Estella was to retire for the night very soon. Tomorrow morning would arrive early, long before the sun. She had just finished a solid plate of food to fill up before setting back out to sea early next day. Before settling in her last bunk on land for this time, however, she had decided to give a small shot at figuring out the chart she had purchased. In case none would know it among Pudding's crew, and also simply because Estella trusted herself and her own knowledge more than anyone else's.
The girl was also marginally interested in hearing what stories the fisherman from the Market would grace the listeners with when he turned up at the Hydra. Particularly when he got sufficiently drunk to reveal the location where he caught the gold in his nets. During her time at the Hydra, Estella had had the opportunity a few times to observe how entire small gangs of desperate and drivelling individuals ardently made sure anyone with alleged knowledge of hidden treasures were given enough liquor for them to go quite so foggy that they'd reveal any hidden X on any map. The young girl was convinced there were other methods too for accessing the required information - people in Nether's Gate usually were very creative in the acquiring of dubious rumours of gold and treasure.
Taking a seat at the bar, Estella looked about the common room to see if she could locate Annie somewhere in at this hour. Meanwhile, she fished out a small and otherwise blank piece of paper on which she had earlier scribbled down the various figures and signs of the Sabatan's chart as best she could. If she were to sit around at the Hydra with an actual chart of the Greater Randes only to have disappeared next morning, everybody would know where she'd be. Obviously, the Greater Randes was a big place, but there was no point in taking risks. These general figures, however, could do no harm.
The Scarlet Hydra (Chyril 27, Eveningtide)
Moderator: Mods
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Charlotte Estella Riddens
- Civus
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2008 10:09 pm
OOC: I hope this is ok and will edit if needed. 
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A lone figure huddled in a empty table by himself frowning. He had just arrived a few minutes ago and hated that the Inn’s crowd. To Seth Ravious it was too many people to his liking but welcomed it since rats were his nagging friends for months at sea. Yeah, he didn’t want to think about those days as stowaway. It was far from pretty. At least he was far away from home.
Fierce green eyes scanned the shitty place and people strutting about. He observed how ‘red’ the weird Inn was. It definitely had a peculiar taste to it and he actually thought it was nice since he spent days on the streets in bad weather begging and shivering from the cold. All he had was clothes that was dirty and well worn from home and a pack with some money. Money often did some used and wondered if he had t pay for food. Seth was a virgin to such a place, for most of h is bloody life was in the fucking butcher kitchen being tormented to butcher living –
No he will not recollect. He will learn about this place. Many features of this place was an appeal to him. A beach absolutely delighted him so much he picked up a handful of sand intrigued at the little grains. No such thing was in Dragonskeep. And this inn was comfortable. He liked the cushions and had stroked one for several minutes as if trying to figure out why it was so soft.
A young thing was at the bar and happened to catch his eye. She wasn’t full breasted and seemed lean and pretty but her face told she had to be waiting for someone? Seth didn’t know and decided to watch her for a while. He liked her high cheekbones and long brown mane. Why did it appeal to him like so?
Angry at himself, Seth picked at his beard with a frown. His hawkish face looked unkempt with awkward beard and dull hunger ache in his eyes. He knew he had to eat soon. His diet lately was hardly sustainable. Standing up, he awkwardly limped to the bar where no one else was and eyed the girl as he waited to be served. Should he talk?
“H-Hello.†Seth said softly to the wall in front of him nervously and sat down shakily. Why did this have to be so hard?
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Rebuilt from an establishment that was left behind in the Duchy the Scarlet Hydra Inn still used its mascot, the wooden sign hanging out proudly, with the painted 5-headed dragon in vibrant scarlet. Perhaps once the establishment was the deep red that its name implies, but for now it was a mottled palette of colours ranging from muted pink to vibrant ruby - repainted so many times that the surface was now a hodgepodge of colours, resembling - once again - the scaley flesh of a grim beast.
The tall, two story building is as yet incomplete, with no apparent signs of construction going on. While the roof is entirely in tact, some of the walls on the upper floor are little more than sheets spread between columns, and many of those sheets appear to have been in place for several months. Numerous dormers peek out from either side of the high roof, suggesting living quarters (both with and without proper walls) on the upper levels. While it is easily the largest building on Nether's Gate, it is far from the most lovely.
The common room has massive tables and chairs with actual cushions scattered about, adding just enough wealth to entice the costumers to perhaps spend a little more. The long bar against the far wall is created out of heavy black walnut. The windows are made of strengthened lead casing and delicately stained, depicting the patron creature of the inn. The decor, while not overly so, is a bit on the tawdry side...much like the patrons.
A lone figure huddled in a empty table by himself frowning. He had just arrived a few minutes ago and hated that the Inn’s crowd. To Seth Ravious it was too many people to his liking but welcomed it since rats were his nagging friends for months at sea. Yeah, he didn’t want to think about those days as stowaway. It was far from pretty. At least he was far away from home.
Fierce green eyes scanned the shitty place and people strutting about. He observed how ‘red’ the weird Inn was. It definitely had a peculiar taste to it and he actually thought it was nice since he spent days on the streets in bad weather begging and shivering from the cold. All he had was clothes that was dirty and well worn from home and a pack with some money. Money often did some used and wondered if he had t pay for food. Seth was a virgin to such a place, for most of h is bloody life was in the fucking butcher kitchen being tormented to butcher living –
No he will not recollect. He will learn about this place. Many features of this place was an appeal to him. A beach absolutely delighted him so much he picked up a handful of sand intrigued at the little grains. No such thing was in Dragonskeep. And this inn was comfortable. He liked the cushions and had stroked one for several minutes as if trying to figure out why it was so soft.
Taking a seat at the bar, Estella looked about the common room to see if she could locate Annie somewhere in at this hour. Meanwhile, she fished out a small and otherwise blank piece of paper on which she had earlier scribbled down the various figures and signs of the Sabatan's chart as best she could. If she were to sit around at the Hydra with an actual chart of the Greater Randes only to have disappeared next morning, everybody would know where she'd be. Obviously, the Greater Randes was a big place, but there was no point in taking risks. These general figures, however, could do no harm.
A young thing was at the bar and happened to catch his eye. She wasn’t full breasted and seemed lean and pretty but her face told she had to be waiting for someone? Seth didn’t know and decided to watch her for a while. He liked her high cheekbones and long brown mane. Why did it appeal to him like so?
Angry at himself, Seth picked at his beard with a frown. His hawkish face looked unkempt with awkward beard and dull hunger ache in his eyes. He knew he had to eat soon. His diet lately was hardly sustainable. Standing up, he awkwardly limped to the bar where no one else was and eyed the girl as he waited to be served. Should he talk?
