>>27078086
>Nicolas Durand, an eleven year old boy who should have died at birth. Capable of speaking english, knows the basics of shooting firearms. Strangely lucky.

>>27078086
>Lieutenant François Durand, lieutenant of the marines on board the Saint-Esprit. Adult, capable of fighting with sword and shot.
Should be more fun. I'd like to play as an adult this time.

>>27078086
>Nicolas Durand, an eleven year old boy who should have died at birth. Capable of speaking english, knows the basics of shooting firearms. Strangely lucky

>>27078086
>Nicolas Durand, an eleven year old boy who should have died at birth. Capable of speaking english, knows the basics of shooting firearms. Strangely lucky.

Also someone refresh my memory, but weren't we captured by the British? Or did we scare them off?

>>27078086
>Lieutenant François Durand, lieutenant of the marines on board the Saint-Esprit. Adult, capable of fighting with sword and shot.

>>27078231
>>Previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Gunpowder%20Quest

we made one of their ship to flee and other was blown up by us, tho we have some prisoners including the captain

Okay, seems that Nicolas squeaks ahead again. Writing, should be quick.

It would be rude to refuse the right to be seen to an officer, a captain at that. So, when in the middle of your father trying to explain charts to you, there was a knock at the door announcing the presence of Captain William Bayne, your father didn't hesitate to tell him to come inside.

As the captain walks in, you note the sword at his side- a sign that he swore not to attempt escape on his honor as an officer and a gentleman.

Not that that means much nowadays. He has large, bushy brown sideburns, and a face that always seems to have a ghost of a grin on it. His eyes are a piercing blue- though the lower half of his face might suggest he was a jovial man, his eyes suggest a man that is far more hardened and cunning. The man to the side of him is shorter, looks rather younger- dressed in the uniform of a midshipman, he seems nervous and out place.

He doffs his officer's cap, tucking it under his arm as he gives you a relaxed salute, "Lieutenant François? Hello. Would speak of sleeping?"

You blink. His French is rather poor. You glance up to your father, following his lead.

"Pardon?" Your father stares back, confused. Captain Bayne rolls his eyes, before shaking his head.

"Please forgive. My French bad. English speak?"

You're not sure exactly, but you doubt anyone could be THIS bad at French. It almost seems on purpose. You contemplate whether or not to admit that you can speak his language when your father makes that moot point.

"Oh, my son can speak English!" Your father looks to you happily, "Nicolas, would you please translate?"

Well, that cat's out of the bag. The British captain is looking at you curiously.

>"Of course, father," Do your best.
>Stare blankly.
>Agree, but be especially careful about what gets translated.
>"I'm sorry father, I don't feel nearly confident enough. Shall I go see if someone else can?"
>Other.

>>27078476
>"Of course, father," Do your best.

No reason to mess this up.

>>27078476
>"Of course, father," Do your best.

>>27078476
>"Of course, father," Do your best.

>>27078624
>>27078616
>>27078541
Nicolas has no need for duplicity. Writing.

Well, you haven't anything to hide, have you?

"Of course," You turn to the captain, and say in your best English, "Yes, I can translate."

Captain Bayne nods, and is kind enough to speak slowly.

"Thank you. Again, I apologize for my poor French, Lieutenant François. You have a very precocious child here."

"My pride and joy," Your father says with a smile.

"Of course. I wanted to ask permission for midshipman Smith and myself to be able to stay in the better quarters upon the Alfred- if I had known that my ship the Alexander would go up like that, I would have hesitated to give the Saint-Esprit my broadside. As it is, the hold is proving unpalatable."

You faithfully translate to your father, who nods, and cocks an eyebrow, "Your quarters are not to your liking then monsieur?"
"I would be fine with them as is, but Midshipman Smith here," At this, Captain Bayne jerks a thumb to the midshipman behind him, "Is rather weak in constitution. I wish only for him to recover."
"Well, I would have to consult with Captain Picquet," Your father seems uncertain, out of his depth, but Captain Bayne rases an eyebrow at that.
"Captain Picquet?" Bayne gives his lopsided grin, "You're in charge of this vessel, aren't you? You're in command, lieutenant."

Your father nods at that, considering. He seems a bit conflicted at this. Two officers couldn't be that much trouble after all. Aside from that, wasn't this a noble tradition? It was best to trust in traditions, especially if one wishes to be a noble. He nods.

"Very well then," François steps forward and shakes Captain Bayne's hand, "You seem a man of honor. Cause me no trouble, hm?"

