Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards Forum Index Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards
Roleplay Community Forums for the Atlantic Shard

FAQFAQ SearchSearch CalendarCalendar LinksLinks WikiWiki  RegisterRegister
RulesBoard Rules MemberlistMemberlist UsergroupsUsergroups RSS FeedRSS Feed PortalPortal 
  ProfileProfile Log in to check your private messagesMessages Log inLog in

Loric Syntel..A Bards Tale
Goto page Previous  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7  Next
Post new topic Reply to topic Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards Forum Index -> The Crossroads Tavern
View previous topic :: View next topic
Author Message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Wed Oct 03, 2012 5:16 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

The couple almost knocked over the blond man as they left the tavern he was entering. The tipsy pair apologized and continued to negotiate down the steep stairway of the Seaside Grotto in New Magencia. They almost took the stairs the easy way, after a whispered comment by the well-dressed man had them laughing giddily. He steadied her with an arm wrapped securely around her waist, saving them both from a nasty fall to the sand below.

She was the daughter of a passing merchant delivering ore from Minoc. Bored with the long sea voyage, she was determined to find some recreation at the local tavern, in spite of her father’s vocal objections. The handsome man that approached her table seemed a real gentleman. He charmed her immediately by making a rose appear out of thin air and presenting it to her. He smiled and accepted her invitation to sit and chat.

As the night wore on and the alcohol flowed more freely, he suggested they take a walk on the beach. She thought how she loved the feel of the cool sand on her bare feet. She readily accepted his invitation and they left the busy, smoky drinking establishment.

This was a lovely evening she thought, as they drifted further away. The sound of the bar faded with a woman’s laugh going high up and down the scale. Soon they were feeling the salt air and hearing the sound of the sea. The waves lapped at their feet as the couple contentedly strolled hand in hand in the moonlight. She thought how romantic it was when he whispered a sweet litany of compliments into her ear.
The woman gave a token objection when they stopped under the large palm tree near the water. She let him kiss her, closing her eyes and feeling his lips explore the sweetness of her mouth. She hadn’t planned to let this go any further as she sighed in his arms and gazed over his shoulder at the picture perfect night. The moon hung over the water like some huge round paper lantern reflecting another image of itself in the mirrored water.

She closed her eyes wanting to store this memory indelibly in her mind. She had no inkling at that moment, that this perfect vision would be frozen in her eyes for a very long time. In fact…she could have hardly predicted…that it would be the last thing she ever saw….
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Thu Oct 04, 2012 4:45 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

The morning dew glistened on the green grass bordering the small pond just off the path in the Yew woods. Loric Syntel followed a trail of barefoot impressions in the soft, wet growth as he made his way down toward the other early riser who sat peacefully watching a fishing line in the water. The sound of crickets, occasional bullfrog belches and other assorted morning bug noises added to Loric's irritation of being up this early.

"Any nibbles Boston?" yawned Loric shielding his eyes from the rising sun, "and why have you summoned me in the middle of the night."

Boston Grey held his hand up toward the other is if asking for quiet. His eyes remained glued to the floating piece of wood he used as a bobber.

Loric stopped walking and complaining and turned his tired eyes in the direction of Boston's.

"See that large shape under there?" whispered the sitting man, "It is what the elves call 'Loeg Uuvanimo'...The monster of the pond!”

Loric studied the surface of the pond. Large lily pads shared the space with fragrant water lilies and some tiny skittering water bugs. He craned his neck closer squinting.

"Sorry Boston...Don't see squat!" offered Loric before playfully adding, "But Lenore says lately you're cage is spinning but the ferret has left!" Loric made a circular motion at his temple while maintaining a smirk.

Boston looked up amused.

"She did.. Did she?..Well.." Boston feinted madness by pumping his fist and laughing an exaggerated maniacal laugh. "You will all be eating your words when I land this thing!!!...Yess....You will ALL be sorry!"

Loric grinned and shook his head. "She was right"...You ARE a madman..”.

Boston's face took on a more serious expression and patted the ground beside him prompting Loric to sit. The bard sat while secretly grimacing at the feel of the cold dew covering the spot he landed in.

Boston looked back at the water thoughtfully before letting out a sigh.

"Loric...Do you believe that history repeats itself?"

"Yes I do Boston," answered Loric, "I keep getting dumped by women...over and over!" Loric had an amused look on his face.

"The Countess has come to her senses?" chided Boston.

"Not quite yet," returned Loric slightly annoyed.

"Maybe your cologne?" mused the High bard. "I hear lilac is out.".

"Are you done?" returned Loric a bit irritated.

“Almost.” Boston said quietly. "There’s been another murder. A merchant’s daughter from Minoc was found mutilated quite ghastly on a secluded beach in New Magincia.”

Loric cringed, especially when he found out she was murdered on the same night he had attended a party in the local tavern there.

“As usual, there are…umm… ‘political’ repercussions growing. Minoc wants satisfaction, while New Magencia claims no guilt in the matter. You know…the typical fallout following an event as tragic as this."

Loric frowned. His frustration grew with each passing day that this fiend remained at large. Finding this lunatic was a problem. So far, he hadn’t made any mistakes that might indicate a pattern. The bard thought of Aurelia and his conversation about possibly using the old magic he had found in the Lycaem. It amounted to scrying the murderer out by using a focus of something personal he owned. So far…the only thing that had any connection, was the small silk petal he found. Unfortunately, it had been too small and compromised to be of any help.

“I will double my efforts!” asserted Loric.

“That won’t be necessary.” Boston said. “I have another job for you that is more suited to your expertise. I plan on letting ‘Falcon’ and ‘Scarlett’ continue the case for now. I want them to involve the Yew militia. One ‘Sunwolf’ heads them up. They can place many eyes in unseen places with the utmost discretion. We may get lucky.”

“And just what do you want me to do.” queried Loric curiously.

“There was a plot uncovered last week by ‘Falcon’ and ‘Scarlett’ involving the commandeering of the old lighthouse near Papua. You remember me briefing you of it?” asked Boston.

Loric nodded still curious.

“Well the merchants want to know which pirate lord was behind it. They have lost much and fear that, without retaliation, the pirate bravado will only grow. I want you to go to Bucs Den secretly to gather information. You know the area well and can disguise yourself as to not be recognized. There are a few rumors running rampart at the moment in the Den, along with much fear and superstition of this Corgul demon. I will give you what we know. Find out which Pirate we will be obliged to bring down."

Loric nodded. His mind was weaving plans already. He briefly thought of Aurelia and the show they were planning to put on. He guessed that would be on hold now.

“I have hired a fishing captain named Alena Hacke to drop you off. She knows the waters and has no love for the Lords. She does have a bit of affection for gold and rum, which I have arranged to flow freely to her for this favor. I will give you directions to her ship in Vesper.” Boston paused and gave his agent a serious look. “ Leave as soon as possible….and for gods sake, be careful!”

Loric nodded as Boston reeled in his line and retreated toward the moongate. “Maybe another day I’ll be luckier landing the ‘Monster.’” He yelled with a chuckle.

Loric sat and stared at the still water for a while, sorting through his immediate itinerary. He would have to ask Aurelia to keep an eye on Sunny. It also occurred to him to bring a certain costume as well.

Just before he rose to resume his duties, his eyes suddenly widened. A huge dark shape glided under the water of the pond and disappeared beyond the lily pads.

"Loeg Uuvanimo", he whispered. “Boston wasn't crazy after all.”

Loric left the pond with a slightly amused expression.… He wondered what on earth Boston would do if he ever actually hooked that monster.


