( Just a Parking lot for some Ideas I am having)
A brief Description of the Towne of Tinkerton along the banks of the Chicopee River in the Colony of Massachusetts, in the year of our lord 1775.
History:
Founded in 1650, it was the site of a mill and cider press built by William Tinkerton. A small village grew once Tinkerton bridge was constructed, the served the local farming communities. Raided several times by Indians during the early 1700’s A small Block house was constructed for its protection.
The Village:
The Village itself, is nestled around the common, one’s attention is first drawn to the Stone church that sits to the north of the Common, A sturdy stone church whose steeple contains a fine bell brought all the way from England. It is between the Church and the lush grass of the Common that the West Road run’s, to the East, the bridge and the Farms beyond, to the West The Connecticut River and the settlements there.
Along the Eastern edge of the green reside several businesses, First, nearest the bridge, is the Smithy of John Fullerton, Next to that is the Shoppe of Messer Charles Atwater, dealing in Cloth and other clothing related sundries.
Next to Atwater’s shoppe is by far one of the largest structures in town, Jessop’s Tavern, founded in 1702 this large structure acts not only as a public house and Inn, but also contains a Dry Goods and trading post. Run now by Henry Jessop and his extensive family, the Inn produces some of its own drink and is known for its fine meals
Basic Careers
Hunter.
Apprentice
Smith
Witchian
Wizarian
Layman
Musician
Farmhand
Watchman
Postrider
Bandit
Student
Medical
Law
Woodsman
Seaman
Midsipman
Dockhand
Advanced Career’s
Soulshot
Soldier
Minute man
Continental
Officer
Minute man
Continental
Naval
Highway man
Robber
Lawyer
Doctor
Witchian
Wizarian
Pastor
Master Smith
Master musician
Farmer
Gentleman Farmer
Road Warden
Dragoon
Indian Fighter
Minute man
Continental
Gambler
Privateer
Engineer
Scout
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
The Arrival of the Raven.
(This is sort a "mood" story for something I have been thinking about called " Muskets and Magic" Basicly colonial America with a twist.)
The fog hung thick over Boston Harbor as the carriage carrying Sir Thomas Gage, the British Military Governor of His Majesties North American Colonies came to a halt. The gray mist cast the entire area with a sense of doom, A eerie silence that was caused and amplified by it added to Gage’s increasing feeling of unease.
He pulled his finally tailored cloak tightly around himself as he step onto the cobbled road leading a short way to the pier…the specific pier he was told to be at, at the exact time. A young Captain, Seconded from the 17th Light Dragoons to act as his aide, followed closely behind him as he walked slowly towards it.
Even the lap of the water against the Dock pilings radiated foreboding. Boston was one of the Colonies largest cities, but here, on this pier, you would have thought that he and his aide were the only people on earth. The hollow foot falls of their well made boots sounded like a coffin maker’s hammer nailing the final Pin into the lid of their coffin.
The two men reached the end of the dock and cast their eyes into the hazy gloom. After a moment, as if to relieve his own tension, The captain spoke. “ Really sir…” He stated “ You are a General of His Majesties army…and Military Governor to boot, This sort of thing seems wholly beneath you” he could barely conceal the apprehension in his voice. Gage paused a moment, looking towards the harbor but seeing nothing “Oh I quite agree Mappleton…but his Majesty demands our obedience in such subjects and we are obliged to obey…” and as if a after thought “ and so we shall”. Mapleton in his Dragoon helmet, its red haired plume standing in contrast to the Smokey gray surroundings, glanced about, The General, in his Gold Trimmed Tricorn from one of London’s finest tailors strained his neck peering into the impenetrable blanket that had descended over the harbor.
It was Mappleton’s surprised gasp, precisely as the church bells rang out Six AM that drew the General’s attention. He to was shocked, but comported himself better then the young captain, as the prow of a ship sliced through the fog like a knife through warm butter. With out so much as a sound the ship seemed to slip into being as it floated silently to the dock. On its deck, Its sailors stood as if working under the gaze of the Devil himself.
It was a 20 gun Frigate called HMS Raven, a old but serviceable vessel, that had until 4 days ago, been tied to a dock in the Thames. Normally a journey over the Atlantic to Boston could take three months…HMS Raven had made it in 4 days and the crew, including the officers gathered on the bridge looked terrified.
