Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to Legends Of Arcadia!

We are a site for Roleplay set in the world of Arcadia, as found in the Sega game 'Skies of Arcadia'. We welcome you visitors as you take your first step toward this world, away from the solid land beneath your feet and into a world of floating islands and soaring ships.

If you're looking for adventure, then hop on board our board and explore the endless skies!

Join our community!

And if you're already a member of our crew, please log in!

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Abductions and Lies; 1st RRDC, 3rd RRD
Topic Started: Oct 3 2008, 03:56 PM (3,424 Views)
Ranger
Member Avatar
Previously Nex Terren
Henry shook his head, staring down at the dinner roll he had picked up. Clearly, the captain's offer hadn't satisfied him. His brow tensed, and he opened his mouth as if to say something. For a moment he reconsidered, glancing at the door as if to set out and count for himself, before finally decided that speech was, indeed, the best course of action.

“No, no, that's... I'm Henry.” He informed the group, looking up from the meal. He picked up the napkin, and placed it neatly on his lap. “Henry... With an 'H.' And a 'Y'...” He nodded at this, and took a bite of the roll.

“I... command ships. That's what I do.” He said around his food, chewing thoughtfully. “I'm not sure where they are, though... I.. misplaced them... I'll find them again; you needn't worry. I'll find them... eventually...”

Scooping some mashed potatoes—he wondered what the little green flecks were, and noted that he'd have to remove them before eating—swiping another roll, and eying the soup bowl, Henry began to focus all his thoughts on eating. Quietly, habit causing him to adopt the table manners of the Valuan Naval Academy, he attacked his plate.

Manners, yes, but by written law more than intended purpose. Before long, both rolls were gone, and the mash potatoes had been carefully devoured as to leave the unknown flakes. Soup in front of him—red in color, unknown in substance—he continued his feverish (if well mannered) assault on the food. Down the thick liquid went, and wasting no manner of time, soon it was reduced to half what it had been previously.

And then Henry stopped. He pushed the bowl away, tapped his lips with the napkin, set the cloth down, and then stopped all movement what-so-ever. Hunched over, and drawn in on himself, he stared emptily at the half-full bowl of soup.

“Eight thousand, four hundred... twenty four.” He said at last, “Assuming my estimations to be correct...”

He nodded as he bit his lip. Looking up, he attempted to reenter the conversation.
Edited by Ranger, Nov 12 2008, 03:51 AM.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
PG 17
Member Avatar
Uber Monk
Mikeil waited somewhat impatiently as the rest of the party filed into the dining room. One of the women, an Eleanor, spoke up first, introducing herself as a biologist at some university. Another woman, the one who had seemed to have gone crazy, introduced herself as a professor at another university. During all this, The Captain made a few remarks, but Mikeil was already serving himself. Grabbing the mashed potatoes, he took a scoop and placed them on his plate. Seeing a jar of what looked like tomatoes paste mixed with a few spices, he took it and ladled it over his potatoes.

Eyeing what appeared to be yams; He took a small scoop and sampled it. Ah, it was laced with brown sugar, very nice. Finally, he grasped the plate of roast beef and took a few portions.

He dug into the food with a certain zeal. On the streets, food like this was scarce, so he relished the opportunity to be able to consume it. Feeling an oppressive silence, Mikeil looked up. The rest of the party was eating as well. Feeling a sudden need to speak, Mikeil laid his implements down and leaned back into his chair. Gathering his wits, he began to speak.

“Hm…I don’t really know what to day about myself. Everything before the Rains that fell on Valua is lost to me. I honestly don’t remember anything. However, I do have a vocation, which is an unofficial police man on the more destroyed parts of the Valuan capital. I really don’t know why those pirates attacked and kidnapped me…perhaps for this thing,” He said, moving his metal arm up and down. “I don’t know.”
He slouched back down, and continued his eating.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Colaya
Member Avatar
<__<
Colaya softly laughed at the Captain’s small joke about the inconsistency of fashion. Madison motioned toward the food and told his guests that they did not have to wait for everyone else to arrive before eating. However, Colaya still felt that he should wait a while before digging into the food. Colaya didn’t have to wait long before the rest of the other people arrived.

After the final person had entered the room, Colaya was about to begin filling his plate, but then stopped himself for a moment. People began introducing themselves to one another at the table. Oh… Colaya started thinking to himself for a moment. It probably wouldn’t be a very wise decision to announce that I’m a pirate here in front of everyone… Instead, Colaya decided to remain quiet for this portion of the discussion and hoped that no one would notice him. During this time, Colaya filled his plate with servings from the food that had been placed out in front of him.

