Libertymen Ashore, 23rd May, Oporto

What on earth was.. going on? De Guarde was clutching his mug to his chest and looked more and more confused by the moment. So there was no ship to board, and there was no danger, though he thought he recognised Chase. He blinked and took a sip.

Well the provosts were all about now, but squeezed amongst men, which were lead by their curiosity, drink or just the fact that they just happened to be there. He couldn't see where Shepherd went, and was in danger of being carried away himself, what with the large river of men.

So there wasn't any danger, was it? Whatever Chase was doing, was certainly causing a great deal of confusion, and more faces appeared out the doors of several houses and another tavern, all wanting to see, if there had been a sudden surge of the French, or who had gotten so drunk as to cause that stir.

Thompson finally managed to push his way through the door to see what was going on outside.

There wasn't a fight. He couldn't help being a little disappointed by that, though the provosts seemed to look lost now there wasn't a fight to break up. Hopefully they wouldn't collar him now for being one of the ones in the bar fight earlier. They must have better things to do, after all.

He turned to go back in for his cards. He wasn't about to let some sneaking thief of a soldier pinch those.

"Someone get those two idiots down from there,," one of the provosts said, before crossing towards Chase and Dyer himself to try to dislodge them. "Hey! Wasn't you two in that fight earlier?"

There was Thompson and Taylor now, too. That was all of their group. Chase waved a fist in the air and yelled, "The deck's ours, boys! We done it!"

Shepherd, sensing that a joke was being played, held his silence and instead crept up behind De Gua rde. "C'mon, let's get off outta here an' find summat fun to do!"

The two seamen who had stirred up so much confusion leapt off their separate crates and melted away into the darkness, only to scoop up double handfuls of harbour muck that they had hastily collected earlier.

"Give 'em a broadside 'fore they runs off!" Preddie called and he and Chase let fly with the handfuls of muck, aiming at the provosts.

Thompson hastily gathered up his cards and slipped them into his pocket before heading back out of the door, trying to figure where the other Terpsies were heading to. If there was going to be trouble, he'd rather be with them than risk anything happening to him while he was on his own. There was safety in numbers, after all, especially when there were soldiers and provosts around.

He bumped into someone, who, from his size, was either de Guarde, or Andrew Shepherd. He blinked, trying to see which, which wasn't easy in the dark, with both of them wearing sailor's shore-going rig.

De Guarde's turned around at Shepherd's words and looked rather surprised to see him appear so suddenly, behind him. Still he nodded and clutched his mug closer wondering only for a moment if he should have returned it to that tavern or if nobody would notice it gone anyway. It wasn't that he intended to steal it, just that the effort of going back in and then out was really not worth the trouble of one mug. Not with all the people now causing a proper 'traffic' jam.

He paused a moment to debate whether the offer was swell and then grinned with a nod:" Aye, jus' you lead the way!"

It was then that he heard a resounding splat and could see with the corner of his eye a provost struck by the muck. The man cursed and wiped the filth of his face before, trying again to fight the river of men, pushing towards where the damned dirt had come from. "HALT!" He yelled and so did two more. "Halt! You're under arrest!" But, as people cheered the two men on, some loud due to drunkness, some more subdued but still there, their shouts were barely louder than the lot.

De Guarde was about to turn, when he felt a bump pushing him forward in to the marine - slop dressed - boy. He turned and was about to snap 'watch it' when he saw the familiar face and dress of their 'lost' marine. " Hey!"

Their aim had been true and now the provosts were howling that they were under arrest. They'd have to catch the seamen first. Good luck to those bastards! Chase heaved another double-handful of muck, then cried, "Boarders! Recall, boarders!"

Preddie was already scampering away into the darkness, with Dyer - who'd helped gather up the muck - hard on his heels. With a laugh, Chase cut a brief jig in the street before following them, bold in his certainty that the provosts wouldn't be bale to get close enough to him to be able to lay hold of him. The drunken, shouting crowd of men in the street made that impossible.

Within the crowd, Shepherd grinned and tugged at De Guarde's arm. "This way, before them bastards spots us. They'll be lookin' for any lad in slops!"

"OUT of the way!" A man shouted, obviously a dirty faced provost. There were curses and other shouts, threats and demands voiced, but the drunken crowd was anything but helpful. Rather than stumbling away from the men, they slowed their progress in any way they could, and once nearly a fight broke out as one of the heavily besotted men first well to the ground then with a loud angry cry swung his arm at whom he'd thought to be an offender. Missing the said man, for he'd moved a lot further ahead he struck another equally drunk man.