Gage took a step back involuntarily as he watched ropes from the raven, alive like snakes, slither from their neat coils, descend the side of the ship, a cross the water and up to the mooring cleats. So strong were these things that together the pulled the considerable vessel towards the dock.
“ Saints preserve us” Mappleton muttered from behind Gage “ Steady on Mappleton…” Gage said finding his resolve “ This is the Kings High Magic”. He did not turn to see the pale expression on the Captains face as he muttered “ indeed”.
Like a great beast unrolling its tongue, a gangway descended from the Raven without so much a sound. The Tars on deck seemed to drift away from it, finding tasks to do at the furthest points from it or the main hold cover, several crossed themselves.
It was at that moment the air seemed to go perfectly still, the fog seemed to clear between Gage and the vessel as if by command as three men slowly rose up through the hatch. It was as if they were floating, carried by a wind as their long leather coach coats ( embroidered with the Royal coat of arms) fluttered around them. Each man wore a Tricornered hat (of a fashion popular 30 years ago) that cast their face in shadow. These figures, like aberrations, floated across the deck and down the gangway towards the Governor and his aide. Gage, A man who had see war at its worst, found himself unconsciously giving ground to these men as they settled on the dock before them.
“General Gage?” hissed the figure in the middle, his accent that of the English north and barely concealing a common up bringing. “ At your service sir” Gage answered surveying the three men. As if he was stepping into a light, the shadow slid from the mans face revealing his visage. His nose was thin and had obviously been broken in his youth, his skin was pale and bore the marks of smallpoxs, his teeth, that showed from his mouth that seemed to naturally hang half open, were chiped and lacked any uniformity and the mans eyes, those soulless orbs, were the color of the void.
“ I am Inquisitor Linus Cravel of the Royal Arcanium…” there was a sneer in a voice, a subconscious gloating of a man who enjoyed lording over Lords “ I trust the preparations requested in my message have been seen to”. “ Yes Inquisitor…All is in order. I believe…” he started but Cravel’s hand shot up seemingly producing a gilded Envelope from Thin Air “ I have your instructions ?” Cravel finished Gage’s sentence as he handed him the envelope.
Merrily by examining the exterior Gage was taken aback by the Authority behind it. Transfixed on it’s fine parchment were the seals of King George III, The Prime Minister, Lord North and The amazing seal of Lord Escher, the Grand Magi of the British Isles and head of Royal Arcanum. It was Eschers seal that amazed gage, light seemed to flow through it raised lines, St George and Dragon, located over a Pentagram, seemed to engage in combat before his eyes.
“ I trust you’ll find everything in order….” Cravel spat with disdain “My Lord”. All Gage could do was nod as minutes later he was following the men to his coach, still cognizant that he had not been introduced, nor even new the description of the Inquisitor’s two companions.
As the Coach made its way through boston, heading towards the Massachusetts countryside and the home Gage had confiscated for the Arcanum’s use, The General broke open the seals and read the orders there in, a deep feeling of dread growing inside.
The fog hung thick over Boston Harbor as the carriage carrying Sir Thomas Gage, the British Military Governor of His Majesties North American Colonies came to a halt. The gray mist cast the entire area with a sense of doom, A eerie silence that was caused and amplified by it added to Gage’s increasing feeling of unease.
He pulled his finally tailored cloak tightly around himself as he step onto the cobbled road leading a short way to the pier…the specific pier he was told to be at, at the exact time. A young Captain, Seconded from the 17th Light Dragoons to act as his aide, followed closely behind him as he walked slowly towards it.
Even the lap of the water against the Dock pilings radiated foreboding. Boston was one of the Colonies largest cities, but here, on this pier, you would have thought that he and his aide were the only people on earth. The hollow foot falls of their well made boots sounded like a coffin maker’s hammer nailing the final Pin into the lid of their coffin.
The two men reached the end of the dock and cast their eyes into the hazy gloom. After a moment, as if to relieve his own tension, The captain spoke. “ Really sir…” He stated “ You are a General of His Majesties army…and Military Governor to boot, This sort of thing seems wholly beneath you” he could barely conceal the apprehension in his voice. Gage paused a moment, looking towards the harbor but seeing nothing “Oh I quite agree Mappleton…but his Majesty demands our obedience in such subjects and we are obliged to obey…” and as if a after thought “ and so we shall”. Mapleton in his Dragoon helmet, its red haired plume standing in contrast to the Smokey gray surroundings, glanced about, The General, in his Gold Trimmed Tricorn from one of London’s finest tailors strained his neck peering into the impenetrable blanket that had descended over the harbor.
