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Unread 09-27-2005, 12:30 AM   #1
Rhiya Ravenwing
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Default Skies of Archana: Trouble at Lyra Island

((OOC: And so it begins!))

Taverns. Whether it is on the shores of famous Mype, or by the busy streets in Solar, all welcome weary travelers, merry drinkers, and troublemakers inside for a rest, a drink, and maybe some food. But not all of them are well-known. Some, like The Violet Phoenix, host well-mannered folk of rich descendent, serve the best ale in Archana, and have a live band of musicians and entertainment for those that could afford the costly, comfortable lifestyles.

Others, like The Frigid Ass [OOC: donkey. Not the other one], are not so known for their offers. More so, they are infamous for being pirate dens and thieves’ corners. They are a place where normal folk shun and the shady characters dwell, where the best ale is served at knifepoint, a few coppers can get a barmaid into your lap, and the glint of gold can loosen one’s tongue.

~~

Off the skyline shores of Marw, on one of the lesser islands of Archana, The Silver Thorn tavern hummed merrily away in the fading twilight, gradually filling with weary travelers, fat merchants who dare not venture into the skies at night for fear of pirates, and thieves and lowly criminals in disguise.
Outside, dragons puffed gently and contentedly away, munching their fodder (luckily, dragons of Archana are surprisingly vegetarian. It could be said that it is because of their need to fuel their primary weapon.), their riders having a good rest within. The day had been eventful, with more than the average ships either in dock or pulling in for the night.

The last merchant ship to dock at Lyra Island came in under the shadows of night. A Baraccan-styled ship through and through, her new coat of white and gold glittered in the firelight as the Silver Lily (her name painted in bold black across its hull) pulled in quietly. If it weren’t for the fact that all merchant ships were strangely mute during the night, suspicions would’ve been aroused at the Silver Lily wallowing in the port as she unloaded her cargo of 15 passengers.

One of the last of the 15 to leave the Silver Lily was a tall figure silhouetted against the lanterns on board. Moving at a leisurely gait, the figure descended the planks and turned a hooded head to either side. A few of the straggler port helpers paused in their cleaning to glance inquisitively at the stranger. Some turned back to finishing their job almost immediately, nodding to themselves. The stranger had a rich, musky smell with a hint of metallic copper, an easily recognizable scent for the draconic race. Not to mention, they noted, that the figure moved at a stately walk. The draconic screamed rich, and was possibly the captain of the new ship.

One of the Port hands, a fellow draconic, turned a baleful red eye on the descending dragon and sniffed.
“Miss,” he rumbled, his voice low and grating. The figure stopped and turned. A pair of slitted, violet-grey eyes regarded him curiously, “I take it that it’s yer first ship,” he continued, oblivious to the piercing gaze.
“Yes, it so happens also to be my first ride without wings,” the melodious, metallic voice issued in perfect, aristocratic Archanan.
“Then ye best be warned, miss, that these skies are dangerous at night. Ye don’t go sailing about without an escort fleet in case of,” the baleful eye darted around nervously, before the name was fearfully whispered, “Blood Mask.”
“Blood Mask?”
“Aye. Blood Mask the Devious, miss. She’s bin terrorizing this part of the skies fer over ten years. She’s boldest at night, miss, and sometimes even attacks the shores of Marw! If ye know what’s best fer ye, miss, don’t set sail too late tomorrow, and see if ye can find some Fys Faction protection,” the draconic port hand rolled up his ropes and moved away.
He did not notice the small smile playing on the lady draconic’s lips, though, nor the sudden, wicked flash of violet-grey eyes. He didn’t see, either, the direction she turned was not towards the well-known, rich, three-storey Silver Thorn tavern where the sounds of laughter and merrymaking was well under way, but to where the shore-side road led to the infamous Black Muskrat Inn. Striding gracefully down the path, the metallic black, unmarked draconic passed a patrolling guard who merely shot her a suspicious look, before passing on. On islands like this, they don’t get paid enough to be vigilant.

((OOC: for those that don’t have ships, they start on Lyra Island. For those that do have ships, they may be docked at Lyra island, or coming in with merchant ships under the veil of darkness. Pirates have a choice of remaining offshore on ships or secretly on the island already. And for those that haven’t figured it out already, the Silver Lily IS one of Praeyr’s ships in disguise.))
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Unread 09-27-2005, 05:14 AM   #2
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"Alright you sky scabs! I want the ship shut and locked up. Triple zip like a whip!" The short man bellowed with a voice surprising to his size. The crew of scalawags, cutthroats and thieves, worked their magic. Bringing the cannons in and locking down all the secret hatches that had been rigged up over the years. "Jim swabbie! Pull off the letters. The reviled Flying Squirrel can't pull into a harbor peaceably, but the ' Lying Quirr ' has never been met with a frightened face! And don't forget to hide the marks this time!" He said loudly, the boy had forgotten once and they had ended up having to fight off more ships then he would have liked.

