About our original Canadian Silver Pourer John Masterson.
When I discovered Beaver Bullion Canada I said, “At last a Canadian Silver Pourer!” While the Masterson Pirate Skull logo Bars were my original collecting plan, this high relief Bobcat really caught my eye and became centerpiece of my inspired allegorical and fictional writing in this forth YouTube video episode.
The actual John Masterson lives in Canada and pours his own trademark Masterson silver bars that are Beaver Bullion’s original line, as well as newer bars, rounds and products for the precious metals Collector's and investor's market. So he has two personalities like me. I learned he has the largest Silver pouring operation in Canada providing Poured Silver bullion products through a select few retailers introducing his brand into the International market. A "third line" by Beaver Bullion is commissioned by an Ontario retailer The Coin Shoppe. These works do not have the Beaver Bullion or the Masterson markings but the letters TCS but I still consider these as the product of John Masterson. He has never sold directly to the market himself but rather leave that to his Pros so that he may focus his energy and passion into his art and production. He has been known to make a few appearances in Coin shows around Ontario and has even done an interview on Canadian Silver Saver’s YouTube Channel.
Want to see more products than these?
Beaver Bullion Products sold at;
The Coin Shoppe https://thecoinshoppe.ca/product-category/bullion/?product_brand=beaver-bullion&post_type=product
At Canadian Silver saver Website https://canadiansilversaver.com/collections/poured-silver
And our fellow Steemians @philimint ‘s website https://www.phelimint.com/blogs/mint-reviews/beaver-bullion-john-masterson
Chronicles of The Bloody Raven Expanded Universe : Dr Masterson
Dr. Masterson stood up, his composure remaining steadfast confident and civil. "No more questions? Then thank you Gentlemen for your time." He dismissed the gathered people of the Press with a nod to end the Press briefing, afterwards, many of his Election staff filed into his spacious study. All he knew by name, as friends, neighbors, and former patients. Loyal folk that also wanted to see his vision of Governorship come to pass. He looked them in the eyes. "I have failed you my friends. We did our best. You are good people." Old Mrs. Carmichael wept aloud. He stepped out from his desk and clasped his hands around the widow's. “There, there Mrs. Carmichael you have been of fine service to me and all of us here. We all bear the burden of these circumstances. Your pastries have kept many of us energized and productive through the whole campaign.” One by one he shook the hands of each volunteer as they departed the room. "Thank you Ladies and Gentlemen. We did all could have done. We did well despite the outcome. I wanted to change the system for the better. For all and not accommodate just the powerful. With that everyone one of you will always be welcome in my home. I will endeavor to speak on your behalf.”
Masterson crumpled his speech in his hands and fell back into his favorite chair from where he crafted his best speeches. The election results were difficult to swallow. He knew had had the clear majority of the voting public. His rallies were popular, well attended, and often overflowing as his opponents were barren then resorting to paying people off the streets to listen to them. Meanwhile his opponent Featherston, the victorious Incumbent was a known scoundrel not only drawing a taxpayer’s salary but salaries from the City’s Pilgrim Bank and a group of companies that have been unethical in many business practices yet their sins always have been miraculously absolved by paltry fines that merely amounted to a cost of doing business. Then there was the dirty business of the Press. To pin accusations of infidelity and bribery when no such thing before God’s holy sight had never happened. His demand for proof of these accusations proved futile against the Management’s policy to protect the safety of their sources. Nor the treat of a lawsuit wouldn’t be timely enough to be settled before the election, only a retraction in small print in the back of the paper. The damage was already done.
Carson was a blossoming accountant by training, his thick rimmed spectacles , simple Hampton hair style, and featureless open jacket seem to fit his trade and role to a tee. “Doctor!” He lifted an ungainly burlap sack onto the table and then opened the top.
“What is this?” said Dr. Masterson.
“Ballots, thousands of filled ballots that were your votes are found at the back dust bins of each of the polling stations! Dr. Masterson your opponent committed election fraud! The officials were deliberately looking the other way as these valid ballots were discarded!” Masterson clutched a handful, quickly scrutinized each of them. “These are not spoiled Ballots!…they are supposed to be locked away for ten days for the sake of resolution and adjudication policy.”He suddenly recalled a friend from New York quoted a warning in the past, “Remember the first rule of politics. The ballots don't make the results, the counters make the results. The counters Keep counting.”
Masterson was rarely in such an emotional state. “Bring the sack Carson. Maddie, my Coat if you please!”
Furious, he stormed into the Adjudicators office unannounced just as Mr. Featherston was just departing. “Oh Dr. Masterson, I thought you have retired to your home after your concession speech. Er...what brings you here?”