“H-Hello.†Seth said softly to the wall in front of him nervously and sat down shakily. Why did this have to be so hard?
Any curiosity about the cuisine at Nether's Gate didn't last very long. Fish. Virtually every meal...with no exceptions...was harvested from the sea, and while a few small farming villages lived upon the Isle of Rande, they could never produce enough to satisfy a more diverse diet for the growing town. Yellow Jack and Mutton Snapper were the delicacies offered today, served with rice (a common staple from Nick's Farm) seasoned with something spicey. Naturally, conch fritters were a frequent dish to be had as well, though it was often debatable whether actual conch was nestled within the breaded and vat-fried pieces.
And then there was short beer, of course, with Dortese Ale also in supply...compliments of Captain Linasis, for those who knew it. Of course, the prices were rather relaxed...such was the case when supplies were plentiful...but soon enough, one or both would run short, and the Gate would become dangerously close to dry once again. Alcohol...be it sea-going rum, imported ales or wines, or local spirits...were a very popular prize to take, perhaps as popular as the critical spars and cords needed to keep the Sea Rovers in business.
Unlike Estella's earlier visit...which had been at midday...the Scarlet Hydra was packed. It wasn't just the eveningtide that made it so, either: The Myrmidon had made her number, and there were easily over a hundred of them scattered around the Hydra, drinking beers, absently nibbling on fritters, and laughing at off-color jokes. Captain Dupre was not evident in the inn...but then, neither was Captain Linasis of the Roark's Revenge, who was working his crew all through the night to pull the ship off of the strand for an offing in the morningtide or perhaps the day after.
However, there was a subtle difference in the Myrmidos compared to the Roarks Estella had seen earlier. Aside from the vast number of them...the Myrmidon was a very large ship, tipping the scale at around a thousand tons...the crew didn't have the strong sense of unification seen among the Roarks. Rumors about the Myrmidon held that she was a shot-roller, with more than a few political problems among her ranks...and the behavior of her crew did little to dissuade these rumors. Huddled in small groups...watchful of each other...almost guarded as if they were visiting ports in King's Court...the crew seemed nervous in a way that simply wasn't flattering.
Of course, the Myrmidos didn't make up the whole of the visitors. There was what appeared to be a priest sitting at one table with a group of sailors and orscars, pointing at a pair of bone dice on the table and barking some kind of obscenity at the infernal things, while a few other town dwellers were placed discreetly about. Estella caught sight of Bill Riley at a table surrounded by Myrmidos, a deck of worn cards shuffling in his hands. He nodded slightly at Estella, in such a way that drew no attention at all.
As for Annie, she was not behind the bar where Estella expected her to be. Instead, a thinner, more modest blonde with a sharp, pointed face and sharp, intelligent eyes nodded to welcome her two new visitors and placed drinks before them before they had even settled into their seats (for the Scarlet Hydra featured stools flanking the bar, unlike most inns in the Western Continent). "Name's Mary Worth," she announced, raising her voice to be heard over the din. "You juss let me know what ya need, an I'll be 'ere to see t'it." It was only through pure luck that Seth managed to find an available seat next to the newly-arrived Estella, for the Hydra was as busy as she could ever be.
Curiously, of the fisherman, Estella saw no sign at all quite yet.
And then there was short beer, of course, with Dortese Ale also in supply...compliments of Captain Linasis, for those who knew it. Of course, the prices were rather relaxed...such was the case when supplies were plentiful...but soon enough, one or both would run short, and the Gate would become dangerously close to dry once again. Alcohol...be it sea-going rum, imported ales or wines, or local spirits...were a very popular prize to take, perhaps as popular as the critical spars and cords needed to keep the Sea Rovers in business.
Unlike Estella's earlier visit...which had been at midday...the Scarlet Hydra was packed. It wasn't just the eveningtide that made it so, either: The Myrmidon had made her number, and there were easily over a hundred of them scattered around the Hydra, drinking beers, absently nibbling on fritters, and laughing at off-color jokes. Captain Dupre was not evident in the inn...but then, neither was Captain Linasis of the Roark's Revenge, who was working his crew all through the night to pull the ship off of the strand for an offing in the morningtide or perhaps the day after.
However, there was a subtle difference in the Myrmidos compared to the Roarks Estella had seen earlier. Aside from the vast number of them...the Myrmidon was a very large ship, tipping the scale at around a thousand tons...the crew didn't have the strong sense of unification seen among the Roarks. Rumors about the Myrmidon held that she was a shot-roller, with more than a few political problems among her ranks...and the behavior of her crew did little to dissuade these rumors. Huddled in small groups...watchful of each other...almost guarded as if they were visiting ports in King's Court...the crew seemed nervous in a way that simply wasn't flattering.
Of course, the Myrmidos didn't make up the whole of the visitors. There was what appeared to be a priest sitting at one table with a group of sailors and orscars, pointing at a pair of bone dice on the table and barking some kind of obscenity at the infernal things, while a few other town dwellers were placed discreetly about. Estella caught sight of Bill Riley at a table surrounded by Myrmidos, a deck of worn cards shuffling in his hands. He nodded slightly at Estella, in such a way that drew no attention at all.
As for Annie, she was not behind the bar where Estella expected her to be. Instead, a thinner, more modest blonde with a sharp, pointed face and sharp, intelligent eyes nodded to welcome her two new visitors and placed drinks before them before they had even settled into their seats (for the Scarlet Hydra featured stools flanking the bar, unlike most inns in the Western Continent). "Name's Mary Worth," she announced, raising her voice to be heard over the din. "You juss let me know what ya need, an I'll be 'ere to see t'it." It was only through pure luck that Seth managed to find an available seat next to the newly-arrived Estella, for the Hydra was as busy as she could ever be.
Curiously, of the fisherman, Estella saw no sign at all quite yet.
Maeve: It starts with ambition
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
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Charlotte Estella Riddens
- Civus
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2008 10:09 pm
Estella met Bill's gaze briefly, careful not to draw any attention to the two of them. First impression, Bill Riley acted like a decent fellow. Of the fisherman from the Onyx Market though, there was no sign yet. Somebody ripped him of his secrets already...? Estella mused ironically.
No Annie around either, but this Mary seemed clear-minded enough. "Thanks," said Estella pleasantly on receiving her drink. A strange, nervous-looking individual had found a seat at the bar beside her. Estella flashed the man a quick smile in recognition before she turned back to the barmaid. "Mary," she inquired friendly in a non-committal and relaxed tone, "if you don't mind..."
