possibly-pirates-ooc-and-discussion-t4892.html ((that is the OOC thread. Absolutely no OOC in the IC thread, please.))
Possibly Pirates 2 (official title soon)
Early 1700's, England. Two years ago, an odd group of sailors made their way from Tortuga, to Port Royal, to Barbados, and even eventually to the Seven Cities of Gold. They found an indescribable treasure, and became indescribably rich. At least, most of them did.
But now, a new adventure starts. It begins with a rescue...or at least the attempt at one. Where it goes from there, only the good Laird and his high angels know.
Possibly Pirates 2: Curse of the Raksasha
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Possibly Pirates 2: Curse of the Raksasha ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Thu Mar 27, 2008 8:52 am
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Jadeling Hawkins - Global Moderator
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Thu Mar 27, 2008 8:53 am
My dearest James,
Thus had dozens of letters started, then continued on with as much as could be written on a page or two. Sometimes more. Filled with all sorts of things that were meant for only 'dearest James' to read, but surely were slipped into and read by various bored prison guards that were supposed to pass the letters along to their intended receiver. But every letter started and ended the same.
My dearest Jame,
etc. etc. etc.
All my love,
Richelle
Each was written in a legible scrawl, with curves on letters that were meant to have them and every i and t cross or dotted appropriately. They came about once every two weeks, always on the same day. For about two years. Once or twice, the faithful chain was disrupted, but aside from these very rare occurrences, the letters came. But there had been nothing for the two months leading up to this day. And this was a very unique day indeed. For today, the king of England was to view a hanging.
Two years previous, almost to the day, James Thomas McLeod had been placed under arrest for his crimes against the crown. And this directly after discovering the Seven Cities of gold. When he by all rights should have been whittling away at his new found wealth, Lucky James was locked up and put on trial for his crimes against His Majesty. And now, after a lengthy process of law, his sentence was to be carried out. All of the king's favorite nobles had come to watch and applaud the removal of the villain from the world. In the middle of a spacious courtyard stood a lone scaffold, the twined rope dangling in the air in a most sinister manner. Standing on the finely crafted platform where the condemned would take his last view of the world was the dark hooded hangman. He was well built, clearly not the sort of being that any would be eager to meet in a dark alley.
Around the scaffold was a wide collection of nobility. Men with powdered wigs and gold lined apparel, their faces either carefully and cleanly shaven or sporting great curling beards. Each of their noses were upturned, as though they had transformed to such a state after years of practiced sneering. There were a few women present as well, with large skirts that took up about seventy five percent of their body mass. Their hair was piled up high on the tops of their heads, and they fanned their ivory skin with ornate folded papers and lace. Frail hands clutched at the corsets that pinched their waists, and a few of them giggled together at the bit of excitement they were being treated with this day.
Within the crowd, however, were a few oddities. A couple of the noble men were shorter than the rest, and with a peculiar curvature about their frames. One in particular had green eyes that looked as though they were meant to be glittering, but at the moment were hard and focused. The nobleman's white curls flowed about his small form, with a matching powdery beard falling nearly to his waist. When it was announced that the condemned was to be brought out, this nobleman looked up quickly, then back towards the hangman. His remarkably small and smooth, tan hand (bedecked with a single odd gold ring which sported what appeared to be a picture of a cat) clutched at the top of his ornate staff in a flood of nerves as the crowd parted to allow the guards through with the captured pirate. Looking away from the hangman and being careful not to look at the man to be hung, the nobleman glanced and nodded at a fellow nobleman, who was equally unusual in size and shape. Then, green eyes shifting once more, the noble shot a piercing stare at the shaded box that was held a story above the crowd of execution-goers. There, hidden away from reach and sight, was the figure of His Royal Highness. It might have been unusual for one of His Highness' loyal subjects to be shooting such a look in his direction...but before anyone could notice, the green eyed man looked away again, focusing once more on the scaffold.
The guards strode forward through the space in the crowd, guiding a man with dirty blond hair towards his fate.
Thus had dozens of letters started, then continued on with as much as could be written on a page or two. Sometimes more. Filled with all sorts of things that were meant for only 'dearest James' to read, but surely were slipped into and read by various bored prison guards that were supposed to pass the letters along to their intended receiver. But every letter started and ended the same.
My dearest Jame,
etc. etc. etc.
All my love,
Richelle
Each was written in a legible scrawl, with curves on letters that were meant to have them and every i and t cross or dotted appropriately. They came about once every two weeks, always on the same day. For about two years. Once or twice, the faithful chain was disrupted, but aside from these very rare occurrences, the letters came. But there had been nothing for the two months leading up to this day. And this was a very unique day indeed. For today, the king of England was to view a hanging.
Two years previous, almost to the day, James Thomas McLeod had been placed under arrest for his crimes against the crown. And this directly after discovering the Seven Cities of gold. When he by all rights should have been whittling away at his new found wealth, Lucky James was locked up and put on trial for his crimes against His Majesty. And now, after a lengthy process of law, his sentence was to be carried out. All of the king's favorite nobles had come to watch and applaud the removal of the villain from the world. In the middle of a spacious courtyard stood a lone scaffold, the twined rope dangling in the air in a most sinister manner. Standing on the finely crafted platform where the condemned would take his last view of the world was the dark hooded hangman. He was well built, clearly not the sort of being that any would be eager to meet in a dark alley.
