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What Do You Do With a Drunken Fiddler?; [P] Ahriman (FIN)
Topic Started: Sun Aug 21, 2011 10:33 pm (1,502 Views)
Shan Orison
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Ship holds reek. Pirate ship holds reek to a fantastic degree, thanks to the lack of caring as far as basic sanitation and hygiene go. As for pirates themselves, despite their love of music, they were callous, cruel, filthy seabound rats, though that was insulting to rodents. Also, chained manacles are heavy and chafe.

Shan was well on his way to writing a book about how much he disliked being captured by pirates.

Yeah, you really should have listened to me, his cynicism said tiredly. No bartender is going to give you a round on the house without you doing something in return. Also, did you not notice how chummy everyone in there was? You really stood out. And you never pass out after one drink, you freakish lightweight.

He really should have noticed. He normally would have, but he had been walking all day. He was tired and thirty and a warm, friendly tavern seemed just the ticket. They even offered a free drink to wash the dirt from his throat. The next thing he knew, he was chained in below deck on a ship far from land, impossible to swim from and survive, assuming the pirates wouldn't just shoot him full of arrows for the fun of it. By the day, he was trapped in the hold in locks that he might be able to escape if there was somewhere to go after he was free. Occasionally, at night, they brought him up deck to play while they drank and dance and, once enough booze got into them, brawl. Shan kept himself as hidden as possible until one of the more sober ones took him back below. He'd tried to use his violin to escape once, but he wasn't much of a mariner and had still been working out how to lower the lifeboat when the pirates recovered. He still had bruises from that, and now they kept his fiddle locked away who knows where, and gave him a second rate instrument to use.

Shan sighed, wiggled his toes, and waited, going over the layout of the ship that he'd seen one more time. He just had to stay calm and not cause any more trouble. There was going to be a break, a chance for him to grab his instrument and escape, even if it was just to a deserted island...where the pirates could easily catch him again. That was always the problems with his plans. He could always find the flaws.

Well, no matter, said his undying optimism. Something will come up before we get sold into slavery or whatever they have planned.

The bard leaned back against the bulkhead and closed his eyes for a nap. Oh, there was another thing he hated about being captured by pirates. It was bloody dull.
Edited by Shan Orison, Mon Aug 22, 2011 12:48 am.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Luka was gone, and Valentine was dead. The pirate found both hatred and solace in that thought. A man who had tormented him on near a year, taken his power, and killed the only man who truly knew he was in this world was finally dead, taking with him the only friend the Prince-Turned-Pirate had left in this world. He found himself drinking more, and there was a certain rage that he could never really work out of his system, causing him to pull too hard at the wheel of the boat at times, and often chucking rum bottles at degenerates who made jokes below him.
That was another annoying thing, his crew had taken mercenaries aboard. Not skilled at all, but fodder for them to use for their missions. He found himself caring less and less, not taking his usual jobs and just raiding whatever ships they could find. Hell, ships? Theirs could fly, they could be taking over towns at this point. But he wouldn't go that far, that would just be an insult to Luka's memory. He had to remain strong.

A cawing from high above warned them that their quarry was nearing, the shadow of the massive thunder-bird covering most of the deck. From as high as she was it was hard to see her from the water's surface, but Ahriman was aware of the bulk and power behind that massive creature's form, a smile crossing his face as he replied with a whistle of his own. The bird flew forward, allowing the sun to bask down onto the deck of the ship. They were hounding a pirate ship that they had spotted days before, the lot of them too merry with whatever treasure they had found to notice the bird in the sky, or the sails on the horizon. It would be a mistake that they would soon regret.
"The ores! Let out the ores! We'll be upon the dogs before the noon is upon us!"
He had forgotten use his accent, he found himself caring less and less of late. Just like the stubble on his chin, he was neglecting to shave it, or even trim it. When he removed the scarf he looked more like a woodsman then a pirate, more of a madman then the gentleman that he preferred to look. All the better if it meant his enemies would be dying faster.
Four ores pressed out of the sides of the ship, the bulk of it pressing onward with increased alacrity. At his signal, the enemy ship would lose it's ability to escape, regardless. All it would take is a whistle, and their sails would be as useful as a stick against a giant. It was a tactic that his crew had used countless times over, and it had proven true every time.

