Hooligan's Revival: The Sea

[Dirge]

Evil?

The word was often used as a brand, placed upon those that refused to conform to the strictures and guidelines of society. It was pushed and twisted into the face of any who did not conform, any which went against the grain and followed the path that they chose. Evil was a word often overused and always bordering cliché. Many people were called evil. But people such as the ‘wicked witch’ were often only called out and torn apart by the local mobs because they were afraid. What that evil woman did before sickness went through the town, helping a woman live through childbirth or even giving out medicine to heal the dying, often went forgotten when the blame needed to rest on someone.

But, despite the irrelevant use of the word, people continued to wield it like a weapon. Vigo was the newest target. The sharp tongued half-elf was labeled as evil, cruel, wicked. He had done very little, besides what he thought was best for himself, and that was where the world seemed to draw the line. Many would see the man and never once imagine him to be the cruel sort. His eyes were always a deep green, pulsating with thought. His hair was long, soft, and a deep brown color. His clothes set him up as nothing more than a mere traveler. In truth, all but his blackened cane made him the sort that would quickly blend in with any roving band.

The sorcerer, yet budding and always learning, had put himself ‘in league’ with the bandits and pirates that plundered and moved off the coast of Scara Brae. He full well knew what the bandits and pirates did, they plundered and stole. They were men of the dagger. Vigo knew they were ruthless. He knew they held intents for the opposite of ‘good’, and yet they had to make a living as well. The sorcerer was a realist, one who neither looked for the good or bad of anyone. He saw things the way they were, and how they were more than likely meant to be seen.

“You know where we’re headed… don’t ya?” Vigo turned to the man at his side. He was gruff, smelly, and most assuredly a mercenary. A scattering of random pieces of armor adorned his large figure. A few of the pieces looked to be from a collection of Scara Brae Knight’s armor, a sight that made a few people stay away from the man. Across his back he had a large sword, the pommel looked to be ill-kept and so Vigo assumed the sword was no different. All in all the sorcerer felt that the man would be useful, perhaps a strong tool against whatever may arise. “Wer’s going to see the pirate Gurtz Danager,” the man continued, “He’s suppos’d to be the big-wig around here.”

With a sigh the man turned back to peering over the boat’s edge. The water was lapping against the hull of the ship. Foam and spray splashed even higher, but never quite touched the half-elf. He sighed again and turned away from the spray and back to the middle of the boat. Others were assembled, apparently all people that were willing to work for the expanding Danager. Vigo let his jade eyes fall across the people present, waiting and watching for others that were open and easy to turn into little puppets for later.

Overhead the sun broke through a heavy cloud, piercing downwards to the rocky coastline. It would be hours till mid-day were upon the ship, but only a single hour till they would arrive at the Hooligan’s Grotto.

((This thread is very much open. I have some ideas, so just jump in and hang on… or send your own idea’s to me PM box. Thanks much amounts!))

[Ürei]

Evil.

Evil.

Very few people understood the word. Some assumed it was just a title to be labeled upon the victims that were scapegoats for the true troubles of a people. Yet, sometimes it wasn’t a label, nor a title, but a declaration. To be evil would be to go against the wave of society and break the propriety of morality and do as you wish, be truly free. Is this evil? No, but that is what people believe it to be. As one traveler stared over the waves in a melancholy slump, waiting for something he knew he wouldn’t like but had to do anyways, he may call himself a realist. Nobody in their right mind would intentionally proclaim themselves as evil, unless they were trying to intimidate someone or convince themselves. True evil, the chaotic force of destruction that cares nothing for personal gain but only the displeasure and misery of others, is something that is never spotted until too late. Just like the soft, kind, smiling Elf who talked gaily to another mercenary who had a similar interest in sewing.

“See, but the triple back-knot technique is very strong but if you do it wrong it can sometimes leave a bulge in the cross hatching and is unsightly. I would suggest trying just a simple tuck-and-swoop tie. It seems mundane and inept, yet it has never failed me!”

The Elf spoke with a light voice and smiled kindly, ensuring to be polite with every syllable. The beautifully roughened pirate to whom he spoke laughed and nodded, taking a mental note of the advice and thanking sincerely for the help. They shook hands and the Raiaeran held on for a moment too long, letting his hand caress the inside of the man’s palm as he let go, enjoying the texture of his rough skin. Surprised by this, the pirate grumbled a goodbye and uneasily edged away to talk about sharpening axes and the best way to go about pillaging an armed estate.