Rather than state his occupation, Colaya listened to what companion had to say. He felt discouraged when many of the others declared that they were either of noble blood, or either high ranking officers. This fact caused Colaya to feel even more out of place and embarrassed.

One person did manage to make Colaya perk up, however… “I used to be involved with academia as well. I am Melissa Vander, former professor of Blue Magical Studies at the Valuan University of the Arcane Arts. Sorry if I gave anyone a fright; the good doctor there has patched me up quite well though!”

Oh hey, it’s that woman from before… Melissa Vander… Colaya glanced at her for a moment, and concluded that she actually did look a lot better than before. Anyway…… Blue Magical studies, eh? Colaya had always been fascinated with magic, especially of the Blue variety. Maybe she could teach me a thing or two…

Colaya pushed these thoughts away, so that he may finally be allowed to eat. He picked up his fork to begin, but then realized that he should try to mind his manners in light of his current company. He paused to look around at the others sited at the table around him. However, he was surprised to find that several other people were in the process of devouring every bit of food they could get.

Regardless, Colaya decided that he should try to do his best to behave. Besides, he didn’t want to risk dirtying the elegant uniform that was given to him to wear. He was very careful with his actions, making sure not to drop any food onto his clothes.

Colaya slowly ate the different food that was on his plate, loving every bit of it. He never got to eat so many delicious things in his life at one time. He worked around his dish in a clockwise manner, until he came to a creamy-pink colored pudding substance. Colaya took a scoop of it, and as he put it into his mouth, a glazed-over look washed over his face.

“This...” Colaya said, finally speaking up, “This tastes like….. This taste like Looper……..”

After Colaya said this, it seemed like everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him for a short while. Colaya could feel it. Colaya could feel everyone’s eyes weighing down on him. He slid down in his chair a bit, trying to hide from everyone. By this time, he felt even more out of place than he already was.

Ugh, why did you say that Colaya…… Colaya reprimanded himself, and continued to eat the rest of his meal in complete silence and shame.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
SummerRayn
A.k.a. "Sol"
While Gerrie wasn’t about to let her cigar go out, she at least did not attempt to eat her meal with it still in her mouth. When the host started in on his food, she laid it delicately across the edge of a bread plate, the end still glowing gently under the ash. She sliced some beef off for herself, slowly sawed off a bite-sized piece and ate it. Then she picked the cigar back up, took a puff—partially to keep it going, partially to reassure herself that she was not, and would not be for the foreseeable future, parted from her favored metaphorical opiate.

While she ate, Geraldine listened and watched intently as the man sitting next to her, Henry—with an ‘h’ and a ‘y’—introduced himself and politely inhaled his food.

“I... command ships. That's what I do,” he said slowly through his mouthful of roll. “I'm not sure where they are, though... I.. misplaced them... I'll find them again; you needn't worry. I'll find them... eventually...”

Geraldine picked up her cigar again and sucked until the end shone like the red moonstone in the handle of her still-misplaced pistol. She kept her eyes on him appraisingly as she rolled the smoke around in her mouth, and then expelled it through puckered red lips. She wanted to speak, but was loath to interrupt the man’s contemplation of his soup bowl; as a fellow mathematician, she knew an “I’m making a complex calculation, please don’t bother me” expression when she saw one. Finally, he raised his head again.

“Eight thousand, four hundred... twenty four. Assuming my estimations to be correct...” And he nodded, as though to remind himself that this disclaimer as to his correctness was for appearance’s sake only, and his estimations were hardly to be doubted. A huge grin broke across Geraldine Blitz’s face.

“The rivets, you mean?” she crowed, catching on instantly. “That’s wonderful! Eight thousand, four hundred and twenty four? In the ship?” She clapped him brightly on the back. “I’d need a paper and a pencil at least!” She laughed at her own wit and took a drink from the wine glass before her and a puff on her cigar. She beamed at him as though she’d known he would get the right answer all along and wouldn’t have thought to presume to checking his math.

“You command ships, you say?” she continued, smoke leaking from her mouth as she spoke. She blew the remainder out. “It so happens I navigate them. That’s something we have in common, then—ships!” She laughed again, and cut another piece of roast beef. “I’m pretty good at what I do, too, for when you find those ships you say you lost.” She stuck the bite of meat in her mouth and eyed the dish of bread in front of Henry. “Them rolls look pretty good. You recommend ‘em?”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Gordreg
Member Avatar
Administrator
Eleanor smiled, warmed that some of the others had at least heard of her work. "I thank you, Melissa." She answered, glad that the noblewoman had declined to use formalities even when they had been her prerogative to use or discard; spending the rest of the trip bowing and scraping to the Lady Vander would have been far less enjoyable then speaking with Professor Melissa Vander - even when both were one and the same person. “And I am truly glad to see that you’re looking well… not that any of us aren’t looking a little more healthy for getting out of that vile hole.”

