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 Those Who Trespass Against Us

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PostSubject: Those Who Trespass Against Us   Those Who Trespass Against Us Icon_minitimeFri May 22, 2009 7:55 am

Mr. M sat in his cabin and moved log books around the table and began flipping through the merchant and accounting records of the Company he had acquired on his last excursion in Orleans. He had only managed to devise that Pitre was the location of the Order by the strange pattern going to and from there in the record books.

He looked at the piece of parchment his contact from Pitre had given him. It had only shown where an entrance to the catacombs was. She had failed to mention the way would be secured. He studied the log books of Marcus Villnius. Any mention of the order was merely hinted at. Nothing about the locks he had found in Pitre in the house cellar. The craftsmanship was nothing he had seen before. If the masons had built the chambers beneath Pitre there was no doubt it was done to protect the value of what was inside. He only hoped that the abandoned offices in Orleans would still have the key to opening the locks.

“There must be some hidden vault in the abandoned offices.” Mr. M muttered to himself. “But where?”

Mr. M slammed down the log books onto the table in frustration.

“Captain to the top deck” yelled Mr. Hooper from outside.

Mr. M sighed and headed for the cabin door.

“What is it Mr. Hooper?” Mr. M squinted as he adjusted to the midday sunlight.

“Sir, lookout says he thought he saw something three points larboard aft.” Mr. Hooper motioned with his left hand, extending the spyglass with his right.

Mr. M moved quickly to Mr. Hooper’s side taking the spyglass and raising it to his eye. He slowly scanned the empty horizon. “What did he see?”

“Said he may have seen a mast.”

“Just one?”

“Aye, but none of us could make out anything. A trick of the eyes perhaps?”

M took a long silent look at the empty horizon again before lowering the spyglass, “Break out the stuns’l. Get me as much speed as you can.”

“Aye, sir” Mr Hooper nodded and began shouting orders.

Mr. M stared aft a grin creeping across his face.
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