No fear lay in Dresden’s heart, though, being among these men who were all more despicable then the next. He had been picked up as a prisoner but when his sword sliced the throat of the innkeep and his eye was the one that noticed the tipped portrait that hid the estate’s wealth he was no longer a prisoner. Instead, he was a ‘mate’. Being reduced to a bandit wasn’t something he would readily be proud of, but neither was it an occupation far below his esteem.

Leir wouldn’t have let the bandits live.

Dresden smiled to himself, his eyes sweeping over the crowd assembled on the deck, anxious to get off and meet their new leader. Yes, that demon was dead, but somewhere deep inside the darkness still waited to come out. It had burrowed within him like a seed for now, retreating from the sharp bite of the sunlight’s caressing hands. At the first sign of darkness, it would rise again, changing him into what he should be. Until then, he was an Elf, and his name was Dresden Myrmidos…

And today he was a pirate! What fun!

[Dirge]

The half-elf moved through the rather crowded deck of the ship. People from all over the world of Althanas seemed to have come out for the promise of wealth and adventure. Vigo gave to each a soft sigh that suggested his boredom. Out of the corner of his eye the gruff mercenary that he had originally been talking with was moving on as well, pushing away from the railing and finding interested comrades to talk to. The sorcerer shook his head slightly and put the man in the back of his mind, safe keeping.

The half-elf left most of the people alone, eyeing only one other who looked to be more than half-elf. The man was impressive, giving off a feeling of power and promise. Vigo took in his aura for half a second before approaching him. He may have been something altogether too powerful to use as a tool, but he certainly seemed weak enough to have as a partner. The man shifted through the final group of mumbling would-be pirates, allowing his cane’s rap against the deck to announce his arrival.

“A fine day to be on the ocean,” the sorcerer said as he stood apart from the man just enough to not have to speak so loudly. Upon a closer inspection, Vigo noticed the man’s truly unique visage. His eyes were a soft, redish-honey coloration that glowed faintly. His hair was a deep black, streaked with silver, and starkly contrasted his lightly tanned skin tone. If he truly was an elf, as his ears and sleek body suggested, he was probably one of the Aleraran nation. Despite being a mixed breed of human and Raiaeran elf, Vigo looked upon the other as a distant cousin. “I am Vigo Drak Ruinn, half-elf if you could not already tell.”

The sorcerer extended a delicate, yet firm hand towards the man. It was a curt salutations, but one that would probably be the most important of any on the ship. “And you are?”

[Christoph]

The combination of the constant rocking and creaking of the small, old, wooden cargo ship against the waves and the fresh, salty smell of the sea both delighted and nauseated Chris at once. He sighed happily as he strode along the edge of the deck and looked out onto to rolling, shifting hills of the dark water. Even with the seasickness, being up on deck was still preferable than being down in the galley like he was during the day. Still, the captain had told him that he was doing rather well for having never been on a ship before.

Sure, the boat was rather small and rocked furiously in the waves, the work had been hard, and the crew wasn’t exactly friendly or possessing of any sort of social grace, but Chris could hardly complain about a free ride. It was free as far as coin goes, anyway. He talked his way into cleaning and working as a cook in their galley in exchange for free passage to the island of Scara Brae and back, as well as a small space in the ship’s cargo hold.

Chris wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of traveling that far, but his mother had struck some kind of deal with a grain supplier on the island. The bargain would help them to supply the tavern they ran without going through the expensive local merchants. He wasn’t exactly sure how his mother had managed to settle such an advantageous deal, although he had some ideas. Granted, he wasn’t quite convinced that he’d want to know the details anyway. Unfortunately, his mother had fallen ill several weeks prior and still didn’t have the strength to travel that far and work out the particulars and pick up the first shipment.

Therefore, Chris agreed to do it himself. On one hand, the thought of a going out into the world was a bit daunting for him, having lived in a small town his entire life, traveling only to neighboring towns, or a city on rare occasions. On the other metaphorical hand, he would be able to see new things, meet new people, and learn from whatever experiences travel would bring. He gazed out at the horizon, watching the red morning sun climb into the sky like a great beacon of mystery and hope, the look in his eyes both intimidated and excited.

