Dead Lines

Actually, there is one interesting situation a-brewin' this week. To give ye a little background:


I alerted our Carpenter Master to the fact that one of our plank owners had converted part of the hold into a cabin with no one's notice, and had a group of the pressed crew living there. So the Master gave the plank'er until today to seek the proper permissions or dismantle his makeshift quarters.


I thus find myself hovering like a carrion bird, waiting for my turn at the carcass (nice pirate-y metaphor, that). It appeared as though there were too many of said pressed crew stuffed into one tiny little cargo bay. At this point it becomes an issue for the quartermaster, but the plank'er wouldn't allow us access, and the blaggards all pretended to speak Portuguese, so I had no idea how many needed reassignment to regular quarters. The barrister representing our Marque-Holders said threatening a flogging at this point might give the plank'er cause to spread rumors of mutiny and dissent through the rest of the crew, so I wait for the Carpenter Master to resolve his issues and in the course of his actions suss out how many are quartered illegally.

We shall see what tomorrow brings. My lash hand is twitchy.