Around the scaffold was a wide collection of nobility. Men with powdered wigs and gold lined apparel, their faces either carefully and cleanly shaven or sporting great curling beards. Each of their noses were upturned, as though they had transformed to such a state after years of practiced sneering. There were a few women present as well, with large skirts that took up about seventy five percent of their body mass. Their hair was piled up high on the tops of their heads, and they fanned their ivory skin with ornate folded papers and lace. Frail hands clutched at the corsets that pinched their waists, and a few of them giggled together at the bit of excitement they were being treated with this day.
Within the crowd, however, were a few oddities. A couple of the noble men were shorter than the rest, and with a peculiar curvature about their frames. One in particular had green eyes that looked as though they were meant to be glittering, but at the moment were hard and focused. The nobleman's white curls flowed about his small form, with a matching powdery beard falling nearly to his waist. When it was announced that the condemned was to be brought out, this nobleman looked up quickly, then back towards the hangman. His remarkably small and smooth, tan hand (bedecked with a single odd gold ring which sported what appeared to be a picture of a cat) clutched at the top of his ornate staff in a flood of nerves as the crowd parted to allow the guards through with the captured pirate. Looking away from the hangman and being careful not to look at the man to be hung, the nobleman glanced and nodded at a fellow nobleman, who was equally unusual in size and shape. Then, green eyes shifting once more, the noble shot a piercing stare at the shaded box that was held a story above the crowd of execution-goers. There, hidden away from reach and sight, was the figure of His Royal Highness. It might have been unusual for one of His Highness' loyal subjects to be shooting such a look in his direction...but before anyone could notice, the green eyed man looked away again, focusing once more on the scaffold.
The guards strode forward through the space in the crowd, guiding a man with dirty blond hair towards his fate.
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Jadeling Hawkins - Global Moderator
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Skallagrim on Thu Mar 27, 2008 9:06 am
James walked slowly behind th guards, a slow measured pace. The walk of a dead man. James sneered at those who looked upon him with mock pity. The sight of the scaffold filled the air as it came into frightful focus. Pausing a moment James blinked, the actual terminus of his life was at hand.
Lowering his head a moment James' mind found the familiar face, the green eyes, the joyous voice that filled his dreams. RIchelle, as always was with him, even now when James could have raised a fist and cursed those that surrounded him, he thought of his bonny poppet.
The letters, so many letters, filled his thoughts, the words flowed and surrounded him. James had read and reread each letter to the point he could recite them, all of them. Pausing again, James heard some of the nobles remark about the "scruffy lad" and "He's the one? Impossible!"
Turning his attention to the nobles that spoke, "Indeed it be me lad, in all me glory. Take a look at what yer king fears..." James started laughing, the sound carrying and echoing around the courtyard. The guard behind him shoved him forward, relentlessly onward towards the gallows.
Exhaling, James stood straighter, he would die this die, but the greatest treasure he found would not be taken from him by the King, nor the nobles that crowded the courtyard eagerly to see the Pirate dance a jig for their pleasure.
Lowering his head a moment James' mind found the familiar face, the green eyes, the joyous voice that filled his dreams. RIchelle, as always was with him, even now when James could have raised a fist and cursed those that surrounded him, he thought of his bonny poppet.
The letters, so many letters, filled his thoughts, the words flowed and surrounded him. James had read and reread each letter to the point he could recite them, all of them. Pausing again, James heard some of the nobles remark about the "scruffy lad" and "He's the one? Impossible!"
Turning his attention to the nobles that spoke, "Indeed it be me lad, in all me glory. Take a look at what yer king fears..." James started laughing, the sound carrying and echoing around the courtyard. The guard behind him shoved him forward, relentlessly onward towards the gallows.
Exhaling, James stood straighter, he would die this die, but the greatest treasure he found would not be taken from him by the King, nor the nobles that crowded the courtyard eagerly to see the Pirate dance a jig for their pleasure.
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Skallagrim - Global Moderator
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Irish Wolf on Thu Mar 27, 2008 9:47 am
The hangman stood up on the scaffolding, the heat of the summer sun beating down on his black hood and robes. Little beads of salty sweat rolled down his face and neck. The hangman was taller then most, standing a little over six feet tall. Like all hangman before him, he wore a long baggy robe to hid his true body shape and a hood to hid his face. If you looked closely, the left eye was nothing but blackness and the right was a stunning green. On his left side was the lever that would drop the condemned man to his death, be it a quick snap of the neck or a long strangulation. His hands slowly clenched and unclenched.
Deep in the jail, a man was bound and gagged in a cell with no windows, not in the walls or in the door. Food was shoved through a hole cut in the bottom of the door. His head hung limp on his shoulder and his breathing was soft. A large goose egg was aching on the back of his head. The last thing this man had seen was the notorious face of a Irishman with a huge bounty on his head.
Deep in the jail, a man was bound and gagged in a cell with no windows, not in the walls or in the door. Food was shoved through a hole cut in the bottom of the door. His head hung limp on his shoulder and his breathing was soft. A large goose egg was aching on the back of his head. The last thing this man had seen was the notorious face of a Irishman with a huge bounty on his head.
Cacoethes Scribendi (Cursed to write)
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by NewArthur on Thu Mar 27, 2008 9:59 am
A man began to push himself through the crowds as the prison was brought out, onto the deck, his skin tanned, and his clothes dirty and sandy. The man walked with a slight limp, from under the dark brown cloak a wooden leg could be seen.
The man moved closer his steps became more rapid as the prisoner got closer to the noose. He moved his hand into the cloak and drew a knife but kept it concealed in his sleeve, ready to drop when needed. The man stopped and dropped his hood revealing a very scared and bruised face, Looking down he saw a boy looking up at him, and the man gave a tongueless smile, with which sent the boy scurrying.
