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| Following a Trail of Blood | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 31 2008, 08:07 PM (275 Views) | |
| Simon | Oct 31 2008, 08:07 PM Post #1 |
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Blast From the Past!
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The sun trickled in through the dirty windows of Warehouse #15 around seven in the morning, but it would be several hours later that they roused the tenant of the old building from his troubled sleep. What atrocities Mortis dreamed of was anybody’s guess; Moons only knew, he had seen quite a few in his life. Mortis tossed and turned, sweating and muttering, from the moment he lay down to this moment now, when the midday sun finally coaxed his eyes open. Mortis, disoriented, instinctively grabbed for his weapon, which sat by his bed, and sat up. After a quick assessment of the warehouse, he realized he had woken up of his own accord, and slid his feet out from under to covers onto the floor. Mortis took a moment to examine the weapon in his hand; he had bought the new bamboo staff in the Yafutoman capital after his old one was destroyed in the bloodbath at Dagger’s Bend. Mortis had always admired the subtle beauty of the staff; the weapon’s simplicity, the way it just felt natural in his hands… But the true beauty in this new staff was anything but natural. For after Mortis had purchased his new cloak, scarf, and staff in Yafutoma, he made another stop, in Upper Valua; there, he had the lightweight steel grafted onto the staff in a spiraling pattern, punctuated by a razor-sharp barb on either end. It took a few tries to find a blacksmith who wouldn’t compromise the staff’s perfect balance, but money wasn’t an object when it came to Mortis’ tools of the trade. And this tool, Mortis flipped the staff over, examining the opposite side… … Wasn’t going to break beneath the hand of any lowlife pirate, that was for sure. Mortis placed the staff back in its resting place and slid out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants and a loose white shirt. Mortis grabbed an old half-filled glass of loqua, and filled the rest with water, downing the whole thing in two gulps, before refilling the glass with water and downing that, as well. Slamming the glass down on a nearby table, Mortis began rummaging around the warehouse for something to eat, but to no avail; Mortis backed up and examined the state of his bachelor’s pad; this place really was a shithole. Shrugging the notion off, Mortis stepped outside, grabbing the pile of mail that sat on his doorstep and perusing it as we walked back inside. Nothing good, only a stern warning about overdue rent from his landlord and a bunch of advertisements for new shops opening up in the Sailor’s Island area. All trash. Mortis tossed the mail in a pile on his floor, and headed for the shower; it had been a week and a half since he returned from Dagger’s Bend, and he had fully recovered… At this point, he was just procrastinating. As he showered, he decided it was time to start looking for work again. A half hour later, Mortis slipped on his brand-new cloak and scarf, red, black, and yellow, and emerged from his home. People avoided Seeker’s path and gaze as he strode confidently toward the main street of Sailor’s Island. In no time, Seeker had made his way to the Sailor’s Guild. As he entered, heads turned, and conversations died out. The guildmaster decided it would be in his business’ best interests to break the silence with an “Ah!” of recognition, followed by a casual “Long time, no see! New outfit?” Seeker responded with a noncommittal grunt. Heads turned back to what they were doing, and slowly, the murmur of conversation filled the place again, albeit more hushed than before. The guildmaster let out a sigh of relief, and then his face suddenly lit up, as if he had just remembered something. “Oh! There was a woman in here just yesterday who mentioned you.” Seeker’s eyebrow raised. The guildmaster took this as his cue to continue. “Nothing bad, of course… Just mentioned how a job on the wanted list sounded just like something you’d, you know…” The guildmaster hesitated “Um, take… care of, y’know…” “Oh?” Seeker asked, mildly surprised, but at the same time proud of the notion that his name was becoming better-known among the citizens of Arcadia. “This one here,” the guildmaster handed Mortis the Wanted List, finger pointing out a short entry toward the bottom. Kenan the Kleptomaniac – This ex-Black Pirate dodged apprehension by the Valuan High Court due to the confusion following the Rains of Destruction. Since then, he has resorted to petty thievery and burglary in Upper Valua, plundering estates damaged in the Rains, and terrorizing the local citizens of Upper Valua. For more information, and to negotiate payment, contact Lady Zebedee at the following addresses: The entry went on to list post office boxes in Upper Valua, Sailor’s Island, and Nasrad. Mortis was disappointed in the entry; to be honest, it wasn’t at all the kind of contract he’d normally pursue… Personal contracts of this nature were often bad news, especially when the person didn’t list the price… This “Lady Zebedee” would probably only pay out one or two thousand gold, maybe even less, for a simple burglar. Mortis was more interested in some of the more notorious black pirates on the list, one of whom’s bounty was over 7,000 gold… That’d keep Mortis fed for a few months. Still, Mortis supposed it wouldn’t hurt to commit the post office box to memory. |
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| Simon | Oct 31 2008, 08:25 PM Post #2 |
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Blast From the Past!
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A week later, Mortis still hadn’t worked up the initiative to start working again; the job he had been looking into, the one that paid 7,000, disappeared from the Wanted List two days after he had noticed it. He had sailed to a nearby village in Mid-Ocean only to find that the sightings of a wanted woman there were falsified. And Mortis simply didn’t want to do a job that wouldn’t bring him over 4,000 gold; or at least make him better known. The market was just… Slim these days, Mortis guessed. Thank the Moons he had so much gold stockpiled; a year or two ago, Mortis wouldn’t have been able to eat without working at least once a week. Mortis stepped outside, prepared to set out for his daily trip to the Sailor’s Guild. He picked up the pile of mail on his stoop, glanced it over once, and moved to toss it all on the floor, when something caught his eye. A purple wax seal. Mortis tore open the sealed letter with mild interest. Mister Seeker: Thank you for showing interest in my cause. This scum has robbed my family of several priceless heirlooms, and as a community we Upper Valuans are through with putting up with such atrocities. We believe we know the Lower Valuan hotel where this man is staying and I personally am willing to award you with 10,000 gold if you find him and kill him, no questions asked. I will quietly remove his entry from the Wanted List, and the authorities will be none the wiser. In addition to the blood price, my family is willing to pay 5,000 gold for the recovery of our family heirlooms. Either way, you would gain the thanks of House Zebedee and the Upper Valuan community as a whole if you rid the world of this villain once and for all. Looking forward to your reponse, Lady A. Zebedee Mortis re-read the letter to make sure he had his numbers straight. Ten thousand gold? Fifteen thousand, possibly? These nobles really threw their money around, didn’t they? And a blood price, not a normal search-and-apprehend bounty; the notion of circumventing the law bothered Mortis for only a second before another feeling replaced it; bloodlust. It was… unlike him. This entire endeavor was a bit unlike him. Too underhanded, too simple, too suspicious, and… that feeling, wow! And yet, Mortis found himself sailing to the Valuan Capital earlier the next morning, fully armed and pockets loaded with healing crystals and magic boxes; his destination? Lower Valua, at the Teodora’s Heel Inn. His target? Kenan the Kleptomaniac. |
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6:56 PM Jul 11