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Author Topic: Blood Gate and the Harbour District(Nyermersys)  (Read 12252 times)
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Weivóc'Neán
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« Reply #30 on: January 02, 2008, 06:56:38 PM »

     After leaving Brok's Rest, he headed to the appropriate dock immediately. As he arrived, he went off to the side and checked his supplies. Thinking to himself, he thought, Great, I'm starting to become low on arrows, need to go get some more soon. I guess I shouldn't have toyed around with that oen man and used so many arrows on him to scare him. Hmm, I wonder where the closest place to get some would be. After putting up his supplies, he then headed towards the pier, and waited patiently among the edge of it, for the time to arrive.
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RP'ing: Speech Thoughts
A link to my CD: Weivóc'Neán

May this bless all who read it with what it holds:

Sé ilian thelduin onr líf un mor'ranr thelduin onr freohr.
Simonne Miller
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« Reply #31 on: January 04, 2008, 03:07:42 AM »

Farrel

Catching his breath for a moment, his body was more ready to move when he told it to, though he should remain careful for a little longer. As he came into the other room, he caught Thomas sitting on the bed. Apparently he was not the only one who needed a rest for a moment. Then he saw the man lying on the floor - unconscious, but not mortally wounded apparently. He nodded once. That was all the approval Thomas was likely to get, even though secretly Farrel was rather proud of him. No reason to spoil the kid though.

He turned to the woman, who had not said a word. "You should go check on your friend in the other room. Don't mind the body, we'll take care of it." The woman nodded and hurried out of the room. Thomas began ripping up the blanket - apparently there was no rope in sight. As he tied the thug by the hand and feet, Farrel took the can of water which was present in just about every room in every inn. As soon as the soldier was done, he emptied it in the tied man's face. Well, that way he had had his bath for this year.

Muttering and spluttering, the bandit woke up, only to find himself surrounded by two soldiers, and unable to move. Crunching his face in an angry scowl, he spat at the feet of the lieutenant - missing by a few nailsbreadths. Farrel looked at the spit for a moment, then raised an eyebrow and looked at the man. "Let's start asking questions, shall we?"

********************

Thomas

The questioning was over soon enough. Thomas had just found out that his lieutenant could be rather ruthless on some grounds, making maximum use with a minimum of means. They had acquired the necessary information, then paid the bartender to get rid of the body of the second thug, and to cover the expenses of the damage. Thomas was glad enough to get out of the Crow's nest.

The two men made their way to the docks. The noise of the creaking ships got louder as they approached, gulls circled overhead - but then they pretty much circled anywhere near water. As Thomas glanced about, he noticed a rather small, brownish man with a pipe, sitting in one of the roadside inns - as he looked at the sign, he saw that it was one of the more savoury ones in the harbour: marginally better than the Crow's nest. He briefly found himself wondering what anyone liked about pipes. For himself, he could not stand the smell of it, let alone the taste. He'd tried it only once, and sworn it off for the rest of his life. However, he dismissed the thought quickly, concentrating instead on the task at hand.
« Last Edit: January 06, 2008, 02:56:37 AM by Simonne Miller » Logged
Yurie Yileen
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« Reply #32 on: January 06, 2008, 02:11:03 AM »

Yurie absent mindedly removed his favourite pipe from a pocket in his jacket.  The familiar feel of its well worn wood brought a sense of tranquillity to him.  He carefully filled the deep, blackened bowl with some hobbit weed.  The weed wasn't exactly fresh, but it was still a good smoke.  He smiled to himself as he kindled a small fire in his tinderbox.  Fire was sacred to Yurie, and with a reverential air he used the freshly created flame to ignite the weed.  Once the weed was happily alight, crackling slightly in its joy, Yurie removed the pipe from his mouth and held it up solemnly toward the west; then the north, east and finally the south.  For Yurie, the pipe was no ordinary thing.  Actually, for Yurie, nothing was very ordinary.  Everything had deeper layers and connections.  Still, of all his possessions, this seemingly insignificant pipe was the most precious.
 
Now that the weed had been sanctified, Yurie once again raised the stem to his mouth and took a deep, meditative inhalation of the sacred smoke.  As he held it in his lungs, his mind emptied completely; a moment of utter stillness and silence enveloped him, his thoughts like the dreams of a new born babe.  Slowly, he began to release his breath, a cloud of blue tinted smoke rising from his lips and billowing out into infinity.
 