The Dr.’s voice tinged with contempt, “These Sir!” He held up a fistful of official ballots in front of his opponent’s face. “Bring me here!” and without further word he stepped around the man .
The Judge’s secretary protest, "Wait, you cannot enter without an appointment Sir!"
The Dr. stepped pasted the secretary and upon entering the office unannounced, Masterson observed Judge Peabody counting what more than a few stacks of newly minted George III gold Guinea.
Without looking up from his desk the Judge remarked, “What is it Mr. Featherston? Is there more? Well out with it?” Peabody was surprised to see it was not Featherston, "I say, don't you bother to knock?"
The next day the maid placed the tea service in the middle of the study between the men gathered in the Dr.’s study. A gloomy mood hung in the air as they assessed their situation. It was the system. The polling station adjudicators referred the matter to Electoral Committee and they in turn referred it to the Judicial Board posting a sizable bond.
"That man is on his payroll" protested Biggs, "These people don't go by the rules!"
The fatigued Masterson bit his tongue as if the sleepless night didn’t grind his spirit down even further "We must go through the proper channels."
"We are almost out of money." Droned Carson.
"It is my integrity… God… is my witness!" A tone of resignation finally crept into his voice. “I have already taken it upon myself to report this matter to the Ministry and the Press.”
“What good will that do? The Ministry will sweep this under the rug and we already know who the Press sides with.”
There was a commotion outside the Study door, the maid entered, curtsied then opened the door as Lady Masterson stepped in. “Excuse me but I think you what to see this right of way my Husband.” She stepped aside allowing a pair of burdened young lads space to enter."Dr Masterson!" The pair of young men placed the heavy crates carefully on the floor, the Roggan twins were always cheerful and the trip to the wharves yielded more than long awaited mail from the mission project. Tim opened up his lapel pulling out an envelope and thrust it towards the Dr anxious to hear news from the fledgling colony he helped finance when the country was not only looking for a place to not only to rid their prison population but also of the undesirables of no social benefit. Inspired by a calling to minister, Masterson was compelled to help these most needy of people rather than see them simply cast away.
The letter from Reverend Longstreet painted a picture of optimism, hope, and progress free from the trappings a corrupt Society that has only a veneer of civility in his own country. He says that their surveyors found silver ore deposits, purest that they have ever seen. The Natives will allow us as much as we need and they call it 'Maqualle-dak-kuuq', the 'Metal of Healing' and it could prove beneficial to his patients. And there was something else. It's in the two heavy crates he sent. "They were cast by our friends. You know what to do with these Sir. God speed you Dr Masterson." Tom pried open the first crate and lifted a carefully wrapped bundle. Hope now manifested in a brilliant shiny opportunity. The twins laid out each wrinkle textured bar. The fineness certified to be over 95% better than sterling. Some were hallmarked by a fanciful letter “V” and others the symbol of a Bear head. "If it tis what I think tis is there’s a fortune here Dr!"
A hundred bars of pure silver lay out on his desk. It is the representation of freedom. With each bar fashioned in a crude manner yet pleasing to the eye. They are a work of art and as individual as each of his cherished patients. He felt his wife's affectionate hand reach around his right elbow. "You know this could be God's advice to pursue that dream of yours, when one door closes another opens."
"I could fully outfit four ships with more than everything we need." He clasped his left hand onto hers. His eyes brightened as if his spirit renewed itself there, "By God this is it!"
Mary leaned closer to her husband of Sixteen years. She knew there was more to this greying man's medical skill. His character was even surprisingly much like her Pastor father of who had whole heartedly approved of their union, a man of Integrity. She ran hand through his long hair. "This is something you really wanted to do. Let's leave this mad politics that is destroying you." She sighed, "I will regret selling this house but I will be with you, and you are happiest as the good Doctor"
Masterson's shoulders relaxed, joy returned to his tired face, he stared at the pommel of his cane. The Silver Bobcat. It was his Father's cane. "Father, what I am about to partake, I think you would be proud of me. If the Press consider me an outlaw politician by God I'll give them something real to write about."
Mary smiled.
YouTube Video Version of Dr. Masterson Fog of War
Awesome music score by Ivan Torrent: Wars of Faith
Truth
Beaver Bullion/Masterson 2 oz 0.999 Fine Silver Skull logo Bar
Beaver Bullion/Masterson 1.5 oz 0.999 Fine Silver RIP Tombstone Bar
Beaver Bullion/Masterson 1 oz 0.999 Fine Silver Skull logo Bar x 2
And looking forward to add more Beaver Bullion Silver to my stack!
Photos and video segments from The Fog 2005 version
Fancy dude Unknown from Pinterest
Japanese Kanji Truth from Pinterest
Other pictures are courtesy of the Ship’s photographer.