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Man Overboard! [02 Sep 2003|07:57am]

wave_cannon
[ mood | curious ]

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...
Whatever happened to joshunderwood?

11 comments|post comment

MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO [20 Jun 2003|10:38pm]

wave_cannon
[ mood | confused ]

Hello?
Anyone out there?

3 comments|post comment

Pass! [12 May 2003|02:38pm]

thjorska
I pass. Too much stupid work to do :(
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GAHHHH!!! *RIPPING OUT HAIR* [03 May 2003|07:24pm]

pussinboots
I PASS. I pass so hard. There is no more emphatic passing than the passing that is mine.
2 comments|post comment

The Horse Latitudes [25 Apr 2003|08:17am]

wave_cannon
[ mood | curious ]

Arrrr...
This be ye faithful, yet loquacious LookOut jabbering at ye.
And yer LookOut done looked out and seen that there has been no new chapters on the horizon. Where has our fearless captain, Pussinsandles, been?

3 comments|post comment

Chapter 7 [11 Apr 2003|12:53pm]

andrewwyld
[ mood | hopeful ]

chapter 7

by Andrew Wyld (andrewwyld)

Oliver's tiredness was making his head droop against the inner wall of the cupboard, but he knew he must keep awake long enough to hear the men complete their conversation.  Something told him that the far greater secret held by those log books would turn out to be a far more dangerous secret as well -- but one which could hold the key to his escape.  Not for the first time, he regretted the mistakes which had got him into this mess, but an old intuition which had helped him through his apprentice years as a pickpocket was the best hope he had for getting out again, and this intuition was telling him he had to know what was on those manuscripts.

The two men had turned aside from Resarge's log and were talking about mundane matters -- rationing the food for the voyage, the petty offences of a few members of the crew.  Oliver put his eye to a crack in the boards to look into what he now saw was Hilt's cabin.  The log was almost within arm's reach of Oliver.  Hope dawned in his mind -- he felt certain that, if he could get the boards prised apart, if something distracted the two men for a moment, if ....

Suddenly, Seribro's bird, which had been scratching around in a pile of seed on the table, started and looked over at Oliver.  It cocked its head on one side, and then croaked loudly.

what has Bosun seen? click the link to find outCollapse )

Well, it's been a while coming ... hope it's OK.  I was getting too control-freaky and wanting to bring in the lost prince and stuff, and make Seribro kind of Goblin-king-y, but I've decided to leave it much more open-ended.

I think it's OK that length, but can modify stuff at suggestion.  yvesilena?  (Jawohl, meine editorin!)  pussinboots?


entire story to date

14 comments|post comment

CHAPTER 6 [01 Mar 2003|10:31pm]

the_alchemist
[ mood | anxious ]

OK, so I'm not at all happy with how this has come out, but I think it's about time I posted something, so here goes. Feel absolutely free to rip it to shreds...


Chapter 6

Slammercatch, Slammercatch, make the master meet his match!

He never forgot that day.

Slammercatch, Slammercatch, shut him up and draw the latch!

Little Oliver hated playing Slammercatch – he hated the complex rules (which he was sure the older urchins made up as they went along,) he hated the idiotic rhymes, and most of all, he hated being sat on by half the beggar brats in the city, which was invariably how it ended. Underdog among the underdogs, he usually did what many others have done in his position – he desperately sought someone lower than himself to persecute. And so it was on that day – spying a ragged, bent old man, he picked up a rotten apple and threw it at him. And this point the others, flaunting their youth (which was, after all, their only asset) were wont to forget about the game and laugh and jeer and taunt Oliver’s chosen victim. But that day was different.

Read more?Collapse )

5 comments|post comment

I'm out of time and it's incomplete. DAmn! sorry! [11 Feb 2003|07:21pm]

burnsidegt
It was the time of day that the blue light of the underwater sun had faded almost completely. The electric-like patterns of light that it cast down onto Ocelot's ship were nearly gone. What was visible of the ocean's floor began to slowly fall away and down into the darkness. This was the time of day that
marked Ocelot's awakening from his slumber. The captain made it a point each and every day to be awakened well before this time so that he could bear witness to the daily retirement of the underwater sun.