[Ürei]

There weren’t really all too many people on this vessel who were worthwhile. Most of the pirates were petty thugs who knew nothing more about their weapons then to hit someone with the sharp parts. While others, he could sense, were possibly skilled but hiding things within. Among those he could feel even a hint of power from, a Half Elf who, from the cocky expression he had, probably thought that Dresden was an Elf, approached. Clothing that were better then rags but not those of a rich noble adorned his moderately handsome body; definitely within the money range of someone who needed a job like this. However, there were probably other intentions hiding under that face. Anyone who had even a bit of Elven blood in his or her veins could never be trusted.

Unfortunately, the halfling sided up near Dresden and made some random comment. It was barely heard and fell on deaf ears. When he introduced himself the name went down unconsciously as a mental note, for this was one of the few on this ship that would truly matter. A hand was offered, and a request of a name. For a moment, almost forgetting his ruse, he would about to deny the hand. Remembering that he was supposed to be a kind Elven Ranger, he smiled lightly and as honestly as he could manage in his mood and shook his hand delicately. Strangely, a slight tingling ran up the Elf’s hand when he touched the halfing. Lingering in the embrace for a moment, he let go and then smiled again before speaking.

“My name is Dresden Myrmidos, Half-Human. Glad to be made of your acquaintance.” Nodding kindly, he glanced out over the waves to the land that they were slowly approaching. It couldn’t come any sooner, but his wait would still be a bit longer. Hoping that some strange wind would catch the sails and whisk them upon land, he found himself sourly disappointed. Sighing, he returned his gaze to the halfling and tried to speak something idly.

“Yes, fine day. Not quite as nice as the forests, but the mild wind is fine still. These brutes are beginning to smell, though.”

Grinning mischievously, Dresden waved his hand in front of his nose and turned away from the nearest of the said men. If only the night was here…they’d all be dead. I’d rip them apart, one by one, and listen to their screams. Damn them, damn their mortal stench. Holding in a groan he let his gaze fall off into nothingness again, not really looking at anything in particular. Listening in case the halfling, Vigo, decided to keep trying at a conversation.

[Dirge]

The boat rocked under the tumult of a sudden wave. With it the crew and passengers rocked, some slipping and falling. It was obvious who the stalwart were, who would be useful on the ship, and who would become land-loving slaves of the infamous pirate. Vigo was one of the many that remained afoot, standing his ground despite the sudden wave.

As the wave moved past the other, Dresden, removed his hand from their embrace. The half-elf sorcerer gave the man another look over, noticing something different but unable to pin-point it. Of course, everyone had something particularly different about them on Althanas… none were without their follies and foibles, and yet none seemed to be without a certain skill at weapons and an ingenious magical attack either. Vigo shrugged aside his gentle ponderings, leaving him with little option but to gaze blankly outward.

The sun was already gaining height, time had passed quickly. The water sparkled like a thousand diamonds, though the heavy blue darkness of the depths put a stop to the attraction for the half-elf. He was never one for the ocean. ‘Let the fish swim and the birds fly, I’ll stick to the land,’ he would say, and by the gods he would live by that. However, when times called for it, he always did what needed to be done. If the times called for him to load up on a boat in order to vie for an ally in the powerful, growing armada of a pirate captain, then so be it.

“The forests…” Vigo mumbled as he toyed with the wooden rail. Elves of the forests were always foolhardy and reckless, giving attention and devotion to spirits and nature instead of material needs. They were ridiculous. Dresden did not look ridiculous, at least the sorcerer didn’t think so, and maybe he just enjoyed the nature. “Serene, and I’d prefer the land to the water anyway.”

Vigo turned towards a grunt, obviously one of the hands did not take kindly to the comment that Dresden had made. The half-elf could care less though; the man was human and dirty. He only took offense because it was true. “We should be nearing land soon enough,” the half-elf said as he watched the disgruntled deck-hand shuffle away.