Markus Kuthen had returned to Europe, and he had come to cause some trouble...
The man moved closer his steps became more rapid as the prisoner got closer to the noose. He moved his hand into the cloak and drew a knife but kept it concealed in his sleeve, ready to drop when needed. The man stopped and dropped his hood revealing a very scared and bruised face, Looking down he saw a boy looking up at him, and the man gave a tongueless smile, with which sent the boy scurrying.
Markus Kuthen had returned to Europe, and he had come to cause some trouble...
Police cordoned off Liverpool City Centre this morning when a
suspicious object was discovered in a car. It later turned
out to be a tax disc.
suspicious object was discovered in a car. It later turned
out to be a tax disc.
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Drako11 on Thu Mar 27, 2008 11:15 am
A cloaked figure paced back and forth outside the large crows assembled for the hanging ofr the famed "Lucky" James Mcleod. Only the tail end of a thick brown beard could be seen from the hood on the figures face. The pommel of a officer's saber close at hand. What went unnoticed was an odd assembly of barrels, rope, and a large wagon. To the average passerby the mass of stuff was just that, an ordinary pile of junk. It was really however a trap. The figure sighed and watched as James was brought out, then once again began pacing.
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Skallagrim on Thu Mar 27, 2008 1:15 pm
James trudged forward, every step closer to the gallows. As his eyes scanned the crowd, he found a familiar face, Abercrombie stood resplendent in his commodores uniform, the powdered wig framing his face. A slight sneer crossed Abercrombie’s lips as they made eye contact.
Stopping a moment James eyed his older brother, narrow his brows he bowed, as far as he knew from Richelle’s letters Abercrombie had indeed kept his word and allowed the crew of the Fledgling to leave unmolested from Port Royal.
Startled by the gesture Abercrombie turned to his companions, a boisterous laugh erupted from all of them. Squaring his shoulders James continued his march, as he reached the scaffold steps he looked up at the massive executioner, and his green eyes followed the lines of the frame work until they zeroed in on the noose. Licking his lips he listened as the crier read the charges against him.
After a long moment the crier finished and turned to the executioner, “Hang this criminal to the King and the empire by his neck until dead.” Again James felt a sharp jab in his back as the guards urged him to climb the long steps.
Each footfall on the steps seemed to echo, the courtyard was silent. The wind blew and whirled, the sun beat down. Each step a solitary sound, each step closer to the final voyage.
As James reached the platform he turned and faced the executioner, nodding slightly, “Be gentle mate, and make sure I’ve enough rope ta do the dance they’ve come ta see.” James said softly. Licking his lips he looked out across the courtyard, a grin flashed across his lips as he stared at the assembled nobles.
Stopping a moment James eyed his older brother, narrow his brows he bowed, as far as he knew from Richelle’s letters Abercrombie had indeed kept his word and allowed the crew of the Fledgling to leave unmolested from Port Royal.
Startled by the gesture Abercrombie turned to his companions, a boisterous laugh erupted from all of them. Squaring his shoulders James continued his march, as he reached the scaffold steps he looked up at the massive executioner, and his green eyes followed the lines of the frame work until they zeroed in on the noose. Licking his lips he listened as the crier read the charges against him.
After a long moment the crier finished and turned to the executioner, “Hang this criminal to the King and the empire by his neck until dead.” Again James felt a sharp jab in his back as the guards urged him to climb the long steps.
Each footfall on the steps seemed to echo, the courtyard was silent. The wind blew and whirled, the sun beat down. Each step a solitary sound, each step closer to the final voyage.
As James reached the platform he turned and faced the executioner, nodding slightly, “Be gentle mate, and make sure I’ve enough rope ta do the dance they’ve come ta see.” James said softly. Licking his lips he looked out across the courtyard, a grin flashed across his lips as he stared at the assembled nobles.
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Skallagrim - Global Moderator
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by ConvolutedMusings on Thu Mar 27, 2008 1:46 pm
Elkab. The word stood out from the page as a beacon on rocky shores, beautiful, seductive, tempting, inviting.
A single finger rested upon the corner of what was clearly a very old book, the pages tinted yellow, not solely by the light of candles in the Captain's quarters, casting a dim, quivering light throughout the spacious room. As shadows danced against the walls, giving the impression of great movement, it was a gentle and warm breeze that swept through the room, and the reason that a finger rested upon the worn corner of the book.
The sea, in all its powerful glory was calm as a deep inland lake, barely even perpetuating its gentle, eternal pulse. There was a slight movement to the ship, a back and forth momentum, so minimal in fact that it was possible the anchor was not even needed. Night always fell early in these parts, and twilight was near non-existent, but the Captain had caught the candles early, and had not needed to move since he placed a glass of white rum at his desk.
Not that the glass was anything other than full, of course. Such words of legend and grandeur carried such entice that no man would be able to resist losing himself within the dreams hidden there.
A millennium. One thousands years. Once it would appear. Once would the gates open. Once would the riches be given. Rising forth from the deepest blacks of the hidden world beneath the sea would the city bring treasure beyond imagination. Only generations blessed would even have the scant chance of finding Elkab, but all such things carried danger.
The finger lifted slightly, gentle and precise in its movements, the breeze sending the page over itself, allowing the reader to continue reading this legend.
Of course, fiction was always good entertainment. Surely a Captain of so great a vessel would see it as only such?
A single finger rested upon the corner of what was clearly a very old book, the pages tinted yellow, not solely by the light of candles in the Captain's quarters, casting a dim, quivering light throughout the spacious room. As shadows danced against the walls, giving the impression of great movement, it was a gentle and warm breeze that swept through the room, and the reason that a finger rested upon the worn corner of the book.