"Of course, Lieutenant François," Captain Bayne seems in a bit of a hurry to get out of your father's grasp, as he nods, "My honor is on the line here."

"Very good," François turns back to the charts he was pondering, "Anything else?"

"No, I believe that settles that. Bon voyage, lieutenant," Captain Bayne gives a final smile, before turning back to the deck, Midshipman Smith in tow. Your father looks up from his charts as soon as they turn their backs to watch them, frowning. Only after the door shuts, does he speak, and then in low tones.

"I don't know if that was a good idea or not. Nicolas-" Your father opens his mouth, then shuts it, shaking his head, "Hm. Never mind. Just stay near whenever I talk to them, hm?" Your father goes back to his charts, scowling, "All of this work, tch! Becoming a marine was easy. Just loading guns and swinging swords- but this, this! This is inscrutable!"

You glance over the table your father is leaning on. Yes, those charts were strange. Still, you have time ahead of you before you moor in Spanish port. What do you spend your time on?

>Go spy upon Captain Bayne and his Midshipman Smith. {Practice stealth. DC 65}
>Convince your father to help teach you how to fence. {Practice swordplay}
>Help father with his charts. {Practice reading, navigation, DC 65}
>Ask father to show you how to work the cannons. {Practice gunnery}
>Other.

>>27078933
>Go spy upon Captain Bayne and his Midshipman Smith. {Practice stealth. DC 65}

>>27078933
>Convince your father to help teach you how to fence. {Practice swordplay}

Rolled 84

>>27078933
>Help father with his charts. {Practice reading, navigation, DC 65}
A nobleman must be educated.

Rolled 75

>>27078933
>Help father with his charts. {Practice reading, navigation, DC 65}

>>27078933
>Help father with his charts. {Practice reading, navigation, DC 65}

Rolled 91

>>27079048
>>27079017
>>27078987
That settles that then. Nicolas is gonna learn how to read.

And I'll go ahead and take those two rolls for two successes, though in the future, just wait until after we reach consensus on an option before rolling. I'll just roll the last myself, then writing.

>>27079094
>>27079017
>>27078987
Nicolas is a reading machine!

>>27078086
op?

You're a quick study- soon enough, you're pointing out to your father his mistakes. You won't pass any navigation courses, but soon enough you know the basics, and more importantly, are fully versed in reading and writing. Some polish will be necessary when you reach the mainland, but your amazed father promises that the first thing he'll do with the prize money is get you a tutor- which, really isn't necessary as he's a mariner and, by French law, you're guaranteed a public education, but your father is insistent and you're too tired to argue.

Along the course of the trip though, an outbreak of scurvy further winnows away the men- thankfully, your father and you manage to avoid it, but the sight of so many men, British and French, being thrown over the sides during the voyage haunts you. Midshipman Smith suffers the same fate- Captain Baynes himself sending the man overboard after he perished. Your father is very careful this time- ensuring your isolation from the rest of the crew, plenty of bed rest, and more than your fair share of rations. Any attempts to argue or rebel from this imprisonment are met with thunderous reprimands.

You aren't in much of a position to argue though- your wound is starting to suppurate and weep, giving you frightful headaches and fever, leaving you bed ridden for most of the voyage. You read what few books are available, in between your father's frenetic ministrations and care.

Thankfully, the voyage does come to an end as the allied Spanish port of Horta is sighted. Your father is quite eager to get you ashore, managing to finagle you in to Captain Picquet's boat as he goes ashore to assure the Spaniards that there is no dread plague on your vessels.

You're treated well, and discharged- you look a bit gruesome, but you're otherwise fit as a fiddle. The rest of the voyage is through peaceful waters, and uninterrupted. Soon, you've sailed in to Bayonne, a welcome relief after the journey. The Alfred proves a good prize indeed. Your father manages to earn for himself a great deal of money- 1600 livre for him, and Captain Picquet grants you a further 100 livre- a small fortune between the two of you.

Your father, by this point, is frustrated with the current state of things- Captain Picquet points out (rightly) that repairing the Saint Esprit will take a considerable amount of time. Your father however, is of the opinion that you're missing out on the glory of action in the Caribbean.

"It's unreasonable," Your father laments, while the two of you are waiting, still, in port. It's December 8th by now, "I feel we've proved our heroism- this money, it hardly compensates for our deeds."

The two of you are walking the docks, staring at all the great hustle and bustle of Brittany's great port. Your father likes to take you on these walks to rant- you've only been on land for five days, and he's already itching to go back out to sea.