“And then what?” he thought as he allowed his jade eyes to scan the crowded boat. “Then I join a crew with dingy people and these fools? For what, a promise of gold and riches? I need something more, something more interesting at least…”

“Ahoy!” From overhead the lookout in the crows nest cried. Even from the deck the people could make out which way he pointed. Vigo never looked up, but instead towards the way he knew the pirates would be. Eventually all others turned as well. “Hooligans Grotto!”

[Christoph]

After a long trip, the ship that Christopher was traveling on finally reached it's port of destination at Scara Brae. The sun had just set, casting a river of golden light over the sea. The steady waves sloshed back and forth, seeming to echo under the evening sky.

Chris walked down the ramp with a hop in his step. The ship wouldn't be leaving for another ten days. Who knows, perhaps he would see something interesting during his stay.


OOC> I'm withdrawing from this RP for the time being. The pace seems a bit slow at the moment, and it'll probably be a while before my character will come into play. I don't want to be stuck here for that time. He'll be out on the sea again soon, though, as my post suggested, and I'll be returning to the RP. I'll see you then. :)

[Ürei]

The wave that surged the boat didn’t catch Dresden off guard, and he couldn’t help but grin wider as the man whose hand he was shaking did not fall. Meanwhile, the brute that was disquieted by his remark did crash to the ground rather noisily, cursing and stumbling as he tried to regain his balance. A pirate would never fell, nor would an Elf. It was far below their dignity to show such a clumsy weakness. This ‘elf’ found gratification hidden somewhere inside that the halfling before him had at least stolen that much of the Elven heritage. He couldn’t wait to find out what else hid under those dark eyes.

As the grasp was released, Dresden’s mind wandered. Touching on his home, deep in the destroyed darkness of Antioch. Hidden deep beneath the ground, and protected by a cursed labyrinth that lived and breathed and devoured any unlucky victim who strode into its domain. The Samhein was coming, it would be soon, and when it did come, he would be there. Reclaiming his home and taking his place back among the great leaders of that dark guild. Until then, he must find worthy creatures that would lead with him. Some small potential, almost insubstance, lay in this halfling. A strong will radiated from him, and showed in almost every movement. If the demon could find the darkness in the human side of his heart, it would be a simple matter to pull and tug until a hook was latched. Then this Vigo would be his.

Only if he is worthy…of course…

At that moment, Dresden decided he had a new goal to this trip. The pirates of Scara Brea meant nothing to him, they were a band of squabbling simpletons who couldn’t think past their smaller heads and their avarice. Avarice was good for pawns, but not warriors. They would betray you without a second thought for someone who paid more, useless, utterly incompetent trash. Instead, this ‘Elf’ had a new target. It might just be worth the time he had already wasted.

Just as he turned towards the front of the ship, which he had forgotten the name of; Dresden saw a looming landmass rising up before them. Even from where he stood he could tell it would stink there, the human stench that one never really could purge from your clothing. Pathetic creatures, they were, but sometimes useful. Maybe more suitable candidates could be found there, ones that maybe could be made heartless if given the right tug. Speaking only loud enough for the halfling to hear, Dresden mumbled in the fluid Raiaeran language.

“I Weal`a Eambar…”

(The Fools' Home)

[Blackwhisker]

Rolling water, wood creaks and groans, the skittering of rats down here in the cargo hold and the occasional gruff voice or grunt from far away. All the lovely sounds that the young Skuugra has been listening to the whole time she’s been sat down here, cramped in a cage she’d somehow managed to find herself within. An explanation of how she managed to find herself in such a situation would be nice, but really, there’s very little to be done about it at this point. So she’s here, stuck where she is and waiting for the circumstances to change so she’s no longer confined in such a cramped little space. Some time ago she gave up actually trying to free herself, the metal bars are more than strong enough to contain her and she hasn’t the knowledge to realize anything about locks to do something about them so she remains where she is impatiently waiting for something to happen.