Last edited by Loric on Fri Oct 05, 2012 9:52 am; edited 1 time in total
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Fri Oct 05, 2012 9:15 am Post subject: Reply with quote

A small, sailed vessel silently cut through the moonlit surface of the water surrounding the large isle referred to as Buccaneers Den. The nervous eyes of the tiller woman darted incessantly in every direction as the slim hull slipped between two large merchant wrecks lying ghostly in the shoals with backs broken.

Nastassia, was the first mate of the fast sloop, 'Catch of the Day’. Carefully, she navigated the larger ship's sailed dinghy into a secluded spot on the east side of the Island. Her orders were to drop her cargo off secretly... away from prying eyes.

Her shipment was a dark haired man dressed very much like a gypsy and displaying a black patch that covered his left eye. Her Captain, Alena Hacke, had warned Nastassia that this was some sort of V.I.P. from the mainland who must be safely dropped ashore without detection. Most likely some of that Reeve's business she was periodically contracted for.

Boston Grey, and his entire shadowy group, made the first mate a bit suspicious... but the Captain seemed to trust them. Nastassia had unquestionable loyalty to her Captain and thought that, even if Alena was in bed with a group like Grey's outfit, she must have good reason. He had never seen an inkling of bad judgment come from her.

Nastassia was convinced this little visit was due to the recent upsurge of pirate activity all around waters of Britannia. Something was brewing, sure as rain. There was an increase of plundered merchant vessels that seemed unchecked. But there was something else other than Reeves business that interested the infiltrator. The first mate was good at reading between the lines and after a brief conversation, sensed this man had some sort of personal agenda as well.

As the stranger jumped into the shallow surf and waved his thanks, Nastassia felt relief that she had done her part without incident.

And, as she watched the man walk alone into the jungle underbrush toward the seedy streets of Buc’s Den, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of pity for him....
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Fri Oct 05, 2012 4:34 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

The flame licked its way up the dry parchment and greedily fed upon the note held by the tall ranger. As it burned away to just a remaining corner, Rye Lockman dropped it into the small campfire, effectively destroying any evidence it ever existed.

Well, that was easy enough, thought the ranger, as he watched the orders from Boston go up in smoke. The instructions were to get the Yew militia involved in the apprehension of the Rose Killer. Sunwolf, their leader, was more than happy to lend the support of his group and keep a sharp eye on the area. Rye explained the details of the killer’s charming tendencies along with his ruthless practices. The ranger prayed someone would see something to tip them off to the monster’s whereabouts.

Rye settled in to sleep for the night with another image running through his mind. The ranger finished restringing his bow and placed it beside him. He gazed up at the starry night sky and marveled at its great power to make him feel small and obscure. In irony was the fact that, under its massive canopy, some of his clearest thoughts were conjured.

Every rule had its exception. Tonight, there was no clarity to be found in the heavenly bodies that winked and glittered over him. It was her again. She possessed the power to dim out even the soothing remedy of celestial light. She addled his brain unwittingly with desire beyond his comprehension. A passion so strong, it took all of his considerable discipline not to act upon it. He considered the activity that made up the hours of this past day and cringed.

It started with that strange spectral thing by the Yew cemetery staring him down. He seemed frozen in place as it began to draw something from him. It was almost unseen, like breath on a frosty day. It left his mouth and snaked toward the aberration. Rye actually witnessed part of himself, the the form of some distorted wave, being inhaled by the thing. It then moved deeper into the cemetery, rendering him weak and lacking. It was like some crucial part of his soul was gone.

Genevieve helped him find the undying perpetrator. She aided in its demise allowing the ranger to regain that which was lost. Other citizens were finding the same process unwinding in all the burial places of the world. It was an uncanny event, being performed by some unknown power. The rest of the daylight hours consisted of helping to return lost pieces of spiritual substance to unnerved citizens.

After the strenuous ordeal, Rye and Genevieve retreated to the solace of his cottage on Horseshoe Island. There, they cleaned up and walked to his expansive garden on the property. He picked some fruit from his apple tree and the two ate on the old rustic bench that sat among the poppy flowers.

This became more torture for the ranger. He hadn’t been this close to a woman for almost ten years. It was like dangling food in front of a starving man. His urges grew stronger daily, yet she seemed to take no notice of his discomfort. It was like she hadn’t a clue of these types of matters of the heart. The girl was naive without question. He realized then she hadn’t ever been exposed to any sort of romantic relationship in her 22 years of living. She was killing him.

Rye decided he must communicate some of his feelings toward her. It was tricky. He didn’t want to seem like some lunatic and scare her silly.
He finally explained a bit about attraction between people and the effects it can render on such. He spoke of his desire to love again…and his frustration from shutting down such effort for so long a time. He virtually poured his heart out to her… then awaited a reaction.

She looked at him quizzically.

“I like to massage my apples really good before I eat them.” she said.

The ranger just stared as she rubbed the apple all around its circumference before taking a juicy bite and awarding him a lovely smile. His head lightly banged the back of the bench a few times. She hadn’t understand a single word he said.

Rye looked at her eating contentedly and started to chuckle.

“What's so funny?” she uttered without a clue.

“I found it endearing that you didn’t hear a word I said to you.” he managed say.

She cocked her head curiously. “What was it, exactly?”

“It was that I am very attracted to you…in ways more than just friendship will allow.” He blurted.

She continued eating and looking at him before suddenly stopping. Her eyes widened. “Umm…I..Well.” Her face reddened two shades deeper and she seemed not to be able to find one pronounceable word.

Rye absently twirled a lock of her flaxen hair listening to her fluster. He was trying to decipher any part of her broken sentences. Gods she smelled good…like spring again. Her scent was undermining the massive effort required to figure out what the hell the girl was saying.

Finally she stood up and paced back and forth mumbling something about never being…or not having something. She kept stopping long enough to smooth some unseen wrinkles out of her skirt before proceeding to pace and babble more. Finally she halted in front of him looking very lost and utterly flushed.

Rye stood, and in a sudden sympathetic reflex, hugged her. She stiffened, eyes widening more before taking a step forward in a clumsy attempt to hug him back. They both fell backwards onto the bench, with her face ending up dangerously close to his.

“Aiii” she squealed and stood up quickly smoothing her skirt again.

Rye stood and took her shoulders trying to calm her. “Breathe” he said while taking a deep one as if to show her how. ‘Gods what a mess I’ve made!’ he thought to himself as she struggled for words.

He watched her try to form sentences on those full lips long enough.

“The hell with it!” he said, and brought his lips to hers kissing her full. The soft contact wouldn’t last a week like he wanted, but he did receive the desired taste of her sweet mouth. His knees felt a little weak from it. When he broke the kiss, she was staring dumbfounded…lips still sort of puckered. She looked rather pitiful sending another wave of endearment though him.

The ranger gently hugged her again. This time she hugged him back a bit awkwardly.

It suddenly dawned on him that she might not have ever been kissed before.

“Was that your first time being kissed.” He whispered while running a hand though her hair.

“Well no…my father...he kissed me sometimes. And well, define ‘kiss’, she blathered on.

He realized that is was indeed her first kiss from someone with interest in her heart. She was a bit embarrassed and Rye knew he had made a big mess of all this. But for now, there was no possible way to fathom what in hell to do. So he merely settled for the first words that came from his heart.

“I too…felt like that was my first kiss.” He quietly said. He wasn't lying, since he hadn't kissed anyone like that since before his wife had perished.