Almost immediately he felt more relaxed.  His gaze fell to the pipe and its smouldering bowl.  This pipe is me, he thought to himself.  The stem my spine, the bowl my head and the smoke my breath.  He took another meditative drag.  This pipe is everything, he thought, as the sense of relaxation continued to wash over him.

Yurie continued to smoke in this way for a while, watching the sailors and merchants going about their daily business as he did so.  Soon, however, the serving girl had returned to his table with a mug of steaming kao-kao and another of plain water.

"'ere ya are, luv!" she said as she set the two mugs down onto the weather worn table.  "That'll be four sans."

Yurie reached into another one of his pockets and pulled out five coins.  As he passed them over, he said, "The extra one's for you."  The woman flashed him her gappy smile again before thanking him.  "And maybe you'd like a smoke?"  Yurie asked, offering his pipe to her.

The woman eyed the pipe suspiciously before saying, "Don't know 'bout that, luv!  I ain't got the time to relax!"

Yurie smiled and nodded his head in understanding.  "Well, if you get time then feel free to join us."  She thanked him again before hastily striding off into the crowded bar.

Barega jumped off Yurie's shoulder and started drinking from the mug of water.  "Guess it's just us two, then."  Yurie said as he laid his pipe down and picked up the kao-kao.

Cupping it in both hands, Yurie let the warmth flow into him.  Then he lifted it up to his nose, breathing in the aroma deeply.  Once he had satisfied his sense of smell, he took a sip.  The taste was unmistakeable.  Yurie had grown up on a kao-kao farm, and so he welcomed it like an old friend.

There was another old friend in that mug, too, though.  It tasted a little sweet, and when Yurie breathed out he could feel its fiery vapours on his breath.  Cradling the hot mug like a baby, he contemplated his good fortune. Kao-kao, fire water and weed!  It doesn't get much better than this!
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« Reply #33 on: January 29, 2008, 12:52:22 AM »

Farrel scanned each ship as he and Corporal Thomas walked down the wharf. He noticed Thomas giving a quick glance to a man who was sitting on a stoop smoking a pipe.

"What is it," Farrel asked.

"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering why anyone would smoke such a thing?" Thomas replied.

Farrel chuckled. "To each his own. Now lets find this ship, before she sails," Farrel answered. "He called her the Barnacle."

Thomas scratched his chin as they continued down the wharf looking at the names of the ships. "Lt. why do people call ships a her?"

Farrel stopped, paused, looked at Thomas and then shrugged his shoulders. "I am not sure, but that is what I have heard sailors say all my life. Maybe it is because since they are out to sea so much that she is the only true woman they have in their lives."

Suddenly Thomas pointed behind Farrel. "Lt. There she is. The Barnacle."

Farrel whirled around and saw the name spelled out with wooden blocks on the side of the ship. He could hear orders being given to remove the anchor ropes, raise the gangplank and the anchor.

"Quick!" Farrel yelled, "Up the gangplank. We have to stop her from sailing!"

Farrel made a rush for the gangplank hearing Thomas's breath right behind him. He and Thomas jumped on the plank just as several men appeared at the top to drag it aboard. "Git off," A burly seaman shouted.

"I need to speak with your Captain! I am Lt. Farrel, personal envoy of the Earl. I ask permission for myself and my companion to come aboard." Farrel shouted, hoping that his speech of civility would gain he and Thomas permission.

The burly seaman yelled, "Cap'n, city guards want to board us."

Farrel heard a gruff reply from the aft of the ship. "Throw them off, the tide is almost upon us and we must be off. The Barnacle does not answer to no one except me."

The burly man turned and gave a yellowish toothed grin as he stared down at the two men. "Ye heard the Cap'n. Now get off or get thrown off!" He yelled down.

Farrel paused for just a blink and then drawing his sword bounded up the gangplank and bowled over the surprised seaman. He hoped Thomas was behind him because all of a sudden there were sounds of outrage and steel being drawn as Farrel rolled effortlessly to his feet swirving to his left and then right keeping his sword in front of him.  He felt someone behind him and before he could turn heard Thomas say, "I have your back Lt. But as my dear mother would say, 'we seem to be a bear in a bees nest.'"

"Your mother has a certain flair for saying the obvious, Corporal. I hope to be able to meet her."