There’s more noise above and the young seadragon creature looks up to the planks some distance above her head. So what’s going on now? Does this mean something’s going to happen? Because really she is quite bored with this whole thing. You can only do so much when it’s almost constantly dark and the scenery doesn’t change. Admittedly at least she has the option of scenery now, when she’d awoken originally it had just been complete darkness as there’d been a tarpaulin pitched over the cage to keep any of those with sticky beaks from seeing what was within. That hadn’t lasted very long once she’d awoken and realized it could be moved. Now there wasn’t really too much left of the covering that had made the world such a dark place for those few moments. Slashed tatters scattered about the nearby flooring was about it.
One activity she could possibly of tried was counting rats but that generally isn’t even a prospect when you don't actually have the required skill of being able to count in the first place and well, really, who wants to count food you can’t reach? It’s just a cruel sort of self torture.
But with that noise perhaps we have some prospects of things becoming different. Sounds closer at claw and she turns her head off towards the steep stairway that leads up to the world above, ear fins fanning out to listen to the sounds with curiosity. Ooo.. visitors? Maybe they’ve got food? She really could do with something to eat. The rat’s have avoided her cage since she grabbed the first one that came too close and she hasn’t had the opportunity to eat anything else since. Her stomach’s up for complaining about such treatment.

Garbled voices in gruff tones are caught on the air as two large figures appear in her line of sight and she watches their movements not understanding a word of what’s being said. Neither body does she recognizes from anywhere, but then most two footers look the same to her. They’re carrying that smell though, that horrible funk all the ones she’s come into contact with since being put in the cage seem to have. Not the nicest of smells either and her short muzzle wrinkles up in distaste. Dirt, sweat, grubby flesh and salt. Really, do they all need to be so foul? The air in the cargo hold is bad enough without them making it worse.

It takes a while before her own little cage is spotted by the two wandering figures and one comes over to investigate what’s inside the metal bars. Before they’re too close the man starts scrambling away yammering something or other in excitable tones, pointing and waving his arms about as he tries to explain something to the other man. Blackwhisker blinks somewhat to this.. What? She hasn’t done anything, she’s just sitting there, not doing anything what so ever and here’s this two footer going on like she just raided the henhouse. (A perfectly enjoyable endeavor she finds to be generally frowned upon by the taller creatures.)

A hiss and a growl as the second man ignoring his companion’s comments comes up closer to her cage and bends over to peer in. Now does he really have to be that close? She backs up a little as much as possible in the confined space she’s got available. Lips drawing back to show off rows of the backfacing ivory spikes as her nose wrinkles up more at being so strongly accosted by the foul smell of the man. She doesn’t like the look of this man either, his face is all pudgy and filled with craters, there’s teeth missing, his breath almost smells worse than the rest of him and there’s just something about the creature that makes her scales rankle. The fact he starts laughing and waving for his friend to come back over doesn’t help things. At least the other one doesn’t seem to agree with the sentiment and is remaining at a distance. Blackwhisker can't honestly tell herself she could keep calm with two of the smelly fleshbags leering in at her so closely.

Finally she’s picking up some words and ‘small’ seems to be a primary one amongst all the yammer. She doesn’t like that. Blackwhisker is not small! Sure she’s only a third grown as far as her species goes, a fact she doesn’t know, but she is most definitely not small! Well.. sort of. She only stands the height of a ten year old child when there’s the room to do so but she’s got length to make up for that and quite a bit of weight in the muscle, bone and scale that makes up her hide. She snorts and makes a swipe at the face leering in at her.

A curse from the stinky two footer as he grabs at his face, reeling back away from the cage he lashes a foot out to the side of the cage with a nasty kick. A rather stupid move as well, it’s good solid metal and he just ends up hurting himself further. Blackwhisker continues to bare her teeth, hissing at the man as he stumbles back towards his companion, curses streaming out under his breath as he eyes off the young seadragon creature in her cage. Really, what kind of moron cages a Skuugra for anything? They’re unpredictable, self serving, vicious creatures who are just as likely to turn on you as the enemy you're supposedly working together against. Evidently someone somewhere thought they could get something from bartering the monster off. Not the smartest, but not the stupidest prospect as long as it’s done right. You really don’t see young ones ever and one could assume that like any other young creatures they’re impressionable and can be taught to act differently than if they were brought up by the usual methods. A novel idea, one that needs to be tested to be found out really.

Anywho. Casting last glances to the cage the two men go back to looking for what they’d originally intended coming down into the cargo hold for. Giving the Skuugra a wide berth as they do so. The one with the gash more than of a mind to give the young seadragon a good one over the head for what it did to his face, but he can’t be certain who lays claim to the cage and what lays within or what the ramifications for such actions would be, probably not worth the trouble.

