basket, keeping a steady eye on the Rosferian fleet, which had grown in size (due to their increasing proximity) since last he'd been on deck.
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"Hmmm... His image... as a soul. Yes... I think I can see that." Ocean stated, nodding. "We settled that dispute after the Thirty Years' War, after all. Which species were saved and which weren't. As it turns out, we all just decided to say ALL species were saved, and tolerate the differences amongst our religions. I have to say though... rather bizarre to see Rosferia fighting on the side of the Protestants. You almost NEVER see that in history." Ocean said, sticking out his tongue.
"Cardinal Richelieu knew what he was about." Caden spoke up now, overhearing their conversation. "He knew how to keep his nation strong and afloat whilst making alliances with whomever was best for Rosferia at the time. Cardinal Dubois did the same thing, after all." the albino pointed out. "War of the Quadruple Alliance. 1717."
Ocean nodded. "Right... the third of the four great Cardinals of Rosferia. Richelieu, Mazarin, Dubois, and Fleury." he commented, as he knew his Catholic history. He listened now as Willard told him something about Spender. The ermine decided to keep his own voice low as well when responding.
"While I agree with you on that there mate... it also goes to show how unsuitable for work here he really is. I hate to say it but... Caden was right to get rid of him. If he can't keep up... he slows the ship down. We need to keep pace after all... and this is fairly simply work. If he can't do this without figuring it out... he's really no better than an infant, I'm afraid." Ocean said in a low tone. "This is a warship after all... not a nursery."
He shook his head, and rolled another scoured ball Willard's way. "At any rate... can't be down here if he's going to be like that. He's got to show a modicum of intelligence, after all." Ocean muttered, taking another shot out to begin wiping it down.
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"Right... and once again, this is more of a Boatswain thing than anything else, and you've probably noticed this whenever we've tacked, but the foresails all stay facing the wind, whereas the yards on the main and mizzenmasts are turned to catch the wind as we start coming about. The foresails take the wind head on, and hopefully serve to push the bow of the ship onto her proper course for the tack before they too join the rest of the sails in catching the wind." the Quartermaster explained.
"Well... we've got her on her new heading now. Those ships are getting bigger with each passing second. Got a strong breeze helping us right along. This is how you get to an enemy that's sailing to windward. Just slowly working on coming up either in front or behind of them and then tacking to pass them by or follow after them. In our case, we're doing the latter. The Captain intends to tack and chase after that big 80 gunner that's lagging behind the others, I'd wager."
By now, the Inconstant was beginning to exchange distant shots with the Rosferian frigate that had bore down on her. The Rosferian ship had turned whilst still some distance away onto a larboard tack, and was heading now for the 80 gunner, most likely to take her in tow and get some speed going. But Ladorak had his quarry set, and there wasn't any way he was going to let a frigate interfere with that.
The distant rumbling of the guns sounded almost like thunder, though it was growing louder by the minute. "That's gonna be us soon. We've got a degree of protection, being just under the overhang of the poop deck after all, but we're more exposed here than on the gun decks, as down there at least, you got thick walls of wood between you and the enemy's fire. Here it's a bit more tentative." the rat explained.
"Anyway... we can relax a little until the next command, and just keep a steady eye on the compass and the sails to make sure our course doesn't change or the wind doesn't shift, though on a day like today, that's not likely. Always good to be on your guard in the Mediterranean though, as the winds here are extremely fickle." the Quartermaster warned.
"So... any questions you have on the operations of steering the ship, and what it is we do?" his fellow rodent asked, turning the deck over to Carrow now, as he wanted to give the rodent a chance to catch up and ask any pressing questions he had.
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Post by Carrow on Mar 5, 2012 19:47:01 GMT -5
Selvis nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, I should say so! If I didn't know better, I would say there were some times before his accident that Spender went looking for trouble. He's about a year and a half behind on his promotion - last I heard of it, at least - because of all the various... shall we say, incidents that he got himself into," the weasel explained. "I won't elaborate on any of those... unless, of course, you really want to know," he said, continuing to place the 18-pound balls of shot into the garland. He found he had to be careful.
"I wasn't surprised either when I heard the news, in all honesty. It was unfortunate at the time, and it's even more disappointing to see him like this now, even if he and I never got on. As much as some would rather that this were not the case, first impressions still count for quite a lot sometimes, and the first one I got of him... didn't exactly portray him in the best light." Not to put too fine a point on it, he added silently. "There's getting off on the wrong paw and then there's... that."
He cleared his throat as he finished unloading his remaining shot. The mustelid had been able to carry just the right amount: not too little, as that would have been too easy on him, and yet not too much either as he would probably strain his back in that scenario - he'd had some back issues at the Glorious First of June, but figured that enough time had passed between then and now (nine and a half months at this stage) for them to recede into insignificance. He'd to be at the top of his game to carry out his job as pawspiker later on.
"Ah, you've been converted then, I see!," Selvis responded with a smile as he heard Alleline outline his plans for later on. "It's a great life here - might not be the easiest by any stretch of the imagination, but it's certainly rewarding. I think I will join you up here after our battle, because this is becoming one of my favourite spots on the ship. It's not very hard to see why, either." Selvis was taking a small breather after helping to stock the garlands, but the conversation kept flowing.
He and Alleline seemed to be getting along rather well together, and Selvis was rather glad this was the case. The lizard was the sort of creature one would be glad to have on their side when times got tough - he looked like a resilient sort (why wouldn't he be, after all the things he'd gone through?, he thought). He might have been to hell and back (quite literally, to hear him tell it), but he'd survived, and Selvis was pleased about that.