Edward snapped a hand out to his right and caught a man by his foxy ear as he was coming out from below deck. "Ali me boy I want you takin the other flag up and changin our colors. Our flag is likely to scare the very pants off the broke town folk. And their money is to meager to be taking their pants away with it."

"But 'Mon First'" The Foxy man began, using the crews nick name for him. "It's not my job it's Roy's."

"Late to the rise, up to the skies I say! You're last up, so off you go pup." Edward handed the man a flag and pushed him off to the ropes to climb to the top and replace the flag.

Edward continued to watch his crew scramble about, hollering orders and pointing stern metal wrapped fingers at his men. He knew they could do it just as well if he gave the order and took a nap, but he wasn't that kind of First. Besides with this group of perfidious crew, you can't keep your hands off for too long. And the crew knew he wasn't all spittle and snaps. He could fight like a dervish, and find plunder like he had put it there himself.

Edward was also the kind of man who enjoyed using words in interesting ways. He had created hundreds of sayings over the years on the ship. It was rare to find a pirate as well spoken as he was. Even if he did slur, and have a poor sky accent.

************************************************** **************

When the ship was ready he blew his whistle and all the man scurried and scampered into formation on the deck. Save for Roy who stood at attention in his crows nest, and the Chef Hogsworth who was no doubt listening at his deck tube. "Captain on deck you swindling souls!" He shouted as he himself stood at attention to his captain emerging slowly from the doorway.
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Unread 09-27-2005, 06:10 AM   #3
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It was a good day at the Silver Thorn. Business was excellent and the mood generally jolly, as the front door swung open with a whining of unoiled hinges. Very few people glanced up to see who had entered. Most who did quickly took in the figure in loose linnen and old leather, bearing a saber at his side, then just as quickly lost interest. However this new arrival made eye contact with one old man who was already far along the road to inebriation. The old drunkard slacked his jaw, blinked, looked again, then shook himself off, looking dubiously at the pewter mug in his hands before quickly downing the rest.

Havoc smirked. There was always one who noticed the eyes. Havoc strode up to the bar, his sheath jingling by his side as he walked, then took a seat on one of the stools.

"Give me something light with, with flavor. I figure this ought to cover my tab for the night," he said, releacing his hand and allowing a silver coin to hit the counter. The bar tender eyed him a bit distrustfully and turned to his work. A few seconds later the coins dissapeared and a mug of a golden-brown ale was placed before him.

Havoc picked it up and took a long swig before placing it delecately down on the table and breathing a deep sigh. "Good stuff, that," he said gratefully.

"Where'd you get the kind of money you can throw around like that?" the bar tender asked, rubbing a mug with an old rag. "You don't seem dressed so well for a merchant."

"Mercenary work. Guarding merchant caravans and the like. With the skies like they are these days, and Blood Mask ravaging these parts, it pays pretty damn well. I'd be suprised if you could make a better living in piracy than freelance work against it. At least with my line of work, you can safely spend what you earn."

The bartender grunted and turned his back, with the pretext of dusting the bottles on the shelf behind him, obviously disinterested.

Havoc smirked silently to himself and shook his head, then took another long swig. His family curse dictated he probably wouldn't have long to enjoy it, which either meant another job was about to pop up, or that he was going to once again cross paths with Monkey-boy. He hoped it was the second, secretly. He hadn't seen that old scallywag Paul for what seemed like ages. And his voyages aboard the Flying Squirrel had always been interesting, to say the least.
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Last edited by Lycanthrope; 09-27-2005 at 06:12 AM.
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Unread 09-27-2005, 07:00 AM   #4
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Lyta walked quietly through the darkening streets of Lyra island, staff at her side, Makei, her intellegent raven familiar, perched atop, and their bodyguard, Rin, following behind. Lyta had just finished seeing an acquitance of hers, an alchemist, and assisted him in his latest synthesis experiement. The man's calculations had been ever so slightly off, and the resulting solution had, rather than turned into a healing potion, been rather potently acidic. Luckily, noone was hurt... Except Makei who, fortunately for him, is a magical creature.

The sorceress took a moment to browse the Lyran general store, hoping the small island might have spell components in stock, but alas, she must have been pressing her luck to think such.