It wasn’t long after that, she nervously said she had to depart. She backed up nodding, with her hands behind her back, before turning and disappearing up the path. She was still flustered.

As he watched her go, he ascertained she was much too naïve … much too nervous and aloof…and really too shy for his own good. Taking stock of all these weaknesses, he finally convinced himself of one certainty...

He couldn’t wait to see her again….


Last edited by Loric on Mon Oct 08, 2012 3:06 pm; edited 1 time in total
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Fri Oct 05, 2012 10:44 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

The rain that had darkened the narrow cobblestone streets stopped almost as quickly as it began. Such was the way of things on the tiny island town of Bucs Den....unpredictable....chaotic...and wild as a sudden tropical downpour. An eye patched man sat quietly braiding long locks of dark hair under a copse of water-dripped palm trees. As he twisted the strands into shape, he surveyed the seedy looking group of locals that loitered in front of dirty stone shops and even dirtier wooden hovels. Most were hard looking veterans of the sea that sported harder looking expressions. Scars and tattoos adorned well-muscled arms and torsos. They were tough talking thugs who carried a wide array of deadly looking blades to back up their ever threatening banter.

Loric Sytel was here only as an observer. He would try to blend into the daily island life to gather any information he could on local politics and power struggles. Boston was sure the pirates were rallying. This could mean added trouble for any coastal cities, regardless of who they supported. Pirates had no distinction nor interest of what was good or what was evil. They followed their own code and that mostly consisted of an interest in who had the most gold and riches. Britain was presently not the richest target in their sights due to the recent coffer-draining rebellions. But Boston knew it would be just a matter of time before Britain would move up on the food chain and once again attract the attention of some group of greedy sails. One had already started to operate in Yew, just a hop skip and a jump away. He felt it was important to know exactly who that might be.

The bard finished tying his trademark long hair into a tidy braid. He pulled a fancy feathered hat over his head and removed the eye patch he had worn when slipping onto the Island. His fingers traced the scar that ran perpendicular just above his left eyebrow to the top of his cheekbone. The makeup was very realistic. Loric may have a few enemies here that might remember him so he felt it prudent to disguise himself.

A picture of Aurelia lit up in his mind as he remembered his other reason for this particular trip. He needed to find a man that was rumored to be living on the island. A gypsy called Sparafucille. With a name like that... he shouldn't be to difficult to track. Loric spotted a small band of gypsy musicians playing for tips on a small street camp. The bard watched as a downpour drove them into some makeshift shelters. This would be a good place to start as an idea began to form. He needed a cover and they may know this Sparafucille. The violent rain began to let up.

The music from the small gypsy camp resumed as two male musicians crawled from the shelter of their tents. They gathered around a good size fire. One played a lute and sang with a voice Loric would label as pleasant. The other, a flutist, sent lovely notes skyward with talented precision. A darkly tanned woman with alluring features began to sway and dance sensually to the music. Her seductive movements attracted more than a few eyes in her direction...as well as the sound of coin landing in the jar in front of her.

Loric smiled... adjusted his brightly colored scarlet shirt...brushed the twigs off his dark trousers and slipped from the trees toward the beckoning melody. His plan to get information from the locals was reliant upon getting close enough to move among them freely. Loric hummed to clear his throat and swung an old lute around from his back.

In his mind he was chuckling a bit for feeling more nervous about the act he would soon perform, than being surrounded by cutthroats and murderers. Loric finally justified that it was normal to feel this way....

'After all', he thought, 'It's been a long time since I had to audition..."
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Fri Oct 05, 2012 11:34 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

When Loric approached, the three gypsy musicians had just finished their performance and were counting the gold they had earned for their efforts. The lutist who sang was obviously in charge as he issued orders to the other two...who seemed used to following his commands.

The gypsy girl was on her hands and knees gathering up the coins that missed their mark. She was dark and beautiful. The tips of her long black hair lightly grazed the ground as she scanned low for anything she missed. Her body stopped crawling when her head nudged the tops of some soft elven boots worn by the bard. She quickly rose to a kneeling position and looked up to see exactly who filled the fancy footwear.

Loric flashed a charismatic smile and held a gold coin between his right thumb and forefinger. He offered it out to her while never breaking contact between her dark eyes and his azure ones. She squinted at first in a curious expression.

"This one rolled..ummm...over there!" Loric pointed the coin toward a water barrel and back again. His eyes were still glued to her face and a playful smile grew on his lips.

The girl sat back on her haunches and let her arms fall to her side. Her shoulders went back which caused her breasts to rise just a bit toward Loric. Her long, loose dress hugged the contours of her slightly parted thighs as a sensuous smile formed on her full lips.

"My thanks," she quietly said, as she reached her slender hand up and grasped Loric’s, paused it for a second before slowly letting it slide down and enclose the coin. Her dark eyes and suggestive smile never left Loric's.

"Don't get any ideas stranger!' barked the gypsy singer, "she’s spoken for and will not be charmed away by some pretty face!' The lute-playing man stepped between Loric and the girl, causing her to stand up and step back with a frown.

Loric viewed the man evenly with an amused expression. He spoke with a controlled calm. The inflection on his words perfectly placed to present sincerity as well as a disarming flow.

"Then congratulations are in order to the man who possesses the charm required to win over such a rare beauty." announced the bard, "He must be quite a remarkable man, and I am sorrowed I shan't meet him."

This was not what the gypsy bandleader expected. His eyes widened in suspicious surprise. The girl grinned and the flutist dropped his flute.

"W-W-Well...It is me...Diego…who holds her heart...and I...well...I.."

"YOU!?'" exclaimed Loric. He earnestly grabbed the man's hand and firmly shook it up and down. "I am honored to meet you!...And am envious of your good fortune!. What IS your secret?" asked the agent. "Tell me...please!"

Loric could see the man’s head begin to swell and knew he had gained a good first impression. Diego invited him to sit and share their stew and began to expound on why he was so special to the world. After an hour of bragging bravado, the flutist and the girl were asleep and Loric was bravely trying to stay awake. Finally, after Diego finished the story of the time he single-handedly slew an entire orc division, the man asked Loric why he was in Bucs Den.

Loric told him his name was Lorenzo and he was on a merchant ship that was captured and he was stranded here since no one cared to pay for his ransom. Now he looked for work, but all he knew was a bit of performing and nothing was available to earn a fare back to the mainland.

"So you've sung a bit?" asked Diego with a bit of cockiness. "You know it takes a lot of practice to get as smooth as me!"

"You bet I know that...I caught a bit of your act and was duly impressed!" agreed the bard, "If I had half your talent I could command any price on the mainland to hear me sing! Do you think I could audition for you and maybe learn how to be a real professional?!"

"I don't know..," Diego inhaled apologetically and spoke a bit condescendingly. "Ye might not have what it takes... but I might take a-listen and give you some pointers if you want."

"You would do that?" Loric spoke appreciatively, "I'd really appreciate the critique from one as renowned as yourself!"

"Well son...I don't really like to waste my time on amateurs but ...I like you! What the heck! ...Give it a shot!" exclaimed Diego with an arrogant chuckle, It might be cute!"

"Oh thanks!" grinned Loric as he reached for his lute and placed it in his lap backwards.

Diego stifled a grin and turned the lute so the string faced Loric’s fingers instead his abdomen.

"Must be nervous!...That's right...now I got it!...ready?" asked the dark haired bard.

Diego yawned and nodded then waved his hand for Loric to begin.