The sea, in all its powerful glory was calm as a deep inland lake, barely even perpetuating its gentle, eternal pulse. There was a slight movement to the ship, a back and forth momentum, so minimal in fact that it was possible the anchor was not even needed. Night always fell early in these parts, and twilight was near non-existent, but the Captain had caught the candles early, and had not needed to move since he placed a glass of white rum at his desk.
Not that the glass was anything other than full, of course. Such words of legend and grandeur carried such entice that no man would be able to resist losing himself within the dreams hidden there.
A millennium. One thousands years. Once it would appear. Once would the gates open. Once would the riches be given. Rising forth from the deepest blacks of the hidden world beneath the sea would the city bring treasure beyond imagination. Only generations blessed would even have the scant chance of finding Elkab, but all such things carried danger.
The finger lifted slightly, gentle and precise in its movements, the breeze sending the page over itself, allowing the reader to continue reading this legend.
Of course, fiction was always good entertainment. Surely a Captain of so great a vessel would see it as only such?
Please tell me now what life is, Please tell me now what love is... Again, tell me what life is.
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Thu Mar 27, 2008 1:57 pm
The nobleman with the green eyes stared at the condemned Lucky James as he stepped up to his death. The heart beneath the fancy noble clothes fluttered at the sight of the man, the green eyes lit up for a moment. Beneath the curling beard, smooth cheeks delved into a soft shade of pink. All manner of reactions that may have seemed odd, considering the situation. But they were stifled by their owner mere seconds after they manifested themselves. The green eyes of the nobleman traveled along each of the significant players...the accused, his accuser, his capturer, the hangman, a few other nobles...and returned to linger on the face of the pirate, drinking in the handsome features until the moment they were hidden from view by a dark cloth. A covering of the face, so the poor rich execution watchers wouldn't have to see any pain in the eyes or twisting of the lips as their show went on.
And the second the mask was placed of James' face, the noble with the green eyes lifted his staff, just an inch or two from the ground...and clacked it back down, three time.
Now.
And the second the mask was placed of James' face, the noble with the green eyes lifted his staff, just an inch or two from the ground...and clacked it back down, three time.
Now.
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Jadeling Hawkins - Global Moderator
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by tigerz-peace on Thu Mar 27, 2008 2:08 pm
The heat pressed down upon the nobleman that shared the fleeting, trecherous look with his companion. Sweat beaded beneath his oversized wig, itching, and it took most of his self will to not discard of the pompous attire. Slate grey eyes, somehow encased in makeup to look less feminime, stared out at the lad that was brought, step by step, to his fate.
Left foot steps.
Right foot steps.
Left foot steps.
Laughter barks.
The swinging of the rope in the wind caught his eyes, and he turned his head the slightest and stared at them, suppressing a shudder. 'Lucky James Mcleoud, being escorted to his death. The nobleman muttered beneath his breath, too quiet for even he himself to hear.
"Pray the good Laird saves the lad this day, for her sake if not for his and everyone elses."
The stomps of the feet echoed louder then they should have in the nobelmans ears, and he shared another swift, determined glance with his companion.
The tensing of the noblemans body went unnoticed as the cry was made for the hanging to begin, and his hand clenched, his other hiding it.
The staff rised once, and came down.
Clack.
It rose again.
Clack.
One last time, it rose.
Clack.
It had begun.
Left foot steps.
Right foot steps.
Left foot steps.
Laughter barks.
The swinging of the rope in the wind caught his eyes, and he turned his head the slightest and stared at them, suppressing a shudder. 'Lucky James Mcleoud, being escorted to his death. The nobleman muttered beneath his breath, too quiet for even he himself to hear.
"Pray the good Laird saves the lad this day, for her sake if not for his and everyone elses."
The stomps of the feet echoed louder then they should have in the nobelmans ears, and he shared another swift, determined glance with his companion.
The tensing of the noblemans body went unnoticed as the cry was made for the hanging to begin, and his hand clenched, his other hiding it.
The staff rised once, and came down.
Clack.
It rose again.
Clack.
One last time, it rose.
Clack.
It had begun.
There's Something About...
Tamara Hale... And It Reeks Of
Revenge
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Irish Wolf on Thu Mar 27, 2008 5:50 pm
The hangman said no words as he placed a hood over James’s head. He didn’t want to give his voice away. He moved slowly back to the lever to drop James to his death. A slight cracking in a pattern from somewhere out in the crowd was heard. His big hands clenched and unclenched again. That one green eye looked over the crowd, as the right hand reached for the lever. It went right to a prearranged place and a grin spread under the black hood.
His left hand shot up and grabbed the right side of the black robe. He wrenched it back and the baggy black robe ripped apart. A man dressed in green pants and a green infantry coat stood there. A basket-hilted claymore hung off an orange sash and three pistol butts were stick out around his waist. The hangman drew the claymore with his right hand and pulled off the hood with his left. Dark red hair pulled back in a braid framed the face and his left eye had a thick leather patch over it.
The guards and nobles stood dumb struck as the most wanted man in the British Isles appeared on the scaffolding next to Lucky James Thomas McLeod, Raff Kelly, a hated Irish rebel who was supposed to be dead. The guard on the scaffolding woke first as Raff swung his claymore over James’s head and severed the hanging rope. The blade sank deep into the oak of the scaffolding with a loud thunk. He then ripped the hood off James’s head as the guard charged up the stairs.