As they approached the ship, and the warning bells began to call on the enemy ship, the whistle was let out. A crack of lightning shot down into the ship, slamming into the base of it's mast with all the force of natural lightning, tearing it apart and sending the sail drifting into the waters. The pirate captain smiled, turning the wheel of his ship. swinging the massive dragon figurehead that stood at the end of his ship so it faced directly towards the enemy ship. He cried a battle-cry at the top of his lungs, bolts of lightning launching like spears from the figurehead's mouth as it sprang to life, an almost draconic roar erupting from it's pseudo-throat.
He drew his cutlass from his waist as the ship came along the enemy ship, four men lining up near the head of the ship with bows ready as arrows flew at them in response.
"Get those planks across and start the raiding! Any man worth his weight in the spoils cheer!"
Cries came out over the ship, nine pirates in all not including himself. He would have had more, but much of his ship had been modified, room made for an occupant within that he held a place for within his heart. He had to admit that Mora would be the only crew-member he could truly not see himself without.
He smiled as Allen reached the helm of the ship, ducking down behind the wood of the wheel of the ship and holding his bow to him. The man was agile, moving from the head of the ship to the helm within seconds.
"So cap'n, you goin' across?"
Ahriman looked to his beautiful blade, Isabella, and smiled, "Would you be so kind and look after the wheel for me, Allen? I'd hate to miss the fun."
The pirate smiled, one of the few men who had been with Ahriman for a long time, learned everything he knew from the old prince. And he couldn't help but laugh to think how many of the enemy would learn from him in their last moments of life.
And he could see the fires dancing over the enemies ship, the pirate in him hating to wonder what treasures would be destroyed, but the rage was almost strangling him, demanding that blood be spilled. He was almost a specter as he passed over the central plank, upon the enemy pirates with a skill of blade they were each hard-pressed to keep up with.
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Shan Orison
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Bells and shouts filtered down from above. Shan looked up in puzzlement.

That's never happened before, his second thoughts noted. Wonder what's going on.

There was a sudden crash of sound that left his ears ringing. There was the cracking of breaking wood from above, and even more shouts. The ceiling bent and splintered as something fell on them and bounce back off with great force. The smell of smoke and the sudden heat of a great flame radiated on him. Combined with the noise, it was a cacophony for the senses that promised to grow more deadly each moment.

Did he say it was bloody dull on the ship? Peaceful and uneventful was what he meant, and boy did he miss it.

Shan moved as far as his chain would go to a pile of old boxes in the corner. The explosion had toppled them over, but the one he wanted was still intact. He dug around until he found the nail he'd hidden there two days ago. The locks the pirates used were heavy and imposing, but not very sophisticated. Blocking out the sounds of growing battle from above, he focused and fiddled until the locks came undone. He tore the hated manacles off and thanked the gods the pirates didn't get anything more complicated for their restraints. He crept to the door and opened it a fraction. On the other side was Snouty, the man picked to be Shan's guard. The bard had quickly learned the squashed nose man had been assigned the job for the simple fact that he was too stupid and fat headed to be tricked. The captain had stuck in Snouty's head that he was to stay and guard the prisoner, and no amount of cajoling on Shan's part had dispelled those instructions from Snouty's mind. Even now he was looking upward in confusion, his orders to stay put comflicting with the one to protect the ship from whoever they were fighting.

Shan crept behind him, any noise he made covered by the battle above, grabbed Snouty's cutlass, and brought it around to the pirate's fat neck.

"Hello, Snouty," He said, pressing the edge against the side of the neck. "I'm sorry about this, really I am. I'm a peaceful man by nature and you've been a rather considerate guard, all things considered. Very good at your job. However," Shan pressed the blade the tiniest faction harder. "This ship isn't doing well, I'm sure it's on fire, and though I'd much prefer to just sneak away into the night and let you all go on your marauding way, I'm afraid I must leave now. Now, Snouty, there are very few things in this world I'd kill for. One is my mother. Another's my fiddle. I really hate kiling, but if you don't tell me, I will cut you down, Snouty, and a stupid fiddle isn't worth dying over, is it? Is it?"

"N-n-no," Snouty said, taking the hint.

"See, you're a smart man, Snouty. I couldn't even trick you, and gods know I tried. Now, tell me where my fiddle is, and I'll go peacefully, and you can keep guarding the cell just like the captain told you."

"Th-the captain p-p-put it in his quarters. S-s-said no one was to t-t-touch it," Snouty said, unnerved by the sudden change in his passive charge.

"Dammit. I was hoping it was down here. Well, thank you, Snouty. Now guard the cell, okay? One stupid bard isn't worth dying over, right?"

"R-r-r-right."

"There's no point in throwing your life away now, right?"

"Right."

"They don't give you your fair share of the loot anyway, right?"

"Right!"

"Thataboy. Speak with the captain about getting what you deserve after this is over. I'm off. Goodbye, Snouty." Shan pulled the cutlass away and darted for the stairs. "And I'm sorry Snouty, but I'm taking this. Things seem ugly topside and I want something to block blows with."

"Alright..." said a bewildered Snouty.