It was Mappleton’s surprised gasp, precisely as the church bells rang out Six AM that drew the General’s attention. He to was shocked, but comported himself better then the young captain, as the prow of a ship sliced through the fog like a knife through warm butter. With out so much as a sound the ship seemed to slip into being as it floated silently to the dock. On its deck, Its sailors stood as if working under the gaze of the Devil himself.
It was a 20 gun Frigate called HMS Raven, a old but serviceable vessel, that had until 4 days ago, been tied to a dock in the Thames. Normally a journey over the Atlantic to Boston could take three months…HMS Raven had made it in 4 days and the crew, including the officers gathered on the bridge looked terrified.
Gage took a step back involuntarily as he watched ropes from the raven, alive like snakes, slither from their neat coils, descend the side of the ship, a cross the water and up to the mooring cleats. So strong were these things that together the pulled the considerable vessel towards the dock.
“ Saints preserve us” Mappleton muttered from behind Gage “ Steady on Mappleton…” Gage said finding his resolve “ This is the Kings High Magic”. He did not turn to see the pale expression on the Captains face as he muttered “ indeed”.
Like a great beast unrolling its tongue, a gangway descended from the Raven without so much a sound. The Tars on deck seemed to drift away from it, finding tasks to do at the furthest points from it or the main hold cover, several crossed themselves.
It was at that moment the air seemed to go perfectly still, the fog seemed to clear between Gage and the vessel as if by command as three men slowly rose up through the hatch. It was as if they were floating, carried by a wind as their long leather coach coats ( embroidered with the Royal coat of arms) fluttered around them. Each man wore a Tricornered hat (of a fashion popular 30 years ago) that cast their face in shadow. These figures, like aberrations, floated across the deck and down the gangway towards the Governor and his aide. Gage, A man who had see war at its worst, found himself unconsciously giving ground to these men as they settled on the dock before them.
“General Gage?” hissed the figure in the middle, his accent that of the English north and barely concealing a common up bringing. “ At your service sir” Gage answered surveying the three men. As if he was stepping into a light, the shadow slid from the mans face revealing his visage. His nose was thin and had obviously been broken in his youth, his skin was pale and bore the marks of smallpoxs, his teeth, that showed from his mouth that seemed to naturally hang half open, were chiped and lacked any uniformity and the mans eyes, those soulless orbs, were the color of the void.
“ I am Inquisitor Linus Cravel of the Royal Arcanium…” there was a sneer in a voice, a subconscious gloating of a man who enjoyed lording over Lords “ I trust the preparations requested in my message have been seen to”. “ Yes Inquisitor…All is in order. I believe…” he started but Cravel’s hand shot up seemingly producing a gilded Envelope from Thin Air “ I have your instructions ?” Cravel finished Gage’s sentence as he handed him the envelope.
Merrily by examining the exterior Gage was taken aback by the Authority behind it. Transfixed on it’s fine parchment were the seals of King George III, The Prime Minister, Lord North and The amazing seal of Lord Escher, the Grand Magi of the British Isles and head of Royal Arcanum. It was Eschers seal that amazed gage, light seemed to flow through it raised lines, St George and Dragon, located over a Pentagram, seemed to engage in combat before his eyes.
“ I trust you’ll find everything in order….” Cravel spat with disdain “My Lord”. All Gage could do was nod as minutes later he was following the men to his coach, still cognizant that he had not been introduced, nor even new the description of the Inquisitor’s two companions.
As the Coach made its way through boston, heading towards the Massachusetts countryside and the home Gage had confiscated for the Arcanum’s use, The General broke open the seals and read the orders there in, a deep feeling of dread growing inside.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Dr Tong’s House of 3d Vomitt Part II
Well, after being thrown up on several times the odds finally caught up with me. On Sunday night I caught the Stomach Thingy. I was up every 15 minutes, The good news is I manage to loss 6 pounds, the bad new is, it sucked.
We thought Owen might be ready for Milk based formula again on Sunday…he wasn’t. Kevin on the other hand managed to recover kind of quickly from the whole affair and is back to his normal diet now.