“Its your lucky day James” said Raff softly, kicking the lever. James drooped to the square below, a coil of spare rope right under him. Raff then yanked the claymore from the beam and in doing so smacked the first guard coming up the stairs with the flat of the blade. The guard fell back and crashed into the rest of the red-coated men storming up the stairs.
“I AM RAFF KELLY” shouted Raff, “AND I LIVE!” The sounds of musket shot filled the air and Raff jumped towards the crowd. Hot lead bullets smashed into the wood where Raff had been and he crashed into stumbling redcoats, swinging the claymore.
His left hand shot up and grabbed the right side of the black robe. He wrenched it back and the baggy black robe ripped apart. A man dressed in green pants and a green infantry coat stood there. A basket-hilted claymore hung off an orange sash and three pistol butts were stick out around his waist. The hangman drew the claymore with his right hand and pulled off the hood with his left. Dark red hair pulled back in a braid framed the face and his left eye had a thick leather patch over it.
The guards and nobles stood dumb struck as the most wanted man in the British Isles appeared on the scaffolding next to Lucky James Thomas McLeod, Raff Kelly, a hated Irish rebel who was supposed to be dead. The guard on the scaffolding woke first as Raff swung his claymore over James’s head and severed the hanging rope. The blade sank deep into the oak of the scaffolding with a loud thunk. He then ripped the hood off James’s head as the guard charged up the stairs.
“Its your lucky day James” said Raff softly, kicking the lever. James drooped to the square below, a coil of spare rope right under him. Raff then yanked the claymore from the beam and in doing so smacked the first guard coming up the stairs with the flat of the blade. The guard fell back and crashed into the rest of the red-coated men storming up the stairs.
“I AM RAFF KELLY” shouted Raff, “AND I LIVE!” The sounds of musket shot filled the air and Raff jumped towards the crowd. Hot lead bullets smashed into the wood where Raff had been and he crashed into stumbling redcoats, swinging the claymore.
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Angel_Melfina on Thu Mar 27, 2008 6:40 pm
The sea beheld calm waters today, splashing only toddler waves against the hard wooden ties barricading the land. The sun was still high, but darkness was not far away. The docks were quiet at the moment; most of the people in town were at the gallows, stupidly watching the hanging of some highly-regarded pirate, if one might consider them highly regarded at all. Several boats were tied up along the stretches of wooden planks, bobbing on the gentle bumps of the ocean. Scores of the cabin windows flickered with candlelight, no doubt accompanying those crew members that were as sickened with the town spectacle as she was.
The gallows in the distance were oddly silent. Perhaps the criminal was still on his death march, taking each step as slowly as possible to delay the inevitable chapter of his life that would be death. Several hours before, nobles had begun lining up to take their place around centre stage as if they were peasants fighting in a line to get food. They were all the same, and no one would remember the event in a week.
Finally, gunshots erupted from the crowd in the distance. There was no question that something had gone wrong with the hanging.
Rumors about the arrested pirate might be true after all.
The gallows in the distance were oddly silent. Perhaps the criminal was still on his death march, taking each step as slowly as possible to delay the inevitable chapter of his life that would be death. Several hours before, nobles had begun lining up to take their place around centre stage as if they were peasants fighting in a line to get food. They were all the same, and no one would remember the event in a week.
Finally, gunshots erupted from the crowd in the distance. There was no question that something had gone wrong with the hanging.
Rumors about the arrested pirate might be true after all.
Today, Friday, October 10, 2009, is my last day on RolePlayGateway.com.
Everyone give me lots of love, because I shall be handing lots out. <3
Everyone give me lots of love, because I shall be handing lots out. <3
-
Angel_Melfina - GWC Veteran
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Vexar on Thu Mar 27, 2008 7:15 pm
Salty air hovered in front of him. A slow breath in sucked the ocean air into his lungs. He didn't seem to be in full attire. Strife hung from a lantern post. His eyes narrowed toward the gallows. The last day of the great "Lucky James" was upon him. This was the closest he could get. He clung to the post, wooden splinters pressing into his skin.
Shivers slipped across his skin. The legend himself stood upon the gallows. Strife felt the air spike with electricity. A short moment began to pass. His heart pumped his blood as it had never done before. His fingertips pulsed, he wanted to save the legend. There was no way for him to get through.
A commotion was caused by the hangman. Something wasn't right. Strife's heart skipped, smacking against his ribcage before he could make sense of things. Dark red spilled from the outfit as the man's outfit whipped off of him. Strife had thought, 'Blood'. He had been wrong, the braid fell to the man's back. He announced himself as a dead Irishman. The name rang a bell. With the commotion that was unfolding now, Strife couldn't quite remember. A fight broke out.
Strife mustered all of his strength. He gripped the rough wood of the lantern post. He pulled himself higher. It proved no use. He heard metal and wood clunk together. Guards tumbled over each other, pigs searching for their mother. The claymore wielding Irishman hopped off of the grand stage. He narrowly avoided a shot from a musket, splintering wood behind him.
Where had James gone? It was the first thing in Strifes head. He saw him there, he must have dropped. Strife gave up on watching the Irishman. His heart raced faster. He jumped off of the post. His patch was next to two rapiers at the base of the lantern. No one had cared to notice them, nor the hat posted on top of them. He donned his typical attire, then raced towards the action.
He knew this city. He was a stow away, a street thief, and a practicing pirate. He had been from island to island on other peoples ships; always returned back here. He had never gone back home. He smirked as he ran. The heavy humidity of the ocean air filled his lungs, he was used to it. He breathed deeper and harder, pushing the idiots of the crowed out of his way. He knew, if they were as smart as they are made out to be, they'd be heading outwards. He backtracked a bit. Strife had to catch up, he had to follow. THERE! He thought he saw a glimpse of Lucky James. He stomped his feet faster into the ground below. Rubble and dirt ground further into the cobblestone street.