With the chaos starting to get out of hand and the provosts torn between chasing after Chase and the others, arresting each man wearing slops, it was a high time for all the guilty to get well away.

De Guarde who'd not payed attention to the crowd and was as easily distracted as a somewhat affected boy could be, turned back to Shepherd and grinned, nodding with full agreement to what he'd just said. It was after a moment of thought and with all sinking in that his nodding was repeated a bit more tamely. "Well wot's yer waiting, you Tar!" He exclaimed. "It ain't your words that will get us going! But our feet!" He hesitated then with a small shrug. "Could loose t' slops if that'll make them miss us!" And he chuckled at the thought, finding a muck covered provost another reason for a good laugh.

"Sorry, Mathew," Thompson said, inwardly wondering if they were going to spend their entire run ashore trying to get away from bar fights and provosts. At least he couldn't be accused of... whatever it was, that had got them hopping mad.

"C'mon, lads, what's keepin' you? Time to split!" he said, and darted in the direction that he thought Cob Chase and Chicken Dyer had gone, glancing at the lads to make sure they were with him. It wouldn't do to lose those two now, after all.

"Get to runnin', then!" Shepherd cried, already putting his shorter legs to use. Chase and the others had disappeared, but Taylor was loitering innocently near a doorway not far ahead. It was no trick to guess which way the other seamen had gone if Taylor was hanging around there.

De Guarde followed after both Shepherd and Thompson, stumbling and tripping a couple of times. he cursed the floor which was bloody uneven, the stones that covered it, that were slippers and the damn crowd that was in the way! He noticed Taylor and called to the Terpsies.

"O'er there!" It was rather hard to run with a mug of drink, and not spill. He slowed and stopped, took a large swig, and then began running after the two again. Shepherd was just too much like a Tar, so that once or twice he'd had to look again to be certain it was even him!

"Keep up, do!" Thompson called back. Ah, there was Taylor, which meant the others couldn't be far away. He wondered just how much trouble they were going to end up in if the provosts caught up with them now. It'd be nice if the place could at least try to stay level... He'd been at sea too long, he decided, resting a hand on the door-jamb to steady himself as he waited for de Guarde.

"Hurry up!" Taylor hissed, pretending not to watch the three newcomers directly. Chase and the other two were already inside, helping themselves to whatever food the house's owner had to offer.

Shepherd got up to the carpenter's mate and grinned. "Can't hurrry too much, or them provosts'll spot us!"

De Guarde passed Thompson and slipped in, grinning even if a little out of breath. His mug was still in hand, though he'd emptied it a little for an easier run. The woman would probably not notice he's run of with it anyway. "M' accounter for.. n' Shep'lad too!" He nearly danced into the room, stumbling a little on the last few steps.

"N' that lobster's bringin' up t' rear!" He nearly sang, chuckling and giggling, hyped at the escape, or hopefully an escape for awhile atleast. Outside the shouting was heard, curses and drunken yells.

Thompson ducked into the house after de Guarde. Bloody, bloody provosts. Couldn't they just leave well enough alone? "I'm jus' makin' sure them darn soldiers ain't goin' to get you lot, that's what," he said, closing the door before their pursuers went running past at full pelt.

"So, reckon we can do anythin' that won't mean we'll get in more trouble? I don't want to have to keep running if I can help it - it's not what I'd planned to be doin' this run ashore, arter all."

"Why would we? Wosn't it fun?" The boy grinned and whirled about before he landed himself into a seat and hugged the mug. The thing was pretty much empty by now. "Did you see it?.. A whole broadside o' muck right at their faces!" He turned a bit quieter when he realised that this could bring on some unwanted attention and ears which could well be connected to mouths that would tell on them.

"s' anway. It wos fun!" He paused a moment and looked at the marine, as if judging whether he could trust him, what with him being a marine and not a Tar. "You know.. is funny." He murmured and chuckled. " You's a marine n' you should have us in chain' if we cause trouble, but you ain't no better than us in this!"

"Gettin' in trouble's never fun, Mathew," the Marine said. "I never caused any of it, anyhow." He grinned. It was rather strange, if you thought about it. "I don't put folks in irons, I just stand guard on 'em when they'm there. An' Marine can end up there just as well as anyone else, after all."