"Oh, there will be some garlands to be filled up there, I don't doubt that," the longtail said with a small smile as he followed his goanna companion up the main companionway. "That sort of thing can't just take care of itself, as you well know. Since we're a little exposed up here, I'm sure we'll be back in a few moments after we've dropped off some shot for scouring and cleaning." The weasel was right. There were indeed a few, and he helped to lighten Alleline's load by taking some and placing them into his own basket.
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"I have noticed that, yes," Carrow responded with a small smile. Sometimes it paid to be observant, and even if all these things that occurred were too much for him to take in at times, it was often the small things like those which the Quartermaster was referring to that stuck with him. He listened as the rat guided him through the process of tacking. He didn't need to concern himself too much with that, as said, but it was nice to know all the same. He liked these kinds of things, even if they sometimes passed right by him if he wasn't concentrating hard enough.
He nodded vigorously when the rat supposed that Ladorak had that flagging 80-gunner in his sights. "Oh, well, if I know anything at all about our Captain, he knows an opportunity when he sees it, so I'm with you on that one, sir!," he exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch a little, in an excited manner, and for a moment it sounded like he was 12 years old again. "From what I could see of him earlier, he looked rather determined, I must say," he said with a chuckle.
The mouse felt a small shiver pass up his spine as his sharp ears picked up the rumbling guns, intensifying it in a way. He looked out to sea and could see Ladorak's struggling quarry, and he wondered just how different things would look in an hour or so's time. The field mouse nodded once again, though this time in a slightly more nervous fashion as the rat outlined their position. Last time, he had been down on the lower gun deck, but things would be different now.
He listened as the rat gave him permission to relax; he needed it, as he had been on high alert for the last while. "All right, sir. I'll make sure to be ready for any further commands we get, though," Carrow said gently. Those extra twenty minutes he had taken for himself earlier in the morning were really displaying their benefits now. How he felt about his new position varied from one day to the next, especially when he was on the job, but he was finding it quite enjoyable today. "Oh yes, sir: you're right about these Mediterranean winds - they have a habit of changing from one moment to the next; I've been noticing that more recently," he informed his superior.
He thought a moment about the rat's question before slowly shaking his head. "I don't believe I do, sir. You're doing quite a good job of explaining things to me so far, and I'm doing my best to keep up, which is about as much as I could have asked for, mainly because of the circumstances in which we find ourselves... with the upcoming conflict, and all. I would say that I am fine for now; I'm impressed that I'm able to keep my mind on things like this, considering we could be engaging our enemy in..." He looked out to sea again. "Little more than an hour, at this rate, surely?"
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Post by Ladorak on Mar 6, 2012 11:12:16 GMT -5
"I've got it mate, thanks." Alleline said, holding out a hand to stop Selvis from taking his shot. "These are twelve pounders after all... not quite so heavy." he said with a smile.
"A whole year and a half behind his promotion.... that's some serious list he's got built up." the goanna shook his head incredulously. "Can hardly believe that myself. How does one even WANT to act up that much under a Captain like Fugate?" he asked, looking over in the ermine's direction. "Way I see it... if the Captain treats the crew well enough... they should at least reciprocate."
He picked up his basket now, sorry to leave the brilliant outdoors behind him... but it was back down they needed to go. No time to enjoy the occasional sun and breeze, after all. "Of course I've been converted." the goanna stated proudly. "This is about the only thing I actually CAN do that I know about. I mean what's waiting for me back home? An empty, most likely repossessed house? Poverty and scraping by to survive in the streets? No way... when there's a war going on... what better way to serve your country?" he asked, picking up the noises of the two frigates exchanging gunfire off in the distance.
Alleline paused here to look out to sea, wanting to catch a sight of the action. "Aw... 's just the frigates. We'll be making a louder noise than that when we get up there!" he exclaimed with determination. "Anyway..." he started down the companionway again. "As I was saying... it's a way to make myself useful. The food is WAY better here than on a merchant ship... though the pay ain't quite as good, but uh... don't spread that around." he said, looking back over his shoulder at Selvis now. "Navy's gotta keep all its beasts, after all. However... I think I like it better than the merchant marine. There you gotta have some skill... you learn quickly or get crushed. Here it's kind of similar, but at least they TEACH you all that you need to know. In the merchant marine, it's really up to whatever Captain you have and if he's in a teaching mood." he said, shaking his head.
They reached the hold after descending the stairs several flights, and after getting a nod from Caden, unloaded the rusty shot for Ocean and Burton to scour.
"Hey... let's take eighteen pounders and twelve pounders this time." Alleline suggested. "Can hit the main and upper gun decks this way then." he began loading some of the finished eighteen pounders into his basket, taking about three of them, and two twelve pounders. Seventy-eight pound load so far. He hefted it a little, and nodded. "Should be able to manage this." He murmured. He put one more twelve pounder in his basket for good measure, an even ninety pounds. He was bigger than Selvis of course, and didn't expect Selvis to be able to carry as much as him. "All set?" he asked.
"Has it been three bells yet?" Caden broke in, interrupting.
"Uh... yes sir... has. About... ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago tops." the goanna explained, to which the albino nodded.
"We'll probably be clearing for action soon... that's why I ask." The lizard nodded, and shifted his attention back to Selvis.
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"Right you are!" the rat Quartermaster said after studying the distance. "I'd say... just a little over an hour at absolute maximum." he commented.
"Hour and five minutes by my count." Ladorak said. "We'll be clearing for action soon... and after we do, I'll be tacking immediately to chase that ship down." he informed them. "Crew's going need to be ready to move like lightning." they were drawing ever closer to that 80 gunner, having closed the distance to less than five miles. The 80 gunner was massive... being more than a match for the Agamemnon in terms of size (almost forty feet longer) and way more in firepower. Her larboard batteries were still masked however, due to the wreckage of her topmasts which her crew was still working desperately to clear. Her size was such that Ladorak judged she could easily take the Agamemnon into her innards if she were open.