Loric sat a moment and gathered. He gathered all the emotion that had been pent up inside of him for the last week. He thought of the pounding his heart had taken due to the gradual unplanned acceleration toward the woman named Aurelia. Loric knew he was most creative and moving when he felt emotional inside. And tonight, with his heart feeling exposed to the elements, Diego was about to be blown away.

Loric's right hand fingers began to caress the strings while his left moved down the frets in aligned collusion. Perfectly pitched, bittersweet notes suddenly exploded into the quiet Buc’s Den sky. The melody was soothing... full of hope and possibility. The notes became images of a quiet place, secret and conspiring. Some clever rifts recreated the illusionary sound of birds chirping in the morning and, when needed, crickets at night.

Diego’s jaw dropped at first touch...he almost fell off his log. His eyes stared unblinking as the bard's fingers sped along at alarming speed...creating sounds he couldn't even fathom. The girls eyes opened and she sighed contentedly while exchanging a soft smile with Loric. The flutist also sat up and felt around for his flute never taking his eyes off the bard.

Loric's melody slowed and took on the hollow, sweetly-sad sound of minor chords played in sequence...and then he began to sing. His voice was high and soft but clear. It ran up the scale in perfect tune when it had to. The song was a tricky melody due, to its sudden changes from major to minor with gradual climbs that had to be performed with controlled discipline. His body swayed slowly as he sang... with an occasional wistful smile awarded his listeners.


Holding you close undisturbed before the fire.....
The pressure in my chest when you breathe in my ear....
We both knew this would happen...
When you first appeared.....we lay...
My Lady of the forest...

The brownness of your body in the fire glow...
Except the places where the sun refused to go...
Our bodies were a perfect fit...
In afterglow we lay.....
My lady of the Forest...


Loric reached the bridge of the song and began to pick one note per word...each line gained a bit more scale than the last. A crowd of loiterers began to wander over seemingly mesmerized by the sweet sound.

Letting myself wander through the world inside your eyes....
You know I'd like to stay here until every tear runs dry...


The musical interlude before the final verse found Loric making the same sounds as the lute in once again, perfect pitch, causing the growing audience to shake their heads in amazement.

Wrapped around each other in the peeping sun...
Beams of sunshine light the stage...
The time has come...
I hope I get to finish...
What I’ve just begun...with you...
My lady of the forest....


My lady of the forest....

Loric sang and carried that last word, warbling high and low notes before striking one last far-reaching chime up on the fret board... and letting it reverberate and fade over the water surrounding the island.

When he looked up, the gypsy's were staring speechless... along with the crowd of hard looking men...all wearing soft expressions. The jar was full of coin as the locals dispersed silently.

Loric grinned over at Diego who was still without words. "What do you think?" asked Loric quietly.

Diego’s eyes went from the bard to the full money jar and back before he managed to utter a few words in a cracked voice....

"We might be able to use you.." announced Diego in a barely audible voice...


Last edited by Loric on Thu Aug 08, 2013 7:53 am; edited 1 time in total
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Sat Oct 06, 2012 12:34 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

The small gypsy band was creating quite a stir in one of the most unlikely environments. The addition of the new singer from the mainland had added new life to an act fast becoming stale. Large, lively crowds gathered when they performed and soon the owner of the local tavern came calling. The Salty Wolf Inn was losing business, prompting an offer from the inn's management for steady work as the tavern's house band. What Diego lacked in musical talent, he more than made up for as a negotiator. The inn ended up paying three times the amount they were prepared to offer. It turned out to be a steal for the Salty Wolf, the place became packed with seedy sailors and lusty wenches who spent copious amounts of gold on drinks and tips. Diego may have left money on the table.

'Lorenzo' had special requests nightly for bawdy drinking songs and it wasn't long before he had the patrons singing along while waving ale-filled mugs back and forth in the air. The dark haired bard was fast becoming the toast of Bucs Den. During breaks, he dodged local women who tried to throw themselves at him...as well as a few local men.

It was during these breaks that he was able to hear much in terms of island gossip. As the night wore on and ale flowed more, tongues loosened even more generously. It was a virtual gold mine of intelligence that was gathered with little more effort than a good song.

Loric now knew the pirates were being reorganized under, as of yet, unknown leadership. There also were rumors of a mysterious faction opposing them. Southern pirates were beginning to appear to share in the plunder that was always more plentiful due to the distraction of rebellion. So far he had not been able to pick up any information on the whereabouts of the few particular players that peaked his curiosity...but he had time now and a good cover.

During the last set, he became concerned how long his ruse would last. A dark skinned man was sitting in the corner staring at the singer. He sipped on ale and seemed to be studying Loric carefully. The bard recalled seeing him the night before as well. The man wasn't dancing or celebrating like most of the crowd. He was quiet, deliberate and somehow familiar. Loric would have to watch him closely...

A woman suddenly grabbed the singer's arm in the middle of his song...drawing the bard's attention away from the strange watcher. Loric smiled and gave her a wink while dexterously slipping away from her clutching grasp. Her laughter climbed up the scale several octaves as she fell back into the crowd. The singer glanced over to see the man was gone.

As the band finished up the night with a hauntingly sweet solo by the band's flutist named Caliper, Loric spotted a dark clad woman swaying in the crowd. His stomach fluttered suddenly with a melancholy pang. For a moment he thought it was her… but he knew this was impossible. His wishful thinking became evident with closer inspection. It was just a local woman enjoying the music. In spite of knowing the improbability of it being Aurelia, he felt strangely disappointed.

As it turned out, there was also a bit of good fortune for the bard. It seemed the bar owner was none other than the sought after Sparafucille! This was a stroke of good luck that Loric would act on as soon as he saw an opening. Maybe tomorrow night he would figure a way to approach the man about a very sensitive subject.

The bard decided to take a walk by the ocean before retiring. It wasn't a difficult task in Bucs Den, as almost everywhere one looked there was ocean. It was a clear night with a soft cooling breeze to evaporate the sweat acquired in the hot, crowded tavern. The water was calm and glassy with a full moon creating a reflection of itself on its surface. Outside of the two merchant ships that lay sucking salt in the bay, the sea seemed empty. A bit like Loric felt tonight. The last conversation he had with Aurelia was both encouraging and curious. She had some sort of residue. It was left over from a time when she was afflicted with the hunger. Loric wondered about the wisdom of getting involved with such unpredictability… but he already knew his heart was vested.

Tomorrow, he would have to continue the mission without distraction. But tonight...he would allow her to dance through his consciousness and… when he slept…dream his way back to her..

As the bard headed to his room, he took a last glance around him...and in spite of its lonely vastness, the ocean looked beautiful. She would have loved the sight of it...
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Sat Oct 06, 2012 4:05 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

It was another busy night at the Salty Wolf...much to the enjoyment of the owner, Sparafucille, who steadily poured ale until he had drained his third keg. With the last barrel opened and flowing, he asked a serving wench to hold the fort while he took to the wine cellar for another.

The band paused to refresh, giving Loric the opportunity to follow Sparafucille downstairs. The bard had gotten friendly with the man over the past day. It was plain for Loric to see that the man's motivation for his accommodating attitude was simple greed. The inn owner was intent on keeping 'Lorenzo" happy due to the ale-slingers clear vision of which side his bread was buttered.

"Can I help you with that?" offered the bard with a smile. Sparafucille was moving a few crates to get to the pyramid of kegs stacked behind them.

"Lorenzo!" exclaimed the bartender while bringing his hand to the chest, "You startled me!...No?" A smile revealed a couple of gold filled teeth. "You better not. I can’t afford to have you hurt those talented fingers!"