Estella put the piece of paper she had prepared on the bar. Her copying work was hardly the neatest you'd find in the West (after all, she could probably count the times she'd ever used a writing instrument before on one hand), but it would do. The various figures and signs she had found on the merchant's chart had been arranged randomly in two vertical rows on the paper, to leave each symbol with free space next to it.
"See..." Estella glanced up at Mary with a grin. "I'm trying to teach myself reading sea charter figures, but sometimes, you know, they're hardly self-explainable. Unfortunately, I don't really have the muscles to match the average pirate thug bastard..." The girl jerked a thumb backwards at the general Hydra crowd. "So you gotta beat 'em where you can beat 'em, you know. In my experience, matters which require just the slightest thinking energy tend to be a good place to start." The girl smiled ironically, and with a good portion of mirth.
"Question is, you know anyone around can introduce me briefly to this code language?"
No Annie around either, but this Mary seemed clear-minded enough. "Thanks," said Estella pleasantly on receiving her drink. A strange, nervous-looking individual had found a seat at the bar beside her. Estella flashed the man a quick smile in recognition before she turned back to the barmaid. "Mary," she inquired friendly in a non-committal and relaxed tone, "if you don't mind..."
Estella put the piece of paper she had prepared on the bar. Her copying work was hardly the neatest you'd find in the West (after all, she could probably count the times she'd ever used a writing instrument before on one hand), but it would do. The various figures and signs she had found on the merchant's chart had been arranged randomly in two vertical rows on the paper, to leave each symbol with free space next to it.
"See..." Estella glanced up at Mary with a grin. "I'm trying to teach myself reading sea charter figures, but sometimes, you know, they're hardly self-explainable. Unfortunately, I don't really have the muscles to match the average pirate thug bastard..." The girl jerked a thumb backwards at the general Hydra crowd. "So you gotta beat 'em where you can beat 'em, you know. In my experience, matters which require just the slightest thinking energy tend to be a good place to start." The girl smiled ironically, and with a good portion of mirth.
"Question is, you know anyone around can introduce me briefly to this code language?"
Leaning forward, Mary glanced down at the scrap, smiling slightly at the girl's comments. "Wull, hun, I know a couple of these. SDT stands for semi-durnal tides, I think, which is what we got here in the Dusks. Not like the Mere, where they got one high tide...or the cape down south where they got wonky tides with three or four highs in a day. HHT is for Higher High Tide, while LLT is for Lower Low Tide. Now, as for this symbol..." she pressed a finger at the most obscure symbol "...I never seen nothin' like that 'fore."
That was pretty much all Estella needed to know to at least use the charts effectively...but then, she had almost guessed as much already. That only left the curious cn/oz measure that apparently marked salinity...and frankly, salinity didn't matter too much when one was trying to sail a ship. "You could ask the Parson about it. I 'ear 'e knows a few things from 'is days of study in the big cities..." she motioned towards the priest at one table who had apparently seen some benefit from his condemnation of the dice. The modest stack of Mouth-weight coins sitting before him sat a little taller and prouder than they once had (much like the priest who owned them).
Elsewhere...
Bill wasn't really playing to win. He was playing to stall. Estella was here...that was fine...but she didn't know what he was about yet. Hell...I don't know what I'm about yet, thought the pirate with a grimace as he flipped out a new deal of cards, his fingers deftly running a clean and rather boring game. Puddings had been very clear on this one. "Look for this guy...and if you see him, Shut Him Up!" remembered Riley. It wasn't a great start for his new Company...but risk was everywhere, and if some talker's accidental-a-purpose death might improve their changes, well...
That's how the cards fall, conceded the killer, tossing his cards in to fold. He wouldn't be the first person Bill had killed this month, anyway.
That was pretty much all Estella needed to know to at least use the charts effectively...but then, she had almost guessed as much already. That only left the curious cn/oz measure that apparently marked salinity...and frankly, salinity didn't matter too much when one was trying to sail a ship. "You could ask the Parson about it. I 'ear 'e knows a few things from 'is days of study in the big cities..." she motioned towards the priest at one table who had apparently seen some benefit from his condemnation of the dice. The modest stack of Mouth-weight coins sitting before him sat a little taller and prouder than they once had (much like the priest who owned them).
Elsewhere...
Bill wasn't really playing to win. He was playing to stall. Estella was here...that was fine...but she didn't know what he was about yet. Hell...I don't know what I'm about yet, thought the pirate with a grimace as he flipped out a new deal of cards, his fingers deftly running a clean and rather boring game. Puddings had been very clear on this one. "Look for this guy...and if you see him, Shut Him Up!" remembered Riley. It wasn't a great start for his new Company...but risk was everywhere, and if some talker's accidental-a-purpose death might improve their changes, well...
That's how the cards fall, conceded the killer, tossing his cards in to fold. He wouldn't be the first person Bill had killed this month, anyway.
Maeve: It starts with ambition
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
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Charlotte Estella Riddens
- Civus
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2008 10:09 pm
This ain't so hard as it looks, concluded Estella as Mary explained the meaning of the more important symbols, explanations that matched her own speculations surprisingly well. "On first sight, damn it," she said, grinning at Mary, "this scrawl looks damn near incomprehensible. But all that's required is a bit of thinking and a small helping hand, and it's all clear as crystal."
At the barmaid's mention of him, Estella glanced briefly in the direction of the priest, lifting an eyebrow. "A priest in the Gate? - I guess he picked the right spot if he was looking for souls in need of guidance." The young girl gave a large smile. "Anyhow, Mary..."
While Estella was often jokes and a light mood, that didn't mean superficial clever comments were all that was to her. She was often very quick to make up her mind about people, for instance concluding almost immediately that the Ezekiel fellow back this morning was an all-in-all decent fellow. Similarly, she had come to like Mary immediately. Where Annie sported a crazy laughter and was great to joke with, there was Mary's slight and intelligent smile, communicating an almost motherly and controlled affection and understanding.
And intuitively, for Mary to properly appreciate that Estella recognised her good heart, the girl felt that a proper thanks must come on a different level than the more non-committing joking atmosphere. "Big thanks, Mary," she said with a sincere smile and a grateful nod. "Big thanks. Really appreciate it." If I ever need to talk about a troubled mind or cry out it, goddamnit, I'd much rather consult Mary than any madcap priest.