The Ca Ira, despite being a two-decker, also fired a heavier broadside than the Agamemnon did. She had 36 and 24 pounders as opposed to the Agamemnon's 18 and 24 pounders. An 80 was nonexistent in the Welkinite Navy, but she was the equivalent of a three decker's lower two gun decks. Most of the firepower of a three decker without the same number of guns. Whatever Ladorak's plan was for engaging her, he was keeping it a closely guarded secret for now.
The Inconstant was tacking, turning her bow back to the north-northwest. Fremantle wanted to pass along the lee side of the Ca Ira again, and give her another broadside... but Ladorak could see it would be close. The Rosferian crew looked to be just about ready to cut their wreckage away completely... and if Fremantle couldn't make it in time, he'd be punished by a very heavy broadside. The Rosferian frigate, the Vestale as Ladorak could now make out her name, was still making right for the Ca Ira, probably hoping to take her under tow. The 120 gun Sans Culottes was still backing her sails, nearing the Ca Ira with each passing moment, and it was her presence that probably caused Fremantle to tack and reverse course when he did, as there was no way a frigate would be engaging a vessel of 120 guns. Her broadside alone was just about equal to Agamemnon's entire complement of guns after all!
Ladorak nonetheless admired her, and knew that those gargantuan Rosferian three deckers were excellent sailers, sometimes able to keep pace with a frigate, though their hulls were not as sturdy as Welkinite 100 gunners, and thus, they weren't suited for long ocean voyages. The Ferlusanian three deckers on the other paw... those were powerful, fast, and made to last forever, long voyages included.
"Well... as we still have a bit of time..." the Quartermaster commented, noting that the half hour glass was about halfway empty. "What drew you to the job of Quartermaster?" he asked of Carrow. "It's not a profession everyone on the ship takes an interest in, after all." he chuckled with a smile.
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Post by spender on Mar 6, 2012 12:25:42 GMT -5
Willard let the main conversation slip away. He'd wanted to talk of tails and fur patterns, not so much religion and history. There was a time and place for that, he believed, and it was not when one was in the process of making it. He was out of depth with Caden and Ocean, anyway, without a proper education before joining the Navy.
It was a startling idea: this battle would be remembered. It would be written about, and creatures around the world would read about it in their papers, and store those papers away somewhere safe, and write about it in their journals. What this line of ships did today would be remembered forever. And he was part of it. A small part, if not the smallest part... but still a part. These iron balls in his paws would be the full stop in a thousand different descriptions of the battle.
Why, then, could he not excite himself for it? To serve Welkin like this was everything he'd wanted. Now he didn't want it. It would be a supreme honour, and he would do his best as always, but where was the passion, the devotion? His insides felt black as this paint.
He sighed again and turned his mind to Spender's problem.
"Yes," he said slowly, to Ocean. "No time right now... but next time. We all need to help him, show him how to be intelligent. We let him do it on his own it's not going to get done. It's like I always said to Frances..." Willard paused, voice cracking. "I... I always said... well... it doesn't matter. She's gone..."
He focused on painting the next ball, completely unaware of the connection that drew them all together. Frances, once upon a time, had kitsat Spender and Ocean as babes, herself only nine years old. Simple-minded not unlike Tally, she'd been capable of such tasks back then. It was only after witnessing her mother accidentally brain her father to death with a frying pan that she began to unravel, and the long hard years running alone in the streets of the Imperium, before Madeleine Waters received a summons to the prison to collect her wayward daughter...
Willard knew none of this history. To him, Castrigg Waters was an unknown Welkin hero, sailing around the world on some secret mission for the King, sworn to such secrecy and sent so far away he could no longer support his family; not at all a pajama-wearing skeleton cluttering in the bottom of Bully Harbour's lagoon. Madeleine was just a simple Welkin jill caught up in the dashing Captain's romantic adventures, and Frances was just another unfortunate case among the many mistakes in Muggidrear's back alleys. He knew nothing of his half-brother, a gang leader who perished in an insane act of terrorism.
It was just as well. To learn that he was of the age both his siblings lost their minds (and lives) would only further his own unraveling. There was only so much a beast could endure before having to accept the cards dealt, God's plan, Fate, whatever you cared to call it. He was the survivor of a cursed heritage, but the survival came with complete ignorance of the entire thing. His mind and soul were damaged, but he patched them up, sealed the bulkheads, protected what he could, and learned to adapt with what was left.
In any case, he continued his work in silence for a while, aching for his lost family, and trying his best to clear his thoughts. One last one slipped through before he could shut the gates, and he felt compelled to share, as he had promised earlier to raise the ermine's spirits.
"She wasn't very different from how he was in Florence. He's doing very good for how long he's been well, growing very fast." He tried to catch Ocean's eye. "You should be proud... You helped him get this far. It's more than I could ever do. Don't be like me... don't give up on him yet. You're a... a good brother."
He wiped his eyes with his paw, forgetting the black paint on it. It smeared across his face like a ferret's mask. He didn't notice. He was too busy trying not to cry.
"What am I doing here?"
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Post by Ladorak on Mar 7, 2012 10:56:56 GMT -5
Ocean paused in his scouring as Willard started to come undone, cracking under the weight of his past, or so it seemed. But hell... who wouldn't, having come from the Imperium after all? In Ocean's opinion, that place needed to be conquered by Welkin, and colonized... and heck, it could probably stand for a good dose of Catholicism as well, though if Welkin did the conquering, that wouldn't occur.