*****

"Come; watch as our ship rises into the air..." Ocelot dreamily spoke as he escorted his newest crewman up to the completely vacant observation deck. "I want to show you a world that you have never before seen. One that you will never forget, and one that you will never want to leave..."

The crewman's fear and disbelief of everything that he had been told was still very clear in his body language as Captain Ocelot escorted him through the darkened, narrow corridors toward some unknown destination of great awe and wonder. His tiny shuffling footsteps barely kept him at Ocelot's pace, but that didn't matter much to the captain, as he was lead even more forcefully up a
staircase barely wide enough for 2 people to ascend simultaneously. "Your accent doesn’t sound like one from around here." the crewman commented absently, trying to think of anything to help him keep his calm.

Ocelot smiled brightly at his crewman's comment, all the while keeping his attention on the heavy looking door at the top of the staircase. "I've not a good explanation for that." he explained as he ran his hand along the wall of the wooden staircase's corridor as if feeling to see if anything felt out of place, "but I assure you the sound of my voice will be the last thing on your mind when I show you what lays behind that door up there."

The crewman's fear-fueled suspicion grew more and more with every cryptic sentence that came out of Ocelot's mouth. Talk of never wanting to leave, and ships that raise into the air; he thought it was all the rambling of a crazy man. Ocelot could sense the crewman's awkward feelings. Another wide smile was offered to the crewman as they arrived at the thick portal door that led into the observation deck in attempt to resolve his discomfort, "I've asked you to come join us because of your ability to turn stone into beautiful works of art with hammer and chisel. Your woodwork is amazing as well.... set aside your doubt and behold your new home." Ocelot spoke with a supportive tone.

Ocelot's newest crewman found some relief in the reminder of what he was doing aboard this strange ship in the first place, but it wasn't nearly enough to support the surge of emotion that ran through his body when Ocelot spun the wheel-lock and pushed the observation deck door open.

Colors unlike any he had ever seen before jumped and danced before his eyes in sharp, seemingly organized patterns; various shadows danced all across the floors and ceilings and walls in the most fluid fashions; the light was low... the stairs were beautiful... the curves. the detail.. the wonder.. the water..
the vision.. the awe! It was truly unbelievable, yet he could not deny it's truth.

He was looking out into the ocean itself from beneath the surface.

*******

"This is now the observation deck, " Ocelot explained with a cool and very collected voice. "On a normal ship, this would be the bridge. But as you can tell, we're now a little pushed for space down here.. so we had to combine the duties of quite a few areas of the ship."

"H.. how is this possible?" the recruit crewman stuttered as he slowly shuffled further into the elaborately detailed observation deck. "We're under the sea.. those are fish.. fish! I thought this was just a simple flatship!"

Ocelot couldn't help but to continue his routine of smiling at the reactions of the recruit. It did such service to his ego, knowing that his own creation was the greatest marvel of the sea. "The Lunai Helia has many secrets that she will gladly share with you when you accept her as your keeper; until then, come." Ocelot said as he closed the portal door behind him and moved himself further into the observation deck to escort the new crewman once again. His tone was now much more directive and paced as opposed to the tone of a person giddy with joy in witnessing another human fight the awe of being "underwater" for the first time. "I will share with you many of these secrets tonight during your welcoming dinner."

The O-Deck was simple in design, but heavy in elaborate detail. 4 massive hemispheres of a purely transparent material made up the front, the top, and the two sides of the deck. A smaller inverted hemisphere was placed in the floor of the deck to allow a crewman to monitor their depth and the Lunai's relation to the ocean floor.