During the last daylight hours, the three of them, Lyta, Makei, and Rin, wearily entered the Silver Thorn. Lyta strode up to the bar, preparing to order a meal for herself and her companions.

"Ahem. I'd not suppose they'd serve non-human food here, hmm?" Makei asked sarcastically, flicking one of his wings casually as he remained balanced upon Lyta's staff. The bartender looked suprised at the idea of a talking raven, but Makei always demanded the same respect as anyone else, of which Lyta had not discerned to be a virtuitious trait of his. "What? Haven't you seen a talking raven before?"

"Silence, Makei." Lyta said, raising a finger as if threatening to dismiss the unruly familiar, "I'm sure we'll work something out."

Lyta looked to Rin with a smile, "Well, you're supposed to look out for my well-being, so how about you order?" handing off the responsibility of ordering a meal.
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Last edited by PhoenixFlame; 09-27-2005 at 07:15 AM.
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Unread 09-27-2005, 07:32 AM   #5
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Havoc looked up at the new arrivals. He gestured at Makei with his chin. "Bird has a lot of lip for someone without any, if you get my meaning."
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Unread 09-27-2005, 07:54 AM   #6
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"You could eat an eyeball," Rin mused. "I hear all the cool ravens do that."

"Which one? You only need one, you know."

Rin ignored him and pulled up a seat, then grimaced as her hand came away laden with sticky fluids.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say this was a hive of scum and villainy masquerading as an establishment for beverages. Unfortunately I do, and I am forced to say this is par for the course."

Lyta chuckled, flicking her staff to the side, Makei stumbling off and just barely managing flight before she finished a cantrip spell, removing the dirt and grime from the ill-maintained table in a simple gesture.

"Inns. They're never clean..."

The raven fluttered clumsily and tried to get back to its familiar perch on Lyta's staff.

"Would you at least HINT at when you're going to do that!"

Rin raised an eyebrow. The spell had been effective. But not THAT effective. She nudged a crusty mug out of the way before pulling up a (mostly) dry seat for Lyta.

"Some things, magic can't do..."

"...for everything else, there's lightning bolts!"

Rin glared at him out of the corner of her eye. It was a glare that managed to take, "Shut your mouth," and "Talking is hazardous to your health" and roll it into a momentary flash of the eyes.

"Yeesh, relax a bit, will you?"

"Whatever."

Rin walked up to the bartender.

"An unopened bottle of wine. And a clean glass."

She paused for a moment before adding,

"Please."

Last edited by Dante; 09-27-2005 at 08:08 AM.
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Unread 09-27-2005, 08:18 AM   #7
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"Greetings, my fellow pirates." As he stepped forward slipping out from under the darkness, he spoke slowly, seeming to echo from underneath his oversized billowing hat. "After all, we be pirates." He spoke faster now as he moved past the crew, his bare primate feet slapping softly against the wooden deck. "Let us take apart that word shall we. Pie - Rats. We are but figuritive rats, save for John Finks there, who is an actual were-rat."

The crew silently turn to John, he stands still for a moment before grimacing and waving the crew back towards the captain. "But this isn't about Finks." The captain said solemnly, "This be about what we do for a living, we steal. We find what others have and make it our own, we bite away at the pie of life because we are mere pathetic rats, Save for John Finks there whom is a rat-man."

The crew again looks to John, his gimace grew steadily worse as he waved a hand back towards the captain. "Again, this isn't about Finks, today. Today, on this day, we rest. We give up chasing that pie in the sky, to enjoy the crust we've procured for ourselves after so much risk, suffering, and pain. So today we are not chasing pie, because we be not rats. Save for John Finks there, whom is in fact a rat."

John looks as if he is cursing silently now, quickly waving the crew towards the captain once more. "Once again, this is about us, and not Finks there. Today, we are merely merchants, and sailors moving from port to port. Make sure to throw away your murderous desire, your thieving method to acquire, and of course," As the captain speaks he begins to meander behind the closest mast, drifting from the crews view as he spoke, "To make a good impression. We must put on our best faces." Stepping back into view with a now human foot slapping firmly on the deck, "So lets nots keep the people of Lyra waiting. The Lying Curr needs to make a quick stop."

