Jim "the news man" Taylor's Story

Jim "the news man" Taylor smells like someone left a cheesesteak out a bit too long

Jim "the news man" Taylor came falling through a void in the sky still half asleep. He instinctively reached for a parachute cord only to remember he hasn't worn a parachute in two years. the sensation of the wind and realization that he has no way to slow his fall jolts him completely alert. he falls for thirty seconds before a last ditch effort to be saved he shouts, " I'll buy anyone a drink if you save me from falling!"
Out from a shadowed alley a gravity field emerged to catch Jim at the last possible moment before impact. Jim got set down gently on his feet. Jim ran in the direction of the alley to pursue his savior, only to get distracted by the wind whispering to him, "come find me," in that all too familiar voice of the mystic woman who he had met the previous day on his world. Jim paused to observe his surroundings more closely, it was quickly apparent to him that he was far from his world.
"Is this real? he exclaimed for anyone to answer. As he waited for an answer he was sure he already knew he wandered to a nearby cafe to order a coffee. He pulled out his small flask of whisky to add to his coffee. He sat there sipping his spiked coffee in peace taking in the details around him using his reporter senses.

Bartholomew Davis, Captain of the Virgin Mary, last of the infamous privateer space pirate ships, like his ship was a relic of another time, barely remembered. He teleported down from his ship circling Terra to Wing City Spaceport. Bartholomew knew he was running late to his meeting, as he hustled through the busy streets, he muttered to himself, "damn this robot leg, piece of garbage cant keep up in this gravity." He refused to admit that he was getting too old to be running these errands by himself. This job was different though, it was a high profile client who wanted some ancient earth relics. As he turned down the last alley to get to his destination he spots a man fall from the sky. He tried to ignore it as he was already behind schedule. Call it him going soft in his old age or intuition he turns to face the falling man, puts down the chest of loot, and fired a gravity field from his cybernetically enhanced right arm to save the falling man. He picked the chest back up and continued to hurry down the alley. Bartholomew reached the end of the alley, pressed in 6 stones particular stones on the wall and entered through a new door that materialized where there was only wall before. the room was warm and dry. There was a faint smell of vanilla and tobacco in the air. He sauntered across the room past the bar. he stopped at the back rook being guarded by two armed men that demanded he relieve himself of his armaments. Bartholomew acknowledged the guards requests handing over both guns at his sides and the one at the small of his back before entering.
Bartholomew entered the back room to see his client, an ugly fat man by the name of Baron Harkonness sitting next to a man he didn't recognize. Bartholomew set the chest down next to the table and sat across from the two men. Before Bartholomew could question who it was who sat next to his client, the baron gestured to the seated young man and said, "Captain Davis this is my son Bart-"
"change it," Bartholomew quickly interjected expression as cold as liquid helium.
The baron broke out in laughter, Bartholomew's expression never changed. "I jest, I kid, it was merely an attempt at humor. I almost got you that time didn't I? But on a serious note this is my expert in the field of ancient earth antiques. He will be evaluating to see if what you've brought me is genuine or not."
Bartholomew picked up the chest and sat it on the table between them. He unlocked the chest with a key that formed from one of his cybernetic fingers. Before opening the lid Bartholomew confirmed, "25 million credits per item as we agreed previously, correct?"
"If it passes inspection," the baron replied.
Upon confirmation Bartholomew opened the chest to reveal thirty-seven cassette tapes, a walkman cassette player, a beanie baby, and an undamaged pair of rayban wayfarer sunglasses. The baron's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the sight of such historic treasure. The inspector came to grudgingly admit that every item was genuine. never had such a collection of this scale been found since the Voyager's golden album.
Bartholomew finally showed the first signs of a smile as he saw such a large payday come his was. Bartholomew waited until all the funds were transferred into his accounts before he picked up his now empty chest. He tipped his hat towards the baron and his associate.
"Pleasure doing business with you two I look forward to hearing from you soon." Bartholomew said on his way out. He stopped at the guards and gestured to the velvet pillow his guns were on. Bartholomew re-holstered each gun with the swift clean motion that only someone who's one with their weapon could ever hope to achieve. He exited through the door that he came in. He sauntered back up the alley with a gentle sway in his stride and a grin on his face. he reached the square and saw an unusual man sitting by himself drinking what appeared to be coffee. As he was about to pass the unusual man he realized it was the man he saved from falling earlier. Instead of continuing to pass by the stranger, Bartholomew decided to sit down across from the man. after sever long moments of silence Bartholomew breaks the silence and said, "You're welcome for earlier."
"Thank you, miste-"
"Captain, its captain Bartholomew Davis. And you are?"
"My name is Jim, Jim Taylor and I owe you a drink," Jim replied.
gently stroking his bushy beard, "A life debt can't be so easily paid for with coffee. The way i see it, you owe me at least three years of your life," Bartholomew replied calmly
"We can get to that later, but first a drink. I did say I'd buy a drink for anyone who saved me and I am a man of my word. so what can i get you, an Irish coffee?"
"not sure what that is but sure if you're buying Jim."
Jim signaled a server and ordered another hot coffee and creme.
"So I see I'm in a spaceport of some sort and there's a lot of tech I've never seen as well as thousands of types of aliens. I can safely assume I'm not on earth anymore. If those previous statements are facts and based on your name, appearance, and the fact that you only have one empty chest in your possession I can deduce that you're cargo is, shall we say, less than scrupulous. what will it take to get an interview with you?" Bartholomew shifted in his seat, its not the first time that a stranger got the gist of his method of income but he was the first to do so so casually without any hesitation and knowledge of his surroundings. Bartholomew opened his mouth to respond after a momentary pause. At that moment the coffee arrived. "hold that thought," Jim said as he pulled out a flask from one of the pockets on his vest, "The secret to a good Irish coffee is to gently mix in the whiskey to the coffee." He gently stirred in the whiskey from his flask and passed the drink to Bartholomew.
Bartholomew hesitated before taking a sip. He gently put the cup back onto the saucer and with a visible grin he conceded, "that's the best coffee I've had."
Jim smiled warmly, "I'll give you the rest if you get me off world."
Bartholomew picked up his cup finishing off his Irish coffee, sat the cup down gently before he reached out his right hand to shake Jim's. "you've got yourself a deal."
Jim shook Bartholomew's hand. Bartholomew's grin turned into a booming roar of laughter, his cybernetic hand detached from his wrist and was locked onto Jim's. Bartholomew tapped the base of his left ear and said, "Bring me and our new guest of honor up to the ship in 5,4," he picked up the empty chest, "Take a deep breath Jimbo, 1!"
there was a flash of light and both Jim and Bartholomew disappeared from Wing City Spaceport.