Looking toward the doorway when gestured in that direction, Eleanor noticed the figure of the doctor; hanging back nervously upon the edge of the room. But the poor man was apparently nervous, and Eleanor tried not to stare or to watch too closely as Dr. Morrison hurried from the room and away down the corridor. Morrison, Morrison… hadn’t she heard the name before somewhere, somewhere? His face hadn’t looked unfamiliar either, but where under the six moons had she seen it before? She racked her brain for a moment, though her memories failed to provide any enlightenment and after a short time Eleanor abandoned the task. She was hungry, and still a little woozy from whatever those pirates had done to her; perhaps she would remember better with food inside of her?

She turned her head and glanced over toward the Captain in preparation to answer his question as well, but Captain Madison was busy in the full flow of conversation. And so Eleanor sat and ate as she listened to him and others talk, busily refilling her emptied stomach with the good food of the Captain’s table. Some of the discussions she’d either heard before or heard variations on, and the Captain’s story of his name was actually a little touching; though quite what the strange man had asked about rivets for was slightly perplexing. And how did he mean that he ‘commanded ships’? From his behaviour and from his actions Eleanor hadn’t thought him the type for a commanding officer… perhaps he was a man from logistics, or something? Or a tactician? Eleanor thought a moment longer, then gave a slight wave of her shoulders to take another mouthful of vegetables. Whatever it was that he did, it evidently wasn’t anything that she knew enough about to judge.

And so, when at last a pause in the conversation came about, Eleanor returned to a subject broached that she actually did consider herself quite knowledgeable about.

“Madison, you were asking to question me about Ghastlings?” she queried through a gentle smile, placing her cutlery neatly down upon her plate to free her hands up. “The creatures are very much real, of that you can be sure! Despite what many of the myths say, a Ghastling is as real as you or I or any other person in this room. Though I would not debate their strangeness… when seen through our eyes, of course.” Eleanor chuckled. “Though of course, to them we would probably seem the strange ones… I mean, flightless bipeds soaring amongst the clouds?” she gave another quick laugh.

“No, a Ghastling is nothing more or less then an airborne gastropod. Quite primitive in many respects when compared to a Marocca or a Spear Squid, but they have the same basic features and so we classify them together. Their bodies are soft and gelatinous, lacking in any shell, but this means they are light and only need a very small amount of secreted moonstone in their bodies to keep them aloft for years.” Eleanor explained, her face brightening as she continued. “They feed by grasping onto prey with their tentacles, and propel themselves about by the winds or by the movement of their… fins.” She uttered after a moment of hesitation, deciding that the use of the word ‘parapodia’ would complicate matters too much. “They are hermaphroditic, and the same animal might play the role of female one time and male another… or both at once even, in some cases.”
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Necromancer Sargoth
Member Avatar
Affably Evil
Melissa listened politely to Madison’s family history. The man seemed to be a fine example of nobility, far better than many of the foppish dolts prancing about the Empire today. Once House Vander took the power it owed to it by the crown, Melissa and her brother would be sure to clean house; noblemen like Madison could count on rising high.

“It is good to value your name, now more than ever. Sometimes that is all we have,” said Melissa, solemnly before Madison was interrupted by a question about rivets or some such nonsense.

Her focus trailed off to the food; Melissa realized she was famished. She took a healthy portion of roast, potatoes, vegetables and a roll. Such fare was far more common than her accustomed diet, but the food looked promising. She ate quietly, ignoring much of the conversation. As she ate, she felt more relaxed.

She thought of returning home again; Illius probably had scoured half the plains by now. She could not wait to be back. Vander Rock was always a comfort right down to the smell, old and strong. How a castle smells strong Melissa was unsure, but she knew it to be the scent of the Rock. She longed to be in her bed, an antique, four poster made from solid cherry with a mattress overstuffed with azbeth down. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep there, safe and warm, with a book in her hands.

“This… this tastes like looper.”

That statement brought Melissa back to the table and focused her attention to the dish in question. After eyeing it suspiciously for a moment, she sampled a bit of it herself. She scrutinized both the taste and texture.