"Me too," Thomas said as he set himself for the battle to come.

OOC, I hope that you did not mind me puppetting Thomas.
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« Reply #34 on: February 01, 2008, 03:53:27 AM »

Farrel heard steel being drawn and soon he and Thomas were surrounded by a ring of steel wielded by men who had no qualms about cutting down a couple of city guards and throwing their dead carcasses to the sea.

He turned his head as Thomas spoke. "Do you think it would have been better to have a squadron of guards right now?"

Farrel chuckled, "Yep, but it is too late now unless we yell for help, and I think that may just bring more of these blood thirsty brutes."

Farrel laughed, but inside he knew that he and Thomas were probably going to end being fish food unless something or someone came along.

"Blood thirsty, ye say, Aye we thirst for the blood of our enemies at times. If'n ye had gone 'bout your buisness instead of boarding me ship then ye blood would not be spilled, but since ye have, your blood must be spilled unless ye pay a ransom, then I and me good lads here might let ye live. So do ye have any coin on ye enough to save yer miserable lives," a voice asked from above Farrel's head.

Farrel looked up and saw a large bellied man with dirty black wavy hair that fell down to his shoulders. He had small dark beady eyes under large bushy black eyebrows. He wore black pants and high top black boots. His shirt was a dirty white and opened almost to the man's navel showing thick curly chest hairs. Even in this weather the man dressed as if it were a hot summer day.  A cutlass hung from a large black belt around his waist. The man's ears and nose were both pierced with gold rings, several rings on each ear with small gold chains that were attached to them and then down to the nose rings upon each of the man's nostrils.  When he smiled gold and silver teeth gleamed back.

"You must be the Captain. I am afraid that the coin's we do have would not satisfy your ransom, I and my friend here came only to ask you if you had any passengers aboard? We are looking for an old man, who may or may not be injured and with him is a young lad, their names are Petrie and Heath," Farrel answered.

The Captain scratched under his bearded chin as he peered down at Farrel. "What do ye want with these men?" He finally asked.

"They are good friends of the Earl and we were sent to find them," Farrel answered, hoping that the pirate would fear the Earl enough to let Petrie, Heath and them go.

"'ey lads it seems we 'ave friends of the good Earl aboard."

The men laughed and jeered.

Farrel was afraid that was going to happen. These men may fear the Earl on land, but on their ship and at sea they were the Kings. Farrel knew then that he and Thomas were going to have to fight their way off this ship.

The Captain slowly walked down the few stairs from the fulcrum onto the main deck. His men parted as he mede his way to stand in front of Farrel. "I and the lads mi'tn be willing to let ye go. How much is the Earl willing to pay for his friends lives?" He asked.

Farrel almost retched when the man spoke and he could smell the man's breath. "I do not know, however can I ask a boon from you?" Farrel asked.

"A boon?" The Captain asked. "Did ye hear that lads, he asks for a boon?"

The men again laughed and jeered.

The Captain leaned close to Farrel, "We are not at court, but I be a curious sort of man, ask your boon."

It took all of Farrel's will power to keep the contents of his stomache where they should belong as he stared back at the Captain. "My boon is a trade. A trade between Petrie and Heath for myself and my companion here. I assume that you are heading for Shan'Thai and there you would sell them, if they made it through the voyage. I doubt the old man could make such a voyage and you would probably not get much for him even if he did. The boy, would probably fetch you more but he is but a mere boy. We are men, strong and trained. We would fetch a hefty price from a death merchant wouldn't you say?" Farrel asked.

He hated putting Thomas in this situation but it was the only thing he could think of to save the lives of Petrie and Heath and possiblly their own. For he and Thomas had a better chance of escaping or surviving than did the old man and the boy.

The Captain stood back. He studied Farrel as he scratched at the thick thatch of his chest hair with his right hand. Finally he spoke.

"Aye, a death merchant would pay a hefty price for such as ye two and if'n ye had not mentioned it, I would not have thought of it. I think it a grand idea."

Farrel let out a sigh of relief but it was too soon.

"There be one catch though, I keep and sell ye all. Men take them!" He shouted as he drew his own curved cutlass.

Farrel spoke out of the side of his mouth. "Corporal if you want to yell for help, now would be the time."