He heard footsteps and voices go past outside. "Wait. If they ain't gone, we don't want to walk right into 'em, do we? There'd be no end of trouble if we done that, after all. An' all i wanted was quiet evenin' ashore."

"Jus' fray kwit, lats," Chase advised, his cheek round with a hunk of fresh bread. "An' alp ursalfs ta dum pred."

Shepherd giggled but the topman only grinned.

"Bread, lads," Preddie translated, holding out the tin plate with the bread loaf on it.

"What 'ave you been saying?" De Guarde looked at Chase funny, and tore himself a piece. "Jus' frakwiwha?" He repeated and motioned for the older marine to sit, smirking at Shepherd. "You look mighty fine as a tar, ye know that?" He commented playfully to the boy and then turned again to look at Thompson. He downed the mug empty and waved it a little.

"Well, our dear marine sentry." He spoke that to Thompson. "I'll say, if we do get caught.. you'll be standin' right there with us. Silly sod." And he placed the mug down. "Um.. don't need to take this back, do we?"

"Watch who you'm callin' a silly sod, nipper," Thompson said, tearing off a hunk of bread for himself. "Leave the mug. I don't think anyone'll want to go back there now, not with them blasted soldiers crawlin' all over the place." He bit into the bread. "Ice re', diss," he managed, and stopped talking to enjoy the taste of fresh-baked 'soft tommy', something they only had rarely.

Chase swallowed the bread and chuckled. "Aye, not half bad, is it? I think the old lass got some cheese or summat stashed 'way, too, but she ain't lettin' us have none."

By the door, Shepherd snorted. "I look better in red, y'know!"

"We could send him there." He pointed at Shepherd and grinned. "I'm positive he'd charm her right in gettin' them cheese, milk n' a fresh egg fer each o' us!" He looked quite innocently at Thompson and nudged the mug further from him. If the man said it could be left there, he would certainly not go and bother with it any longer. It wasn't a sort of mug he wanted to keep anyway. Not the finest quality and it had a chip on the side. Besides, he had a good ole mug himself aboard.

"Oh , I don't know, Mister.."He tried to remember which of the two Shepherd's was meant to sneak off the ship. "..well you, I think you best give me your red, n' keep this. It'd do you much better, oh yes it would! I'll even grant you my spot n' me hammock!" He burst into giggles, not quite as drunk as he was usually, but enough that he was a merry little thing.

"Oh, Sticks could charm the birds out of their nests, I dessay, if he cared to try." Thompson wouldn't say no to a bit of cheese, but he was enjoying his bread as it was without anything added. He smiled at the woman and took his hat off. "I ain't goin' back out there till I'm sure they've gone. I've done enough dodgin' around for one day."

"Bet he could, an' all," Taylor said with a smirk. "Pity he's a Marine."

"H - "Shepherd started to say, but Dyer clapped a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

"Stow it, both of ya," Chase warned. Then he looked at the woman whose kitchen they had more or less taken over. "Cheese, miss? For the bread?" The topman held up a half-eaten hunk of bread and patted the top of it, hoping what he was pantomiming made sense to her.

" To think.. a mar'ne would have had ter be t' example fer us all." The boy teased Thompson as he bit into the soft chunk of bread. It silenced him for good, atleast while he bit and chewed, his eyes closed in what could only have been described as bliss. Compared to the sort of food that they had on the ship and that he'd eaten for a damn good while, this was worth more than any fine dinner at home. Of course, if he'd been offered the later, he'd be snatching the opportunity as quick as he'd be able.

He glanced curiously at Chase to see what had made him raise his tone a little and shrugged taking another tear at the bread. So soft, so fresh and quite so nice tasting. "Cheese?" He blinked and saw that the seaman was just asking and not exactly getting a piece yet. He did turn around though ready to offer his bit of bread if cheese was to be given.

"Stow it, you," Thompson said, addressing de Guarde, though he was grinning. "I'd throw me lot in with Terpsies, even if they are mostly Tars, though." He winked at Shepherd. "Or pretendin' to be Tars, anyhow. Someone needs to try to keep you toein' the line, don't they?"

He smiled even more as the woman threw her hands up but nevertheless turned to cut each of them a decent-sized chunk of cheese.

"Thanks, miss," he said, smiling, hoping she could understand his expression if not his words. "Sorry to have barged in on you like this, an' all."