"These things take time, father," You're not sure why you try, but still you must attempt to mollify the man.

"Time! Time! Hah, oh God grant me patience, everyone seems content to lollygag in perpetuity- there is a war on, my son! The British have lost their colonies!"
"The negotiations are ongoing."
"They haven't a prayer, with the Comte de Grasse in Atlantic waters, and what are we doing here, hm? Waiting for Picquet to line his cabin with nice new furniture. Such a pain."
"Well, he did lose his main mast."

Your father scratches his nose, and then scowls, "So? France has plenty of trees. Can't take that long to find a new mast."

"Whatever you say, father," You consider the sea. Well. You've served on the sea long enough. Time to think of your future.

Your father has served more than enough of his tour of duty. He can, if he so desire, apply for a discharge to Captain Picquet- who you assume would only too happily give it to him. From there, you have options.

Being home again rises to the front of your mind. Actually being with your family for a holiday might be nice.

Though, if you are of a more ambitious bent, perhaps signing on with one of Nantes's privateers could be a good idea. No shortage of them, and they're always eager for sailors.

Or perhaps it's time for you and your father to part ways. Your father has the money for it. You could buy your way on to one the ships and be an aspirant- actually on the track to becoming an officer on a vessel.

Your father might hurt at that, but if you are interested in becoming a naval officer, that is the first step. Though, you can also guarantee your mother would be enraged.

You look up the blue sky, filled with grey. Whatever the case, you need to get inside before it snows again. As much hot air as your father has, it's not enough to keep you warm in the snow.

>"Perhaps we could go home, for a short term? Mother must miss us terribly- and Captain Picquet would be alright with that."
>"Why not go with another ship? One of the privateers?"
>"Father, we have the money for it. I'd like to become an officer in the navy."
>Other.

>>27079941
>"Perhaps we could go home, for a short term? Mother must miss us terribly- and Captain Picquet would be alright with that."

Go and visit mum.

>>27079941
>"Perhaps we could go home, for a short term? Mother must miss us terribly- and Captain Picquet would be alright with that."
Let's go home and get educated. We're practically feral.

>>27079941
>"Why not go with another ship? One of the privateers?"
Privateering sounds FUN

>>27079941
>"Why not go with another ship? One of the privateers?"

>>27079941
>>"Perhaps we could go home, for a short term? Mother must miss us terribly- and Captain Picquet would be alright with that."

>>27080045
>>27080007
>>27079983
Going home to be a family man. Writing.

>>27079941
>"Perhaps we could go home, for a short term? Mother must miss us terribly- and Captain Picquet would be alright with that."


Expand our skills

"Perhaps we could go home, for a short term?" You look up to your father, who stares down at you, with a look of horror, "Mother must miss us terribly- and Captain Picquet would be alright with that."

Your father is staring at you like you had just announced that you were going to swim across the channel and pledge allegiance to King George.

"What? How could you say that! Didn't I say that I'd come back with a knighthood, or not at a-"
"Father, please. We have money enough to be set for the next few years if managed well enough. In fact, we could probably buy a title if you're so desperate."

"Buy a title? Please," Your father turns away at the thought, making a sour face, "I'll not be another slave to vanity and buy a meaningless piece of paper."

"Well, Captain Picquet isn't going to be sailing any time soon. And aside from that, for heaven's sake it's Christmas."

Your father looks at you sadly, "You really want to do this?"
"Of course. I miss mom. Don't you?"

Your father looks away wistfully, "I miss her too son, truly I do. But I'd feel a lot better if I came home a chevalier than a mere lieutenant."

But, even with those words, your father nods, relenting. Glory can wait. You can learn more before heading out to sea again.

It doesn't take overly long, but the friendly Captain Picquet wants to see the two of you off before you start traveling for Marseilles. He follows the two of you to the carriage that you've hired at the end of town, grinning from ear to ear. He seems perhaps a bit overmuch at the prospect of your father leaving. He has behind him a servant bearing a box and parasol. Eternally busy man, Captain Picquet.

"Lieutenant Durand, it has been an utmost pleasure to have you under my command," Captain Picquet says with a smile, passing your father his discharge papers, "And a greater pleasure to get you out of my hair for now."

"Hm, well, just remember sir, that I'll be available again soon enough to plague you, if you have need of me," Your father groans as he loads the last of the luggage in to the carriage, "I am far too useful to let rot on land."

"Of course," Captain Picquet turns to you, "You're a very brave boy, Nicolas."