Shan took the stairs leading to the ship's bow two at a time, stopping when he was eye level with the deck. There was the chaos of fighting everywhere. The mast's stump was blackened and burning, as was much of the rest of the ship. Another ship sailed beside them. That was most likely the source of the invaders. Well, they could have at each other. Shan had survived this long by staying focused on the task at hand. Too bad the captain's quarters were located on the ship's stern. Shan looked for where the fighting seemed thinnest, took a deep breath, and ran. He'd have to trust in his reflexes, speed, and most of all, his luck to get to the other side safely. In other words, he was probably doomed.
Edited by Shan Orison, Mon Aug 22, 2011 3:10 am.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Rage did funny things to a man, or in this case brutal and horrible things to anyone that happened to step foot in that man's way. The captain of the Mille Figli was a master of the art of blade, at least when it came to his own weapon, and as each man came at him his beautiful Isabella pounded that point in with as much force as his muscled form could muster. One-hundred and Ninety pounds of muscle made sure that any man that came against the Captain -Nay, prince - didn't live much longer then he wished them too.
He caught sight of the captain of the enemy ship, willfully trying to inspire his men to fight harder. There was at least a score of men on the large pirate vessel, if not twice that. The captain was a burly man, looked to be in his forties. If he were a navy-man, Ahriman had to admit that he would have had a few more ships beneath his command, and probably a wife to meet when he got home. If he had the latter, the pirate cared little. Soon she would be staring out to sea, wondering where her beloved had met his final waves.
It was the sorta thought that would have chilled him only months, or even weeks before. Now it put a sick smile on his face. His mouth twisted into a grin as he hissed out words, "Danza, Isabella!"
Lightning crackled over the edge of his weapon, twisting and turning through strikes. Even those that parried or blocked him found that the lightning rippled through the metal of their weaponry, conducting up and down their bodies as if they had just stuck their hands into water as lightning struck against it. He lost himself then, those that were stunned by the power within his blade found themselves dispatched by the dance of the pirate.
He approached where the captain stood, his men pushing the enemies far enough away to make a circle for their captain.
"Step down, dog! Face me, and know that you and your ship will be but bones beneath the waves when I am done!"
The captain snarled, Ahriman just now noticing that he had one of his eyes missing, a garrish scar having replaced it. Had he met this man any other time, he may have been able to understand him, offer a bit of respect, but not today. He watched with apathetic eyes as the captain stepped down, calling out at the pirate that he wouldn't live to regret his folly. He looked over the rapier that the man drew, it was something of a work of beauty, he had to admit. He would have to claim it from the body if he could.
At least there would be one piece of productive work out of today - wait a moment. His eyes went down to the man's waist, to an iron key that hung loosely from his belt. There was likely a chest within his quarters, and whatever it contained was important enough that he kept it away from his crew. The prince's inner pirate caused him to lick his lips in excitement. Were Luka here, he would suggest they pilfer the key, whatever it unlocked, and be on their merry way.
He would, of course, but not before painting the deck of this ship a few new shades of crimson.

Arrows flew across the deck from one ship to another, and Allen and Loda held themselves against the railing of their own ship. One of their archers had taken an arrow to the neck, a wound that both of them knew couldn't be repaired. This fight was gonna be a victory, to be sure, but they had lost two or three of the mercenaries they had brought with them. Back before they brought these folks along, the two of them remembered days when they'd take over ships without a single loss of life.
They both frowned as they looked down at the mercenary, Jerrald by name. Allen recalled meeting his wife, a nice enough woman in the Taras docks. He'd have to give her a visit personally, knowing all too well that his Captain wouldn't' be up to it. The pirate bit his lip and drew another arrow, bringing himself over the rail of the ship and firing, ducking down before he could watch the arrow he fired tear into the thigh of an enemy pirate, sending the man over the side of his own ship.
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Shan Orison
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He ran, dodging, ducking, rolling, and stumbling through the crowd. Everyone was too focused on obvious threats to pay attention to one person that was already moving away when they noticed him. There were still wayward blows and flying arrows, but Shan ignored that and focused on the captain's door.

"Oh my gods, I'm still alive," Shan said aloud as he pushed open the door. Fire had yet to reach here, but it was only a matter of time before the smoke creeping in would make this room uninhabitable. Not daring to think of the next step in his escape plan, Shan began to search. The case his violin was in was strong, but it wasn't going to survive immolation or an ocean burial. He looked on top of dressers, tore open drawers, threw everything in the captain's tastefully elegant chambers into disarray as seconds passed and his panic grew. He even flipped the mattress over, which did reveal some interesting pictures of scantily clad women, but held no violin.