"Well then. I shan't do anything to make you worry Spara," smiled 'Lorenzo', "I hope it is alright to consult you with a question that has been bothering me though."

"Anything my golden throated sparrow!" chimed Spar, "You have brought me much joy in the past week...and not a bad profit as well....Ask!.. please!" Spar smiled up and continued to drag crates away.

"Who is the dark man that sits in the corner nightly and stares at me with more than a casual interest?" inquired the bard.

The greedy grin suddenly disappeared from Sparfucille's face as it turned ashen. He stopped moving the boxes and moved quickly and nervously to the door of the cellar. He peeked beyond it until satisfied none was listening before shutting it.

"Assassin he is!" whispered the innkeeper.

"Assassin?" Lorics eyes squinted. "I thought they didn't have a presence here!"

Spar's eyes bulged fearfully and he put a finger to his lips. "SHHH!...Not so loud!...You wish me found dead in the alley tomorrow?" The man continued quietly. "They still operate here...but not openly...not since the 'Revenge' showed up a few years back."

Loric knew the 'Revenge' was the ship that was commanded by Davis Moore, an eccentric noble and unlikely ally of the Reeves...but he wanted to know what Spar knew.

"Revenge?" Who's that?" asked Loric.

"It's not a 'who'...It's a ship...and cursed if you ask me. Ever since it showed up, the few assassins operating here started disappearing. Now they never openly operate here. And that ship..." Spar shuddered. "It is haunted I tell you!...Sometimes it is seen in two different places, on either side of the Island...AT THE SAME TIME AND DAY!" Spar's eyes almost popped out of his head with fear when he mentioned this.

"And this man who sits in the audience?...Who is he?.. and what is his curiosity with me?" inquired the bard.

"His name is Al Jur-an...He is a snake...and the eyes for the island's small operation," spat Spar. "Some of my newly found profits he collects to 'protect' me. As for his interest in you?.. It may be simply what you said...curiosity...unless of course you have given them another reason to watch you. Lorenzen, Do not fool with him!..He is a killer! Now I must get back upstairs..."

As Sparfucille began to earnestly move the crates and throw a barrel of ale over his shoulder, Loric decided it was time to ask about the rumor. The bard chose to use a bit of a bluff.

"Spar..I know of your past ...and you're little problem with Vampirism.

The bartender stopped in his tracks and stiffened. He didn't turn around but, after a pause, spoke straight ahead while Loric stood behind him.

"What do you want?" spit Sparfucille, "to extort my secret like Al Juran?...or just kill me for my past crimes? You know I was cured...and no longer carry the curse." Spar turned to face Loric with an expression of resentment, anger and regret.

"I have no desire to do any of the sorts," reassured the bard, "but I need to know how you did it. I have someone...close...that needs similar help."

Loric's voice held a measure of earnest honesty...His face wore enough of a trace of worry that Spars expression softened. He finally whispered a solution to Loric.

"Secrets like this are dangerous and costly to explore. I shall share mine with you for one small task." Spar paused looking hard at Loric. "Rid me of Al Juran...he is like a weight around my neck. Do this...and I shall help. But for now," added the bar owner, "We better get back upstairs before they tear apart the place for want of mead!"

Loric looked at the man considering his bargain for a moment before his lips slowly curled into a brilliant grin.

"I will take a barrel as well...in spite of your protest," announced Loric, "I have a feeling it's going to be a good night!"

The two men climbed the stairs, opened the door, and walked out of the cellar to the sound of music playing....
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Sat Oct 06, 2012 4:59 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

Al Jur-an hadn't remembered opening his bedroom window. In fact, when he retired for the evening, he recalled a driving rain from one of those sudden storms prompting him to close it. Most assassins were light sleepers. A sound as minute as sheer curtains being fluttered by the wind was enough to flip his eyelids up.

The moonlight through the window gave the semi-transparent cloth an eerie blue glow. It flapped eerily toward him, like some wraith straining for a cold embrace. Al was a superstitious man...and with good cause he would say. Many of his brothers had left this world without a trace. Rumor has it, some of the pirates have taken to cast offerings in the sea to stave off some demon or god they called Corgul. It was uncommon for these hardened men to be moved to fear. That in itself was enough to make Al Jur-an wary.

The assassin's eyes quickly shifted to the right of the window in response to another sound. The sight he saw made the hair on the back of his neck rise… and he sat up in abject horror.

The shape was large and shimmering ghostly...Its face was as grotesque a sight imaginable. A slight gasp escaped Al's throat as the tall, foreboding figure marched toward him and tickled his jugular with the point of a rapier. The shock of the entity's appearance caused the assassin to stare...fearfully frozen in place...wide eyed and shaking with the covers drawn up to his mouth.

Every fiber in Al's body wanted to run screaming from the room, but he could only sit and shake. The creature’s eyes were inhuman triangular patches of red...as was the misshapen nose just above a mouth that seemed stitched into a crooked smile. A dark, untacked hat covered the macabre head that featured hay sticking out of it for hair. A heavy, tattered coachman’s coat covered the demon. Its shoulders stuck out on either side like some unattached scarecrow.

Its voice sounded like a cruel and jagged whisper.

"Al Jur-an," hissed the ghostly scarecrow, "You remember your brothers, killed without a mark?"

Al nodded frightfully.

"I am the bringer of death that can stop your heart with a glance...You wish to join them?" cackled the scarecrow.

Jur-an shook his head back and forth with terror-filled eyes.

"You must do two things to keep me from taking your miserable life...The first is answer some questions... and I know when a man lies!" taunted the entity while scratching Al’s throat lightly with his blade.

"Who's acting the role of pirate king now?" barked the Scarecrow.

Al's trembling voice was barely audible. "W-w-we don't know his name....B-b-but he is said to b-b-be very p-p-powerful!..H-He is said to carry death in his right hand and the wind in his left!"

"Why does no ship offer passage to Yew!" The tip of the rapier again tickled Al's throat causing his to swallow carefully.

"They all fear this new pirate lord! He forbids them to sail there....It's true my mother’s grave!” uttered the frightened man. “ Word is, he’s marked that area for himself.”

"What else do they fear!?" added the scarecrow

"Something they call Corgul...a demon or god from the sea...A-Are you h-h-him?...Have mercy!"

The fiendish laugh that came from the sutured mouth of the scarecrow made Jur-an quiver.

"You are quite smart Al Ju-ran," chided the sinister voice, "Now the second thing you must do to live...Go see the owner of the Salty Dog tomorrow night and return to him the gold you have extorted....reassure him that you will protect him free of charge from this day forth...Can you do that Al Jur-an?"

Al nodded again carefully, as to not impale himself on the rapier point.

"Very good Al.” warned the scarecrow... “And if you step one foot in that tavern after tomorrow night, you will be walking on one leg.”

Al gave up a conceding nod.

"Very well...I am soo glad we could see eye to eye on this....Al....And remember...I WILL be watching you!'

A bloodcurdling laugh forced Jur-an to cover his eyes for a second. And when he felt brave enough to let his fingers slip down enough to see, the room was empty...save the sheer curtains blowing in the chilly wind.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Sat Oct 06, 2012 6:24 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

The music played on after the dark haired singer crooned the last verse of an old sea shanty to the delight of another fairly good sized audience at the Salty Dog. The singer watched as patrons happily drank and partied with great enthusiasm. They were still a rough bunch…a mixture of murderers, thugs and thieves who long ago abandoned any hope of more productive aspirations. Most of their lives were shattered early....leaving shunned and broken spirits that formed hardened shells over the years. All these people shared a common thread of scorn and abandonment. All of them knew why they were here... No one else wanted them. It was the music that sedated the murder in their hearts on many a night. The power of song still amazed Loric after all these years.