"What, I'm not brave?" Your father slams the door , turning to Captain Picquet, a smile on his face, "Where do you think he got it from?"
"You are a lucky fool, lieutenant to have a boy so brave," Captain Picquet kneels before you, and looks you in the eye, "I don't know about what your father says with you being a good luck charm, but you served well."

He snaps his fingers, and the servant approaches, box in hand. Picquet takes it from him, then pushes it in to your arms, "Don't consider it a gift. It's just an old man's sentimentality."

A long and lacquered oak box with a small lock on it, and a little key already put in it. Your father looks a bit confused at this. At Picquet's silent urgings, you open the box to reveal a fine sword nestled in velvet, inlaid with a new etching in the blade 'Durand'. It takes you a few moments to recognize it as the sword of the British officer that you had killed. Your father's smile shrivels in shock. Captain Picquet smiles at you, then stands.

"Well, I'm far too fond of overwrought goodbyes. Durands, either of you, if I'm still fool enough to be at sea, and you happen to be in port, be assured I will attempt to conscript you on to my vessel. It's been a pleasure. Enjoy your holiday."

He walks away, back to his own carriage, as your father stares at the box, still open in your hands. He has a strange expression on his face.

>"Nice sword, huh?"
>"Can I keep it?"
>Just shut it, and take it with you.
>Other.

>>27080448
>Just shut it, and take it with you.
We don't really deserve it. We stabbed the man in the back then chopped off his hand while he wasn't looking. Hardly honorable.

Let's just take it and talk later.

>>27080448
"What is wrong father?"

He staring at the box so something is up?

>>27080448
Ask our father what is wrong.

Tell our father that we do not think we deserve the man's sword.

>>27080448
>Just shut it, and take it with you.
It'll serve as a reminder of the seriousness of taking a life, something little Nico clearly didn't take lightly.

>>27080448
>Just shut it, and take it with you.
I have feeling this sword is going to cause us problems in the long run.

>>27080532
>>27080499
>>27080482
>>27080480
>>27080588
Okay, taking the dead man's sword. Writing.

File: 1378551374114.jpg-(55 KB, 640x427, gun.jpg)

55 KB JPG

>>27080612

You shut the case, and lock it, looking up at your father. He looks to be on the edge of saying something, before he shakes his head, and nods.

"Good gift, hm?"
"Yes," You drum your fingers on the case, thinking about what to say- but no. There really wasn't much to say, "I don't feel like I earned it though."

Your father gives a shrug, before taking the box, locking it shut, and giving the key back to you.

He loads the sword up in the carriage, and then, after a final talk to the carriage driver, lifts you inside and follows after. Home to Marseilles. It will be good to be home. Five days journey, if you avoid the snow.

Your family may not be at the highest social strata, or particularly wealthy, but you were thankful that your family at least owned its own house in the city, crowded though it was with your mother, your two sisters, two grandfathers, and a grandmother.

Your father and yourself arrive in Marseilles on December 13th, in the middle of a dreary snow fall, the carriage pulling in front of your family's home with promises of great cheer and wonderful celebrations at a family reunited.

After unloading the cargo, a task very familiar after months on a sailing ship of war, your father and you stand again in front of your old house, smiling happily.

A rap on the green door, and it opens to your sister, Beatrice. She brightens immediately at the sight of the both of you, and screams in to the house that you're home, leaping upon your father in tearful jubilation. You lean past, looking inside- a roaring fire, your mother, your other sister, Josette, waiting expectantly at the entrance to the living room.

Good to be home. You enter, dragging in your luggage, and immediately your mother gasps at the sight of you. Right. Scar.
"Oh my god, Nicolas, what has your father done to you!" She kneels down, holding you tight enough to wrench the breath from your body.

"I think he looks quite manly!" Your little sister Beatrice pipes in cheerily.
"I think he looks like a pus ridden wreck," Your older sister Josette tosses in with a smile, "I hope you didn't lose any teeth to scurvy out there."
"Hah, Josette," Your father lumbers, dragging the rest of your luggage, your mother glaring up at him in mute fury, "You and your wit."

You really wish your father wouldn't coddle her like that.

"François! Explain to me why our son is disfigured!" Your mother finally lets go of you- thank god for that, you were about to pass out.
"Oh, Marie, please, he looks fine-"
"Fine? Fine! Are we raising a child or a pirate? An inch further and he'd be blind in one eye!"
"An inch further away and he wouldn't have been hit."
"That's hardly the point, you promised me he would be safe!"
"And he is, see?" Your father pats you on the head, "No ghost. Just a boy, happy to be home. And hungry- can we close the door now?"