"I... I've been doing a good job so far?" he asked now, pondering this. "It... it honestly doesn't seem like it." he shook his head. "But... I guess he's made progress... though I chalk that up more to God's good graces than to anything I've been doing." he sighed. "Anyway... I... I don't know what further I can do but... I'l try." He said, noticing Willard looked as if he was about to fall apart.
"Something wrong?" he asked now, concern washing into his features.
"Yes... there's something clearly wrong." Caden spoke now, unfolding his arms from across his chest. "We need our morale high for this upcoming battle... what's wrong Seajack Waters? Of course you belong here!" the albino insisted. "Can't question that now! I mean what's gotten into you? You're always the most enthusiastic out of all us!" the marten reminded him.
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Post by Carrow on Mar 7, 2012 13:55:15 GMT -5
Selvis nodded, smiling a little himself. "Very well then. I'll let you take care of those, though I doubt even the eighteen-pounders would be that much of a problem for you," he admitted, winking at his friend. If Alleline said he could handle his shot, then the goanna could handle his shot. He was a good deal taller than the longtail, after all; a good deal stronger, too, from what the mustelid had seen over the past few days he had been working with the monitor lizard, and both of these things definitely stood to him.
"I know, right?," he said with a small chuckle. The goanna's reaction to Spender's misdemeanours was just the kind the longtail would have had, had the shoe been on the other footpaw and he had only joined up the previous week. "I've been around most of the time that he has, and even though he's already been punished for things, and quite harshly - harshly but fairly, that is, as our Captain is nothing if not fair," he added, though he'd felt at the time of one particular infraction that Ladorak hadn't gone far enough with punishment, "it didn't seem like he took hints. It was only before his accident that he'd started to straighten himself out, so to speak, but then... that happened, and he was completely reset. He has little to no memory of what occurred before then," he explained.
"I'm happy to hear you're enjoying your time aboard our vessel so much, all the same," Selvis responded. "You say yourself that you'd have nothing worth going back home to, so it matters all the more that your fresh start appears to be everything you hoped for. I'm also quite glad you're here," he said gently. "I feel much the same as you: serving one's country is a great way to support its cause," he said, smile widening a little as he looked out to sea, observing the frigates for a moment.
"We should do, yes - it must be quite an exciting time for you, right? You'll be in your first ever naval battle in little over an hour at this rate!," he said enthusiastically as he followed Alleline back down the companionway. He listened as the goanna expanded on his reasons for enlisting. "I agree about the food, and the pay doesn't matter that much to me as I'm still earning far more here than I ever could have in my previous life as a street performer in Crittenden," he revealed to the reptile, chuckling a little.
As they started moving down the stairs, the weasel nodded enthusiastically as Alleline compared the merchant marine and the Navy. "My father was in the merchant marine for six years, and what he's told me is along the lines of what you're saying now - but that makes me all the happier to have Captain Fugate at the helm here. He's a great teacher, and the rest of the higher-ups are the same, from what I've seen," he commented, the smile remaining on his face. He was lucky to be serving under such an accommodating Captain; there was no doubt about that.
They were soon back down in the hold. At a nod from Caden, Selvis began unloading his own rusty shot for Ocean and Burton. He nodded at Alleline's suggestion. That sounded like quite a good idea to him. "Indeed, we can - we need to be about as efficient as can be considering the circumstances, he said, eyes brightening a little. He'd soon be back in the thick of battle, and the prospect excited him. He began loading some shot into his basket. He wanted to do his best, but, at the same time, he knew ninety pounds was too much for a creature whose back could start playing up if he wasn't careful.
He compromised by taking three of the twelve-pounders and two of the eighteen-pounders, making 72 pounds in all. He was fine with that - that was the limit he was setting himself, just to be on the safe side. If he couldn't perform to his usual standard because of a self-inflicted injury, he'd be disappointed. Speaking of disappointment, Selvis heard his fellow weasel openly ask himself what he was doing on the ship. He nodded at Alleline, setting his basket down. "More or less - just give me a quick moment, please." He'd need to be quick, indeed; he didn't want to slow things down.
Willard looked like he was all at sea, and for a creature who seemed so confident aboard the Agamemnon, this was slightly worrying for Selvis. He approached the least weasel as Caden said his piece, and after that, the longtail decided to speak up. "This isn't like you, Willard - pull yourself together!," he advised the smaller weasel. "Where's your spirit gone? You need to get it back, because I know that if you were in your right mind you wouldn't stand for this from the rest of us, much less from yourself. You're better than this, and you know it."
He gave him a pat on the shoulder, smiling at him before turning and going back to Alleline. He might not have been all that friendly with Willard, due to the fact that they didn't see too much of each other, but it was easy enough to tell that he was out of sorts, and Selvis didn't like seeing that, especially not in somebeast like Willard. "Right, I'm done now," he told his goanna companion. "Like Midshipjack Fugate's said, it's important to keep morale up at times like this, and I'm hardly going to stand by and do nothing in a case like Willard's - you should see what he's usually like!," he said with a soft chuckle. "Shall we get going, then?"
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Carrow nodded slightly as the Quartermaster's estimate was backed up by Ladorak. When the ermine said 'soon', the mouse was certain that he meant that the order to clear for action was imminent. They were leaving it slightly later than he had expected this time around, it seemed, as it had been almost two hours before each previous conflict he had been in, that the order to prepare the ship for combat had been given - or at least, it felt like that to him now. He couldn't be sure.