The bard felt he had uncovered all he could while operating alone. There were more answers to be learned, but would require some back up to do so. Like who was this mysterious death cult that everyone seemed to know about but none were willing to talk about? Loric had secured much information...It was time to take this back to the company and let more qualified minds determine what is truth and what is innuendo. Loric would sail on the evening tide. Captain LaFitte was more than willing to accept Loric's considerable offer in gold to sail to Vesper and cast him off in some hidden cove.

The band would be disappointed he knew...but they certainly would be left with far more wealth and notoriety than when he found them.

Al Jur-an had stopped by the other night and spoke with Sparafucille, the owner. Spara seemed happily confused when Al left. Al seemed a bit nervous.

Loric thought of home and the little conflict he was having personally. Watching the hardships endured here at Bucs Den had given him a new perspective. It was not helpful to be timid about Aurelia’s condition. He knew she didn't have a malicious bone left in her body. She always made sacrifices for others... that was her way...and what he loved about her.. Loric had lectured her about rekindling trust. It was time he listened to his own sermon. He would have to trust in the fact that she wouldn't hurt him.

Sparafucille said that the urges will never go away. It is like giving up any sort of addiction. There is always temptation, but it passes. The distaste of returning to that hungry life far outweighed the periodical urge for a sample. It was too arduous a journey… the one to shed that unholy yoke… to risk another visit.
The owner wished him well, in spite of losing the singers talents.

As the last song played out...and his brief career as the Salty Dog house singer ended...Loric felt happy to be returning home. Perspective can change how one views personal conditions. So on the short sail back, the bard from Buc’s Den realized that he might have been fretting needlessly.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2012 4:12 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

She kept her word. That was a good start. She said she would stay…and she stayed. The fire had dwindled to warm coals in the course of the night. Aurelia lay on her side sleeping comfortably, her face lying on slim, tented hands. Her knees were drawn up with a bit of her right thigh exposed from the soft blanket that covered the rest of her

‘She even slept gracefully.’ thought the blond man who sat near her with a blanket around his shoulders. Loric watched her quietly breathe and tapped his upper lip thoughtfully. She was more than he imagined. She was much more than he dared hope. He shivered at the thought of her warmth….wondered at the mystery of her gentle administrations…and recounted his blessings.

As he monitored her chest gently rising and falling, a peaceful contentment engulfed him. Certain clarity resulted, as if a shady veil was drawn away from his eyes. Traces of grey doubt and cloud colored trepidation misted away, leaving him clear of unwanted distraction. The bard even whispered a small thank you prayer to Sparri, the Buc’s Den bar owner, who gave him encouragement.

The plan was clear as well… Capture a pirate and bring him in alive, then ‘encourage’ him to reveal the name of the ringleader. Rye and Genevieve were asked to perform the task. A ship was secured to make the voyage. It was an old Britanian merchant that was refitted with new cannon. She was not a bad ship, possessing a bit more speed that your typical man-o-war. She was renamed ‘The Widows Revenge’ in salute to the hopeful punch she would pack.

The pigeon’s note that arrived at first light was a bit disappointing. Loric crept quietly to retrieve it while Aurelia slept peacefully. He read it quickly before disposing of it in the fireplace. It flared briefly and was gone. Loric might have been more disturbed at the news had his attention not been divided by the angelic form that stirred softly by his side. It was a rarity indeed when a distraction could prove so healthy an event.

The cannons had failed. They were improperly forged at the foundry… or they were sabotaged. The metal was made weak. Two exploded, almost killing Genevieve. The wording of Rye’s letter was harsh indeed. It seemed they had the pirate in their sights when it happened. The hired archer Quin, luckily had picked off most of the orc gunners on the small sloop. Both parties thought it best to withdraw.

Loric digested the information and scribbled a return message. He instructed Rye to have the cannons reforged and try again. They must get their hands on the leader quickly, before he had a chance to further strengthen his hand. The idea of having a set of eyes within the pirates playground also dawned on him. Loric filed that interesting thought away for the time being. He slipped the note back onto the bird and let it fly.

He returned to the warm hearth just as Aurelia was opening her lovely blue eyes. They waggled about for a moment getting their bearings. Then, they seemed to calm as she spotted the blond bard smiling down at her. Her expression changed to a soft glow, like she recalled something pleasant. She said nothing with her words, but her eyes…they spoke wildly clear. Her arms spread out into the warm air beckoningly.

It was a call that Loric could not…and would not…resist..
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2012 5:45 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

The young halfling scurried happily down Yew forest path with single minded purpose. Her bright summer dress flowed gracefully in tune with her hurried steps. Her friend Cat has been dishonored and Sunny was heading to her dress shop to make it right.

One day last week, she returned home to find Loric holding her dark hood in one hand and her black leathers in the other. Both were freshly stained with orc blood.

“Busted!” she blurted. “Rats!”...Who told you!” Her eyes squinted as she named the only two that knew. “It was that weasel Aurelia or that snitch Genevieve!” she pouted.

She then went on to describe them with adjectives that were quite unflattering...along with some Loric had never heard. “Ye put a lil' pressure on 'im and they sing like songbirds!...Well....ye woon find ME so easy te crack Loric. Cuz I'm a trained spy....Tight lipped too! And don't think of torture neither...woon work with THIS Fox!....Noooo sirr...!”

“Where'd you learn those words?” Loric queried with widening eyes, “You been spying on Quin again!?”

“Ain't talking....Can't make me neither!” Snowy folded her arms in deliberate resolve.

Loric gave her a serious look and raised his voice just a bit. “I'll have you know Miss 'Can't be broken', that Aurelia nor Genevieve squealed on you!...Furthermore, you will march right down and apologize to both of them for spewing such foul words in their direction!”

“If it weren't them....then how'd ye know!?”, Sunny uttered suspiciously.

“Because it's my business to keep track of those I care for!” he spat back, “and I want to know who the other female 'spy' you've been running to the orcs with!”

“NEVER!” ...I'll never turn 'er in!...Ye talking te a rock!...A pillar 'o silence!'

Loric paused and stared at her a moment before speaking.

“Very well,” mused the singer, “I've met my match....Can't break this one...”

“Nope!” Can't!...No way!” agreed Sunny arms still folded.

“I give up!...You win!...Guess I'll just go down and eat those sausages and syrup I originally ordered with you in mind for being forthright...Guess I'll have to eat them all myself!” Loric turned and headed to the kitchen.

“WAIT!” screamed the Halfling.

And so it was, over the next few minutes, the little 'pillar o' silence' spilled her guts, throwing Cat and anyone else she could think of under the proverbial wagon in the process.


So here she was, off to find Cat to make amends. As she rounded a turn by a large Yew tree, Sunny skidded to a halt to avoid the brown haired man with the black overcoat.

“Hey!...Watch where ye gooin!...I almost runned ye over!” she griped.

The man looked down at her and an easy smile appeared. “Ain't you a pretty little thing!...and...Oh my!...What’s that in your hair!” The man spoke as he reached near her ear and magically pulled out a rose.

Sunny's eyes widened and she giggled with an amazed look on her face. “How'd ye do that!” she grinned ear to ear looking at the rose he held.

“Ohh..I know lots of tricks! The man looked around warily before returning his gaze to the grinning Halfling. “How would you like to have a bunny rabbit?...Hmmm?”