“Indeed, Colaya. This tastes just like loopalon. It is a tad too tart though; the ship must have a rather novice cook. No matter, this is simply a military vessel after all. One should not expect a gourmet chef to be stationed aboard.”

Melissa sank back into silence, concentrating on clearing her plate. Talk had shifted over to ghastlings, and Lady Vander was not in the mood to learn about the fauna of South Ocean right about now. She found her thoughts wandering back towards home and the people she missed.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ranger
Member Avatar
Previously Nex Terren
The conversation lulled about, topics shifting like air currents over the meal. It was a bit challenging for Madison to keep track of it all; pay each person his or her rightfully earned attention. This proved to be especially challenging when the young Colaya made the quite peculiar statement. Over the brim of his cup he looked at the sailor with one part amusement, one part confusion. It certainly did not help affairs when the Arcadian of the highest birth in the room agreed on this taste comparison, then picking apart the work of the chef. Her comments about the chef's talents were true--the fellow had been a boot camp cook until the Rains--but the host declined to state such. Instead, he found himself quite unsure of what to say, but nevertheless attempted to remove the visible embarrassment off Colaya's face.

"Well, I can't say that I've ever tasted... well, looper." He nodded, staring into the bowl of the pink, creamy substance, "I wasn't aware that it was even served, much less that my cook used such ingredients." He smirked at this. "Makes me question what else he's been feeding me..."

“Madison, you were asking to question me about Ghastlings?” The biologist questioned, politely putting silverware down.

"I suppose I was." He agreed.

And then the woman continued on with what seemed to be a general discussion of the animal. General for her, that was; Madison nodded, attempted to capture all the details and quirks of the species that the woman was so willing to supply. He found himself tempted to question further on the secreted moonstone--The idea that the animals created moonstone seemed foolish, but could it be possible?--but decided not, least the woman get any farther in-depth, and loose him completely.

"That is absolutely fascinating." He said, brow slightly furrowed as he attempted to process everything she had just said. He couldn't quite swallow the part about them playing the role of male and female at once, but how could he pretend to know creature-life better than this woman? "How do your students manage to let you escape your classes? Do you keep a heavy book handy to beat them away with--?"

A knock sounded at the door.

"Excuse me for a moment--come in!"

A soldier appeared, saluting the seated captain, perfect form and manner.

"At ease." Madison said with a pleased smile.

"Sir?" The fully armored soldier slackened his stance, "We're approaching port. Radio contact has already been made, and, Sir? There appears to be trouble."

The noble-born sat up straight, body tensed, as if ready to jump to action.

"What sort of trouble?"

"Pirates Sir; seems the ones we boarded weren't the only ones. Spotted a little off the coast of the village. They appeared well armed, and with a new ship. The stationed soldiers sent some warning shots in their direction, and ran them off, but reported that the nature of their sail-by seemed to be a scouting. It all happened about six hours ago, Sir."

"So they'll be back, will they?" Madison's form had relaxed some, but now he stood. "Alright then, that's bad news. Tell them to shut down all outgoing ships; I won't let anyone just walk into the arms of blood thirsty cut-throats. Double the watch--on both the docks and here on the Order."

"All out going ships?" The steel-clad questioned, "With due respect, Sir, but what of the prisoners?" The soldier indicated the six figures still seated at the table.

"I'm afraid that means you too," He said, turning towards the six. "It's a peaceful town, and there's no sort of guard I could hire for you--and the force the Amarada lends is a far cry short of enough to protect the town if I were to escort you with the Order. You'll... I'm sorry, but you'll be with us some time longer, it seems. How much longer, I can't say..."

"Sir? The supply vessel comes in a fortnight."

“Ah, the one time we make contact with the rest of the fleet; our monthly request of more forces, and report that our previous requests have been denied” He said sourly. “What those fools think they’re doing building the naval fort off the east coast when we need it here… But yes, that will have to be it. We’ll send word through the supply ship, and you six,” He said, turning towards the table, “Can go then. That craft has enough soldiers to put fear in the hearts of most pirates, cowards as they tend to be. Until then, with pirates as careful to scout sailing about, sending you unaccompanied by land or sea would just be your deaths. I’m… very sorry about his, but it’s all I can do with what I have...

“If we’re within radio contact within Fransmille,” His tone suddenly brightening, “then we should get ready to depart. If you six will follow me, I’ll have the honor of showing you all the finest town in all of Arcadia!”

Madison practically beamed as he strode around the table.

“I’m glad that you’re feeling better…” He said quietly as he passed by Melissa.




“Fransmille.” He announced proudly, sweeping his arm to indicate the cliff-side village.

