Irate Pirate
06-16-15, 11:07 PM
Closed. Tarot Hierarchy recruitment thread.
Dark and ominous clouds swirled over the icy sea waters that laid between Eiskalt and Raiaera. Along one of the trade routes between the nations, miles from land where there was no help to found, Sun Singer had run into trouble. The dark clouds had brought with them more than just a light hail shower and a bunch of numb fingers.
As the light of the stars disappeared due to the looming storm pirates had arrived under the cover of the darkness looking for a pay day. They came in long boats, four in all, each with a crew of six men. Smaller and faster than the bulky merchant vessel, they flanked it easily and attached themselves to it's hull with harpoons like lampreys to a whale.
Dmitri Slovak was among these would be pillagers. Like the others he moved hand over calloused hand across the thick and partially frozen rope towards the deck of his prey. As he got closer he could hear Sun Singer's panicked crew over the splashing waves and salty winds. The poorly prepared sailors scrambled atop its soggy deck looking for anything with a blade on it to hack away at the thick ropes that the pirates were using to board them.
Unfortunately the same salty conditions that made the thick ropes so hard and leathery also dulled their hatchets and their machetes. By the time the first roped snapped the pirates had already boarded the vessel. For a few moments the sounds of battle, of clashing metal and pained or fearful screams, drowned out those of the billowing wind and the pounding hail as the untrained, unprepared and mostly unarmed merchants and sailors were slaughtered like lambs and their bodies were robed of anything valuable and tossed unceremoniously overboard.
Dmitri looked over the side of the boat at the floating bodies and his stomach churned but it wasn't from the sight or smell of the gore or from the rocking motion of the boat which had only gotten with the increasing violence of the storm. Truth be told, he'd had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his gut since he'd taken this job. It must have been something he ate.
“Dmitri!” barked the captain of the little rag tag pirate crew. A fat, bearded behemoth of a man named Olav with a sword on one side pistol on the other. “Get yer ass up to the bridge and steer us back to towards Tirel before the storm sinks us! The rest of ya haul those long boats up and make sure the cargo's secure!” he yelled is Salvic.
To which Dmitri and the rest of the crew responded with a resounding “Yes Captain!” in the same tongue.
Dmitri walked across the slippery deck of the ship to the bridge as he was told where he grabbed The Sun Singer's ornately carved wheel and for the time being he was able to forget about those pangs of discomfort that he'd been feeling for days as he fought to get the ship on course and keep it upright.
This relief would prove to be only temporary.
It couldn't have been more than an hour or two later when Captain Olav came barging in with a bottle of elven wine in one hand and a strange medallion in the other. Dmitri's eyes focused on the medallion. It was made out some strange, sea green colored metal that he didn't recognize. It edges were engraved with some sort of strange lettering. Runes perhaps. The center piece of the item looked like a spider, connected only by it's limbs to the letter carve, outer ring.
The bad feelings that plagued Dmitri before were nothing compared to what he felt when his eyes fell upon that medallion.
“What's wrong with you? A little sea sick are ya?” laughed the captain as he took another swig of the wine. “Well cheer up. This is the piece that fancy talkin' bastard was looking for. Get us home safe and we'll all be rich as kings.”
“Aye captain! We'll hit land by sunrise.” responded Dmitri loudly.
“That's what I like to hear!” exclaimed Captain Olav with another hearty laugh before he exited the cabin again.
Outside the winds grew louder and the seas grew rougher. Inside Dmitri said a silent prayer to the Sway for safety. Dark clouds were all around him and his gut was warning him of danger and he'd learned long ago that his gut was rarely wrong.
Dark and ominous clouds swirled over the icy sea waters that laid between Eiskalt and Raiaera. Along one of the trade routes between the nations, miles from land where there was no help to found, Sun Singer had run into trouble. The dark clouds had brought with them more than just a light hail shower and a bunch of numb fingers.
As the light of the stars disappeared due to the looming storm pirates had arrived under the cover of the darkness looking for a pay day. They came in long boats, four in all, each with a crew of six men. Smaller and faster than the bulky merchant vessel, they flanked it easily and attached themselves to it's hull with harpoons like lampreys to a whale.
Dmitri Slovak was among these would be pillagers. Like the others he moved hand over calloused hand across the thick and partially frozen rope towards the deck of his prey. As he got closer he could hear Sun Singer's panicked crew over the splashing waves and salty winds. The poorly prepared sailors scrambled atop its soggy deck looking for anything with a blade on it to hack away at the thick ropes that the pirates were using to board them.
Unfortunately the same salty conditions that made the thick ropes so hard and leathery also dulled their hatchets and their machetes. By the time the first roped snapped the pirates had already boarded the vessel. For a few moments the sounds of battle, of clashing metal and pained or fearful screams, drowned out those of the billowing wind and the pounding hail as the untrained, unprepared and mostly unarmed merchants and sailors were slaughtered like lambs and their bodies were robed of anything valuable and tossed unceremoniously overboard.
Dmitri looked over the side of the boat at the floating bodies and his stomach churned but it wasn't from the sight or smell of the gore or from the rocking motion of the boat which had only gotten with the increasing violence of the storm. Truth be told, he'd had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his gut since he'd taken this job. It must have been something he ate.
“Dmitri!” barked the captain of the little rag tag pirate crew. A fat, bearded behemoth of a man named Olav with a sword on one side pistol on the other. “Get yer ass up to the bridge and steer us back to towards Tirel before the storm sinks us! The rest of ya haul those long boats up and make sure the cargo's secure!” he yelled is Salvic.
To which Dmitri and the rest of the crew responded with a resounding “Yes Captain!” in the same tongue.
Dmitri walked across the slippery deck of the ship to the bridge as he was told where he grabbed The Sun Singer's ornately carved wheel and for the time being he was able to forget about those pangs of discomfort that he'd been feeling for days as he fought to get the ship on course and keep it upright.
This relief would prove to be only temporary.
It couldn't have been more than an hour or two later when Captain Olav came barging in with a bottle of elven wine in one hand and a strange medallion in the other. Dmitri's eyes focused on the medallion. It was made out some strange, sea green colored metal that he didn't recognize. It edges were engraved with some sort of strange lettering. Runes perhaps. The center piece of the item looked like a spider, connected only by it's limbs to the letter carve, outer ring.
The bad feelings that plagued Dmitri before were nothing compared to what he felt when his eyes fell upon that medallion.
“What's wrong with you? A little sea sick are ya?” laughed the captain as he took another swig of the wine. “Well cheer up. This is the piece that fancy talkin' bastard was looking for. Get us home safe and we'll all be rich as kings.”
“Aye captain! We'll hit land by sunrise.” responded Dmitri loudly.
“That's what I like to hear!” exclaimed Captain Olav with another hearty laugh before he exited the cabin again.
Outside the winds grew louder and the seas grew rougher. Inside Dmitri said a silent prayer to the Sway for safety. Dark clouds were all around him and his gut was warning him of danger and he'd learned long ago that his gut was rarely wrong.