“Would I!?...Oh yes I would!...I LOVE bunnies!” grinned Sunny.

“Well I happen to have one!” said the man as he looked around again, “and its right in that lodge house down there. You want it?!”

“Is it white!?” she spoke excitedly, “Whites my favorite!”

“Umm...er...” He nodded his head smiling, “You know...I think it is white come to think of it”

“Snowy giggled before looking perplexed. “Shucks!..I gotta go see Cat before I do anything...Hey!...You gonna be here for a 'lil while? ..I kin come back soon and take that rabbit off your hands!”

The man looked up and saw a traveler approaching. He looked a bit disappointed as he withdrew his hand from his overcoat. “Very well...I shall be inside that lodge...but hurry....I'd hate to have to give that cute white rabbit to someone else!”

Sunny saluted with two fingers as she watched him enter the lodge house. “Doon worry! I'm really, really fast!” she spoke excitedly and scurried off.

Inside the lodge, the man sat quietly cleaning his nails with the tip of a sharp nine inch blade. “I hope you are fast dear...” he said quietly to himself... “I really hope you are...”
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Mon Oct 08, 2012 8:13 am Post subject: Reply with quote

The door to the Scratching Post Dress Shop swung open allowing the diminutive female to scurry inside. Sunny weaved her way around the customers as she looked for her target. The Halfling needed to find her friend Cat, a talented seamstress, to spew an apology for a mistaken accusation. Once she negotiated past the many piles of colored cloth, Sunny spied Cat busily working cotton into thread at the spinning wheel. The Halfling skidded to a halt and watched her a moment thinking of how to say she was sorry. A pang of guilt ran through her as she remembered the real pretty 'cat’ dress the tailor created for her.

Cotton seeds were stuck to Cat’s clothes and tail as she dexterously weaved the raw material into some sort of workable product. The seamstress was deep in thought as she mechanically sorted the thread from wool. She was processing an encounter she had earlier with a sinister stranger. She was angry at herself for being taken off guard by the man. She had not recognized the danger due to the busy shop until he magically pulled a rose from a patron’s hair.

A frown formed on Cat's face as she realized she had overreacted. This had to be the murderer Loric hunted and she should have played it cool until she could subtly warn someone to help. Instead she jumped away startled....her hand going to the scissors she had laying on the table beside her. She did catch control of herself but it was too late. Cat knew she had spooked him. The man was looking at her with suspicion as Cat plainly moved the scissors behind her back. He quickly headed out the exit. Cat tried to follow, gently pushing by the customers, but he had disappeared. He vanished into the Yew countryside.

A hand on her back made her jump suddenly. “EEP!” she squealed as she turned quickly to see Sunny, who also screamed and jumped back startled.

“What in blazes are ye trying te do!...Ye scared me bad!!” complained the Halfling with a palm over her heart.

“Sunny! I'm so sorry!” uttered Cat. “I was thinking of something and didn't hear you!” Cat then held out her arms prompting the Halfling to quickly run into them hugging.

“I come te say I'm sorry for calling ye bad names.” Sunny contritely spoke after stepping back and lowering her eyes to the floor.

Cat's expression became amused and she tried to hold back a grin. “Why did you feel the urge to call me bad names?”

“Well,” she began, “Loric found my 'spying' suit and told me he knew about me being 'the Fox'” she revealed. “And I thought you and Genevieve sold me out. Sooo...I started te call both of ye bad things before Maurice toll me ye both din't rat me out.” Sunny took a long sighing breath. “So...sorry I called ye a snitch.”

“Spys can make mistakes too Sunny...It's quite alright....”

“And a rubble wart,” Sunny interrupted. Her eyes were on the ground and her foot made small half-circles on the floor.

“It's alright...I...”

“And lip flapper....”

“Sunny, really you don't have to g...”

“and bongo butt.”

“Bongo butt!?” uttered Cat, suddenly a bit annoyed. “What do you mean by bongo butt?!” The seamstress took a quick glance at her posterior as if taking stock of something.

Sunny shrugged. “Dunno..just made it up...Doon mean nuthin.”

The woman saw how contrite Snowy was being and smiled warmly. “Very well...I forgive you dear...just be careful that you get your facts right in the future,” she lectured.

“Alright...I promise.....” Sunny spoke with a weak smile. It was apparent she had more to tell.

“What else Sunny?” queried Cat. “Out with it!”

Sunny dragged her foot some more while keeping her eyes lowered. “He knows about 'Fox'...AND the 'Raven', she blurted.

“You told him OUR secret!?....Sunny!...He's gonna have a fit with me now!”

“I had to tell!” Sunny countered. “He tortured me!!”

Cat,s face was again amused. “Why that low-down scalawag!...How did he torture you!?”

“Yeah!”...That scalawag!” agreed Sunny, happy for the support. “That low-down tried te starve me he did!...Ain't lyin' this time neither!...Witholdin' sausages… and syrup too!...It wuz awful bad!” she sniffled.

Cat looked down at her shaking her head. “Well...it's alright now sweetie...I forgive you...Give us a hug.”


As Cat hugged the Halfling, her thoughts went back to the troubling encounter earlier. She barely listened as Sunny blathered about looking for Genevieve at the Yew Craft Hall , eating sausages and getting rabbits from men who did tricks with roses. She was still in deep thought as Sunny ran off to do whatever mischief the Halfling had planned.

It wasn't till a bit later that something Sunny had said bored into her consciousness...along with a sickening vision. Cat suddenly went pale.....dropped her wool....and started running....
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Mon Oct 08, 2012 3:34 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

Cat's shapely legs moved with as much speed as they could muster as the petite woman barreled toward the Yew Craft hall. Her green eyes, dark with worry, darted frantically in search of the young Halfling Sunny. The feline's stomach felt sick with the worried thought she wouldn't be able to find her. She cursed and prayed as she ran. The curse she directed at herself for not being alert. The prayer was to a higher power asking that she wouldn't be too late to prevent the girl's death.

Cat knew Sunny was going to see Genevieve to apologize for an indiscretion, so she hustled toward the hall’s foundry area remembering something about cannonballs and defective cannons. She deftly avoided the many looms and spinning wheels and headed for the forges. Her heart sunk as she spied Genevieve alone carefully inspecting a pile of large metal balls on the table… Sunny was gone.


A creepy smile formed on the face of the man sitting in the dark common room of the abandoned lodge as he heard the door open. He slipped behind the one of the wooden pillars and watched the young woman approach unsuspectingly. A long sharp blade appeared in his hand as his eyes glazed over with passion.

‘This will be too easy', he thought happily as he watched her slowly walk to within striking range of his vile scalpel....


"She left just ten minutes ago." said Genevieve with an amused look. She apologized for some silly name calling and of course I forgave the little bugger. What is a bongo butt anyway?"

"Did she say where she was going?" Cat ignored Genevieve's question and tried not to sound too panicky. She wasn't sure she was pulling it off.

Genevieve sensed something was wrong and thought for a moment. "Yes, she mentioned a rabbit waiting for her at the old lodge house up the path there...Something about a.."..... Genevieve looked up and stopped in mid-sentence.... because Cat was gone.


The man liked the shocked look on their faces....but he always prided himself with being tender and compassionate as the life drained from his victims. He would look at them lovingly....stroke their hair...kiss them gently. This one was no exception he thought as he carved a long cut into the girls abdomen. She managed to scream once but then she calmed right down.

'What a good girl!' he thought as he picked her up and shuffled toward one of the old wooden chairs.