Saluting, Estella nonetheless left the bar in favour of the Parson, as Mary had called the man. Not that there really was any need for inquiring further with regards to the chart, but the girl had little business to attend to at the moment except for waiting. Besides, there was a chance the fisherman she had encountered at the Onyx Market would turn up sooner or later. Estella glanced around the room once more to see if he might have popped up yet, but there was only Bill she recognised. Bill looked thoughtful, but then, that was only to be expected of a sailor of his like, having joined an expedition that ought be considered risky at best. No fisherman yet though...No wonder, Estella, she mused, I'll hear it as soon as that high-up fellow marches in with the whole freakin' orchestra tracing his steps.
"It's not so often one encounters priests in this place, is it...?" Arriving at the priest's table, Estella nodded at the man and grabbed a chair. "Do you mind?"
At the barmaid's mention of him, Estella glanced briefly in the direction of the priest, lifting an eyebrow. "A priest in the Gate? - I guess he picked the right spot if he was looking for souls in need of guidance." The young girl gave a large smile. "Anyhow, Mary..."
While Estella was often jokes and a light mood, that didn't mean superficial clever comments were all that was to her. She was often very quick to make up her mind about people, for instance concluding almost immediately that the Ezekiel fellow back this morning was an all-in-all decent fellow. Similarly, she had come to like Mary immediately. Where Annie sported a crazy laughter and was great to joke with, there was Mary's slight and intelligent smile, communicating an almost motherly and controlled affection and understanding.
And intuitively, for Mary to properly appreciate that Estella recognised her good heart, the girl felt that a proper thanks must come on a different level than the more non-committing joking atmosphere. "Big thanks, Mary," she said with a sincere smile and a grateful nod. "Big thanks. Really appreciate it." If I ever need to talk about a troubled mind or cry out it, goddamnit, I'd much rather consult Mary than any madcap priest.
Saluting, Estella nonetheless left the bar in favour of the Parson, as Mary had called the man. Not that there really was any need for inquiring further with regards to the chart, but the girl had little business to attend to at the moment except for waiting. Besides, there was a chance the fisherman she had encountered at the Onyx Market would turn up sooner or later. Estella glanced around the room once more to see if he might have popped up yet, but there was only Bill she recognised. Bill looked thoughtful, but then, that was only to be expected of a sailor of his like, having joined an expedition that ought be considered risky at best. No fisherman yet though...No wonder, Estella, she mused, I'll hear it as soon as that high-up fellow marches in with the whole freakin' orchestra tracing his steps.
"It's not so often one encounters priests in this place, is it...?" Arriving at the priest's table, Estella nodded at the man and grabbed a chair. "Do you mind?"
The game was often called Jacks, or Threes, or any of a dozen other names...and it was little more than a mind-numbingly simple way for several simple-minded persons to gather together and redistribute their wealth (in a very simple way). Like most dice games (with the possible exception of Liar's Dice), it required absolutely no skill at all...and only a passing amount of memory to recall the current high score for each round of play. Of course, luck did help...though being too lucky at a table full of bored, violent pirates didn't always mean winning a lot.
It didn't seem that the odd holy man had any concern at all regarding his winnings. He was indeed winning...his stack of lances seemed far more towering and healthy than those of his opponents...but if any of the Myrmidos at the table took any exception to his good fortune, they didn't demonstrate it. Not yet, anyway.
At first, the parson only spared a very cursory glance at Estella. "Another beer, if you please," he ordered, mistaking the approaching woman as one of the many barmaids (there were several due to the hectic eveningtide crowds). However, he realized his error rather quickly and offered her a second (and far more cautious) inspection. "Ah...not at all hun, but if it's a wedding you want, it'll have to wait 'till the morningtide," he quickly amended.
Of course, Estella's arrival attracted additional attention from the four others at the table as well. "The game is Threes with lances," barked a wiry, compact killer that would be sitting to Estella's left opposite the parson. The man's right arm was entirely covered by a series of needle tattoos that centered around a pilot designation...a bower anchor fouled by a thick hawser. "If you got lances, have a seat, doll."
Of course, the insinuation in the pilot's voice was very clear...meaning that if she did not have lances...or would not otherwise participate in the game...then she most certainly could not seat herself at the table (not an uncommon reaction for those seeking to join a game).
It didn't seem that the odd holy man had any concern at all regarding his winnings. He was indeed winning...his stack of lances seemed far more towering and healthy than those of his opponents...but if any of the Myrmidos at the table took any exception to his good fortune, they didn't demonstrate it. Not yet, anyway.
At first, the parson only spared a very cursory glance at Estella. "Another beer, if you please," he ordered, mistaking the approaching woman as one of the many barmaids (there were several due to the hectic eveningtide crowds). However, he realized his error rather quickly and offered her a second (and far more cautious) inspection. "Ah...not at all hun, but if it's a wedding you want, it'll have to wait 'till the morningtide," he quickly amended.
Of course, Estella's arrival attracted additional attention from the four others at the table as well. "The game is Threes with lances," barked a wiry, compact killer that would be sitting to Estella's left opposite the parson. The man's right arm was entirely covered by a series of needle tattoos that centered around a pilot designation...a bower anchor fouled by a thick hawser. "If you got lances, have a seat, doll."
Of course, the insinuation in the pilot's voice was very clear...meaning that if she did not have lances...or would not otherwise participate in the game...then she most certainly could not seat herself at the table (not an uncommon reaction for those seeking to join a game).
Maeve: It starts with ambition
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
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Charlotte Estella Riddens
- Civus
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2008 10:09 pm
"Another beer this way, please!" Catching the eye of a waitress, Estella motioned to the priest. And a drinking and gambling priest at that! There's a combination I believe I haven't seen before - not even in Nether's Gate. The girl smiled slightly and gave a short nod at the holy man, and extending it to the various Myrmidos around the table, then sat down to the right of the rough-looking pilot without further hesitation.
"No wedding that I know of," Estella continued slowly as she built a small stack of lances on the table from her own purse. She grinned lightly. "Nor a burial - indeed, no trip to the Canticles at all, I hope." Completing her modest tower of coin, Estella gave a short pause. "How's that Riley holdin' up, by the way, in that church of his? You people know the man? - the Parson Riley."
Staying in Nether's Gate for some time, there were certain personae and places part of the local culture that were referred to in a such a natural manner that everybody obviously were familiar with them. Jimmy Bung down by the White Man was one such character. Another one was this priest Riley. To her knowledge, Estella had never seen the man, but she had heard mention of him several times and even visited the Canticles on a couple of occasions just to look around.