His skin grew cold as the air rushed against the sweat. His heart pounded through his chest. His lungs burned. This was the excitement he had been looking for. This was how he loved to live.
Shivers slipped across his skin. The legend himself stood upon the gallows. Strife felt the air spike with electricity. A short moment began to pass. His heart pumped his blood as it had never done before. His fingertips pulsed, he wanted to save the legend. There was no way for him to get through.
A commotion was caused by the hangman. Something wasn't right. Strife's heart skipped, smacking against his ribcage before he could make sense of things. Dark red spilled from the outfit as the man's outfit whipped off of him. Strife had thought, 'Blood'. He had been wrong, the braid fell to the man's back. He announced himself as a dead Irishman. The name rang a bell. With the commotion that was unfolding now, Strife couldn't quite remember. A fight broke out.
Strife mustered all of his strength. He gripped the rough wood of the lantern post. He pulled himself higher. It proved no use. He heard metal and wood clunk together. Guards tumbled over each other, pigs searching for their mother. The claymore wielding Irishman hopped off of the grand stage. He narrowly avoided a shot from a musket, splintering wood behind him.
Where had James gone? It was the first thing in Strifes head. He saw him there, he must have dropped. Strife gave up on watching the Irishman. His heart raced faster. He jumped off of the post. His patch was next to two rapiers at the base of the lantern. No one had cared to notice them, nor the hat posted on top of them. He donned his typical attire, then raced towards the action.
He knew this city. He was a stow away, a street thief, and a practicing pirate. He had been from island to island on other peoples ships; always returned back here. He had never gone back home. He smirked as he ran. The heavy humidity of the ocean air filled his lungs, he was used to it. He breathed deeper and harder, pushing the idiots of the crowed out of his way. He knew, if they were as smart as they are made out to be, they'd be heading outwards. He backtracked a bit. Strife had to catch up, he had to follow. THERE! He thought he saw a glimpse of Lucky James. He stomped his feet faster into the ground below. Rubble and dirt ground further into the cobblestone street.
His skin grew cold as the air rushed against the sweat. His heart pounded through his chest. His lungs burned. This was the excitement he had been looking for. This was how he loved to live.
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Vexar - Global Moderator
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Thu Mar 27, 2008 7:52 pm
The nobleman with the green eyes and the great curling beard raced forward towards the scaffold, pushing easily through the shrieking nobles. He ducked under the platform, grabbing one of Lucky Jimmy's arm and, with the aid of one of the other nobles that had rushed forward, hauled him to his feet. James was dragged up and out from under the roaring dead Irishman, without a word from either of the two clutching his arms. The one that had reached him first drew his blade, tossing an expert swipe at the crowd to get them to part.
If the king had invited a group of loyal, brave men, then the kidnapping of the condemned would have failed by now. But as it was, the nobles present were fearful for their own lives, and the second a blade was drawn there was a great shrieking and the powdered, pampered creatures pulled as far away as possible. James was then led (dragged, really) through the pathway and towards one of the open air halls with the marvelous views of the sea. Here, the two nobles that had grabbed him up parted ways, the green eyed one turning back to assist Raff Kelly with his own escape from the clutches of the red coats. It had been previously decided, in some dark and secret room, that the nobleman with the slate gray eyes, by far the stronger swordsman, would be entrusted with seeing James to his awaiting transportation. The weaker (but by no means weak) swordsman would go along with the Rough Irishman. In this way, it was far more likely that all involved would escape with their lives.
And most importantly, James would.
Stealing a last healthy look back at the green eyes and so nearly hung face of James McLeod, the nobleman sprinted over with sword still drawn and sliced a guard across the length of his red coat. The guard hissed in pain and dropped beneath the feet of the squalling nobility, and the as of yet silent man with the green eyes took up his staff and cracked it across the skull of another.
"Raff, we'd best be moving along now!" The nobleman spoke for the first time, his voice low and with a forced gravel to it. But even with the great effort put into masculinifying the voice, it still held a sweetness to it that suggested something...off about the nobleman. "Give the blighters long enough an' they'll double in number, eh?"
If the king had invited a group of loyal, brave men, then the kidnapping of the condemned would have failed by now. But as it was, the nobles present were fearful for their own lives, and the second a blade was drawn there was a great shrieking and the powdered, pampered creatures pulled as far away as possible. James was then led (dragged, really) through the pathway and towards one of the open air halls with the marvelous views of the sea. Here, the two nobles that had grabbed him up parted ways, the green eyed one turning back to assist Raff Kelly with his own escape from the clutches of the red coats. It had been previously decided, in some dark and secret room, that the nobleman with the slate gray eyes, by far the stronger swordsman, would be entrusted with seeing James to his awaiting transportation. The weaker (but by no means weak) swordsman would go along with the Rough Irishman. In this way, it was far more likely that all involved would escape with their lives.
And most importantly, James would.
Stealing a last healthy look back at the green eyes and so nearly hung face of James McLeod, the nobleman sprinted over with sword still drawn and sliced a guard across the length of his red coat. The guard hissed in pain and dropped beneath the feet of the squalling nobility, and the as of yet silent man with the green eyes took up his staff and cracked it across the skull of another.