Your mother rolls her eyes up, and with a few muttered curses, shuts the door, gives you chairs by the fire, and ensconce you in blankets.

Good to be home.

Your grandparents follow your mother's example, bemoaning the state of your face. "He used to look so innocent! Now, he's just the same as any wandering brute!" You do take a bit of offense to that. Your father waits. As soon as all the members of the family gather in the room with the fire place, your father starts the great reveal- starting small, a British sailor's hat, an American tobacco pipe he had bought, little trinkets shown off with great show and aplomb. Your father loves nothing more than to be center stage. He invents ridiculous backstories for each item, claiming that George Washington, the rebel general himself had given this officer's baton, that he had wrested this naval button from Lord Cornwallis himself- grand lies, the kind that you can get away with because they're funny.

Then, he opens the box of prize money- he had insisted that you put yours in as well, converted it all to coin to look all the better, like a chest of treasure, and everyone draws in a long breath of awe, impressed by the haul. Your father breaths a sigh of relief. You distantly realize that he was actually worried that the family would be disappointed he hadn't come back a chevalier.

Your mother declares that, while good, it hardly justified the risk that your father had put you in, before she immediately takes the coins up to her room to jot down and test to see if they're authentic.

You have a very happy set of holidays indeed- for the first time in a very long time, the Durands owe no money to anyone.

>Timeskip time.
>First, let's set an objective- one would assume that we would want to become a naval officer. To do that, one becomes an aspirant on board a ship- equivalent to a midshipman. You have a leg up because your father bucked the rules all the time, but you still have to go through the proper procedures. I assume people want to be a naval captain, but if you don't, speak now or forever hold your peace.

>Second, things to learn. Nicolas is a smart kid, but he can only learn and specialize in so much, even across such a long time. To make things simple, it's going to be a primary, secondary, and tertiary- what you know almost perfectly, second best, and third best. You'll have familiarity with all the other skills listed, so don't worry too much about being an idiot. Nicolas already knows the basics of firearms, and navigation, and knows english fluently. Still has an accent, so he can't be a spy yet, but he's got a leg up to say the least. The skills are:
>Swordplay.
>Navigation.
>Gunnery.
>Firearms.
>Leadership.
>Stealth.

>Third, the family. François will be growing older with this timeskip, along with your sisters, and mother. Your grandparents as well, though their characters are probably not going to be involved in naval adventures.

>>27081420
Primary: Swordplay
Secondary: Leadership
Tertiary: Navigation

Seems like a good skillset.

>>27081420
Yeah Naval Captain not like there's anything else we can think of that sounds awesome anyway.

Primary: Swordplay
Secondary: Leadership
Tertiary: Navigation

>>27081420
Captain indeed

>Swordplay.
>Leadership.
>Navigation.

>>27081523
>>27081539
>>27081549
Yes this seems pretty good for captaining.

>>27081523
>>27081539
>>27081549
Heh, everyone seems to universally agree on that.

Now, for the timeskip-

After a happy holiday at home, during which Nicolas Durand reacquaints himself with civilization, he applies for, and is accepted as an aspirant in the French navy. With his experience, and a letter of recommendation from the renowned Captain Picquet, he rapidly finds himself rising in the ranks.

Your father asks you, tentatively, to leave the British officer's sword behind- he superstitiously fears that a bad omen might come from it.

>Leave sword. You'll have to make do with one shoddier, but superstition might not be the best thing to ignore, considering your life.
>Take sword. It's a god damn good sword, and Captain Picquet wanted to give it to you as a gift.

Soon enough, he manages to make ensign, and assigned to the vessel, the Auguste operating out of Martinique. Here, he picked up a specialization that might broaden things for him somewhat.

>Medicine. You're no doctor, but you can stitch a wound, saw a leg, and save lives, including your own.
>Spanish. Knowing a third language can help, seeing how often Spain and France have had to team up against perfidious Albion.
>Naval architecture. You have a clever mind, and know how to keep a boat floating when it shouldn't- or maybe even improve on it.
>Sword play. Double down on this- only a fool would cross blades with you.

After the adventures though, you have to head back home- there are rumbles of discontent that you've heard, even from how distant you are. Revolution, it seems, might be contagious.

>Stay posted out at sea. Let others play politics, you're a sailor.
>Come home. You have to worry about your family- and your place in what is to come.