Estella was happy to keep it to harmless small talk at this point. If a good opportunity presented itself, she supposed she could ask further about the chart, but there really was no need considering the assistance Mary had already provided her. Sitting back in her chair to relax, the young girl waited for the dices to begin rolling. She'd played Threes before - and the game hardly required her full mind.
"No wedding that I know of," Estella continued slowly as she built a small stack of lances on the table from her own purse. She grinned lightly. "Nor a burial - indeed, no trip to the Canticles at all, I hope." Completing her modest tower of coin, Estella gave a short pause. "How's that Riley holdin' up, by the way, in that church of his? You people know the man? - the Parson Riley."
Staying in Nether's Gate for some time, there were certain personae and places part of the local culture that were referred to in a such a natural manner that everybody obviously were familiar with them. Jimmy Bung down by the White Man was one such character. Another one was this priest Riley. To her knowledge, Estella had never seen the man, but she had heard mention of him several times and even visited the Canticles on a couple of occasions just to look around.
Estella was happy to keep it to harmless small talk at this point. If a good opportunity presented itself, she supposed she could ask further about the chart, but there really was no need considering the assistance Mary had already provided her. Sitting back in her chair to relax, the young girl waited for the dices to begin rolling. She'd played Threes before - and the game hardly required her full mind.
Mary...
As Estella vacated her seat, he curiously stared at it and frowned to himself. For a long moment he watched the busy crowds. Oh he hated crowds. His voice barely carried over the overlapping voices and chairs thumping, boards creaking...
Shit.
Ya nuffin' b'y. Git some drinks and grubs for sake a gruff angry voice erupted in his head.
"I don't know how" Seth confessed to himself.
That girl Mary gots shit for you to drink and eat you idiot!
Seth frowned eyeing her and rubbed his ear nervously raising his voice awkwardly, "I be hungry and thirsty."
You blunderin' fool. Quite a fuckin charmer are you? Go back to the rats, for fuck's sake.
"Shut up! I need to think..." Seth snapped at himself and twitched a bit, fumbling with his pack knowing eyes were on him. He didn't know what to get and frankly he didn't care. He went undeniably mad due to dire thirst and hunger. He had been on a ship for months and he did not have best of luck having food daily.
"M-M...Mahee right?" Seth asked mispronouncing her name "Um, I want meat and uh um..." he thought for a second and decided to taste what he was insanely curious about, "ale?"
As Estella vacated her seat, he curiously stared at it and frowned to himself. For a long moment he watched the busy crowds. Oh he hated crowds. His voice barely carried over the overlapping voices and chairs thumping, boards creaking...
Shit.
Ya nuffin' b'y. Git some drinks and grubs for sake a gruff angry voice erupted in his head.
"I don't know how" Seth confessed to himself.
That girl Mary gots shit for you to drink and eat you idiot!
Seth frowned eyeing her and rubbed his ear nervously raising his voice awkwardly, "I be hungry and thirsty."
You blunderin' fool. Quite a fuckin charmer are you? Go back to the rats, for fuck's sake.
"Shut up! I need to think..." Seth snapped at himself and twitched a bit, fumbling with his pack knowing eyes were on him. He didn't know what to get and frankly he didn't care. He went undeniably mad due to dire thirst and hunger. He had been on a ship for months and he did not have best of luck having food daily.
"M-M...Mahee right?" Seth asked mispronouncing her name "Um, I want meat and uh um..." he thought for a second and decided to taste what he was insanely curious about, "ale?"
-
Ezekiel Lee
- Pirate
- Posts: 51
- Joined: Sun Mar 09, 2008 4:09 pm
- Location: King's Court
"Aye, an' another ale 'ere, Mary, if ya would be so kind." Zeke slouched against the bar beside Seth, and flashed his most charming smile at the barmaid. His search for Estella around the Gate had been mostly uneventful and completely unsuccessful, though it appeared both she and he had gravitated back to the Hydra as the light failed. It had taken him a moment or more to notice the girl, being as the place was so packed... but upon noticing her he'd felt it rather rude to go marching directly over to collar her. Impolite and... somewhat obvious.
Accepting his drink graciously, Zeke glanced around the bar to take in a few of the other patrons. With luck, Troy and a few of the other crew of the Myrmidon would still be about, though the plan had taken perhaps a little longer than ideal. He hoped they would not think him too remiss in his promised duties... and that such an opinion would not get relayed to Captain Dupree, upon whose trust he had pinned this difficult plan. Or, more simply, don't wanna be thought an idle liar...
Biting at his bottom lip thoughtfully, Zeke scanned the room once more as if he were looking for someone (which he was and he wasn't, really), and then rather abruptly spoke, "Don't believe I recognise yer face, lad. Are ye wiv the Roarks or the Myrmidos...?" This with an enquiring and nominally pleasant glance at Seth. Ezekiel merely thought to make passing conversation while he decided how best to pry Estella from her new cardplaying friends.
Accepting his drink graciously, Zeke glanced around the bar to take in a few of the other patrons. With luck, Troy and a few of the other crew of the Myrmidon would still be about, though the plan had taken perhaps a little longer than ideal. He hoped they would not think him too remiss in his promised duties... and that such an opinion would not get relayed to Captain Dupree, upon whose trust he had pinned this difficult plan. Or, more simply, don't wanna be thought an idle liar...
Biting at his bottom lip thoughtfully, Zeke scanned the room once more as if he were looking for someone (which he was and he wasn't, really), and then rather abruptly spoke, "Don't believe I recognise yer face, lad. Are ye wiv the Roarks or the Myrmidos...?" This with an enquiring and nominally pleasant glance at Seth. Ezekiel merely thought to make passing conversation while he decided how best to pry Estella from her new cardplaying friends.
[size=92][i]I believe there's a storm a' brewin',
Nine crows at nine o'clock nigh.[/i][/size]
Nine crows at nine o'clock nigh.[/i][/size]
Biting at his bottom lip thoughtfully, Zeke scanned the room once more as if he were looking for someone (which he was and he wasn't, really), and then rather abruptly spoke, "Don't believe I recognise yer face, lad. Are ye wiv the Roarks or the Myrmidos...?" This with an enquiring and nominally pleasant glance at Seth. Ezekiel merely thought to make passing conversation while he decided how best to pry Estella from her new cardplaying friends.
Seth didn’t expect to be noticed and eyed the man beside him intensely as if he was some mythical creature. He was a little taller than himself with dark eyes and ‘dirty’ looking hair. Seth didn’t look neat and clean either so perhaps this was a normal thing in Nether’s Gate.