Two elaborately carved staircases curved rounded down from both sides of a command balcony that was detailed in the same fashion as the two staircases. The command balcony was erected to the height of the center of the forward Hemisphere so that a separate ledge could extend out into the middle of it; giving the one who stood on it the feeling as if he or she was standing in the middle of the ocean. Two more balconies were erected in the middle of the 2 port and starboard hemispheres (god I hope my terminology is right. I don't know ships well at all... : P ) and each has similar balconies as well, although they did not have their own staircases. They were only accessible from doors that led into some higher part of the ship.

Finally, the two men began to step further into the room. Their boots clicked across a tiled floor as they made their way toward one of the heavily carpeted staircases that rounded down to meet each other.

"Most of what you see here was once part of my home back into the inland. I incorporated it into the design of this ship for the sake of sentimental purposes.. and for the fact that I feel a beautiful ship is a well taken care of ship." Ocelot spoke as he began his ascent up one of the staircases. The new crewman quickly followed along, giving in to the fact that all of this was
Definitely real. Once reaching the top of the stairs, he took a backward glance over the observation deck and saw that the tiled floor was layer out in the pattern of a nautilus, and the themes of the sun and the moon were incorporated into the design in various ways as well. Looking directly up provided him with the last view of the underwater sun that he would see for the evening.

"Isn't it breathtaking?" Ocelot said as he stepped out onto the balcony's extension that suspended him in the center of the front hemisphere. "Come watch..." he said, holding out a gesturing hand to his crewman, "I have my crew to keep this deck vacant for me every evening so that I can come up here and be alone with our mother ocean for a few moments before she goes to sleep. I always bring my newest crewmen up here so that they can witness this at least once."

The ocean floor was quickly disappearing into the darkness. "Stand here and imagine... look. It's as if our ship is taking off into the air. Doesn’t feel as though we are taking to flight like the birds?" Ocelot questioned with a sincere tone.

The crewman was still nearly speechless from being immersed into such wonder so quickly. "I' dun'not think is' a takin' fligh', Captain. It loos' as if tha' floor's ah fallin' out frum under' us."

Ocelot seemed overly excited at the newest crewman's comment, "Yes! It does feel that way sometimes! Doesn’t it?" The captain's attention turned from the ocean floor upward toward the surface, "ahh. You'll work out just fine, you will. I've missed having an imaginative mind aboard my ship for quite some time you see. I don't spend much time away from my ship, but I had to find someone who's mind was as beautiful as mine.. or that of the merfolk's. They helped me create the Lunai, you know."

The crewman watched every facial expression the captain made as he spoke; it was as if he couldn't ignore the passion that he spoke about the sea and his ship with. But the darkness had almost taken over the entire Observation Deck, and Ocelot's figure was dissapearing as well. "The merfolk don't come near this place though, do they?"

"Not anymore my friend, but they are still around. You will meet them someday. But until then, I would like for you to meet your new crewmembers." Ocelot said from the darkness, still standing where he was just a few moments ago.

Low echoing clicks and thumps began to sound throughout the OD as if the ship was coming back to life. Suddenly, 3 greeen specks of light appeared on the wall behind them; opposite of the foward hemisphere. Then 4 lines of blue light shot out from each of them, chasing each other along the wall in elaborate patterns, leaving a trail of low humming light where they passed by. The pale blue lines of light finally finished their pursuits on the back wall and then raced forward toward the hemispheres, encircling their connections to the ship and then tracing each side of the command balcony's walkways. The light trails would spiral around every few feet as if adding some artistic detail to their paths.

All of the blue light trails came to a circular closure on the extension where Ocelot stood. The circle of light that surrounded him was a most beautiful design indeed, but the pale light that it cast upward onto his figure gave his figure a most dark appearance. The creepiness of the scene was quickly done away with though, once the entire room was suddenly illuminated by yellow tubes that lined the ceiling.

"Magick of the Merfolk.." Ocelot said with a slight smile.