Cat ran like a banshee! She hurtled machinery and knocked down a crafter or two in her desperate run against time. She burst past a stunned ranger, as she ran out of the front door. Cat traversed the path up toward the lodge in record time. She took a look up the trail and saw Sunny down the path a ways opening the lodge door. She screamed as loud as she could to deter her....but Sunny was just out of earshot. So she ran as fast as her legs could carry her while drawing a nasty looking dagger from a garter attached to her right thigh. A small curse came from her lips as she remembered she didn’t grab her club. She swallowed hard as she approached within fifty yards of the lodge, blasting through bushes and branches like they didn't exist.

As Cat got within six feet of the lodge door she heard a bloodcurdling scream. Her green eyes turned black with anger. She hissed and her tail swished madly. She never bothered to turn the knob....she bashed through the wooden barrier with her shoulder and disappeared into the darkness of the old house....
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Loric
Journeyman
Journeyman


Joined: 20 Sep 2012
Posts: 101
Location: Southern usa

PostPosted: Mon Oct 08, 2012 10:10 pm Post subject: Reply with quote

The woman's first urge was to charge as she shattered the door to the lodge and stood in the gloomy entryway. Cat's eyes flashed dark green with a plethora of emotions. Fear, worry, anger and guilt all met to form a line of misdirection in her head. Add the full load of adrenaline flowing through her veins and it created a dangerously high percentage chance of error. Just as she started a mad charge into the room a voice suddenly entered into the mix. It was her own.

'Wits win...emotions lose.' It was her feline sense issuing a warning. Cat stopped in mid-stride, closed her eyes a second, and took stock. She inhaled deeply. It took all her will power to hold down the debilitating emotion and gather herself. When her eyes opened again, she possessed more clarity, determination and confidence. Her step became silent and cautious. Her hearing fine-tuned itself to the environment and she seemed to blend fully into the shadows around her.

There was blood everywhere. Cat was nearing a few high-backed wooden chairs that faced the fireplace on the far wall. She silently accepted the slender arm she saw hanging limply out from the chair as she approached. Blood dripped from the pale delicate fingers onto the wooden floor forming a small pool. She choked down a rise of sickening dread as she attempted to walk far enough around the chair to see the body fully.

The sight caused her to draw in her breath and fall to her knees. Her mind conjured a sudden surge of guilt for feeling relief that the body was not Sunny's. Her hand went to her mouth when she saw the grievous wounds caused by this monster to someone she vaguely recognized. It was the homeless transient woman she had seen begging on the path periodically. Cat looked at the few belongings strewn around the room and figured the woman had stopped to rest and find a bit of shelter. In her gratefulness that the body wasn't a Halfling, Cat let her guard down just long enough.

The feline felt the danger just a split second before she felt the blow. She had managed to almost turn around just as the foot found her temple. It felt like a hammer had exploded her head as she went sliding across the floor one way and her dagger the other. Cat tried to shake the fuzziness out as she focused on the statue-like shape moving toward her. It was him...she could tell...but he was covered with some sort of rock-like skin. Her eyes saw double and lights flashed in her head. She knew it would take few minutes for her to recover as she tried to will her limbs to life with no success. She also regrettably calculated she didn't have that much time left...The monster's shadow loomed over her with his weapon raised. It was then...that she did something he didn't expect.

Cat was hopeful that Sunny got away...and she was thankful for how loved she felt these past few years. She had good friends and Chantra was a blessing. A sudden calmness ran through her...she felt strangely unafraid. She raised her head up proudly...and stared at him with an almost arrogant expression.

The Rose Killer seemed a bit puzzled as he readied himself to snuff out this lovely creature...For he saw no fear in her face...no wide eyed shock...no tears nor pleas for mercy...and as he began to bring his knife cruelly down on her...he swore he saw the flash of a contented smile...causing him a bit of hesitation and uneasiness.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" Sunny's voice broke the silence as she hurled herself on the killers back. Her arms were around his throat and she rode him like some sort of stone mount. He twirled around in surprise trying to unload her off of him.

"AND YOU DIN'T GOT NO STOOPID BUNNY NEITHER!" she screamed. Sunny tried to choke him while simultaneously avoid falling off.

Cat's head was starting to clear as she dragged herself across the floor toward her dagger. Sunny had bought her some precious time; she was desperately trying not to squander it.

The man swiped his blade blindly behind him trying to stab the young Halfling. Sunny used her good dexterity to time his thrusts and avoid becoming his personal pin cushion. His blade made grating noises as it repeatedly hit his own hardened covering. The murderer tired of this game after a while and bent over in a sudden move to hurl her off his shoulders. Sunny tried to hang on, but the force of the action sent her flying toward a hard oak wall. Her tumbling ability might have saved her from a broken neck, but her head still hit solid enough to cause her to slump unmoving in the corner.

The killer turned angrily toward Cat again. She sensed he was done taking his time as he marched over at a much quicker pace than before. Her fingers grazed the handle of her dagger just as he reached her. His blow was parried cleanly in a flurry of sparks. The shock of the contact sent pain and numbness up Cat's arm right to her elbow. She had to get up somehow. She couldn't parry many more of those. The dazed woman tried to stand but had to quickly guard against another swing from the monster. Sparks again flew and she was knocked back to the floor. She knew she was in trouble but wasn't about to make it easy for him.

He rose up for another attempt to cut her when a green flash appeared in his side sending bits of stone and dust onto the prone Cat. The killer grabbed at the spot and howled in apparent pain while turning frantically to find its origin. He squinted and kept turning as if looking for something he couldn't find...But it found him again.

Darius Crosse appeared for just an instant and coolly flashed a blade that dripped with something green. It cruelly hissed as it made contact with his stone skin again...tearing yet another bit of his covering away. He then vanished leaving the murderer screaming in frustration. The Yew ranger, Darius Crosse had been alerted by Genevieve and had tracked Cat to the lodge house.

The murderer looked around frantically before deciding to make a run for the unconscious Sunny. He needed a shield! The monster was three steps from the prone Halfling when Crosse appeared again...between him and his desired insurance. He stepped back nervously from the glowing blade he toted and turned to see Cat was also up, armed and staring determinedly in his direction.

The beast sized up the odds and found them too high. He quickly uttered a few words and conjured an immense explosion of light, causing both Cat and Darius to cover their eyes for an instant. When they refocused all they caught was a brief glimpse of the man fading away, holding a sizable wound in his side.

Darius went to Sunny's aid while Cat used all her senses to try to detect whether the man was still present or fled through the open back door.

Cat’s well-tuned eyes and ears went from one spot to another and found no trace of him...but she did find that the monster had left them a gift. The soft chittering noise was just above Darius and Sunny. Cat leaped over them and inserted her dagger into the abdomen of a spider the size of a small pig, just as it was in mid-pounce. Its nasty looking pincers clacked together emitting green bile as it began its death rattle.
Darius and Cat exchanged appreciative glances and quickly carried the unconscious Sunny away from the dark lodge-house and into the Yew forest. They would get Sunny to safety, notify the authorities of poor dead woman... and somewhere along the way...count their blessings.
Back to top
View user's profile Send private message
Display posts from previous:
Post new topic Reply to topic Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards Forum Index -> The Crossroads Tavern All times are GMT - 4 Hours
Goto page Previous  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7  Next
Page 3 of 7

Jump to:  
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot vote in polls in this forum


Ultima Online, ORIGIN, and the Ultima Online and ORIGIN logos are trademarks of Electronic Arts Inc. Game content and materials copyright 1997-2020 Electronic Arts Inc. All rights reserved.