"Raff, we'd best be moving along now!" The nobleman spoke for the first time, his voice low and with a forced gravel to it. But even with the great effort put into masculinifying the voice, it still held a sweetness to it that suggested something...off about the nobleman. "Give the blighters long enough an' they'll double in number, eh?"
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Jadeling Hawkins - Global Moderator
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Drako11 on Thu Mar 27, 2008 8:03 pm
A cloak slowly floated to the ground, it's inhabitant moving swiftly in the opposite direction. The man was Caesar Grent, warrior, and friend of 'Rough' Raff Kelly. Caesar although not as well known as Raff was still a convict, wanted dead or alive, reward one thousand pounds, a high price for these days. Caesar carried a saber from his days in the royal navy, after being shunted out for supposedly carrying illegal goods heh ad joined the crew of the Fledgling. After a series of amazing adventures ending with the Lost City of Gold, Caesar had gone with Raff to help with the Irishman's rebellion, mostly because Raff had saved Caesar's life...twice.
Caesar now wore a thick grey shirt, knee high riding boots, and a pair of tan colored pants tucked into his boots. All these he had picked up during the brief campaign in Ireland, as well as a beret like hat on his head. Caesar also now sported longer hair, and a thick brown beard both part of a disguise to prevent recognition by hangmen. Caesar had returned from Ireland with Raff after the gunner's injury, when they had returned they had learned of James' execution and joined back with their old crew to save him.
Quickly Caesar made his way to the wagon he had set up earlier, on the wagon barrels were stacked, many ropes leading from the mass. Caesar waited in anticipation for his friends to ecape so he could spring the trap slowing the guards for their escape.
Caesar now wore a thick grey shirt, knee high riding boots, and a pair of tan colored pants tucked into his boots. All these he had picked up during the brief campaign in Ireland, as well as a beret like hat on his head. Caesar also now sported longer hair, and a thick brown beard both part of a disguise to prevent recognition by hangmen. Caesar had returned from Ireland with Raff after the gunner's injury, when they had returned they had learned of James' execution and joined back with their old crew to save him.
Quickly Caesar made his way to the wagon he had set up earlier, on the wagon barrels were stacked, many ropes leading from the mass. Caesar waited in anticipation for his friends to ecape so he could spring the trap slowing the guards for their escape.
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Skallagrim on Thu Mar 27, 2008 9:18 pm
James sighed and waited for the inevitable end, a short drop, a pull and a painful death. Only it didn’t happen, there occurred a loud “Thunk.” Then gasps of shock…James stared at the black before his eyes as a dim light oozed through the dark hood. Then suddenly the hood was ripped off and in the dazzling bright of the sun lit world again James blinked several times. The brogue of a certain burly Irishman filled his ears, and then before James could say anything he was falling though the trap below his feet.
The last thing he heard was Raff shouting to the assembled nobles, “Aye lad ye live, and fer that I owe me own life.” James murmured as he suddenly jerked forward and pulled out by the hands of two cloaked nobles.
A flash of steel and the crowd parted as the smaller of the cloaked men drew a blade, causing the mewling hanger-ons and weak-minded men who had no taste for adventure parted amid shrieks and cries. As the crowd parted James spotted the sea, a smirk crossed his lips as he saw the horrified face of a noble man. Pampered and weak, powdered wig and floured face. Standing in his fancy clothes, James laughed as a wet spot blossomed on the man’s breeches.
“Ah me lads, yer surely bold adventures all, and no mistake I be delighted at yer saving me scuttle. But…argh…by me reckoning, we’ve a city betwixt us and yon beautiful sea.” James called out to be heard above the shrieks and musket fire that sudden filled the air.
Suddenly, silently the two men parted, the taller of the two dragged James one way, the other turned back to assist the giant Irishman who was, as James noted, laying waste to the red coats that had surrounded him.
Grinning again, “Certes the poor lads trying to stop ole Raff are regretting that choice.” James said as he caught the eye briefly of the smaller nobleman. Frowning James paused, only to be dragged along. Craning his neck James tried to see the form that darted back into the fray.
Turning an eye towards the silent rescuer that guided him expertly through the maze of people toward some destination only known to the man leading him, James stepped lively, and asked quickly, “By the holy eternal lad…as sure as the Laird sees me, Richelle is here isn’t she!” His heart beat faster in his chest as a huge grin broke across his face; a deep laughter erupted from his lips.
Pausing once more briefly James spotted his brother and his men, they were trying to get to the scaffold, shouting out loudly, so that his voice carried to his brothers ears, “’Twas a pleasure seeing you again dear brother…” James started laughing as he hunched and allowed himself to be led away from the chaos in the square.
The last thing he heard was Raff shouting to the assembled nobles, “Aye lad ye live, and fer that I owe me own life.” James murmured as he suddenly jerked forward and pulled out by the hands of two cloaked nobles.
A flash of steel and the crowd parted as the smaller of the cloaked men drew a blade, causing the mewling hanger-ons and weak-minded men who had no taste for adventure parted amid shrieks and cries. As the crowd parted James spotted the sea, a smirk crossed his lips as he saw the horrified face of a noble man. Pampered and weak, powdered wig and floured face. Standing in his fancy clothes, James laughed as a wet spot blossomed on the man’s breeches.
“Ah me lads, yer surely bold adventures all, and no mistake I be delighted at yer saving me scuttle. But…argh…by me reckoning, we’ve a city betwixt us and yon beautiful sea.” James called out to be heard above the shrieks and musket fire that sudden filled the air.
Suddenly, silently the two men parted, the taller of the two dragged James one way, the other turned back to assist the giant Irishman who was, as James noted, laying waste to the red coats that had surrounded him.