Almost immediately, the two doors that led to the port and starboard hemisphere balconies opened up, as well as the main rear portal door. 3 people came out onto each of the two balconies, and 6 people came through the main portal door. The crewmen on the balconies assumed their attentive positions, and the 6 crewmen below seperated into 2 groups of 3, each ascending each of the command balcony's 2 staircases, also assuming an attentive stance.

Ocelot's smile was bright and ever present. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."

"Good evening Ocelot." the crew said in a loud simultaneous fashion.

Ocelot turned and looked to the newest crewman and nodded before returning his
attention to the rest of his crew, "Tonight, we welcome our newest member to the
Lunai; Crew, this is D'Cai. He will be the one returning the beauty to our port, and eventually; he will be the one assisting Navia and I in reconstructing the Helia."

A strong round of applause sounded from the crew at Captain Ocelot's comments. D'Cai's level of comfort began to return to him once again because of the welcoming nature of the captain and his crew.

"This is your new family, D'Cai. They will take good care of you... and you are expected to take good care of them as well." Ocelot said as he motioned once with his hand. A few seconds later, the Port and Starboard hemisphere balconies' crew simply jumped over the rails and landed perfectly safe after a 15 foot freefall. They made their way up to the Command Balcony to greet D'Cai.

D'Cai was now being surrounded and greeted by the 13 person crew. They were definetly a very colorful group of people. Men and women of wildly different appearances each greeted him in their own unique way as Captain Ocelot stepped away to allow them all to meet. The crew's wild appearances varied in everything from their hairstyles to clothing to their very physical composure. The wide collection of the crew's appearances suddenly made D'Cai realize something that was most curious. They all seemed to take on an aspect of Ocelot's own appearance.

Ocelot wasn't the wildest looking character, but there was something definetly odd about him. He was of average height, and his physical build was actually quite a bit smaller than most sea-faring men. He kept it hidden most of the time, though, with large loose clothing that compensated for his dimmunitive size. His hair was a very dark brown color, just like his eyes, and he kept it cropped to the length of a 1/2 a forefinger. His most common outfit was composed of a tan colored shirt, dark brown pants, and a soft pair of shoes that were noiseless within the halls of the Lunai. The most bizzare aspect of Ocelot's appearance was his face and head.

Silver rings were imbedded into the flesh of his scalp like some kind of functional jewelry. Three rings were set into his hairline just above his eyebrows, there were two rings on each side of his head just above his ears, and two rings were imbedded into his skin near the base of his neck, still well within the hairline. A small string of multicolored jewels webbed themselves through the rings, creating a loose metallic net that cradled the back of his head. It was slightly femminine in appearance, but the infusion of the rings was an obviously painful process to have been done in the first place. D'Cah couldn't figure out why Ocelot would have ever wanted to have rings like those embedded into his head the way they were.

That was also what made Ocelot's appearance so strange and intimidating. His facial structure was soft, with a subtone of a feminine structure to it as well. Ocelot didn't look like the kind of man who would indulge in having pain intentionally inflicted upon him for any reason at all.

Then again; appearances were decieving.

"Excellent! It looks as if you are all going to mesh perfectly." Ocelot said as he made his way through the small crowd and down the Command Balcony stairs. "I am going to prepare for dinner; I will meet you all back here in 30 minuites. Please have the table and the meal prepared quickly; Ciera has a lot to discuss
tonight about the tunnels and the Helia."

The crew nodded and watched as Ocelot left to return to his quarters. Once the portal door had shut and locked, the crew's interrogations began with rapid-fire precision. "Where are you from?; How did Ocie find you?; Are you afraid of the dark?: What do you think of the Lunai? Do you know any of the smugglers? How old are you?"

D'Cai could barely keep up with the questioning, but he answered the best he could, "I'm 24, I dun'not care abou' the dark, tha' ship is... *nods*, is' amazin'... but.. I've a quession'. Who’s Ciera?"