The times either side of those conflicts had not stayed with him anywhere near as much as the actual battles had - even though he couldn't possibly forget the fact that he had been a nervous wreck before the Agamemnon had engaged the Melpomene. "I'll be ready for that, sir," he responded to Captain Fugate. "I'm not too sure about moving like lightning," he admitted with a bashful sort of smile, "but I'll certainly be moving as fast as I can."
He watched as the Inconstant started tacking, swallowing nervously as he sized up the situation. He couldn't make it out clearly from where the Agamemnon was currently positioned, but it looked like the Rosferian 80-gunner's crew were nearly ready to clear their wreckage... and fire on Fremantle's vessel. It was only a matter of time - and time was what the Inconstant needed, because she would be pounded with a devastating broadside if she didn't get clear of the Rosferians soon.
His ears perked up as his fellow rodent addressed him, and the field mouse turned to face the Quartermaster, a thoughtful look crossing his features as he pondered the query for a moment, his tail whipping from side to side behind him as he placed a paw beneath his chin. "It's funny... I can quite clearly remember Midshipjack Fugate asking me this very question after I'd chosen my career. This was almost two years ago, you understand, sir, so I can't fully recall what I said to him back then... but since you're asking me now..."
He thought a little more before nodding. "I have a few reasons, and the first, but by no means the most important one, is that which you've already brought up, sir," he said, smiling himself. "I wanted to try something different, and while I was choosing it with no previous experience of life at sea, or even the slightest hint of a naval background, the little I knew of the Quartermaster's profession - and I had been told some things about both the naval position and its Army equivalent - struck me as something I thought I would like. It just... jumped out at me, I s'pose," the told his superior.
"There was also an image in my head at the time... one of me standing at the wheel and looking out to sea, helping to chart a ship's course, It stayed with me long after I made the decision, and I can't help but think of it from time to time. That's what I'm working towards; if it hadn't stuck with me I would have opted for something else, but I'm glad I chose my current career and that it's worked out so well thus far. How about yourself, sir?," he enquired curiously. "What started it all for you?," he asked, his eyes shining. That image in his mind had seemed quite implausible at first, he had to admit, but it had firmly taken hold since then.
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Post by Ladorak on Mar 7, 2012 18:24:13 GMT -5
"Aye, let's head on up, then." the goanna nodded, taking his basket and beginning to climb the companionway again. "And up we go... up we go!" he sang out, moving up one flight, and then another, and then finally, another, to the upper gun deck. He still had to stoop here, however, and began to distribute the cleaned shot around the garlands. Some of them were still empty, but they'd all be filled by the time clear for action was sounded.
"And up one more flight!" he said, taking the stairs up to the main deck, and once again taking in the light and wind. Out here was his favorite spot on the ship, though it was such a shame it was off limits for the most part on leisure hours due to the working crew, but that's why working out here was simply the best in his mind.
Back a ways, the Quartermaster was considering Carrow's vision. "Heh... well you don't do much of navigating... that's the Master's job. And his mates. But you DO at least follow their orders and point the ship where she needs to go. Don't necessarily have to know where you are though... strictly the Master's job. And the Captain of course, as well as the Lieutenants. They all have to be able to navigate by the sun, stars, latitude and all that. Not our job." he stated with a shake of his head.
"As for me, I..." he began, but was interrupted by the Captain.
Ladorak judged that they were now less than an hour's distance from the 80 gunner, and it was now time. "CLEAR FOR ACTION!" he shouted out. "PASS THE WORD ALONG! CLEAR FOR ACTION! Once guns have been shotted, I need the Forenoon Watch up on deck for tacking!" he ordered, the Boatswain nodded and passing the order along by shouting it down through the companionways.
"CLEAR FOR ACTION! CLEAR FOR ACTION!"
"Well, that's our cue!" Alleline said, having finished placing the last shot in a garland. He picked up his basket. "Let's meet at the Gunner's storeroom down on the orlop!" he told Selvis, and began racing down the companionway, being careful to stay to one side to let others start gathering up on the main deck as their bodies mashed and pushed through the narrow space, though not really bottlenecking at all.
"Right... well we stay here for that." the Quartermaster told Carrow. "We just keep steering the ship. And since we're going to tack in probably less than twenty minutes, you'll need to be ready for that. Story time will have to wait, I'm afraid." he mumbled.
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"CLEAR FOR ACTION! CLEAR FOR ACTION!" the call came from above.
"That's it! OK! Here's what we're doing." Caden said, pushing himself off from where he'd been leaning against the hull, springing to life now, as this was the moment he'd been waiting for. "Replace the cleaned shots in the locker! Since we're already down here, I want my subdivision to take up the spare tiller and relieving tackles to the gun room. We'll go from there after that. Wait for Jal Alleline and Frenata... I'll send them down to assist with that. Burton, I want you to help me carry the supplies back to the Gunner's storeroom. We're done here, for now. Head to the spare tiller and relieving tackles!" he ordered the others, moving with Burton and gathering up the supplies.
Ocean stood up, and stretched as best as he could in the cramped quarters down here. "OK... let's go get that tiller." he said, beginning to stack the shots back into the locker before closing it.
Caden reached the storeroom to unlock it about the same time that Alleline and Selvis showed up. "What's the orders, sir?" Alleline asked. "We were just bringing the baskets back down."
"Good timing! Head down to the hold and pick up the spare tiller and relieving tackles with the others!" Caden ordered. "I'll meet you in the gun room and we'll go from there." he stated with a nod, setting the supplies down generally where he'd found them, and letting Alleline and Selvis do the same. The lid was back on the paint can, the cork was back in the neck of the scouring bottle, and the rags were tossed on the shelf with the brushes.
