Snippet #1909112

Edusrt grinned like a wolf, who had found a fawn trapped in deep snow, as the captain stated that the beaches could always use more driftwood. It was like he could already taste the acrid smoke, with it's faint hint of rotten eggs and hot metal. The only thing that could make the lean gunner, close to the level of joy he got from firing the ship's guns, was the promise he could fire them. A slight tremor ran down his spine, the last few cruises he had made with the Zeehaen, they hadn't run across any pirates or rowdy natives trying to attack Company holdings. He hadn't gotten to do more then mindlessly shift powder barrels and clean rust from the guns. He wanted....no needed some action, like a drunkard needed a pint of rum.

"Of course Captain" said the Demician, he could understand perfectly the man's need to have his pistols back. He would have felt naked without his own pair and if they caught up with some scum before they were long in their patrol, it would be terrible to go into battle without one's personal weapons. The familiar feeling of the grip, the comforting weight of the weapon, the mere presence could mean the difference between a seasoned professional and a clumsily, fumbling recruit.

For a time, he simply studied the pair of pistols. Well maintained, they bore the mark of a respected if not overly well known Wifieldish gunsmith. The screws were tight, the flints new, barrels clean, touch holes clear and springs in good condition. All in all, a fine pair of pistols and so his thoughts turned on how he might improve them. It was clear that they did not in fact, have the room to use the loading screw he was trying to perfect (nor would he have used it on anyone else's weapon until it was finished).

This was a challenge the gunner needed to consider carefully. Had he gone out and bought some pistols, just to tinker with, he would have just dived in with whatever idea came to mind but they weren't his pistols. They belonged to his new captain, who had a very persona attachment to them, he could tell. So he couldn't afford to make mistakes on any improvements. His teeth clamped down on the pipe stem and he sucked on it a bit. A few ideas tickled his mind, including one to cut the barrels and attached a hinge for quicker loading but he ignored them.

"A smoke" mused Edusrt, knowing some of his best work was thought up in a haze of pipe smoke, "And a nip."

Smiling, the shaven headed Demician stood up, gabbed his key and pulled the door open. Closing it behind him, he thrust the key into the lock and nodded as the tumbler clicked. Attaching the key to his belt, he walked up the passage way and ducked into his small cabin. Opening his sea chest, he pulled out a leather pouch of fine, nutty tobacco and a thin silver flask, filled with a blackberry brandy from his homeland. Slipping the flask into his belt, he packed the bowl of his pipe and headed up towards the top deck.