Grinning again, “Certes the poor lads trying to stop ole Raff are regretting that choice.” James said as he caught the eye briefly of the smaller nobleman. Frowning James paused, only to be dragged along. Craning his neck James tried to see the form that darted back into the fray.
Turning an eye towards the silent rescuer that guided him expertly through the maze of people toward some destination only known to the man leading him, James stepped lively, and asked quickly, “By the holy eternal lad…as sure as the Laird sees me, Richelle is here isn’t she!” His heart beat faster in his chest as a huge grin broke across his face; a deep laughter erupted from his lips.
Pausing once more briefly James spotted his brother and his men, they were trying to get to the scaffold, shouting out loudly, so that his voice carried to his brothers ears, “’Twas a pleasure seeing you again dear brother…” James started laughing as he hunched and allowed himself to be led away from the chaos in the square.
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Skallagrim - Global Moderator
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by SpringTimeFox on Thu Mar 27, 2008 9:35 pm
Sheltie's tattered, gaily colored skirt flipped around her pant legs as she ran through the street. She heard gunshots from the square, causing her to pause in her running for a moment. Raising her head, she looked to the sky, as if her eyesight would allow her to see over the building and back down to the hanging square below. As the fourth gunshot sounded and no cheering erupted from the crowd of noblemen, she continued to run. She distantly heard screams of girlish terror from the noblemen and she had to laugh to herself. For a moment, she had thought herself terribly late for the great escape. Her helter-skelter dash through the city served the purpose of helping "Lucky" James on this, the most lucky day of his life.
She dashed into a side street and nearly ran into the man of the day and his escort. Skidding to a halt before running either of them over, she hastily introduced herself. "Sheltie Norton at yer service, sir," she said, tapping her right index finger to her head in a quick gesture that must have once been formal, at least somewhere. She looked past them into the street, confused and ashamed for a moment. The plan on her end was not to meet them in the street, but her usual procrastination had led her to spend an extra several minutes straightening the multitude of buttons and trinkets on her coat.
She dashed into a side street and nearly ran into the man of the day and his escort. Skidding to a halt before running either of them over, she hastily introduced herself. "Sheltie Norton at yer service, sir," she said, tapping her right index finger to her head in a quick gesture that must have once been formal, at least somewhere. She looked past them into the street, confused and ashamed for a moment. The plan on her end was not to meet them in the street, but her usual procrastination had led her to spend an extra several minutes straightening the multitude of buttons and trinkets on her coat.
Last edited by SpringTimeFox on Thu Mar 27, 2008 9:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Speak softly and carry a big stick.
That way, when they dont hear you, you can hit them in the knees.
I'm finally back. I'm terribly sorry I was gone so long.
Avatar: My girlfriend and I... Yes I'm showing off <3
That way, when they dont hear you, you can hit them in the knees.
I'm finally back. I'm terribly sorry I was gone so long.
Avatar: My girlfriend and I... Yes I'm showing off <3
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Irish Wolf on Thu Mar 27, 2008 9:37 pm
"Aye" said Raff, the guards with muskets were almost finished reloading. "Ye red coated bastards aren't worth me time!" shouted Raff, slashing the last of the guards around the scaffolding guts open. He started running towards the entrance that Caesar had been waiting for him in. Nobles that hadn't already fled scattered before the Irishman returned from the grave. The heavy basket-hilted claymore flashed in the sun, dripping with blood.
Re: Possibly Pirates 2 ( )
by Jadeling Hawkins on Thu Mar 27, 2008 10:10 pm
The green eyed nobleman laughed as he parried a weak thrust and swung a booted foot into the rear of the passing soldier. His blade slipped and slung between red arms and gleaming blades as he worked his way around the British officers, until he was able to dash around them all (ducking and weaving around extended swords) after Raff and towards Caesar. Once the three were together, he continued running down the long open hall that led to a different courtyard, where three horses would be waiting.
"Elizabeth an' that new lass have James, we're ta meet them on the ship in Greensbury!" The womanly voiced nobleman gasped out as he ran at tip-top speed, weapon still drawn and dripping. This was, of course, merely a reiteration of what had been decided days before. But it seemed a decent idea to repeat it. Suddenly, however, the trio were forced to a halt.
There, a few yards before them, was a gate. It hadn't been there in any one of the trips to examine the place before. It was a fine gate, steel bars reaching from the floor to the ceiling and spread just barely enough for a small arm to slip through...but nothing more. It was blocking them from their destination, and was the very definition of a hindrance. The nobleman strode forward, jerking at the lock and then attempting to smash it with the hilt of his sword. No result.
"Blast it!" The man hissed out in frustration. "What now? If we venture any other way, there could be a whole platoon of red coats awaiting us!"
"Elizabeth an' that new lass have James, we're ta meet them on the ship in Greensbury!" The womanly voiced nobleman gasped out as he ran at tip-top speed, weapon still drawn and dripping. This was, of course, merely a reiteration of what had been decided days before. But it seemed a decent idea to repeat it. Suddenly, however, the trio were forced to a halt.
There, a few yards before them, was a gate. It hadn't been there in any one of the trips to examine the place before. It was a fine gate, steel bars reaching from the floor to the ceiling and spread just barely enough for a small arm to slip through...but nothing more. It was blocking them from their destination, and was the very definition of a hindrance. The nobleman strode forward, jerking at the lock and then attempting to smash it with the hilt of his sword. No result.
"Blast it!" The man hissed out in frustration. "What now? If we venture any other way, there could be a whole platoon of red coats awaiting us!"
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Jadeling Hawkins - Global Moderator