The whole town seemed precariously perched on the cliff wall, happy stone cottages, wooden storefronts, and two windmills forming the pleasant scene. From the distance the shapes of people could be made out, but only the keen eye could determine male from female. Before Madison stopped speaking, however, the six would be able to see the women in long, simple dresses under white aprons with children clustered about, and men dressed like honest workers moving baskets of fish or in pairs helping to build the new school house. Of any mention of the upper class there was none, save the only indication that the Rains had ever touched that village; an old gothic mansion perched overlooking the village. A few men could be seen on the outside worked on the building, attempting to see to the numerous repairs that were yet complete.

“A fishing village, the citizens make their living on the northern-coastal trade that passes by, and the fishing that’s so plentiful in this region. We’re small, but nowhere else will you find this hospitality. I don’t know if you’re aware, but we’re on the north-north eastern coastline of Valua. To the west, not a fifteen minute walk, you can see the Stone City. The air pirate Vyse was the first to explore it but not the first to discover it, as everyone thinks he did. We were here long before he, I assure you"

“Ruins of a settlement, those. We believe they were built a few hundred years after the fall of the Old World, though we’ve yet to have a truly knowledgeable archaeologist look at them. In truth, nobody in the town will venture near them; that Blue Rouge—Vyse—was the first man to venture into them without some ill fate becoming of him. Superstition runs ramped concerning them.”

With the modern cruiser’s speed, they were now on top of the village, soldiers rushing about to dock the ship. Several ramps were soon extended—with men running up and down them—which connected to the wooden-planked. This dock—appearing quite humble next to the valuan ship—was held up by a number of high-floating barrels and rope, characteristic of small towns.

“Well here I have to say my goodbyes for now; I have to see to docking a ship like this—Oh, Finson! I—I wasn’t expecting you to greet us.”

Up strode a man well built, yet slightly stout man, appearing well suited for a hard day’s labor. He seemed decedent from a number of lines, only one one of which was Valuan. He was dressed in a well kept—if old—red coat, a rather plain white button shirt, and dark green pants. Face was freshly shaven, he looked like one to concern himself with such things, but if held to the same standards as the Valuan Captain, this 'Finson' man could do with a wash.

“Well, I’m full of surprises, dontchaknow?” He said, hostility cloaked thinly.

Madison pretended not to notice.

“May I present to you Finson, Mayor of this fine town, childhood friend, and boon to Valua.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” Finson nodded.

He rubbed the side of his nose—slightly bent from what was mostly likely a brawl—with his silver-ringed fingers, before realizing that he ought provide a more friendly greeting. Reaching forward, he grasped the first hand he could find, and shook it. The calluses on his hand were rough, and his grasp firm.

“I’m mayor of this a-here town, and so if there’s anything that I can do for you? Just have to ask. The pirates treated you badly—from what I hear from that radio message, you see—and I’ll have you know, if I would have been up to me, those pirates would have never been.” He turned towards Lady Vander, “I’m really sorry about all of that, you understand.”

“As you can well tell Mayor Finson is a admirable man,” The mayor gave Madison a look at this, but said nothing, “And you can trust to him to see to your needs. However much I hate to leave you on such short notice,” He gave another one of his graceful, sweeping bows, third, and final one for that day, “But I do have a responsibility to my ship. To the best path you can take, may the moons, and reason never leave your sides.”

He spun around, and in his characteristic stride of all command, all confidence, and all sincerity, marched off. The shun danced through his locks of hair, and framed his coattails as he disappeared around a corner.

The mayor stared off after the viscount captain, once more rubbing the side of his slightly off nose with knuckle. Both his eyes and rings flashes in the late-day sunlight.

“Weeeelll, just standing around won’t get us a-going anywhere, will it? I trust that the Cap’ feed you? Well, it’s a bit early for bed—unless you’re so inclined? At any rate, we’d best find you rooms. There’s only one inn in this town, and she has six rooms. Just enough for the lot of—for all of you.” He said, changing his speech into something more polite.

"You’ll have to forgive me if I offend anyone of you,” He glanced towards the three women, “I’m just used to the people of this town, and the traders. Nobody… well, like… you know...” He coughed. “Right this way.”

Down the seven progressed, townspeople stopped what they were doing to smile, or shout a word of welcome. More than one man or woman could be seen scolding another for staring at the new-comers. A collection of children were part of this starers, but they proved to be a self-correcting bunch; in a moment they whispered among themselves, and rushed indoors. Everyone seemed quite friendly towards Finson--but the Mayor kept scowling bitterly, as if not pleased with the way the townsfolk were treating the newcomers. Each time one caught Finson's glower their expressions of welcoming joy dropped, and they hurried indoors.