Maybe another dragon would arrive upon the scene of the wayward vessel and her crew. It was also possible that as the ship would arrive towards the shores of this strange new land that they would find treasures and adventures beyond their wildest comprehensions. This was the very basis as to what Benjamin had hoped for as his eyes glowed with an ominous aura allowing him to watch the ship at greater distances that what a simple spyglass could afford. It was only when he dismissed the spell and clenched his off hand tightly around the dragons tooth he carried that he would begin to make his way down to the shoreline in which the crew of the strange ship would land.

Once upon arrival and when they had gotten close enough to both see and hear the rather large man they would notice the strange bits and bobbles of gold that he wore alongside his traveling robes and even the strange staff in hand that appeared oddly like a massive tooth from an unknown beast.

"Greetings my friends!" Benjamin shouted out towards the Vikings only to raise his staff up ever so slightly as if to wave to the travelers. "Greetings and blessings be upon you worthy sailors. Might you be lost? The nearest port is far from this wretched patch of wilderness and the Gods above only know what kind of creatures would lurk in wait for such a strange ship to arrive upon unknown shores......."

The Empyrean seas began to toss as something deep below began to shift.

The cataclysmic maelstrom departed and left a quivering and traumatized sea in its wake. Waves calmed, the echoes of thunder subsided, and the rains ceased. While the distant flying mountain fired across the sky, the tides of the Empyrean Sea sighed with relief and settled into their natural patterns.

But something stirred.

Deep, deep, deep into the bottommost reaches of the sea, an ancientness beyond reckoning stirred from its slumber. Down, in the darkest depths where no light has shone for thousands of years, the silt shifted. Plunged into the cold crushing pressure of the deepest crevice, tucked away in the darkest abyss beneath the dead and lifeless undercurrents of the Empyrean Sea, a siren’s song disturbed the silence.

The song arose from the abyss and drifted across the ocean floor. It’s soothing melody swam through the tides, currents, and the hidden places of the deep - and it whispered. It called.

Nameless names and wordless words. The song promised the unfathomable, spoke of the unknowable, and it called for its ancient children. Somewhere, great monstrous tentacles stretched out from dark trenches and gargantuan fish slithered from mucus-filled holes and remembered age-old plots. Swarms of foul creatures with pincers, fins, tendrils, and all manner of horrible appendages and eyes stirred in the forgotten crevices of the sea.

Maelstr’s song echoed through the deep and whispered through the tide, calling to all who would hear her voice.

The Stjornkona drifts aimlessly over the Empyrean High Seas, arriving from the beach and heading into deeper open waters, rocking and rolling against the massive heavy waves as it disappears over the vast distant watery horizon.