Having no clue what to say the quiet man stammered out slightly mispronouncing the words, “meh name is naw lad.â€
He grunted a bit and shifted with paranoia creeping in. Was he supposed to be with Roarks or Myrmidos? Tongue couldn’t lie. Fuck…
The stranger’s eyes reminded him of his long passed grandfather who like butchering out in the sun whether it was cold or not. He was a character for sure. Seth realized he was dragging out a moment’s pause and awkwardly smiled, avoiding his question so he could learn more. Instead of answering a question he decided to ask one though he knew little about polite conversation, “Yah sm-sma….smell. Like me. Why?â€
Stupid question wasn’t it? His lips twitched into a half smile and watched the man’s face curiously forgetting his clenching hunger pains for a moment. Who was this stranger?
"Yeah, I know 'im ok. He's me," replied the Riley, tossing a lance in the center of the table and jerking his thumb back towards his breast. "Not a lot of customers these days, but at least my luck's holdin'." The lance was not alone, of course. As the round's ante, it was joined by four others (including one from Estella) to prepare for the next.
The parson had won the last round, so it was he that reached for the bones to start the next round. Rolling all five, he knocked out a "1" on his first roll, two "3"s on his second, a "1" on his third, and was left with a "4" on the last roll...a score of six, which was rather respectable. As far as scores went, the game of Threes was a competition for the lowest score when all five dice were totalled (though threes were counted for no points at all). The dice could be rerolled as many times as the player wished, though at least one dice had to be "kept" after each roll. Any player of Threes knew that six was a difficult number to beat...and those that didn't play it could tell by the dispirited looks upon the faces of all others at the table.
"Try to beat a six," waved Riley, sliding the dice towards Estella. "And when you're done, you can tell me what I can do for you, hun. If it ain't a wedding or a funeral, well, at least it'll be interesting."
Elsewhere...
Not surprisingly, one could find virtually anything in Nether's Gate. Anything from pistols to clocks to ice crystals to Rosestones...it could all be had if one knew where to look or perhaps the right people to ask. Strangely, many of the most mundane, simple things in the world were in very short supply, though...things such as nails, rope, tools, lumber...the kind of things that were consumed by a growing community. For this reason, some of the most common things acquired prices well beyond outrageous...such as a coronet for an auger, a crown for an ingot of steel, and (in times of shortage) absolutely no alcohol to be found.
And then there were things that were virtually never found...chief among them meat. While mutton, boar (or any other kind of swine), chicken, or beef can be readily found in the countryside of the Western Kingdoms, here it was literally absent. In a town in which refined, corned gunpowder could be purchased for two crowns two per cask, one simply could not find an egg...much less a rack of lamb.
Mary didn't need to explain this. Whoever the newcomer was, he was no stranger to hardship (though she hadn't quite placed him as a sailor, he was clearly not a noble). Instead, she simply went to fetch him the Mutton Snapper that most people were eating tonight. That...plus a modest pile of conch fritters...would have to do. This she delivered to Seth along with drinks for both him and Zeke, who at that very moment had caught sight of Troy at the far end of the pub. Troy was flanked by four large bruisers...clearly experienced rovers...all of whom sat and sipped at neglected beers quietly. Despite their demeanor of quiet oblivion, the orc quartermaster's eyes were never still for long, scanning the room cautiously and pausing only briefly upon Zeke in recognition.
The parson had won the last round, so it was he that reached for the bones to start the next round. Rolling all five, he knocked out a "1" on his first roll, two "3"s on his second, a "1" on his third, and was left with a "4" on the last roll...a score of six, which was rather respectable. As far as scores went, the game of Threes was a competition for the lowest score when all five dice were totalled (though threes were counted for no points at all). The dice could be rerolled as many times as the player wished, though at least one dice had to be "kept" after each roll. Any player of Threes knew that six was a difficult number to beat...and those that didn't play it could tell by the dispirited looks upon the faces of all others at the table.
"Try to beat a six," waved Riley, sliding the dice towards Estella. "And when you're done, you can tell me what I can do for you, hun. If it ain't a wedding or a funeral, well, at least it'll be interesting."
Elsewhere...
Not surprisingly, one could find virtually anything in Nether's Gate. Anything from pistols to clocks to ice crystals to Rosestones...it could all be had if one knew where to look or perhaps the right people to ask. Strangely, many of the most mundane, simple things in the world were in very short supply, though...things such as nails, rope, tools, lumber...the kind of things that were consumed by a growing community. For this reason, some of the most common things acquired prices well beyond outrageous...such as a coronet for an auger, a crown for an ingot of steel, and (in times of shortage) absolutely no alcohol to be found.
And then there were things that were virtually never found...chief among them meat. While mutton, boar (or any other kind of swine), chicken, or beef can be readily found in the countryside of the Western Kingdoms, here it was literally absent. In a town in which refined, corned gunpowder could be purchased for two crowns two per cask, one simply could not find an egg...much less a rack of lamb.
Mary didn't need to explain this. Whoever the newcomer was, he was no stranger to hardship (though she hadn't quite placed him as a sailor, he was clearly not a noble). Instead, she simply went to fetch him the Mutton Snapper that most people were eating tonight. That...plus a modest pile of conch fritters...would have to do. This she delivered to Seth along with drinks for both him and Zeke, who at that very moment had caught sight of Troy at the far end of the pub. Troy was flanked by four large bruisers...clearly experienced rovers...all of whom sat and sipped at neglected beers quietly. Despite their demeanor of quiet oblivion, the orc quartermaster's eyes were never still for long, scanning the room cautiously and pausing only briefly upon Zeke in recognition.
Maeve: It starts with ambition
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
-
Charlotte Estella Riddens
- Civus
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2008 10:09 pm
That'd make sense. For some reason, Estella had envisioned the Riley priest to be something of an oasis of piety, of strict devotion - that you'd have to be a fervent believer of no compromises to survive as a priest in such a landscape of drinking, whoring, gambling and violence as represented by Nether's Gate. But apparently not so. Perhaps it even makes more sense with a priest gambler, someone to adapt to the circumstances rather than constantly condemn them?
"Glad to hear it," she commented as she picked up the dice to beat the Parson's total of six, shaking them lazily in her hand. "Speaking of coin and luck, I was running into an over-the-top blissful fisherman at Onyx just earlier. The man apparently had a major gold catch in his net somewhere, flaunting his newfound prosperity as best he could, and was heading for the Hydra tonight. Now there's a bastard luck, but considering the lack of brow on the fool, I suspect he'll part with the very same gold sooner than later." Grinning, Estella gave her first throw of the dice.