"Well, that large cottage looking thing up there?" He nodded, voice gruff in a sailor's manner, "That's the inn. Her name is Sandra, the innkeeper that is. She'll help you out. It's a good hour or so away from anyone else going to bed, but maybe you're all early sleepers? If you want to look around, feel free, and if you have any questions, ask them." He nodded at this, eying the Navigator in particular. What was going through his mind wasn't entirely evident.

"Well? If I can help you with something, say so."




The two rounds will be up to the Crawler what he or she does; feel free to do anything you want, and you're even permitted limited control over the townspeople with the exception of the Mayor. If you do, please respect the fact that you don't know everything as of yet, and carefully review what has been said about the townspeople so far, as to not produce a conflicting tale.

You may rest at the inn whenever you choose, take the time to RP around the town, or try to uncover any mysteries, or answer any questions you might have. Once you go to sleep (you must clearly indicate sleep) you will not participate in any future rounds until everyone has gone to sleep, unless you, for example, request a dream sequence before the next round starts. Keep this in mind. If you take too long going to the Inn, you will be asked to advance there with your next post.


A final word to pay close attention to the schedule for the following rounds. With that, have fun RPing this setting!


Nex Terren 2/3 Tuesday, 11-18-08
PG 17 1/3 Wednesday, 11-19-08
Colaya 0/3 Thursday, 11-20-08
Solstice 0/3 Friday, 11-21-08
Gordreg 0/3 Saturday, 11-22-08
Necromancer Sargoth 1/3 Sunday, 11-23-08
????? ?/3 Monday, 11-24-08
????? ?/3 Tuesday, 11-25-08
????? ?/3 Wednesday, 11-26-08
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ranger
Member Avatar
Previously Nex Terren
"Well I erm, I--Pencil and--Yes I do--do we?--well yes, but I suppose--But my ships--Yes! Rolls! Good!"

Henry proceed to shove the entire remains of the roll he was holding into his mouth, as if convicted to convince this woman. Studying holes into the dishware, the man began contemplating becoming a follower of the purple moon, and theSylenis it promised; perhaps that could be twisted to some manner of vocal silence. Not that such would stop this woman, Henry realized. Maybe if he picked up his soup bowl and threw it just right... at the mere thought, a parade of numbers marched through his mind, and in the midst of their calculating aura, what he was trying to figure out began to escape him. Not that such mattered; he was good with numbers, after all.

Henry's gaze lifted

He could figure things out where it'd take others a pencil and paper. At least. Did everyone hear that? At least!

Henry's shoulders straitened.

Henry was not alone. He was one of six random captives, and here somebody was--against all odds--that worked with ships, like him! Never mind if his ships were fictitious or not, they were still ships! Imagine that, what was the probability that he'd so happen to run into another person who dabbled in sailing in that blue world of Arcadia? Well, Henry didn't bother calculating, but surely the probability was astronomical!

Henry turned toward Geraldine with the biggest smile he had shown in weeks.

"As a matter of fact I do recommend the roles!" Henry nodded, as if this was truly a profound statement. The rolls! There was nothing quite like them! "They're... I'd say that they are the best rolls that I've ever tasted. And, well, if I may say so I consider myself an expert on rolls. You understand I've... I'm a chef--ah--baker myself! In fact I--"

He nodded at this, cutting himself off from saying that he was the one who had done the baking for that meal. Plucking a roll from the bowl, he offered it proudly to the navigator.

"Roll?" He smiled hopefully.




Stumbling through the town, Henry adverted his eyes from the townspeople. The other prisoners, Madison, the soldiers, well, even the pirates were different, but in front of these people? In front of ordinary men and women? He felt exposed without his ships. Wetting his lips he kicked at the worn grassy path that they walked down. These people's lives were just perfect, weren't they? Happy in their happy little houses, happily living their happy little lives.

Shoving his hands down deep in his pocket, his fingers tightened around something hard, round, cold...

"Well, that large cottage looking thing up there?" the Mayor spoke in a hearty way, a gruffness that reminded Henry of the guards at the Naval Academy. "That's the inn. Her name is Sandra, the innkeeper that is. She'll help you out. It's a good hour or so away from anyone else going to bed, but maybe you're all early sleepers? If you want to look around, feel free, and if you have any questions, ask them."

"Sandra. Right." Henry gave a brown study at this fact, mentally noting this name. "And I suppose it'll cost, won't it? That sure puts a hole in things..."