“He dosen’t know about Ciera yet?” one of the crewmen questioned from the back of the group surrounding D’Cai.

D’Cai’s eyes took on a curious stance as he awaited an explanation from one of his teammates.

“Ocelot –is- Ciera… you know those little silver rings he has all over his head? He uses that chain he wears on the back of his head to loop through the little buggers and pull the skin of his face into different shapes. It’s bloody freaky when you see how much it actually makes him look like a girlie..” the crewman spoke up.

D’Cai wasn’t for sure of how to respond, but before he even got a chance to do so, another crewman spoke up as well.

“’Ciera’s pretty crazy, D’Cai. Especially Ever since the other night when the smugglers sank their ship and destroyed the Helia, Ciera’ has been talking of raiding the tunnels and killing as many smugglers as she can find.” The crewman explained. “Their ship killed over 90% of our crew.”

“Wait, What’s the Helia?” D’Cai asked.

“The other half of –this- ship. It’s the ship you’re going to help Ciera and Ocelot rebuild down in the Chapel. It’s a big underwater cavern that is the original entrance to the tunnels the smugglers use to… smuggle; before the merfolk sealed it up, of course.”

D’Cai was once again, speechless as the conversations continued between the crewmen as they prepared the dinner table.

“I hear she’s going to have us to break the seal from the chapel to the tunnels and have us kill them while they are working..”

“No, She’s going to have us swim up and sabotage their ships while they are waiting for the smugglers to return.”

“I bet she’s going to try and seduce the smuggler’s captain, kill em’ when he tries to have his way with her, then take over his ship, then lead his entire crew to their demise in some sick way.” Someone said, followed by silence and nodding.

“Yeah. That sounds like Ciera..” one more crewman said while looking to D’cai with a smile, “well.. Welcome aboard, D’cai.”
1 comment|post comment

Bah! [04 Feb 2003|05:59pm]

burnsidegt
So it turns out that the library just says NO to CDrs...
Damn floppies.. why does my floppy drive have to have such a bad attitude?!

Anyhow. My chapter is complete; all 8 pages of it :/
Basically, It introduces 2 new characters, and opens up new possibilities for everyone to take the story in the direction they mentioned they were hoping for in that little "Hi! I'm someone and I like to write about and I hope we have -this- in the story" post that we had.

Oh, and also, I haven't had much of a chance to learn pirate-speak yet, so try and bear with the lack of the piratey accent till I get better with it. :) (trust me, I tried it and i totally mamed the story first time around..)

just, try and bear with me till i find a place to post my story from.
2 comments|post comment

LOOK OUT!!!! STANTON!!!! DUCK!!!! QUACK!!!! [25 Jan 2003|09:01pm]

wave_cannon
[ mood | accomplished ]

