Thread: Theft, Treason, and Adultery

This is the foreground of my book, expect many additions and edits. PLEASE post any responsescriticismpraise here viewtopic.php?f20t11312 I don't want people to have to play find my posts if it gets popular. I want this to be nice and organized and easy for people to read through. 'tis glorious, no? Sea-spray upon the stubble... The question was asked to any ears that happened to be listening, but none in particular. The words came from a throat hoarse from days of trying to keep a ship full of convicts afloat and intact against the fury of the seas, and seemingly god himself. But, for all the struggle, all the pain, and the few gunshot wounds the end had justified the means. Where they were, Nobody knew for sure. Somewhere south by south-east of the mainland, leagues away from the court and the crown. Perhaps if there were a few lasses, and a bit more alcohol it could be called paradise... The sounds of knees knocking against floorboards and then heavy wrenching quickly dismissed any thoughts of the situation being close to paradise. Apparently not all of the rag-tag crew had managed to find their sea legs. That or they'd managed to drink themselves sick again. But, the crying of gulls and the beautiful sight of stretch upon stretch of calm sea was a pleasant reminder that freedom, no matter where always beat captivity. Glorious, hardly...Refreshing, yes. Dante, I think prison pushed your mind out of focus. A second man answered, stepping up to catch a view of the sun as it pushed it's golden fingers over the horizon, stretching out to seize hold of the sky and put the happenings of another day in motion. So how exactly did you manage to stage this entire escape? And who's help did you have? The man called Dante asked, looking to his companion with eyes full of disbelief. Funny story...I guess I'll start from the beginning... The other responded. Seven days prior. Most of the harbor was silent in the tranquility of the setting sun, save for the sounds echoing out from the doorless entry to the massive port's most popular tavern, the Mermaid's Garters. Music and snatches of conversation slipped out from the establishment, sounds strange enough to draw any who passed over the threshold for at least one drink. When they did, they were greeted by a wide but short hallway, with an ascending stair-case to the right, and a trap door that lead to a large wine cellar to the left. Naturally, the trap door was secured by a heavy padlock...Though, whispers could be heard coming from down below. Or, perhaps the tavern really was as haunted as local rumor made it out to be. Timber floor-boards, as waxed and polished as could be for the center of the harbor's night life held up sturdy to the boots of many. The main dining room of the tavern was massive, easily thirty yards long by fifteen yards wide. Booths stretched from wall out on the right and left sides, flanking a middle row of circular tables surrounded by solid stools. Five women of varying builds, from short and comely to tall and round made their way quickly across the floor, seeing to the needs of guests as they were vocalized. In the rear right corner of the establishment a burly man stood in a black wool shirt and a long stained apron, busy whistling in tune to the night's performer as he wiped down recently washed glasses, fresh from the kitchen. A shelf of kegs sat behind him, only a few of the oaken vessels tapped for enjoyment. The clattering of dishes and bubbling of boiling stews could be heard more and more clearly as one drew closer to the swinging doors that hid the bustling kitchen from view. Most eyes were fixed upon a man clad in a frayed but colorful patchwork outfit, who nimbly danced as he played out merry tunes on a flute. Settled beside him on a stool was a short man with a stomach nearly as large as the lone drum on the floor in front of him, beating out a steady rhythm as he chanted amusing songs that border-lined vulgarity in their clever rhymes. Amongst the chatter, the singing, the shouting, and the cries for more ale a lucrative deal was being hurriedly discussed in urgent whispers over a pair of pints. Did you manage to get the deed? The question came swiftly from the lips of a pale man with tangled raven locks that hung down to his collarbone, dark strands helping to obscure his face. Do you even need to ask? Of course I did. The question is, what's the price you'll give me for it? Or even better, what do you intend to sell it for? A swift reply, coming from a slender woman who was doing her best to keep her head down, and the hood of her cloak close to her cheeks. She kept her chin up and centered in the middle of her palm, tapping her lip idly with the center-stone of a gleaming opal ring, knowing she was about to recieve an answer. As I said, forty crowns. And what my cut of the sale is just happens to be no business of yours. You'd be hard pressed to put such a prize on display without a sturdy fence. The man replied in a low growl, obviously lacking the patience to play the crimson haired woman's games. Always to the business with you Kass, it's a wonder you have troubles finding yourself a lady. The words were given with the slightest hint of a giggle, it was obvious the roguish female enjoyed getting a rouse out of her client. When the woman had finished speaking She took a sip from her drink, grimacing slightly at the bitter flavor of the beverage. Forty crowns was quite a taking, though of course it was always nice to negotiate a little more before the final delivery. Unfortunately, it looked like tonight was a night where she'd only get paid what had originally been agreed on, no matter how much charm she laid on. It's best for one to try and keep any sordid deals involving the property of disgraced noble houses as brief as possible. Of course, that's a lesson you'll learn in time Demira. Yet again the man's response was gruff. With a nod the two parties dropped a pair of small burlap sacks, one at the left foot, the other at the right. Then the goods were transferred via two swift kicks, the sound of coins clattering together sealing the deal. The male bent down and retrieved the small sack, slipping it into a pocket of the thick brown cloak he kept pulled tight around his shoulders. The woman merely sighed as she tethered the coin-purse to her belt, taking a moment to settle back against the warm-furs of her own covering, though it was truly more of a hooded lengthened shawl. For a moment the woman allowed her eyes to linger on her own young face, reflected by the polished steel surface of her mug. Wise and traveled beyond her years, it was hard to believe that the accomplished burglar was not older than seventeen winters. Fair skin, long red curls, slender hips and a prominent chest betrayed the age her cunning eyes did their best to hide. She tilted her head slightly as she looked over to her companion, somewhat unsettled by his brooding silence. The man was generally rather loud and boisterous, those azure eyes of his always filled with some wondrous dream or elaborate scheme. However, on this night they were sullen and dull, weighed down by some trouble that no triumph could lighten. She nearly spoke, but instead she stifled her questions by just examining his familiar face. A sharp jaw and high cheek bones, with thin lips that were normally curled into a devilish grin, Kass was usually quite charming. However, the serious disposition definitely did not flatter his handsome face. There was no hint of enticing intrigue in the way he sat, despite the glimpse of his toned figure it offered. Everything about his mannerisms said get away, and so she obliged with a sigh, laying down a pair of silver coins on the table to cover the drinks. Either get some sleep, or drink yourself cheery. You're stupid when you're angry, and we both know it.