While Caden headed up, Alleline headed down, making his way back through the hold to join the others, and choosing to move on all fours, as it was quicker and way too low down here for him to walk comfortably. He scurried to where the others were draping the relieving tackles over the tiller, and getting ready to lift the big block of wood.
"Here we are." the lizard said, gladly taking one section of the tiller.
"OK... let's... lift!" Ocean declared, and grunted as together the tiller was hoisted off the deck and held in between them. "We'll go up the aft companionway." the ermine suggested. It'll be quickest." He and Willard were out front, whereas Alleline was in back with Elle, and Selvis was free to position himself where he chose. He knew that soon, others would be coming down the stairs to the hold for various reasons... mostly to take the partitions down here as well as all the furniture and personal belongings of the officers, and to retrieve shots and start filling up the garlands to full capacity.
"So... figure out why you're here, yet?" Ocean asked Willard as they started the ascent of the first set of stairs to the orlop deck. "Make way! Make way! One side!" Ocean shouted, waving his paw to warn others. "Spare tiller coming through!"
All throughout the ship, the vessel was being made ready for combat. The sick berth was being dismantled at the bow and being brought down to the cockpit. Partitions of the officers' cabins were coming down and being brought below, as were their personal effects. Sand was being spread throughout the gun decks to prevent slipping if they became bloody. Casks of water were being set up at each mast amidships on every gun deck, and the support pillars were being knocked out with heavy hammers so that the gun deck would be completely unobstructed. Lower sails were being watered to prevent fire, and the stays were being doubled to provide extra support to the masts. The ship was coming alive, as there were no longer any crew "off duty" once clear for action was sounded. It was abuzz like an ant hill, or a bee hive. Everyone was doing something, and since they had practiced this routine plenty before now, the ship would be readied for action in about fifteen minutes.
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Post by spender on Mar 8, 2012 11:06:19 GMT -5
Unfortunately, kind words and urged suggestions to snap out of it had very little effect on Willard. Selvis was correct, but in this case, if Willard could stop this feeling welling up, he would have done so long ago. All he could do was mumble, "I don't know," trying to shrug their worry away. It was his problem, not theirs. He always dealt with his problems, eventually. Somehow. If only Jal Pyne were there, or time for Carrow to do another session... Someone who could see the thoughts he wouldn't let himself know.
He was only relieved from answering too many impossible questions by the call to clear to action. This, in turn, more or less cleared his head. It was time.
"So... figure out why you're here, yet?"
Willard bit his lip, struggling with the tiller; almost everyone else was taking more weight than him, or so it felt. Though he tried to raise to bear the brunt of the weight, he couldn't get it any higher than Ocean's own grasp. The stoat was just too tall.
I'm here because I gave up on someone I loved. I'm here because I ran away from my responsibilities. And they died because of it.
His iron will was rusting, and the guilt was leaking out.
"I'm here to do my job," he said aloud. It sounded convincing enough for him to believe it.
The sudden surge of activity was distracting. Spender disengaged from the pump and wandered a few steps away, unheeding of the others calling him back.
He looked up and down the deck at everyone scuttling about, and dooked in unexpected excitement.
Then he frowned, scrunched his face, bowed his head, and for the life of him couldn't remember what he'd just been doing, what he was supposed to do, or what his name was.
Molly was sitting up now, dressed in her fighting clothes, and helping guide Tally through the final stages of cleaning her Ferlusan-made rifle, Little Lad. They were just finishing up when things started to come apart. Specifically, the cabin bulkheads.
Tally shrieked and stood up. Molly was in no position to grab her, and had no time to explain before the mousemaid took matters into her own paws.
"Put dose back! Kapitan, Kapitan!" She scurried past the crewbeasts, out onto the weather deck, and spun around to face the stern, jumping up and down to get attention. "Papa!" She squeaked, seeing Carrow by the wheel. "Carrow! Dey are stealink der valls! Help!"
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Post by Carrow on Mar 8, 2012 20:06:56 GMT -5
Selvis followed Alleline back up the flights of stairs they'd come down, noting the particularly cheerful disposition that his goanna friend had. He really seemed to be enjoying himself, and Selvis was very happy indeed for him. "My, you seem to be enjoying yourself, matey!," he exclaimed, smiling as they continued their ascent. "I bet you didn't think you'd be getting involved in a battle so soon after joining up, did you?," he asked the monitor lizard, chuckling a little.
The enthusiasm that the weasel had for ship work was still there, of course; indeed, it wasn't something that had even slightly worn off for him - the longtail still loved the work he did. He felt he had to make the most of things while he was here; after all, despite the fact he most likely would have been doing things he liked back in Crittenden as well, being aboard a ship (and particularly one like this) was a lot more exciting than having to scrape together a living as a performer, though that would have been nice too.
On the upper gun deck, Selvis moved about as quickly he could, distributing the shot he'd taken up with him with visible ease. He deposited one shot at a time into the garland down there, and followed his friend up to the main deck after it had been filled. They soon reached their destination and it could be noted that Selvis looked visibly relaxed about things. He wasn't sure why in particular this was, but the calming influence this part of the ship had on him was certainly helping.
He hummed a few bars of a tune as he made his way over to the garland on that deck, and had just about finished placing the last of his shot into it before the call to clear for action sounded. It made the fur stand up on the back of his neck - in a good way, of course, as he was looking forward to engaging the enemy, not filled with dread like last time. He nodded in response to Alleline's suggestion, and followed him back down to the orlop deck, basket in paw.
He found that he was hard put to keep up with the lizard, what with the goanna's considerable speed and the other traffic on the companionway as the other crewbeasts scrambled to make themselves look useful. Every one of them needed to be doing something, after all. With that said, it didn't take all the long for the weasel and Alleline to reach the door to the Gunner's storeroom. Selvis looked eager to carry out orders, and he smiled as Caden complimented their timing, setting down his basket before nodding as instructions were given.
