[High Society] Choose Your Partners

[Neil Gow]

[Lets leave the uniform issue until it matters?]

The remains of the company leave the fishing village before dawn, accompanied by their two partisan guides, Sanchez and Romero. The skirmish against the French patrol has left the company with a victory in Spain and a handful of knick knacks as well as some much needed weapons and ammunition.

The travel through the countryside is hard slog. The weather switches between unseasonally cold and still, even for the winter, and driving squalls that lash the skin like a cat o'nine tails. The rain has stirred up the mud and the marching occasionally becomes heavy going but if there is one thing that the British army can do, it is march!

On the afternoon of the third day, the company crest a thorny hill and see below them the estate of the Terrise family - the gateway to the guerillas.

[A different sort of set-up here, a definite chance for the officers to do some socialising and the rank & file to match wits with the guerillas. Oh, and there will be women! What sort of outcome to do you want for the challenge?]

[wraithben]

As they march down into the village Price looks around in amazement. These Spanish villages are unlike anything he has seen before. Coming form the mining valleys of South Wales he is used to the scenery, but its livlier colour of the skin, the more upright frame that has him amazed.

Having been out of the mines for a few years, Price stands straight, but all these tanned staight standing peple seem particularly foreign to him. A couple of the peasant girls catch his eye and he is entranced by their shy smiles.

[Neil Gow]

[If anyone is waiting for me to do something, let me know - the ball is in your court here]

[Halfbat]

Hempwick reals in his mount and it stamps its foot impatiently. The villa may be what they have been looking for, but he is pleased at the feel of the pistol no its sash - and doubly pleased that he had the others show him how to use it. It was easier than using a cannon from a pitching ship, at least, and he fell easily to its use with far more skill than he expected.

"Price, take it easy, there. Carmichael... should we take this a little cautiously?"

He eased the hangar in its sheath and checked the pistol, but did not yet draw them, instead running a judicoius eyes over the crops, auatomatically estimating their value and the wealth of the man who ran - or owned - the estate.
[Use of Trait for Duelist; Waiting for Zuki's lead.]

[Zuki]

[Apologies for taking to long to reply, but should be able to post more often now]

Carmichael buttons up his freshly cleaned uniform, and in good time too, if he is to meet with the guerillas he intends for him and his men to look their very best. Such ideas of subterfuge and disguise are not the way an officer comports himself, at least, not when the only alternative is peasant clothes, for now he will stick to the proper dress, even if it may mean possible discovery.

He nods to Hempwick, the caution the man displays is something he should heed, after all the Lieutenant has seen more actual action and less of the bottom of a sherry bottle than he has. "Aye, perhaps we should send out a scout to locate the guerillas, its likely the french would somewhere nearby, Lady Terrisse and her father have no love for them, but that wont stop the billet orders." he dismounts and approaches his favourite scallywag, Private Fuller.

"Alright Fuller, I..." he pauses a moment and takes in the disheviled state of the mans uniform, the stains that permeate the collar, the missing button. It takes effort, but he decides to avoid reprimanding him on this occasion, but makes a note to dock his pay to order new threads when the time comes. "I...would like you to scout ahead, locate the rebels if possible - but do not be seen. There could be French troops around."


[What Id like to see some this scene is some tension between the rebels and us, power plays for dominance, for the ear of lady terrisee or perhaps her indulgence. Maybe the french are occupying the land and we have to assist in dirving them out?]

[wraithben]

Price snaps his eyes back front at Hempwick's comment. However he is unable to stop himself from from polishing his buttons and trying to flatten the creases in his uniform with his hands. Hearing the Captain's orders to Fuller he looks around, but can see no danger at the moemnt.

He grounds his musket and checks that the chest is still firmly attached to the mule they have been given to carry it. Seeing everything in order he continues to look around.

[w00hoo]

Fuller looks across to Private Charlesworth and with a quick "watch me back Tom, no telling what these Dago's might do," he carefully heads off towards the villa, rifle primed. Looking back he can see the Captains buttons winking as they catch the sun and returns to scouting with a shake of his head.

The hill down towards the estate is steep and covered in thorny bushes, crisp with the chill of winter their dead growth still perfectly willing to catch on his clothing and scratch at his skin. In short order he is down near the edge of the village.

[w00hoo]

Fuller paused at the edge of a rough hut, he could hear sounds inside, muffled by the wooden walls. Straining to hear he felt he could make out voices, pitched high so probably female. Beyond not English he had no idea of the language.

Looking back up the hill he tried to work out what the captain wanted him to do.