Well, he suppose the townsfolk would understood if he started a tab. But how would he pay it off? Well, he supposed work like he had known... long ago. This was a fishing town--Henry was certain that he had heard that at some point--and so certainly they'd need ship hands of some sort? Hauling heavy nets on deck, and pulling the sails in check... but work could wait.

"What are all of you... all of you going to do?"

His gaze swept around the the other five: the strange valuan man with unnatural arm, the bright young sailor who had a spring in his step that the others could not hope for, the noble lady who held herself with surprising grace despite the circumstances, the young, astonishingly intelligent biologist--their gazes met, and, heart quickening, he jerked gaze away--and then the navigator. Face remained characteristically bland until he spotted the last one, and then his whole being brightened. He lifted his hand, and opened mouth as if to say something, but then second guessed this action, and remained quiet.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the townspeople watching him. He knew that they were only being friendly and curious, but still...




Didn't think that I made this clear enough from what I heard in chat. You're free to do whatever you please; cheat, steal, kill, hunt down any of the previous characters, corner anNPC , explore the town. Don't god-mod, but I'll allow limited control over the characters; if you think of a reasonable location for them to be at, you may place them there, but like another Player Character, please don't make them talk.

NPCs can be treated a bit more liberally; you can have short conversations with them, but anything longer should be done through me, the DM.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
PG 17
Member Avatar
Uber Monk
Mikeil pushed the remaining food around on his plate, half listening to the conversation around him. He was practically done, and was not sure what to do. He did not have to wait long, before a knock sounded on the door. Madison signalled for whoever it was on the other side of the door to join them, a young soldier it seemed. He gave a report that they were going to make port, and that pirates had been spotted just a small way off the coast.

Mikeil was instantly intrigued. Perhaps, just maybe, those pirates had his equipment. The only things left to him were those swords. He shrugged the thought off. He needed to focus getting things back together. The soldier and the Captain continued their discussion, Madison indicating that the port was to be closed off, and transport would not be expected for another fortnight.

After a short speech about the conditions of the Armada’s supply, Madison gave them leave of the table. Mikeil stood up immediately, eager to be on his way.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


They strode up on deck, the sight of a small village clustered between cliffs and hills straight ahead. Mikeil felt s small twinge as he looked at. There was something about it…
“Fransmille.” The Captain said, flinging his arm out to indicate the village. He seemed quite proud of the village, but Mikeil was not too terribly impressed. The Captain continued his speech as the ship grew closer and closer to the village. Forms could be made out now, men and women attending to various tasks.

It was not long before the finally made port over the village. The ship was lashed to the docks, and they made their way off. A well dressed man approached them, who the Captain introduced as Finson. Apparently, he was the town mayor. He seemed a bit unkempt, and slightly hostile. However, the slight hostility disappeared, and he strode forward and shook someone’s hand, Mikeil was not sure which. He expressed regret at their treatment by the pirates, turning and looking at the Noblewoman…Vander, Mikeil recalled.

At that point, the Captain said a few more words and strode off, still giving off an air of command even as he walked away. The mayor spoke again, telling them of an Inn not far off run by a woman named Sandra. Mikeil was not quite ready for sleep but decided he should make his way over the Inn. As they entered the village proper, several of the townsfolk came to welcome them. However, the Mayor shot off a few quick glances at the people, and they hurried off. Mikeil ignored them, instead turning to the Mayor.
“I don’t believe I require assistance, sir. I will just make my way up to the Inn.”
He made his way past the Mayor, and quickened his pace up the street. Something felt wrong…he was not sure what, but something.

It was not long before he reached the entrance to the Inn. He opened the double doors to reveal a pub like area. Several men were sitting at tables, some playing cards, others with just a drink. One of them looked noticeably drunk, and Mikeil took note to avoid him. He proceeded to an un-occupied table, and sat down. He made no motions to a server, instead taking the time to sit and think, running his hands through his hair.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Gordreg
Member Avatar
Administrator
Eleanor laughed, but before she could make her answer to the Captain's question about students a heavy knocking sounded at the door and Madison dropped away from the conversation to listen to his man. And the news he had to share was hardly an inconsequential titbit; Eleanor listened in and felt her throat tightening as he spoke of pirates and Madison spoke of confining all ships to the harbour... including any that might return them back into the world at large.

Moons; would she once again be a prisoner?