Thomas grinned, though he knew he probably would not live out this day and yelled at the top of his lunge as Farrel joined in. "HELP!" They both screamed as their steel met steel and rang clearly in the air.
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Yurie Yileen
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« Reply #35 on: February 02, 2008, 01:21:03 AM »

After finishing the kao-kao, Yurie felt more alive; it's rejuvenating effect had spread through his body, and he felt like taking a walk.

He carefully emptied his pipe of ash and  stashed it away in a deep pocket.  Then he stood up and stretched, taking a deep breath of the crisp air.  "Ahhh!  That feels better!"  he said, turning to Barega.  "Come on, then!  Let's have a bit of exercise."  Barega jumped up onto Yurie' shoulder, clearly eager to get moving, too.  Once he had picked up his weapons, Yurie left the small courtyard, waving to the serving girl as he went.

Walking at an easy pace, he made his way down to the river side, where the numerous ships bobbed about.  He had never spent much time on a boat, but they fascinated him, nonetheless. Must be pretty exciting heading off on one of these things, he thought to himself as he strolled along.

After a while he stopped walking, and as he gazed at one of the ships, his mind started a journey out to sea, imagining what it would be like to sail to distant and mysterious lands.

He had just got to a small island inhabited by beautiful, naked women, when a rude yell brought him abruptly back to reality.

"HELP!"  it bellowed, in the voice of two men.  The sinister sound of steel clashing against steel echoed after it.  A tingle ran up Yurie's spine, making him shiver slightly.  The fight was happening on a ship not too far away.

Without thinking, he ran to the ship in question.  A narrow gangplank led up from the bank.  After uttering a short curse, he ran up it and onto the main deck.

Chaos greeted him when he looked around.  Two city guards seemed to be trying to fight an entire crew!

It was difficult to comprehend.  His mind went blank.  What should he do?

"Who are you?" a rough sailor wielding a cutlass  shouted.

Not knowing what to say, Yurie remained silent.

Apparently this was the wrong thing to do, for the man leapt at him, his cutlass drawn way back behind his shoulder, ready to sweep down in a murderous arc.  Acting on pure survival instinct, Yurie rapidly lowered his spear and thrust it forwards.  The man didn't have enough time to evade the strike; the sharpened blade sank deeply into his flesh.  Yurie watched as the man's eyes widened in shock; then he pulled the spear backwards, ready to thrust again, but it wasn't necessary.  The man slumped to the deck, dropping his cutlass and clutching at his fresh wound.
« Last Edit: February 05, 2008, 01:13:23 AM by Yurie Yileen » Logged

Yurie Yileen
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« Reply #36 on: February 05, 2008, 01:32:13 AM »

Yurie edged himself a little further onto the ship's deck, his spear lowered and at the ready.  Two more armed sailors turned their attention toward him.  They spread apart slightly, aiming to catch him in a pincer movement.  Thinking quickly and seeing the danger, Yurie darted to his left.  The deck narrowed here as it skirted around a raised platform; now the sailors would have to fight him one at a time.

The first sailor started to close.  Yurie kept his spear lowered and pointed at his opponents torso.  He was breathing hard and his heart was beating a tattoo inside his head.  Standing his ground, he made small circles with his spear.  It was a deadly stand off.  Yurie knew that he had to keep calm and not attack first.  His spear would be able to hold the man at bay whilst he got his breath back.

Occasionally the sailor made an attempt to move forwards, but the sharp blade at the end of Yurie's spear would quickly circle around and block his way.  It became a deadly stand off.  A frustrating stalemate.

After a period of indiscernible time, maybe a few seconds or maybe a few minutes, a flurry of black feathers and raucous noises swept down from the sky and attached itself to the sailor's face.  He screamed and used his free hand to try and brush the enraged crow away.  But that moment of surprise and blindness gave Yurie the opening he needed.  Lunging forwards he plunged his spear deep into the man's thigh.  The leg gave way and the sailor fell onto his knees.  Barega flew up into the air once more, still cawing loudly, and Yurie quickly moved in and kicked the kneeling man in the face, knocking him backwards into an unconscious heap.

But there was something wrong; the second assailant wasn't anywhere to be seen.  Immediately, Yurie span around in a panic, imagining that his foe had somehow managed to sneak behind him; but there was nobody there, either.

The hairs on Yurie's neck stood up.  There was danger close by, but he couldn't see it!