The three of them fled from the Howling Basilisk to the marketplace. Oliver's heart was pounding in his throat. As he ran for his miserable, little life, he was seriously contemplating whether or not it was wise of him to have followed Hilt in the first place. Seribro clambered up a pile of crates blocking an alleyway. Hilt threw Oliver over the crates, then, after climbing it himself, toppled the pile in order to stymie the mob. A few of the pursuers started tossing their torchs over the fallen pile, in the hopes of burning out their prey. Not even Oliver gave the puddle-soaked torchs a passing glance.
Seribro and Hilt lead Oliver down towards the docks. The clatter-clatter of boots on cobblestone gave way to a muted banging of boots on wet wood. Angry guards and angry Basilisk patrons were not too far behind.
"Did you get it?" Seribro panted.
"They're chasing us, aren't they?" Hilt happily replied. Oliver looked back, and he was certain that the guards were getting closer.
"Did you get the logs, Friend?" Seribro nodded. "Good."
Oliver looked ahead, and Hilt and Seribro had gone. He stopped in his tracks, even though the angry mob was getting closer. Before the mob fell upon him, a thin, cold hand clamped down on Oliver's face and yanked him into the shadows.
When Oliver came to, he was in a rowboat. Seribro and Hilt were rowing, while a skinny, gray-cloaked man sat at the helm. The gray man was covering, and uncovering a lantern in a nervous, slightly irregular pattern. Oliver found that the sound of water lapping was only helping to agitate him further.
"As per your orders, Captain, I had our old ship sunk, and bought a new one with our funds," the gray man said.
"That's good, Ideen. Is the cargo safe, though?"
The gray man lifted his lantern, and patted the locked box in his lap.
Oliver mustered up some courage.
"Where is your ship, Hilt?"
"Say, where is our new ship, Ideen?"
"Over there, Captain." The gray man pointed to a ship on the west side of the harbor. "Mind you, it's not as large as the old one, but at least this one doesn't have termites, or shipworms."
"So, we won't be having any more of your "Seafood Surprise Stew with Nuts?"" Hilt inquired. The gray man snorted.
Seribro leaned over to Oliver.
"That's a good thing."
"Who is this fresh, new face, Captain?" the gray man asked as he wagged his finger towards Oliver.
"Oooh, I'm hiring this burly lad to help us move the shipment of teaklogs in the next port." Hilt and Seribro shared a good cackle while the gray man smirked. Oliver swore he once saw a cat smirk just like that before it ate a sparrow right in front of his face.
The rowboat came to a stop near a ropeladder on the hull of Hilt's new ship.
"Shall I pipe you aboard, Captain?"
"Some other time, Idean."
"Yes, sir."

22 comments|post comment

Talk o' mutiny'll get ye flogged [18 Jan 2003|07:50am]

pussinboots
[ mood | amused ]

Hahaha. Very cute Kyle.

That's ten lashes.

...sitting and purring about that for long minutes... Huh? What? Oh yeah...

Anyway, I just figured you people would be able to take care of it yourself, and my turn wasn't forever. This isn't QUITE like an RP ;) All you have to do is say "pass." I'm going to assume bunnidarling says pass since she is moving, and mentioned she is too busy. So, that makes it wave_cannon's turn. He gets two weeks from today though, since I've been lax.

Sorry, I know, I know. I *am* an Etherium addict, I admit it. Among many other things ;) lol I will try and pay better attention. Kyle, you've been appointed first mate since you nearly successfully mutinied and it's better to have you on my team. Um, I'm not sure what being first mate means when there's no ship to sail around in and we're all just geeks instead of sailors, but you can have the title anyway. It's sort of like in Dilbert. It will boost your morale.

...and sink everyone else's, but...

I can come up with titles for all of you. Jon, you're bosun, and Stanton, you're lookout. Robin can be quartermaster, Josh is our gunman. Yves and Catriona can fight over being cook. Whichever one loses is cabin boy. (I have a feeling this will be Yves, and because she'll let Catriona win just so she can do it.)

7 comments|post comment

OOC;Shhh. Ok; here's how we'll do this... [17 Jan 2003|09:11am]

burnsidegt
It looks as tho' the mutin.... story,,, is going to continue. Even still, I've a feeling that Captain San will be returning sometime within the next few days (or weeks). So, when she DOES return,,, just act like nothing has happened.. *nods* and when she asks about the stories that have been posted,, deny that you see them and that she's crazy, and needs rest, cause you were waiting your turn and didn't write them... and when she asks about THIS post,, again,, tell her she's delirious and that you don't see this post. And if she says something about this post telling us to tell her that she's loosing it and that we don't see the extra stories and posts... then run away cyberspace-style cause by then she'll be onto us and she can sink the story cause she is captain after all... *nods* .................... oh yeah..almost forgot..
...........ARRRrrrr!
2 comments|post comment

::ARRR! -mutiny is afoot-:: [16 Jan 2003|06:46am]

burnsidegt
I say we take over the story of there here pirates. while the cap'n s'away, the kiddies will play... arr. *pauses....* WHO BE WITH ME?! *pulls a rusty old broken sword and thrusts it into the air all cheesy-like*
4 comments|post comment