She sighed lightly, and though her smile didn't fade it nonetheless dulled a little. An edge-town was better then a creaky old ship, and the handsome Captain Madison better by far then the unkempt wretch who had kidnapped and bound their group. Yet for all that was so very much better then the ghastly awakening in that dingy hold, it could not hide that in the space of a heartbeat their liberty had once again been taken away. Briefly she wondered about Dool, and how her pet would fare for two further weeks on his lonesome. Her lips tightened. As a member of a species ill-loved by most of Arcadia, Dool’s chances did not seem to be that great…

...But there was nothing that she could do about that. She would simply have to wait, and to hope that Dool would still be about when she came to pick it up. And in the meanwhile, there was Fransmille to deal with. At least it would be a place to investigate and explore whilst she waited, and as long as something lived there then she would find some means to entertain herself.

Standing up, Eleanor quietly nodded her assent. It was time to see just where it was that they would spend the next few weeks…
_____________________________________________________________

Eleanor tilted her head, following the sweep of Madison’s hand as it waved toward the village of Fransmille. As a place, it really was quite… vertical. The tops of the houses in each row barely met the ground floor of the house behind, and between the rows she could see a pathway zig-zagging toward the top of the cliff. Up the top of the cliff a looming mansion glowered downward upon the village; Eleanor noting that the Cliffside wing of the mansion actually protruded out over the village itself. The overhang was itself scaffolded, and the busy shapes of working men scampered across the scaffold like Scarabees on a dungpile. Below them others were also at work; despite the unusual shape of the village Eleanor could see both men and woman walking along the steep and twisting street, some with children in tow whilst others busied themselves with constructing some grand new building on the eastern side of the town.

But her attention was torn back to Captain Madison once again, and she listened as he told of the village and of the stone city. The stone city… now there was a place she’d heard of before; a few colleagues from the Archaeological College had gone there the previous year to investigate and their findings had been on display in the university museum ever since; the first new exhibit since the rains. And whilst dry old ruins themselves did little to rise Eleanor’s interest, she could remember a few of the tales they had told; of odd creatures that they’d thought they’d seen lurking in some of the lower passageways but which they’d neither captured not pictographed. Eleanor felt a small smile return as she saw the ship’s ramps slide home onto the ground of the portside; perhaps her time here would at least give her the opportunity to correct a part of that oversight?

And then a strange man walked up to the group, and Eleanor blinked at the sight of him, as if his visage was somehow slightly familiar. He was a well-built, hearty man who seemed as if he might have been descended from mixing all the populations of Arcadia into one being. His skin needed a wash and his nose was crooked, and for the briefest of moments Eleanor wondered to expect a scraggly unkempt beard. But his lip was clean shaven, rather then only half-shaved… Eleanor frowned for a moment and studied more closely, wondering briefly as she did so just how recently a razor might have been applied…

“Captain Madison, I must give you our thanks again.” Eleanor nodded, turning to return his graceful bow with a gentle curtsey. “You saved us all from a terrible fate; and we are eternally within your debt. May the moons bless you.”

She smiled, and tried her hardest not to turn around to look back at the mayor again. For a childhood friend, he had seemed surprisingly hostile… was something going on between the two of them that their group just weren’t aware of?

“A pleasure to meet you, mayor Finson.” Eleanor forced herself to smile, uncertain if this really was a pleasure or just an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. “I thank you for making us welcome here.” She added, traipsing slightly reluctantly along after the man, watching the way that the townsfolk stopped and scattered beneath the mayor’s stare. Was there some reason why he was annoyed by their welcome, Eleanor wondered?

And as the mayor came to the last part of his tour, Eleanor glanced upward toward the cottage that had been suggested as their room for the evening. Six rooms? That seemed somehow almost too convenient; what if one room had been taken by a trader? Was the mayor simply informed about all passing visitors, or… was this just another facet of the strangeness of this whole situation?

Eleanor shook her head.

“I thank you, Mayor Finson; but no, I’m in need of no help here. I think I’ll take a brief look around your charming little town before I turn in though… Melissa?” she called over to the noblewoman. “Would you care to join me?”

She waited, to see what the reply would bring, then gave a nod of her head in reply. "Ah, of course. Say no more!" she answered, and started walking off slowly. But only once she was sure that the Mayor could no longer be seen did she pause to mutter under her breath.

"Is it just me... or is there something about the mayor that's unpleasently familliar?"
Edited by Gordreg, Nov 23 2008, 02:56 AM.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
DealsFor.me - The best sales, coupons, and discounts for you
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · Non-Canon RPs · Next Topic »
Add Reply

Autumnea Theme created by Zeus00 and converted by Wolt of the ZetaBoards Theme Zone