Then he heard a gruff voice curse somewhere above him.  Looking up, he saw that the second sailor had mounted the platform and was preparing to jump down on top of him.  Fortunately, Barega had seen him and had attacked.  The man tried to slash the crow with his dagger, but Barega flew back out of range.  Seizing the opportunity gained by this brief respite, the man turned his attention back to his plan of jumping on Yurie.  But when he looked down, he saw that he had lost the element of surprise.  If he jumped now, he wouldn't land on an unsuspecting victim, but rather, the wrong end of a spear!  Cursing again, he looked at a loss what to do.  And then the furious crow swooped again, this time pecking savagely at his eyes.

Yurie heard a piercing scream and more curses as Barega retreated once more.  The unfortunate sailor had dropped his dagger and was clutching at his left eye; blood covered his hands.

Yurie took a quick look around.  Luckily, the other sailors seemed to be too preoccupied with the guards.  He was safe; for now.  Without wasting any time, he threw his spear up and onto the raised platform.  Then, with free hands, he scrambled up, hauling himself after it.

"My eye!"  the sailor shouted when he saw Yurie, "Can ya see me eye!!!"

He took his hands away and motioned for Yurie to look.  But try as he may, Yurie couldn't see anything except a mass of blood and scratches.

"'e's 'ad it!"  Yurie shouted, "'e's plucked it like my old man plucks apples!"

The sailor gave a cry of despair and held his hands back up to the empty socket.

"'old on!  'e's coming back for the other one!"  Yurie shouted, as Barega came swooping down again.  With a terrific scream, the sailor turned and jumped off the platform, disappearing from view.

Laughing to himself, Yurie unslung his bow and readied an arrow.  He was struggling for breath, now.  The fighting, climbing and shouting had exhausted him.  His heart was thumping like it was going to explode.

From somewhere that seemed quite far away, like at the end of a tunnel, he could still hear a battle raging.  Realising that it wasn't over yet, he looked out over the main deck, to see how the two guards were doing.
« Last Edit: February 05, 2008, 01:35:45 AM by Yurie Yileen » Logged

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« Reply #37 on: February 05, 2008, 02:40:23 AM »

When the Captain drew his cutlass, Farrel knew that he was the one that he would have to fight. He quickly jumped forward with a thrust of his blade, the Captain parried it, with a sneer and struck back with a thrust towards Farrel's chest and then as Farrel was about to parry, the cutlass swept up and over Farrel's sword and slashed down toward Farrel's left shoulder.

Farrel jumped back, but not before the Captain's blade slashed through the opening between his shoulder and the leather armor that Farrel wore. The blade cut Farrel's shoulder but it was minimal.

The Captain was already preparing another attack. "Ye, guards have not the skill of me self or me men," he laughed.

"We shall see about that, Captain," Farrel shouted as he thrust, feinted, waited for the parry, then ducking under the parry, ran toward the Captain, his blade slashing the Captain's right fleshy side. Farrel heard a cry, and a curse as the Captain swiveled to his right his sword swishing over Farrel's lowered head.

Farrel's back smashed into a wall as he continued his movement and turned to face the Captain. He had misjudged the distance between himself, the Captain and the wall.

He grimmaced in pain as his body automatically shot him forward.

The Captain's sword thrust forward toward Farrel's chest. Farrel tried to parry, but he missed and the Captain's sword pierced Farrel's armor.

Farrel felt the blade bite deep into his left side. Before the Captain could pull his blade out of Farrel's side, Farrel slashed at the Captain's sword's arm. His blade spurred on by rage and pain cut the Captain's hand and partly his forearm completely off.  

Blood spurt furiously as the Captain screamed in pain. Farrel, grabbed the hand with his free hand and pulled it and the sword out.  

He was suddenly attacked by other sailors who had come to the aid of their Captain who had collapsed on the deck, holding his arm tight and moaning in pain.

Farrel tried to ward of the attackers as best as he could but the loss of blood from the wound in his side was slowly tiring him. Farrel could hear screeching of some sort of bird, and the sailors yelling something about that they and their ship were cursed.

He cut one of the three assailants, who withdrew and now he only faced two, but his strength was almost gone. He fell to his knees, his sword still up. He hoped Thomas had fared better, when suddenly a sword from one of his assailants avoided his parries and slashed down toward his neck, Farrel thought this was it, when he heard steel against steel. He looked up and saw Thomas's face looking down at him.