"Whichever... I've been teaching myself reading sea charter figures lately, and Mary over at the bar says the Parson is a learned man who might well know the meaning of this symbols that I haven't quite figured out yet." Starting to pick up the dice she would want to throw again, Estella explained and drew the symbols in question on the table with the fingers of her other hand for the priest and the others to see.
"Glad to hear it," she commented as she picked up the dice to beat the Parson's total of six, shaking them lazily in her hand. "Speaking of coin and luck, I was running into an over-the-top blissful fisherman at Onyx just earlier. The man apparently had a major gold catch in his net somewhere, flaunting his newfound prosperity as best he could, and was heading for the Hydra tonight. Now there's a bastard luck, but considering the lack of brow on the fool, I suspect he'll part with the very same gold sooner than later." Grinning, Estella gave her first throw of the dice.
"Whichever... I've been teaching myself reading sea charter figures lately, and Mary over at the bar says the Parson is a learned man who might well know the meaning of this symbols that I haven't quite figured out yet." Starting to pick up the dice she would want to throw again, Estella explained and drew the symbols in question on the table with the fingers of her other hand for the priest and the others to see.
-
Ezekiel Lee
- Pirate
- Posts: 51
- Joined: Sun Mar 09, 2008 4:09 pm
- Location: King's Court
Zeke's eyes did not rest on Troy and the other Myrmidos for more than the briefest flicker, but rather were occupied sweeping the rest of the bar in a casual and apparently thoughtless way when Seth's question was abruptly posed. Immediately, his gaze snapped back to the scruffy stranger with a sharp look of incredulity, which the rover smothered as rapidly as he could with a glance upwards, to the ceiling for want of a better place, and his face twisted into a grin.
...smell the same...? Ah, Zeke, ye must always pick the craziest one in th' bar fer a chat, mustn't yeh...?
"Good sense a' smell, 'ave ye...?" Ezekiel replied cordially enough, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. The problem was that Master Lee was a pirate, and thus enjoyed a good confrontation as much as the next man. And the next man was also a pirate... Theatrically, he leaned forward and sniffed Seth, and his nose wrinkled in displeasure. The next time he spoke it was delivered loudly enough that others around the bar might hear and take note.
"Are ye sayin' I smell like shit?"
...smell the same...? Ah, Zeke, ye must always pick the craziest one in th' bar fer a chat, mustn't yeh...?
"Good sense a' smell, 'ave ye...?" Ezekiel replied cordially enough, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. The problem was that Master Lee was a pirate, and thus enjoyed a good confrontation as much as the next man. And the next man was also a pirate... Theatrically, he leaned forward and sniffed Seth, and his nose wrinkled in displeasure. The next time he spoke it was delivered loudly enough that others around the bar might hear and take note.
"Are ye sayin' I smell like shit?"
[size=92][i]I believe there's a storm a' brewin',
Nine crows at nine o'clock nigh.[/i][/size]
Nine crows at nine o'clock nigh.[/i][/size]
Nice tits on her b’y and you didn’t even fuckin’ looks. What’s wrong wit ya b’y? the voice in Seth’s head sneered.
Seth stared at his ‘Mutton Snapper’ without discrimination. He just didn’t care and drove his hungry dirty hands in the food wolfing down the thing as much as he could. Food soothed the stomach blissfully even though the stinky man didn’t know what it was and it tasted strange but so good. He snatched his drink and coughed, spluttering at the taste. He paid no attention to Zeke until he spoke up.
In mid chew, Seth frowned and had his fingers in his mouth staring at Zeke childishly. Not liking to be sniffed, his hand rubbed his ear obsessively.
You little git b’y, he wants ya dead the gruff voice snapped and Seth flinched. What should he do? Feeling uneasy, Seth grabbed his drink he started to like and drank. This guy must be a pirate…but he…
“Um…†Seth started nervously and had the strong urge to fight yet bolt simultaneously. Eyes were on him and Seth didn’t want to know how many were watching. Anger randomly flared up and dark fire lit his eyes but it was a flicker of a second. Seth couldn’t say the word ‘shit’ well and wasn’t sure if the guy was armed or not.
He be waitin’…waitin’ on the cow to comes home! Move ya fuckin ass. Now.
Seth didn’t know how to socially talk himself out of trouble and abruptly narrowed his eyes staring down Zeke and finally said, “Moo.â€
Seth thumbed his trusty cleaver and pulled it out, licking the dirty blade.
Oh for fuck’s sake…you gonna get dead. He’s no cow ya idiot! the voice screamed at him but Seth ignored it and waited…
Seth stared at his ‘Mutton Snapper’ without discrimination. He just didn’t care and drove his hungry dirty hands in the food wolfing down the thing as much as he could. Food soothed the stomach blissfully even though the stinky man didn’t know what it was and it tasted strange but so good. He snatched his drink and coughed, spluttering at the taste. He paid no attention to Zeke until he spoke up.
"Good sense a' smell, 'ave ye...?" Ezekiel replied cordially enough, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. The problem was that Master Lee was a pirate, and thus enjoyed a good confrontation as much as the next man. And the next man was also a pirate... Theatrically, he leaned forward and sniffed Seth, and his nose wrinkled in displeasure. The next time he spoke it was delivered loudly enough that others around the bar might hear and take note.
"Are ye sayin' I smell like shit?"
In mid chew, Seth frowned and had his fingers in his mouth staring at Zeke childishly. Not liking to be sniffed, his hand rubbed his ear obsessively.
You little git b’y, he wants ya dead the gruff voice snapped and Seth flinched. What should he do? Feeling uneasy, Seth grabbed his drink he started to like and drank. This guy must be a pirate…but he…
“Um…†Seth started nervously and had the strong urge to fight yet bolt simultaneously. Eyes were on him and Seth didn’t want to know how many were watching. Anger randomly flared up and dark fire lit his eyes but it was a flicker of a second. Seth couldn’t say the word ‘shit’ well and wasn’t sure if the guy was armed or not.
He be waitin’…waitin’ on the cow to comes home! Move ya fuckin ass. Now.
Seth didn’t know how to socially talk himself out of trouble and abruptly narrowed his eyes staring down Zeke and finally said, “Moo.â€
Seth thumbed his trusty cleaver and pulled it out, licking the dirty blade.
Oh for fuck’s sake…you gonna get dead. He’s no cow ya idiot! the voice screamed at him but Seth ignored it and waited…
"That doesn't look like a navigational symbol. That's a measure of weight. Shit..." Estella's first throw included no less than three "3"s along with a 2, a 5, and a 6. All told it was a fine start. Keeping the three "3"s, Estella followed this by throwing the remaining three dice, resulting in a 2 and a pair of 5s. "Anyway," continued the parson as Estella knocked out the "2" and prepared to re-roll the two fives. "I don't know what weight measures are doing on a chart...especially such a small measure as drams...but I doubt it has anything to do with navigation."