Done with their own business the two head back up the stairs to the world above. One forgetting his tongue and complaining quite vocally over allowing a monster on board the ship, something that couldn’t possibly be good by any sort of superstitious logic. The other merely nodding in agreement before giving one last glance back towards where the cage sits in the shadows of the hold before following after.

A dull thud of wood on wood as the hatch is once more closed keeps further sounds of the two men from reaching Blackwhisker and she finally goes about relaxing a little. Well that wasn’t really all that eventful. They didn’t bring food and they didn’t let her out. They just made lots of noise, prodded about, made more noise and left.
A heavy sigh from the young creature as she goes about resettling herself in the little space she has and waits still longer for her life to become that bit more interesting. Ear fins remain somewhat perked, fanning out and listening as she keeps her head tilted so she can hear better of what’s going on up above through the roofing above. There does seem to be an awful lot of noise going on up there. Maybe that means life will become more interesting sooner rather than later.


<< OOC: Well it says open and yes, something different! *waves* :>>

[Dirge]

"The fools home..." the words of the other elf made the corners of Vigo's lips curl into a sneer. Fools was the most apt and appropriate name for those that accompanied him on the boat, and for those that waited on the shore. Even the half-elf knew that all villains eventually came to an end in their short, overly eventful lives. There were too many 'good guys' that roamed Althanas. There were too many 'heroes' that claimed they could slay dragons and save princesses. Petty thieves on an ocean surrounding the smallest of the countries of Althanas would be little trouble. "Fools they may be, but through them I will be able to assume power."

To the halfling, people who could not think beyond the next day (if even that) were but tools. Whatever pathetic gods had created existence had made people like the sorcerer accidentally, no doubt. If one could simply turn a phrase and place the right look in the right place he too could become a 'god'. Vigo knew that all too well. It was because of that that his belief in gods was often forgotten and had never been a pivotal part of his childhood.

"Fuckin' monster, if I knew who itd belon'd to Idda beat it." Two men were walking laboriously from the depths of the ship. As they exited the cargo hold and dropped the hatch after them, they continued muttering about the 'monster' which apparently resided within. Vigo was not necessarily one to question the stupidity of others, often shrugging it off and leaving it for others to deal with, but something about their tone caught his interest. Neither sounded as if they were intoxicated. Both seemed adamant in word, and their hands were just starting to relax and stop quivering. "What do you suppose it is?"

"Hells if I know," the second man said as he shifted with the others into a rather large crowd. The men on the ship had all moved towards where the plank would be lowered and where the exit would be. Excited as they were, Vigo was the complete opposite. His interest was perked about the monster, and the last place he wanted to be was tight against the damned pawns. "Seems the ship has ears," the man said, "Lets leave it at that."

The first man, just before diving into the mottled pack, turned and gave the sorcerer a vile look. If it had not been for them being supposed allies, the half-elf would have removed his eyes then and there. Instead, he just turned away and waited as the ship came inot a very small harbor.

From over the head of the cluster of would-be pirates Vigo could see very little. What he could make out was not all that bad, but definitely not civilized. Shards and fragments of old ships comprised most of the landscape. They were all the building blocks for the small army of pirates that seemed to be doing nothing more than milling about. Houses, taverns, shops, and all forms of other city like dwellings were scattered about the carved out grotto.

Towards the rear, far in the recesses of one of the most massive caves Vigo had ever seen, was a large Scarabrian warship. Along either side of it were two more, both much smaller. Above most of it was the cave like dome that appeared to have been started as a natural grotto and then further torn apart by human hands.

The sneering half-elf spun his cane in anticipation and looked to the other elf. If the picture he was getting was what was waiting for him, it would be very interesting indeed. "A fools home indeed..."

No worries blackwhisker, welcome to the thread. Sorry for not responding, I had unfortunately forgotten about the thread for a little bit. You can just do what you want and we'll meet up somehow. If something's not working out, just PM me and I'll see what I can do.

[Taskmienster]

This thread has been sitting for a full year. Since no response has been made to create activity I am going to be moving this. If you would like it to be reopened please feel free to PM myself or another admin and they will be able to move it for you back to Scara Brae.