[Neil Gow]

[Nicely handled on the uniform issue everyone... I like it]

Fuller and Charlesworth wait outside the hut, silently, poised for whatever dangers could come their way. The sun beats down on them, hot for them even this early in the year and a total contrast to the cold they have experienced before. The chatter in the house stops for a moment and the village is swathed in silence. Suddenly there is a shriek from inside the old house and one of the doors flies open. Charlesworth reacts slower, taken aback by the sudden movement, but Fuller is a far sharper soldier and his rifle is up and ready to fire in an instant...

... the instant that he realises he is about to end the life of a laughing, smiling child who has just stolen an orange from his mother's table!

Behind them, next to the officers, Sanchez and Romero crease up with laughter and point towards the villa. "Senor, your caution is admir...admir... Senor, you are a careful man, but if there were French in this village we would know. The priest, God protect him, would make dark smoke come from his fire in the church." Sanchez points to the boy. "I assure you, Senor, he is not French!"

Romero moves down towards the heart of the village. " Senors, we have a welcoming party." He points towards three horses coming from the villa.

The first horse is mounted by a well-dressed Spaniard in his 40s. He is clearly well-heeled and carries himself like he owns this village and the plantation.

The second horse is mounted by another man, younger and darker. He has a rifle slung across his back and has the demeanour of a soldier, watching the British uniforms carefully as he approaches.

The third horse is mounted side saddle by a woman, the unmistakable beauty of Lady Terrise. Riding the horse, held before her is a small child, a boy, maybe only a few years old. His skin is definitely lighter than his mothers....

[There will be a mission coming, promise!]

[w00hoo]

Fuller lets out a string of choice expletives as he lowers the rifle to the sound of laughter from back up the hill. He makes a swipe for the orange, held in the hand of the stunned child, silenced by the proximity of the dangerous end of a gun. Moving in to the shade he gets a crumpled cigarette from his pocket, rolled with the papers lifted from dead French bodies and lights it up before attacking the skin of the orange with a small knife and waiting for the horsemen to arrive.

[Halfbat]

Hempwick slides off his horse, glad to be back on solid ground once more. His face is all smiles as he bows. "<My lady, it is a pleasure to see you once again.>" With a mischevious glint he gestures towards Carmichael. "<May I introduce a good friend of mine, Captain Carmichael, and ...some of his light infantry?>"

He steps quickly out of the way before Carmichael accidentally backs his horse into him and nods to the rifle-clad guerilla, sure he has seen the like of him before. A father, perhaps? A brother? No matter. He is careful to acknowledge the landlord first. "<My lord. Lieutenant-Commander Hempwick of his majesty's Royal Navy at your service. You may have been expecting us.>"

[Neil Gow]

The young woman blushes slightly and glances towards Carmichael. She slides from her saddle and helps the young boy down onto the dusty ground.

The military man jumps down and moves directly to Sanchez and Romero, speaking in a lightning fast, animated and heavily accented Spanish. Its hard for those that speak the language to decipher what they are saying, but it definitely has something to do with 'b'stard English', 'redcoats' and 'sons of whores'.

The estate owner stays in his saddle but nods towards Hempwick. "I am pleased to meet you sir. My name is Juan, Juan Terisse. This is my brother, Jose and my sister, Elisa. Welcome to our home. You look tired, no?"

[Halfbat]

[Is he speaking English - assuming he is...]
"Josiah Hempwick. I am most pleased to make your acquaintance." He looks round at the unkempt and salt-rimed infantry uniforms, trying his hardest to ignore the lines on his own. "We are, indeed, tired, as you say. Is it too much to request a place to rest, and perhaps an opportunity for the Captain's men to repair their uniforms?" His eyes flit to Jose. "I believe I have seen your brother - or someone very much like him recently. In the mountains, during the French's advance towards the coast. He was most..." he hesitates, searching for the word "...patriotic in his defense of his native land."

[wraithben]

Price looks around as he leads the mule into the astate, wandering where the chest can be put safely.

He is still amazed by the place - so different from the valley towns of south wales and indeed the hometown of the 33rd.

He finds somewhere to hobble the mule, and sits down leaning back against a tree taking in everything going on around him.

[w00hoo]

Fuller concentrated on the fruit, the Ruperts seemed to have everything under control, when he finally realised something was nagging at that back of his memory he looked across at Tom, "**** Tom, that Dago on the 'orse, reckon I've seen 'im before. We were caught out a while back, got cut off, 'ad to spend a few days holed up with a bunch of guerillas livin' in the dirt to avoid the Frenchies, got the trots something terrible off their grub. I'd swear 'e was their leader. Bunch of good for nothings spent most of their time sleepin', when they weren't running." If it were possible, Snout shrunk slightly further in to the shade.