OOC stuffs [07 Jan 2003|08:50pm]

burnsidegt
[ mood | sick ]

I was just kinda' curious about whether or not this story was going to keep rolling on with San's new addiction? *couetheriumaddictgh* ( XD ) if so, what was the "pass it on" timeframe cause I haven't had a chance to RP anywhere in ages. Just curious. ;)

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argh, a pirate's story - part three. [26 Dec 2002|02:23pm]

joshunderwood
His hand flopped a few strange coins onto the table, falling under the perplexed look of the bartender as said hand slid off the bar and limply back to the man’s side. “What’s this ‘en?” Asked the portly, sweaty man.
“Coins sir, I’ve quite a bit of salt in my throat and I’d be kind on you sliding me an ale to sooth a raw tongue.”
The bartender made no motion to accept the man’s steel, nor did his grubby blackened hands move from cleaning the foggy ale cup he swabbed with a rag that was yellowed and browned. “I ain’t never seen coins look like ‘at.”
The patron scratched the back of his head and tried to grasp what was being said. The money on the bar was small and copper, with small bits of silver in the centers, on them there was engraved the picture of a small snake in the claws of a hawk.
“I don’t see no problems, across the seas this is fine currency at least, whys you could buy fourteen ales with the handful I just chinked down, but I’m in a ‘urry now so I don’t have the time to haggle… You just trust me on thems worth and slide me a cool one.”
The fat bartender leaned forward into the young man’s face, breathing dead dog fumes from his mouth, heaving it out quite heartily due to the lard in his nostrils. His voice lowered. “I know who you is.”
“”Really there?” Stated the young man, planting his palm on a smarmy forehead and pushing the bartender back away from his face. “Could you informs me then? I love to be reminded.”
“Your ‘at pirate Hilt, whose no good no where.”
Hilt smiled, showing his pointed teeth and exaggerated canines. “You’ve got me there… now we could have done this easy like – but you had to go and make me irritable.”
“Now look, I don’t want no…”
“Snap that shut big man.” Interrupted Hilt with an urgent hasty tone, “Listen up, in a few moments ‘ere’ll be three town guards clompin’ through them doors all thunderous and winded like. I’m gonna make wight like and sit in the back of your bar real out of the way. You don’t say nothing, understand?”
“I uh… ah…”
“Good. Now you be a good cow and don’t kick up any dirt.”
With this it was that Hilt made his way to the back of the tavern, disappearing in the darkness away from the fire pit and windows. Hilt was a tall man, with a long black cloak hanging over his shoulders and arms revealing bodily his head and face alone. This made him seemingly become a shadow, slumping into a booth low made even more unapparent his position.
After a moment as said three guards came panting and coughing through the tavern door, looking very long faced and winded. Hilt watched from behind the high rim of his collar as two guards began meandering through the crowd interrogating the drunk and disorderly and the other guard, the largest of the group, went to the bar to ask questions of the oily owner. He watched as bartender nervously glanced his direction several times, his eyes darting back and forth, the sweat beading on his forehead. Hilt tensed his leg muscles, readying himself in case he would need to run. As expected the weak willed tender had a problem with authority of his own, and in safe holding his own person he jabbed a stubby finger toward Hilt’s booth. Hilt sighed to himself and rolled his eyes. The guard unfastened a broad double axe and hefted it up to his torso. He began to walk into the shadowed part of the tavern.
The guard arrived at his booth and stared defiantly down at Hilt from his standing, Hilt being seated still.
“Hilt Niflheim, Scourge of the Holy Father, you are hereby under the authority of…”
Hilt twisted his ankle under the table, resting the weight of his foot on the heel; a drawing of metal was heard as sheath from scabbard. The guard stopped his monologue and glared at the pirate in confusion. “Scoundrel! If you have any weapons on your person admonish them along with any hostile actions you might be determined to undertake.”
“Oui you’ve got a mouth, I hate pretty words.” Hilt stood and stepped away from the booth, facing the guard. “I suppose I’m under arrest now is it?”
“Please come quietly.” The guard grabbed the pirate by his wrist.
“We’ve been through this before.” He smiled. “You know I can’t do that.”
In an instant, before the guard had issued his next command, Hilt jumped back and caught the ledge of the table with the arch of his foot, planting against it and using the guard’s arm grasping his wrist as counter weight and twisted his hand, making the sentry loosen his hold. As Hilt’s arm flopped back lifelessly under his cloak he made a plant on the guard’s shoulders and leapt off behind. Spinning around, his axe in the air, the colossal sentinel brought his blade down cutting in an arc. Hilt spun – swinging his right leg in a circle along the floor as his left leg swung wide across the staff of the axe in the air. Completing his spin Hilt stood up and leaned to one side, watching as the axe handle split in two, the blade thudding on the shabby bar floor planks. The guard stood with his mouth slacked, his eyes bugging. Hilt twisted his ankle and the sound of sword sheathing was heard. He grinned childishly just before bounding through the barroom and out the front door.

