Daniel stepped with purpose as he crossed the upper gun deck, supplies in hand. He felt poorly for his most recent patient, a powder monkey had badly injured their hand. Of course he did what he could to salvage it but with the state of the ship the wound would likely become infected and the good doctor would have to amputate. At least there was a good amount of rum aboard this Man of War, it dulls the bite of an amputation. While walking away he could overhear the murmurs of comfort another monkey tried to provide. It yanked on his heart strings but there was nothing else he could do to help, so Daniel made his way to his domain on the orlop deck.
It was a nice, fairly safe place on the second last deck of the sturdy vessel. He had no other company than his more critical patients, cargo and the odd prisoner tossed into the hold. His captain did not take kindly to having extra mouths to feed so if he wasn't required to have one he didn't take one. As part of the crew, Daniel was fitted with a cutlass made of strong metal. It had served it's previous owner well from the stories he heard, though no-one spoke of how the man came to meet his death. From the way this ship was run, Daniel could only assume that the sailor had not met God or the Devil but Davy Jones instead. He hated this place.
"Mind yer step down 'ere." a familiar voice called to him. Danial had descended the stairs only a flight before running into a recurrent patient.
"an' why is that mayhap?" Daniel responded, stepping off of the stairs to allow other sailors passing.
"A She-devil, demon o' shadows be on yer deck." He responded in his gruff tone from decades of salt and sea. Daniel recalled the ship that their crew had just successfully plundered and skirted away from. A bounty is what the captain was after and he did well, they managed to secure the woman. Daniel had yet to see her but he certainly herd her. As soon as the men had un-gagged her for the captain to speak with her she spat curses and insults mightier than any blade. He had heard rumors of the woman as he tended to the wounded, making his description of he seem accurate.
"Aye, as long as she be silent an' not aiming to slit me throat I mayhap survive." Daniel jested back. His crew member did not look pleased but did not say otherwise. No-one had real friends here and that simple courtesy warning was as close as it got. Still, the hold was on the opposite side of the ship with mounds of cargo between it and his hammock. Daniel descended the stairs and quickly arrived at his station. Moving his cutlass out of the way he sat in the hammock. The wench seemed interesting but he knew better than to mess with the captain's 'guest'. After all, the captain always had his way first with the ladies, not like Daniel himself ever touched a woman in the wrong manner. If she did not want any of what he had then so be it. Daniel just shut his eyes for a quick stolen nap when he heard heavy boots descending the stairs. Jumping up he snapped to attention.
"Even' cap'n." He remarked, careful not to meet the ruthless man's gaze.
"Attend to the prisoner. She be makin' the deck a mess."
"Aye cap'n." He responded, turning to grab any necessary supplies before he made his way. He didn't know what kind of a mess she was making be it feminine, bloody wound or illness. For his sake he prayed it was not illness.
Upon retrieving any necessary supplies he made his way to the hold.
It was a nice, fairly safe place on the second last deck of the sturdy vessel. He had no other company than his more critical patients, cargo and the odd prisoner tossed into the hold. His captain did not take kindly to having extra mouths to feed so if he wasn't required to have one he didn't take one. As part of the crew, Daniel was fitted with a cutlass made of strong metal. It had served it's previous owner well from the stories he heard, though no-one spoke of how the man came to meet his death. From the way this ship was run, Daniel could only assume that the sailor had not met God or the Devil but Davy Jones instead. He hated this place.
"Mind yer step down 'ere." a familiar voice called to him. Danial had descended the stairs only a flight before running into a recurrent patient.
"an' why is that mayhap?" Daniel responded, stepping off of the stairs to allow other sailors passing.
"A She-devil, demon o' shadows be on yer deck." He responded in his gruff tone from decades of salt and sea. Daniel recalled the ship that their crew had just successfully plundered and skirted away from. A bounty is what the captain was after and he did well, they managed to secure the woman. Daniel had yet to see her but he certainly herd her. As soon as the men had un-gagged her for the captain to speak with her she spat curses and insults mightier than any blade. He had heard rumors of the woman as he tended to the wounded, making his description of he seem accurate.
"Aye, as long as she be silent an' not aiming to slit me throat I mayhap survive." Daniel jested back. His crew member did not look pleased but did not say otherwise. No-one had real friends here and that simple courtesy warning was as close as it got. Still, the hold was on the opposite side of the ship with mounds of cargo between it and his hammock. Daniel descended the stairs and quickly arrived at his station. Moving his cutlass out of the way he sat in the hammock. The wench seemed interesting but he knew better than to mess with the captain's 'guest'. After all, the captain always had his way first with the ladies, not like Daniel himself ever touched a woman in the wrong manner. If she did not want any of what he had then so be it. Daniel just shut his eyes for a quick stolen nap when he heard heavy boots descending the stairs. Jumping up he snapped to attention.
"Even' cap'n." He remarked, careful not to meet the ruthless man's gaze.
"Attend to the prisoner. She be makin' the deck a mess."
"Aye cap'n." He responded, turning to grab any necessary supplies before he made his way. He didn't know what kind of a mess she was making be it feminine, bloody wound or illness. For his sake he prayed it was not illness.
Upon retrieving any necessary supplies he made his way to the hold.