I listened to the Unabridged version of “1776” while I was sick, wow it rocked. Its hard to believe just how tough things were for us back then and just how much George Washington deserves a huge Monument.
We thought Owen might be ready for Milk based formula again on Sunday…he wasn’t. Kevin on the other hand managed to recover kind of quickly from the whole affair and is back to his normal diet now.
I listened to the Unabridged version of “1776” while I was sick, wow it rocked. Its hard to believe just how tough things were for us back then and just how much George Washington deserves a huge Monument.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Dr. Tong’s House of 3D Vomit…
It all started Tuesday, when my 7 month old Owen decided that he was going to shower his daddy in baby barf. He had caught a stomach bug and was a little fountain of throw up ever since. Last night, my oldest, Kevin decided to get in on the action as not to be out done by his brother and has been a one man Vomitorium ever since.
Oh the joys of parenting. Owen hasn’t thrown up in a wild since we started the Soy formula and clear liquids, however he was up and crying every time his brother got sick..YIKES!!!
This just add’s to are already spectacular fall, truth be known, it could be allot worse, but it also could be allot better.
Oh the joys of parenting. Owen hasn’t thrown up in a wild since we started the Soy formula and clear liquids, however he was up and crying every time his brother got sick..YIKES!!!
This just add’s to are already spectacular fall, truth be known, it could be allot worse, but it also could be allot better.
Monday, November 19, 2007
My Son...
We were driving through Newark on Sunday, my son and I and we happened to see a group of about 30 college kids walking down Main street together. Some were carrying garbage bags so I assumed they may have been cleaning the along a road some place as a Frat project or something. I told my son “ Hey look…it could be a Parade” there was a pause, then he answered “ Or a Angry Mob”
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Gosh!...
I have really fallen asleep behind the ol blog wheel here. Im forcing myself to put something in this so pardon me if it rambles. I am apparently speaking to no one so…Tough’n up cream puff!!! You’ll read what I type and you’ll like it!!!
My TV viewing is about the same, Monday, It’s Chuck, Heroes and Journeyman ( I try to go to bed…but this show just traps me). Tuesday’s it House, Thursday’s Earl, The Office and Scrubs. The rest of the time its just surfn I guess
My eldest soon has had a time at school, the last two weeks he has been acting up and getting unsatisfactory reports. I think he may be coming around though…I hope he is. He has his physical evaluation today to see if he needs any help with finer motor skills.
My youngest is doing fine, he has had a bit of a cough since the beginning of September but we have been to the Doctors and she says its nothing. He is still bald ( IMHO) and still doesn’t have eyebrows ( People try to tell me that he does but they are light).
I attended my first reenactment in a year 2 weeks ago, it was fun to get out again, I had issues with the event but all and all I had a good time.
My TV viewing is about the same, Monday, It’s Chuck, Heroes and Journeyman ( I try to go to bed…but this show just traps me). Tuesday’s it House, Thursday’s Earl, The Office and Scrubs. The rest of the time its just surfn I guess
My eldest soon has had a time at school, the last two weeks he has been acting up and getting unsatisfactory reports. I think he may be coming around though…I hope he is. He has his physical evaluation today to see if he needs any help with finer motor skills.
My youngest is doing fine, he has had a bit of a cough since the beginning of September but we have been to the Doctors and she says its nothing. He is still bald ( IMHO) and still doesn’t have eyebrows ( People try to tell me that he does but they are light).
I attended my first reenactment in a year 2 weeks ago, it was fun to get out again, I had issues with the event but all and all I had a good time.
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
A mid week update…..
First thing, last weekend I attended the GWA fall event in Newville. It was my second event as Company Commander and was a so so time. I really enjoyed seeing how far the BEF/ Commonwealth company has come, they looked great and for the most part had a terrific time. My Group, the Buffs, didn’t have a good time during the day and that seriously bummed me out, but once we cleared up communications I think everything turned around. I didn’t enjoy it as much due to the fact that I spent so much time filling out paper work and managing things….I do that at work.
My oldest son hasn’t been behaving well at school, we have been trying to get him back into line, the last two nights he has been sent to his room. Don’t know why all the sudden he is acting up but hopefully we can get him back to his normal good boy self.
My oldest son hasn’t been behaving well at school, we have been trying to get him back into line, the last two nights he has been sent to his room. Don’t know why all the sudden he is acting up but hopefully we can get him back to his normal good boy self.
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