A nearly blushing Edward runs forward and whispers something in the captains ear, which causes the captain to blurt out angrily, "What in the four bloody hells is a Quirr?"
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Unread 09-27-2005, 08:23 AM   #8
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"You got the dodgy table, I take it," a melodious, draconic voice remarked from the bar next to Rin. Rin got the whiff of light, metallic musk that marked the drake as female, smaller than average, but nevertheless just as pheromonious. As Lyta's personal guard turned, she met the cool green eyes of a metallic blue, unmarked draconic, her scales darker than the night sky, yet unmistakeably blue, with that odd, steely sheen. Her dark wings were hung about her shoulders like a second cloak, the hood of her actual cloak loose across her neck.

In her clawed hands, she caressed the sides of a pint of Honey Mead, the golden liquid already half-empty. Even as Rin noted all these things, the drake's lips curled into a friendly smile, and the cool eyes creased harmlessly.

"Bring your friends up to the bar. The seats are cleaner, you get better service, and you tend to attract less unwelcome attention when you're around draconics. That is, of course, if you don't mind flourishing the kind of magic that could warrant even more unwelcome attention. M’name’s Arrpey, by the way,” she nodded warmly to the two seats beside her, naturally empty, what with the way her tail kept flicking about. Nobody wanted to risk sitting on a draconic’s tail.

Hmph, Praeyr thought privately while she waited for a response, thank the gods for anagrams. I wonder how Allaya is going?
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Unread 09-27-2005, 08:30 AM   #9
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"Once I get some food and drink in me, I'll come find you and we can make the rest of the trip."
"Ah. Yes."
The merchant went inside his ship to "set things in order" while Aylith was left to her own devices. Truth be told, she was kinda hungry, too. But taverns...
"I hope I don't become some victim of a drunken brawl gone horribly wrong."
"You say somethin'?"
Aylith turned back to the merchant ship where the voice of the merchant came from.
"No, I'm just talking to myself," she answered.
"Yeah, I hear you magicians tend to do that a lot."
"Ha ha," Aylith drolled and set her wand on its end. Then she let it fall. The business end was pointing to the Silver Thorn. Aylith shrugged, picked up the wand, and ventured inside. There was a burly fellow who poked her shoulder rather gently.
"Y...yes?" Aylith looked up at the guy.
"Li'l lady, I've got socks older than you. You do know that we don't serve the good stuff to minors?"
From his tone, Aylith knew that it wasn't really a question. Regardless, she had her answer. "I don't think I'd drink that nasty stuff even if I was of the proper age. I won't drink anything I'm not supposed to."
"Well, then. We welcome you and we especially welcome your gold."
That was it. He simply took his position at the door and Aylith was left by herself again. Because Aylith purchased what might very well be one of the cheapest rides to the Isle Marw, she had plenty of money for a decent meal. She took a seat up at the bar. The bartender had just finished with Rin and turned to Aylith.
"What can I get ya?" He asked simply.
"I'll need a moment to see what I want," Aylith responded and checked the menus on the wall.

Last edited by Astral Harmony; 09-27-2005 at 08:33 AM.
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Unread 09-27-2005, 01:30 PM   #10
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Jim couldn't help but not grin at John Fink, who was in fact, a rat-man.

Jim had managed to remove all signs of Piracy from the ship. He had messed up a few weeks back, and ended up having to help fight off not only 2 other pirate ships, but 2 fys and 1 Barracan. Jim's punishment ended up having to clean the Captains quarters, as the Captain spent the majority of the time ranting about how the Squirrel was truly a magnificent and powerful creature, even mightier than the great Bear-walrus.

Jim hoped that the Bear-walrus was the name of another ship, or that the Captain was drunk at the time. Or both.

He had been eagerly awaiting shoreleave, as he desired to get some knowledge about his home island that didnt' have the words Yarr, Aye, or "Sandpaper ma Corns, Swabbie!"

He also sought out some new reading material, a wide variety of candy, and a decent meal. Which of course meant a meal at a Five Star dining area, in cleanliness, and with no naked pirates lying about.

He kept some of the finer clothes gotten from the raid on a merchant ship a while back, and tried his best to keep his skin and hair in good condition. Obviously he'd be out of place amongst the pirates, as they may realize he wasn't really a runaway servant. So he folded the clothes along with a mirror and a comb made from fish bones, and kept them under his shirt. It was a very loose shirt, and it covered the fine clothing perfectly.

He'd just have to get away from the rest of the crew long enough to tidy up and dress, then he'd go look for the best place to get a bite.

Of course, all this depended upon one thing: That the captain never bothered to check the underside of his dresser, lest he find all of Jim's savings. But what are the odds of that?

(ooc:Hey, if you're on a pirate ship full of thieves and cuthroats and need to keep some money safe, that's definitely the last place they'd look for it, no?)
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