Timeskip will end February 23rd, 1789, if that's alright with everyone.

>>27081794
>Leave sword. You'll have to make do with one shoddier, but superstition might not be the best thing to ignore, considering your life.
We haven't earned it.
>Sword play. Double down on this- only a fool would cross blades with you.

>Come home. You have to worry about your family- and your place in what is to come.

>>27081794
>Take sword. It's a god damn good sword, and Captain Picquet wanted to give it to you as a gift.
>Sword play. Double down on this- only a fool would cross blades with you.
>Come home. You have to worry about your family- and your place in what is to come.

>>27081794
>Leave sword. You'll have to make do with one shoddier, but superstition might not be the best thing to ignore, considering your life.
>Naval architecture. You have a clever mind, and know how to keep a boat floating when it shouldn't- or maybe even improve on it.
>Stay posted out at sea. Let others play politics, you're a sailor.

>>27081794

>Leave sword

We stabbed a man in the back for it. We shall take another trophy, one that we earn in honorable combat.

>Spanish.

This can be useful if we become more than just a ship captain.

>Come home.

>>27081794
>Leave sword. You'll have to make do with one shoddier, but superstition might not be the best thing to ignore, considering your life.
>Sword play. Double down on this- only a fool would cross blades with you.
>Come home. You have to worry about your family- and your place in what is to come.

>>27081794
>Take sword. It's a god damn good sword, and Captain Picquet wanted to give it to you as a gift.
Keep the sword close, but not on display and never to be used. Let it simply serve as a reminder of our actions.

>Sword play. Double down on this- only a fool would cross blades with you.
Luck and skill combined would make a formidable swordsman, surely.

>Come home. You have to worry about your family- and your place in what is to come.
>implying we're going to skip out on the juicest event of the century.

>>27081885
Hmm. I like that actually, about keeping the sword as a reminder not to be used.

Change one leave sword to one take sword on that condition.

Okay, time to count.

Sword status.
Leave: 3
Take: 3

Skill gain.
Medicine: 0
Spanish: 1
Naval Architecture: 1
Swording: 4

Getting involved in la Révolution française:
Sail: 1
Home: 5

I'll give it like 2 minutes more, then 1d2 for the sword.

>>27081931
Take, don't use.

>>27081794
>Take sword. It's a god damn good sword, and Captain Picquet wanted to give it to you as a gift.
Keep the sword close, but not on display and never to be used. Let it simply serve as a reminder of our actions.

>Sword play. Double down on this- only a fool would cross blades with you.
>Come home. You have to worry about your family- and your place in what is to come.

This Keep the sword but don't use it instead keep it as a reminder.

>>27081794
Take sword, never use
Swordplay
Stay posted out at sea

>implying I'm going to throw in my lot with a bunch of regicides

>>27081936
>>27081942
You don't fancy using a dead man's sword- especially one earned dishonorably.

You have no qualms about what you did- you'll not wake up screaming the night. He was a warrior, a warrior that sought to kill your father. He went in there, knowing his life was on the line.

But you did stab that man in the back. Using his sword, seems to add unnecessary salt to the wound.

It's hard to explain to your father, and he seems baffled- but you can't just forget the matter. It is an important reminder, and despite everything, it was a gift. Eventually, your father relents- but warns you that it's a dangerous road you walk.

You don't use it. But in what little luggage you can take with you, is always a finely wrought sword with a basket hilt filigreed in silver set in a red lined sheath that you never draw. It's an important reminder. It is rare for it to come out- usually when you have to move things. It's always irritating, to have men come and gape at such a fine blade. A few of your fellow officers that spotted it have offered to buy it from you, but you don't sell it. One or two asked why you used a hanger sword that rattles when you draw it, but when you got a chance to demonstrate your talents, nobody questions your taste in arms.

You're an ensign now, and nineteen years old besides- nearing the point when you can make lieutenant. You're in luck- the Auguste is to anchor in Toulon harbor. One last patrol for Barbary corsairs, then homeward bound. It'll be a quick to get to Marseilles from Toulon, so you can properly enjoy shore leave.

Just as your thoughts return to home, you hear shouts from up above. Great. Somebody did spot some Barbary corsairs.

>Sorry for the slow thread tonight- brain isn't braining tonight. Next episode- pirates! Revolutionary sentiment! Dynastic shenanigans!

>>27082055
Yes! Now we'll be able to really get into the fights.

Archived.
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html

Bump.

>>27086035
Why would you bump a dead quest thread where the OP already left? What is wrong with you?