The assailant surprised by the sudden appearance of Thomas attacked again. Thomas was not quite prepared for such a quick response, besides, he was hanging upside down from the forecastle, when the assailant let out a cry and Farrel saw the tip of an arrow that had pierced through the man's chest.

Farrel looked up and saw a stranger with a bow and arrows shooting at the sailors.  Farrel slumped down on the deck, blood flowing freeing now from his wound.  Thomas flipped over and landed by Farrel's side. He turned to face a sailor when the Captain's voice, weak but loud enough yelled.

"'nogh boys. We be cursed and defeated. Put down yer weapons!"

The sailors, some of them cut and wounded by Thomas and some killed and wounded by the stranger with the bow, threw down their weapons. Two of them rushed to their Captain's side and tried to stop the bleeding from their Captain's arm.  One of them took a pan of hot coals and shoved the Captain's arm into it.

Farrel had heard men scream before in pain, but when the Captain screamed it seemed to stop time.

Farrel, smiled at Thomas, who had some wounds of his own, but they seemed not to be that serious. "It seems we won, find Petrie and Heath," Farrel said as he slumped over in unconsciousness.
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Yurie Yileen
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« Reply #38 on: February 06, 2008, 02:00:26 AM »

Yurie's eyes rapidly scanned the main deck.  One man was lying down, moaning and trying to staunch a flow of kari crimson that spurted from his arm.  Another three were advancing on one of the guards, who looked injured.  Still, he was putting up a good fight.  One of the three assailants dropped back after having a sting of the guard's sword, but the other two kept on attacking.
 
Then, the guard fell to his knees, and Yurie realised that he was more badly injured than he had imagined.  As one of the two sailors moved in for the kill, Yurie raised his bow and drew the arrow back, ready to fire.
 
Yurie's marked man wasn't too far away.  The shot would be an easy one to make.  Without thinking, he loosed the arrow and automatically reached back into his quiver for a second.  As he readied the next arrow, he watched the sailor drop his cutlass and pitch forward with a scream.
 
Then Yurie noticed the other guard, who had been on the forecastle.  He seemed healthy and uninjured as he jumped down onto the main deck, ready for a fight.  Another sailor started to close with him, but a voice shouted for them to stop.  Yurie assumed that it must have been the captain, for all of the sailors dropped their weapons in acquiescence to his demand.
 
Letting out a sigh of relief, Yurie watched as a group of men went to the aid of the amputee lying on the deck.
 
A blood-curdling scream rent the air as they forced the bloody stump into some hot coals.  At the same time, Yurie felt his legs go weak.  He felt dizzy, and needed to sit down.  His mind was blank and his stomach queasy.  Was it the gentle rocking of the boat, or the aftermath of the fight?  Most of all he just wanted to have another smoke to calm his nerves, but when he glanced over at the main deck again, he saw that there were at least two people who needed help; the injured guard had collapsed into unconsciousness.
 
After giving a quick word of thanks to the Wat'a'kan for keeping him alive, Yurie put his arrow away and slung the bow back over his shoulder.  Then he picked up his spear and gave it a quick wipe with a rag that was lying close by.
 
There was no sight of Barega, and Yurie guessed that he was doing what crows like to do the most after battles.  Giving it no concern, he jumped down and ran over to the fallen guard.
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Simonne Miller
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« Reply #39 on: February 09, 2008, 05:50:16 AM »

The fight was pretty much over before it began. Of course, it hadn't seemed like that when it had started, when it had looked like the balance would tip in the favour of the ship's crew. The unexpected help of a short stranger had meant a turning, however. Thomas managed to wound a few of the crew, perhaps even killing one or two, though he did not take the time to ascertain this. He received some wounds, but nothing that could keep him down. By the time the crew surrendered, he was breathing heavily.

Thomas nodded at the captain's order. Guessing that the two men would be chained, he approached the captain. The scream made his blood run cold, but he spotted some keys on the man's belt quickly enough and darted a hand towards it, biting back the rising nausea that he felt at the sound of the scream and the stench of scorched flesh. Feeling the keys in his hand, he backed up, turned, and practically ran to the stairs that led to the ship's holding.