The next instant was a mixed one as Estella rerolled the two fives in hopes of lower values. The bones came up with two "1"s...a final score of Four, which was nearly unbeatable...but before she could feel any kind of delight, she witnessed the unusual, sea-tossed man at the bar pull a weapon on Zeke.
Elsewhere...
Estella wasn't the only one who noticed the sudden appearance of a cleaver (to say nothing of the tongue that touched it). Admittedly, the room was quite literally filled with murderers, psychopaths, killers, and social monsters...but five particular individuals took particular notice at another end of the room, all of whom rose up and moved toward the bar with deadly intent. Leading them was a massive, determined orc who didn't bother to draw the boarding axe tied to his belt. He probably wouldn't need it.
As far as the rest of the Scarlet Hydra, it wasn't too uncommon for one rover to attempt to kill another...but to do so in the middle of the tavern's busiest mark was something of a spectacle. The crowd quietened down noticeably as perhaps three hundred pairs of eyes turned upon the pair at the bar to watch (with no small amount of glee) what would come of the encounter. Behind the bar, Mary wasted no time trying to set things to right.
"Jack, you better put that fuckin' thing up right now or you'll be baitin' fish in the morningtide..." she hissed towards Seth.
The next instant was a mixed one as Estella rerolled the two fives in hopes of lower values. The bones came up with two "1"s...a final score of Four, which was nearly unbeatable...but before she could feel any kind of delight, she witnessed the unusual, sea-tossed man at the bar pull a weapon on Zeke.
Elsewhere...
Estella wasn't the only one who noticed the sudden appearance of a cleaver (to say nothing of the tongue that touched it). Admittedly, the room was quite literally filled with murderers, psychopaths, killers, and social monsters...but five particular individuals took particular notice at another end of the room, all of whom rose up and moved toward the bar with deadly intent. Leading them was a massive, determined orc who didn't bother to draw the boarding axe tied to his belt. He probably wouldn't need it.
As far as the rest of the Scarlet Hydra, it wasn't too uncommon for one rover to attempt to kill another...but to do so in the middle of the tavern's busiest mark was something of a spectacle. The crowd quietened down noticeably as perhaps three hundred pairs of eyes turned upon the pair at the bar to watch (with no small amount of glee) what would come of the encounter. Behind the bar, Mary wasted no time trying to set things to right.
"Jack, you better put that fuckin' thing up right now or you'll be baitin' fish in the morningtide..." she hissed towards Seth.
Maeve: It starts with ambition
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
-
Charlotte Estella Riddens
- Civus
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Mon Mar 10, 2008 10:09 pm
Weight measures on a navigational chart made no more sense to Estella than they did to the Parson. And drams, at that - such small units! It was hardly self-evident what kind of sea-found substance the measures were to refer to, and much less when the amounts were so tiny. I'd better scrutinize the chart itself later to see if there's any pattern to be found in where these weight symbols appear, Estella reasoned, though she far from considered the prospects of figuring anything out promising. If none of the men round her table had ever heard of this, and as none had been speaking up apart from Riley, she assumed they didn't, it hardly seemed likely that a fisher girl solve the puzzle.
Meanwhile, Estella's dice had fallen exceptionally well. Estella gave them an incredulous glance, rather more amused by the unlikely score than the money this score was likely to bring her. A situation, however, was building at the bar, and without further notice Estella found herself staring at two familiar faces.
It took a moment for Estella to realise the man potentially on the receiving end of the cleaver was the very same Ezekiel that she'd befriended earlier. It took her another moment to realise that the man with cleaver was the nervous new character that'd seated itself beside her at the bar only a short while ago. "That shady boy no doubt is out of control," she mumbled under her breath, not quite liking the proximity of that blade to Ezekiel, as all eyes of the common room were fixed on the couple in a short and vibrant moment awaiting the unfolding of events. For all his willing fighting, Ezekiel had come off to Estella as a sensible fellow, not one to provoke meaningless confrontations like this. He'd also come off an able pirate though, no doubt having survived far worse than a crazed misfit.
Meanwhile, Estella's dice had fallen exceptionally well. Estella gave them an incredulous glance, rather more amused by the unlikely score than the money this score was likely to bring her. A situation, however, was building at the bar, and without further notice Estella found herself staring at two familiar faces.
It took a moment for Estella to realise the man potentially on the receiving end of the cleaver was the very same Ezekiel that she'd befriended earlier. It took her another moment to realise that the man with cleaver was the nervous new character that'd seated itself beside her at the bar only a short while ago. "That shady boy no doubt is out of control," she mumbled under her breath, not quite liking the proximity of that blade to Ezekiel, as all eyes of the common room were fixed on the couple in a short and vibrant moment awaiting the unfolding of events. For all his willing fighting, Ezekiel had come off to Estella as a sensible fellow, not one to provoke meaningless confrontations like this. He'd also come off an able pirate though, no doubt having survived far worse than a crazed misfit.
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Ezekiel Lee
- Pirate
- Posts: 51
- Joined: Sun Mar 09, 2008 4:09 pm
- Location: King's Court
Zeke smiled thinly at Seth's reply, "Moo," certain now the man was mad, and wondering how best to extract himself from this ridiculous conversation. However, flickers later a cleaver was drawn, changing the situation from farcical to dangerous, and the Dortese pirate reacted much more decisively to this. Seth had barely begun to lick the filthy blade before Zeke was already reaching for the offensive wrist, intending to grab it and pull it and the blade forward, rendering both hand and cleaver useless (for the time being) - and then use this momentum to punch the nutcase in the face as hard as possible.
Ezekiel had always been rather good at fighting, and in his opinion the best way to win a fight was to end it very quickly. He was armed himself, of course, with a long sabre; but the thought of this blade didn't even cross his mind. This was just a bar fight. Who draws a real weapon in a bar fight...?
Ezekiel had always been rather good at fighting, and in his opinion the best way to win a fight was to end it very quickly. He was armed himself, of course, with a long sabre; but the thought of this blade didn't even cross his mind. This was just a bar fight. Who draws a real weapon in a bar fight...?
[size=92][i]I believe there's a storm a' brewin',
Nine crows at nine o'clock nigh.[/i][/size]
Nine crows at nine o'clock nigh.[/i][/size]