He followed Alleline back through the hold, though kept his distance slightly to allow for the lizard's method of getting about down here, where there was very little headroom. He kept up with him as the goanna scurried to join the others. When they reached the tiller, Alleline headed down to join Elle, and Ocean went up to work with Willard. Selvis decided he'd play it safe and remain with Alleline, because he wanted to give Ocean and Willard a modicum of privacy, and was also aware the least weasel didn't do well with too many creatures around him all at once.
He went down to join his goanna and beech marten companions, waiting for Ocean's signal. The weasel grunted also as he did his part to lift the tiller, and once the group had it hoisted, they started off up the aft companionway. The longtail was feeling quite good about things as they stood, and it showed in his enthusiastic exclamations. "Ah, this is great, isn't it? I like to think that we can all do our bit to help things run smoothly on this ship, but it's at times like these that I realise how crucial teamwork is to our life here!"
--
Carrow nodded. "I know now that one in such a position wouldn't do things like that, yes. I thought differently at the time, but I'm far from disappointed that what I thought it would be like and what it actually is, are so different! I've learned rather a lot since those days, but I'm still thankful for having had thoughts like that, because they're the sort that convinced me to go looking for a ship to join, sir," he admitted, smiling. "If it wasn't for them, I'd never have showed up at Whistleminster Palace two years ago and none of this would have happened."
He had an excited look on his features as the rat Quartermaster began to recount his tale, but froze momentarily as Ladorak sounded the clear for action. He felt a shiver pass up his spine. So... it was finally happening. He was unsure what he'd be doing for it, but he was glad that they were getting closer to finally engaging their foe. It wasn't that he particularly disliked this waiting period, this relative calm before the storm, but knowing that they would soon be ready for what was to come excited him.
He was then informed that he would be staying put, and the rodent nodded again. "All right, sir - truth be told I wasn't entirely sure what I'd be needed for. I'd gotten a little used to being down below and helping the others out at this time, but I don't need to be anywhere else now, so that's fine." He smiled. "I wouldn't want to be, either. I quite enjoy being out here, no matter the occasion. You say we'll be tacking soon?," he repeated, tail standing up behind him in excitement. "Oh, good! I'm looking forward to that!"
The field mouse's ears perked up as Tally called to him. Even though his large ears meant that he had good hearing, he was still more than a little surprised that he could hear her, as the ship was a veritable hive of activity now, and more than a little of that was reaching the creatures near the ship's wheel. He wondered what she could want, but figured it might have something to do with the current activity - she was new to this, after all.
He turned his head to look at her, a small smile on his face as he attempted to allay her fears. It was the first he had seen or heard of her all morning, and he was rather glad that she was around... though he couldn't help but wonder how she'd view the upcoming battle, as there was less than an hour to go at this rate. "It's all right, Tally," he called to her. "The crew is just setting the ship up for battle. We'll be engaging with a Rosferian ship soon," he explained.
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Post by Ladorak on Mar 9, 2012 11:06:24 GMT -5
((I sense a pattern going on here XD Spender posts at 11:06. Then Carrow posts at 20:06. Now I post at 11:06 again XD))
It was times like this that Caden terribly missed being part of the regular crew. He would often question if he hadn't been too hasty in his decision to accept his promotion. After all, he really wanted to be mucking about with his fellow crew and doing all the back breaking work of the job. He'd toned up doing it (he now worked out with Ladorak most mornings, to make up for it), and felt it was extremely valuable in helping him build his camaraderie... and on top of that, it was fun!
Now he was a superior officer to them all. He was an officer trainee. He had to separate himself from them... even if it didn't feel fully right. He wanted to be with them... working alongside them, helping to load the gun, or taking down the bulkheads. Had he acted too swiftly? No... he couldn't think that like! He was the bigger brother here! He had to supervise them... and enjoy his time off with them when he could. Yes... it was his new role now. He had to adapt to it! Though... maybe asking their opinion on it afterward wouldn't hurt.
He stood in the gun room, patiently waiting for them as the canvas partition was taken down, opening up the gun room to the rest of the gun deck.
One deck below, on the orlop, Ocean nodded at Willard's explanation. "I guess... I guess that's suitable then." he said. He still sensed something was wrong, but he couldn't really place his claw on it, and he really didn't have the time at the moment to analyze it further.
"Certainly!" Alleline agreed. "Nothing would get done on this ship with any one beast. With more than enough of us to go around though... makes things a tad easier." he winked.
They reached the lower gun deck as sand was being spread out everywhere. Water barrels were being set up amidships for the crew, and the partition to the gun room was now down.
Moving past the rows of cabins, they headed to the tiller where Caden was, and deposited their load at his paws. "Good! OK... let's take the cabins apart back here now!" he said, motioning to the living quarters of the marine lieutenants and Gunner. "After that, we'll get our gun ready for action." he explained. "Hop to it then!" the marten ordered, stepping back to observe their progress. "Oh yes! Our new station is going to be the number eight gun, starboard side, upper gun deck!" he informed them, as they'd moved up a gun deck since last time. Number eight was about halfway down the gun deck, or right smack in the middle. As a Master's Mate usually commanded the forward guns, Quarter Gunners and Midshipjacks took the middle and after guns.
"Oh and uh..." he stopped Alleline for a moment. "Not you, Jal Alleline. I'm afraid you haven't trained with us enough to be efficient on the guns. You'll be working as a topjack, so once we tack... you'll probably stay aloft for the duration of the battle to help work the sails."