He saw them quickly enough. A young man, a boy even, younger than himself, looking at him miserably. His face was dirty, streaked with lines made by tears. By him lay the old man, unconscious or asleep. Thomas first stooped next to the boy, fitting the keys on the lock that held him chained to the floor. Finally one clicked, and the shackles fell away. The boy - Heath, wasn't it? - raised his hands level with his face, and only then comprehension dawned on him. The first thing that he did was turn to the old man, and whisper 'But... my master... Will you release him as well?" Thomas nodded, though it might not be too visible in the dim bowels of the ship. "Your master and you will be well taken care of, Heath. Do you think you can stand?" He asked, as he turned at the same time to the prone form of Petrie. Again he fitted the keys, trying to turn them until one succeeded. No reaction ensued, though the soldier felt the man's chest rise and fall in time with his breath. He still lived then, but was unconscious.

Slipping his arms underneath the man, he was surprised how light the old healer was. He almost staggered backwards, having expected more resistance. Then he found his balance, as he noted with approval that the boy was standing, if somewhat instabaly. "Very good, Heath. Let's go up, shall we?" He let the boy go first up the stairs, ready to steady him should he fall, then emerging into the light of day again, where he put Petrie carefully next to his unconscious Captain. Only then did he turn towards the stranger, who he suddenly noticed was the one that had been smoking a pipe. "It would seem that Captain Farrel and I owe you thanks, stranger. My name is Thomas." He extended his hand, which he only now realised was somewhat bloodied, probably from the fight. He wasn't going to retract the hand until it was shaken though, he was sure the stranger would understand.
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« Reply #40 on: February 10, 2008, 12:30:11 AM »

Farrel, felt more than he saw as he slowly came to. He almost wished that he had stayed in the place between death and life, for the life brought on pain. He felt a body being laid next to his and at first feared it was Thomas, then he heard Thomas speak to someone.

"It would seem that Captain Farrel and I owe you thanks, stranger. My name is Thomas," he heard Thomas speak.

Farrel opened his eyes and saw Thomas and a stranger looking down at each other. The stranger was the one whom Thomas had wondered why he liked smoking a pipe. Farrel chuckled, though his body racked in pain by the movement."I am not a Captain yet, Corporal. But thanks for the promotion."

He turned to look at the body placed next to him and saw that it was Petrie and Heath, was kneeling next to him. Farrel looked up at Thomas asking the unspoken question.
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Yurie Yileen
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« Reply #41 on: February 12, 2008, 01:56:44 AM »

As soon as he got closer, Yurie could see that the fallen guard was lying in an ominous pool of blood.  Kneeling down, he took a closer look, and noticed a puncture wound in the guard's left side.

His mind started racing.  What should I do?  He's lost a lot of blood, and I'd better act fast!  Realising that he would need some help in dealing with this, Yurie stood again and started to look for the other guard.

Just then, he saw a young, scruffy boy emerge from below deck.  The boy screwed his eyes up tight and Yurie guessed that he hadn't seen the light of day for a while.  Following closely behind him was the other guard, carrying an old man.

After making his way over to where Yurie was standing the guard laid his burden down.  Then he turned and extended a bloodied hand in greeting.

"It would seem that Captain Farrel and I owe you thanks, stranger. My name is Thomas."

Taking the offered hand in his, Yurie gave a quick reply, "Glad to meet you, Thomas, my name is Yurie."  He was eager to turn his attention back to the injured Captain, whom he guessed was rapidly approaching death.  But before he could express his concern to Thomas, he heard a soft chuckle coming from the fallen man.

"I am not a Captain yet, Corporal. But thanks for the promotion."

Yurie looked down at Farrel in surprise.  It seemed as though he was more concerned for the welfare of the old man than for himself, for he was looking over at him, worry etched onto his face.

Following the guard's gaze, Yurie found himself thinking. Now, is he dead, or just a heavy sleeper?
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Simonne Miller
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« Reply #42 on: February 12, 2008, 05:24:55 AM »

Thomas noticed the Lieutenant's look at him, and smiled. "He should be fine, Lieutenant... At least, if he gets someone to take care of him soon." He found himself wondering meanwhile how in the name of the twelve he could have said captain... His head must still be full from the sight of the ship's captain's severed arm. The soldier looked at said captain again, then at the old man's prone form and the young boy next to him. He found himself unable to feel pity at the loss of the arm. The kind of beast who could sell an old man and a young boy into slavery did not deserve any kind of pity.