The captain and Oliver were walking down the dusty road, Oliver looking very chagrinned and impatient.
“We’ve one more stop to make.” Said the captain pointing to the Howling Basilisk, a bar notorious for sprouting the wrong sort of businesses.
“Another bar?” Oliver spat. “I have better things to do than tavern hop.”
“We won’t be going in this time. Just wait.”
Oliver crossed his arms and stood, waiting for whatever he supposed would come bursting out into the street.
Surely enough, a man in a long black cloak came running out of the bar, skidding in the street as he made a turn, kicking a monstrous cloud of dirt into the air. Rushing through the fog he was grinning wildly.
“Seribro!” Cried the man in the black cloak, skidding to a stop in front of the two. The strange man swayed his shoulder forward violently, slinging a dead arm up out of the cloak, Seribro grabbing it before it fell back to his side in a semblance of locking arms.
“Friend.” Said the captain honestly.
“Well…” Said Hilt, giddiness in his voice. “Shall we be off?”
“Aye.”
“Oh, mind if we run?”
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nair, or: christmas in baghdad. [16 Dec 2002|09:07pm]

joshunderwood
i posted this before in a reply to the below post - but i wanted to clear it up right like that i'll be going out of town for xmas. so the story will either be up this week, if not, it'll be right after xmas.

later shiggities.
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before i begin... [16 Dec 2002|06:06pm]

joshunderwood
are we resting this tale in fantasy, or reality?
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Story #1; Chapter Two [16 Dec 2002|05:13pm]

thjorska
[ mood | relieved ]

As Oliver was dragged through the busy street, he felt slightly more than confused. Though his neck still hurt, he managed to gasp out a few words to the mysterious man gripping his wrist They hurt his throat, but he had to know.
"E-excuse me, but-" he began, but the other man waved him into silence.

"There'll be a time fer questions, young lad," he said good-naturedly. "Though I might ask ye why ye were attemptin' to pilfer the purse of a smuggler."

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Story #1; Chapter One [06 Dec 2002|04:34am]

pussinboots
[ mood | excited ]

He caught sight of the man's purse before he saw the rest of him. A quick opening through the bustling wharf's crowd, between an anxious tavern wench carrying a bushel of apples and a man leading a bad-tempered horse. Just below the equine's swishing tail and just above the round rear of the serving girl, he saw a bulging leather sack tied tightly to a thick belt with sharp metal spikes in rows all along the front. In seconds the view was gone, but he had seen where the owner of the purse leaned agains the front pillars of the Drake's Nest Inn.

Keep reading?Collapse )

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Rules: Story #1 [06 Dec 2002|12:44am]

pussinboots
[ mood | cheerful ]

Here are the rules for the first story! The list:Collapse )

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