Alleline nodded at this, knowing it wasn't the safest place to be (if the mast fell, well... it'd be a long way down) in combat, but without experience on the gun, he had to be assigned someplace he knew he was experienced at. For him, that was the mainmast. He'd be assigned to it since his start here (and had heard that the main topmast had been the only one to fall in their previous combat).
"Jal Waters, once you deposit the partition in the hold, head to the grand magazine and pick up the salt box for the gun, if you please." Caden spoke to Willard now, as he was still powder carrier.
Ocean dismantled one of the walls, lifting it out of its slot and letting Willard grab the other half. More crew was moving in to assist them now, and it was evident they'd be done in one trip. However... he also needed to find Spender too... and direct him to his post. But since they'd be heading topside to tack... he'd most likely bump into him very soon. Hell... he was working the upper gun deck now, and Spender would be up there somewhere.
Alleline easily took one down on his own, though the balance was a bit too much, and he offered the other end to Selvis if he wanted it. "Teamwork mate... just like you said." he chuckled, beginning to follow Ocean and Willard down to the hold to store these partitions. "Lead the way." he told Selvis, figuring it was better to let the short one lead off, so that the goanna could keep a close eye on the beams overhead, and not smash into one on the way down. "Guess I won't be working with you on the gun." he said. "Um... just out of curiosity Selvis... you ever work the tops before in combat?" he asked, imagining what it would be like up there in the heat of battle. Normally it didn't freak the lizard out much but... now... well... there would be shots flying, smoke drifting in the air... it was probably going to be a very different world.
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"Hah!" Ladorak chuckled. "That reminds me... I need to get changed!" he said, heading aft. "Jal Wilson! You have command for the moment! Just going to change." he informed the ship's Master, who staluted, nodded and stayed by the wheel.
Ladorak hurriedly headed for his living quarters (giving Carrow a pat on the shoulder as he moved by him) as the Master's and First Lieutenant's cabins came down. It would take them some time to work their back back here... so he should have ample time to change. "Not to worry, Tally! My cabin is part of the weather deck's gun deck so... need all the open space we can get during a clear for action! All of our stuff is going to be taken down to the hold, where it will be safe from gunfire and from others tripping over it. Won't do to have the deck all cluttered, after all!" he told her, entering his sleeping chamber.
"Ah... Molly... as much as I'm sure this will excite you, I'm afraid I'm here for a specific purpose." he said, winking at her (with his bad eye of course due to his monocle) as he took his epaulettes off, tossed them into his trunk, and then rapidly lowered his white dress pants. All commissioned officers changed from their white dress pants into their blue ones, to become indistinguishable from each other, and the Captain removed his epaulettes, looking like any other Lieutenant. They knew each other by face and face alone... for this made them an equal target out on the quarterdeck, without the Captain being constantly targetted (unless of course he forgot to change).
He proceeded to pull on the plain blue pants he wore in combat, and just in time too, as the partitions to their sleeping quarters suddenly came down. Ladorak had just finished snapping the last button in place, and closed his trunk up. "It's fair game!" he told the crew. "I need nothing more out of it." The ermine elected to remain by his wife for the moment, wanting to make sure the conversion of his quarters into a combat zone transitioned smoothly. He briefly wondered if he'd have to sleep out in the open tonight... for if battle wasn't concluded by day's end, they'd have to remain at battle stations throughout the night, just in case.
"Just as a bit of a heads up." The Quartermaster said to Carrow now, speaking a bit more loudly to be heard, but keeping his ears trained on the Master, in case he gave an additional order. "We're going to be tacking to the south southeast I'd say... in order to follow the Rosferians... once clear for action is over and done with... we need to move the ship's bow through the wind to larboard... so we're going to be spinning the ship's wheel far to starboard." he said, rotating a claw around and around to demonstrate. "It'll be a series of about six commands or so. Don't worry... you'll know most of them already... but the wheel orders... I'll walk you through." he said reassuringly.
The Quartermaster at the bell sounded out four rings. Ding-ding! Ding-ding! It was now four bells in the Forenoon Watch, or 10:00 AM. By Ladorak's estimate, they were about forty-fives minutes away from firing their first broadside.
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Down in the ship's grand magazine, Scharnhorst had gathered with the Gunner and the rest of his mates, and about twenty or so of the ship's crew. They were working in almost total darkness, the dim, eerie yellow glow (from two battle lanterns sitting behind windows that looked into the filling room) that streamed in from the small glass portals outside the magazine being the only source of light they had in here.
They were in the filling room, the mates and Gunner carefully measuring out each cartridge for its correct nine pound charge, dunking a scoop into a powder barrel, and then pouring the fine black sand like material into the canvas cartridges, which were then passed to the crew to begin sewing up. A wet canvas curtain hung at the entrance, and the Master-at-Arms took up his duty station right outside it, to ensure that all powder carriers who came down here put on the special anti-static rubber slippers before entering to retrieve their cartridges.
Holes had been bored in the deck, lined with copper, in order to pass up cartridges from down below on the orlop deck. A "chain" could be formed this way, with one crew member getting a cartridge from the filling room, running up to the orlop deck, pawing it through the hole to the lower gun deck, and it could then be distributed to its gun, or be passed further up if need be.
The zorilla worked silently for the most part, not liking to talk while he was measuring, as it was a fine science, and he knew his job was vital. Too much powder might shatter the gun and kill its crew... too little and you might not have the shot reach the target, or indeed, even blow it out of the barrel. He had to make sure his measurements were perfect each and every time.
Already the salt boxes were being prepared, lined up near the wet curtain (which some of the crew down here would lather with water every so often) and ready for the carriers to start showing up.
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