He crouched next to Petrie again, taking him up as before. "Yurie, if you could help the Lieutenant get up, I'd really appreciate it. Heath, could you walk before me, off the ship? Good!" He found himself shaking with fatigue and the last remnants of adrenaline, but he suppressed it. First get these people to the castle, that was more important than any personal weariness. If one of the sailors behind him moved, he didn't see it, but he had not forgotten about them. As he stepped off the gangplank onto the docks, he spotted a group of people, orderly marching, all in their guard's uniform. At the head was perhaps one of Thomas's least favourite people, but that did not matter now. Nat was a bully, but he could use his bullying powers as much as he wished now.

Nat had seen them and came forward, leading the guards with him. He seemed to crunch up his eyes in a preface to a tirade, until he spotted the man in his arms and the lieutenant coming behind. "Nat, do me a favour and take the sailors on this ship prisoner. They were about to sail off with the Earl's healer, to sell him into slavery. Throw them into prison until we have told the Earl about the whole thing. He will have to decide their punishment. But don't be too soft with them... Oh, and if you could get one of your men to help us get the boy to the castle, I'd appreciate it. He's brave, but about to collapse." Then he stopped talking, waiting for Nat's answer.
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Yurie Yileen
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« Reply #43 on: February 12, 2008, 07:31:24 PM »

Thomas seemed to read Yurie's mind, giving an answer to his unspoken question, "He should be fine, Lieutenant... At least, if he gets someone to take care of him soon."

After he finished speaking, the young guard gazed over at the ship's captain again, deep in thought.  Then, bringing his attention back to the situation at hand, he knelt down next to the dishevelled boy.  "Yurie, if you could help the Lieutenant get up, I'd really appreciate it. Heath, could you walk before me, off the ship? Good!"

Yurie knelt down himself and took Lieutenant Farrel's arm.  Then, using his spear to help him, he heaved the guard up onto his feet.  He was pretty heavy, but he wasn't unconscious, and that helped a lot.

Meanwhile, Thomas had scooped the old man up in his arms and was giving instructions to Heath.  Yurie could see the young guard's legs shaking slightly as he walked over towards the gang plank.

The lieutenant seemed eager to disembark, too, but he was clearly too weak to walk unaided.  So, taking a firm hold of his right arm, Yurie started to walk with him.  When they got to the gangplank, Yurie paused to give a sharp whistle.  Soon enough, Barega appeared from somewhere, his beak covered in gore.  After the large bird had perched on his shoulder, Yurie helped Farrel to descend.  The gangplank was too narrow for them to walk side by side, so Yurie kept a supporting hand on the guard's shoulder as he followed behind.

When they stepped back onto the docks, Yurie noticed a line of city guards.  Thomas was engaged in conversation with their leader.  Taking Farrell's arm again, the two of them made their way over to find out what was going on.

"...They were about to sail off with the Earl's healer, to sell him into slavery. Throw them into prison until we have told the Earl about the whole thing. He will have to decide their punishment. But don't be too soft with them... Oh, and if you could get one of your men to help us get the boy to the castle, I'd appreciate it. He's brave, but about to collapse."

The Earl's healer, eh?  Yurie thought to himself.  So I wonder who's going to heal the healer?
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Capher
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« Reply #44 on: February 13, 2008, 06:11:04 AM »

Farrel gave a sigh of relief at Thomas's answer to his unspoken question. Thomas looked over at the Captain of the ship. Farrel could guess what was going through the young guards mind, but then Thomas turned his attention back to them and then began taking over the situation.

Farrel could not have been prouder of any of his guards as he was with Thomas at that moment.

The stranger, who told Thomas his name; Yurie helped him stand up. The movement brought agonizing pain in Farrel's side. He was thankful for the assistance from Yurie, but could not speak so he said his thanks with a grim smile.

With Yurie's help Farrel walked, though a bit unsteady, behind Thomas who had sent the boy ahead while he was carrying Petrie.  Farrel used his other hand to press against his wound as they walked down the gangplank.

They stopped.

Farrel barely keeping conciousness wondered why and holding onto Yurie's arm he looked over his shoulder and saw Thomas talking to Nat, another guard who was leading a group of heavily armed city guards. Farrel listened to the orders that Thomas gave Nat. Farrel hoped Nat would answer Thomas quickly as he did not know how long he could hang on.
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