Finally the only place Shan was sure he hadn't checked twice was the imposing chest that sat at the foot of the bed, opposite the door. He knelt before it and tried the nail, but the captain was much more concerned about protecting his valuables than he was about prisoner containment. Shan gave up after a wayward tug caused him to scratch his hand open with the nail. In desparation, he tried to use the cutlass to pry the lid open. The blade snapped. Tears began filling his eyes and he slammed the lid with the hilt in frustration.

"No!" he yelled. "It is not ending like this. I'm not leaving you behind, godsdammit!"

His stomach sank as he realized he might really be going down with the ship. He kept beating on the lid, more willing the chest to open than anything else.
Edited by Shan Orison, Mon Aug 22, 2011 12:47 am.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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The pirate found himself side-stepping stabs of a rapier, using the edge of his blade to block the more heavy strikes that came from the captain's blows. The man was tough, Ahriman had to give him that. He could see muscles tense on edge, and his good eye twitch as lightning went through his body, frying muscle and flesh and organs within. It took a lot of resolve to shrug off that kind of attack, but it was something that the man had done well enough.
The thing that Ahriman noticed, however, was that the Captain had pilfered a weapon he knew little of so far as using it went. His strikes were strong, more something one would expect of an axe or a heavy blade. Ahriman waited, watching the man's movements. It wasn't long before he made a move that overstepped the weight of the weapon, pushing himself forward too far to pull himself back in time. Ahriman felt nothing as his beautiful Isabella cut through the man's arm, sending it flying to the deck below. He looked to the stump that had been severed at the elbow for a moment before spinning his blade, taking the man at the waist.
At least the cackle of lightning would staunch most of the bleeding. He could take solace in that. He looked the captain in the eye and merely nodded, knowing that the pain in the man's face spelled out his wishes quite clearly. He slashed quickly, brutally, ending the man's life in one quick, clean motion. He could see all around that the enemy pirates found themselves losing their will to fight, their captain having been executed as easily as the rest of them. He was supposed to be the best of them, and he was killed just as easily as a dog.
Ahriman knelt down, taking the key from the dead man's hip and placed it within his pocket. He eyed the rapier that the man held, wriggling his nose before pulling it clean of dead fingers (and a spare forearm, as it were) and placed it comfortably at his waist. He would need to build a nice scabbard for it, or maybe find a cloth to wrap it in. Something that gave the graceful blade a place it was due. he felt a smile cross his face, a rarity these days. It quickly faded as he looked up into the crowd of faces, holding up his blade, "Any man that remains on this ship longer will find himself joining their captain! I hope you enjoy swimming lads, cause you've got a long one ahead of you."
Some of them defiantly fought back, pirates striking down pirates. Others rushed for life boats, and others still merely jumped from the side of the boat in an attempt to escape. Ahriman was quite sure that whatever was left of his humanity was slipping away if he had inspired such fear in those men. Or maybe he was just growing a bit better at the whole intimidation thing?

He moved across the deck of the ship, watching as what was left of his men moved to put out some of the fires, or at least control them. Half of the ship had been consumed, and if they weren't stopped then the raid would have just been a waste of lives, and a lack of treasure. Something he didn't mind, but he was quite sure his men enjoyed having the money to put food into their bellies and ease their hearts about men that had been lost.
He pressed open the captain's door with a sigh, eyes narrowing as he saw the form bending over the chest that he was quite sure contained the objects he was searching for. He looked around the room, noticing it had been comfortably ransacked. He held up the key that he had pilfered from the captain, apathy and annoyance in his voice, "Lookin' for something, lad?"
He looked over the lad. He didn't have the look of a pirate, but he had to admit that that trick would be his first choice when it came to escaping almost certain death on an enemy ship, or even worse getting revenge for his captain who was just cut into pieces by the enemy captain.
He found that his brow was curling, making his face look like a tanned visage of wrath. Likely not the best stance to take, diplomatically speaking.
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Shan Orison
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"Lookin' for something, lad?"

Shan's head shot up at the voice. He stood, turned, and flourished his weapon ahead of him, taking a fighting stance. It might have actually looked impressive if he wasn't holding a hilt with a few inches of steel sticking out.

He didn't recognized the man, which must mean he was from the raiding ship. Shan had acted fierce with Snouty below, a fairly easy feat when you're behind someone with a blade to their jugular. This man was fierce. He had long, thick hair, a scarf around his neck, and clothes splattered with fresh blood. His voice was flat and uncaring, as though Shan was just another chore on his list that needed dealt with, and his brows furrowed to express that Shan was an unsavory chore at that. He held in his hand a large key, and the bard's mind began placing the puzzle pieces together.

The key's color and design matched the lock on the chest, meaning that it probably opened the chest.
The chest held the things the captain felt were too valuable to leave lying around, and the only place the man would keep that key was on his person.
The captain was not the sort to have a civilized duel and, at first blood, say "Truly you are my better at the art of the sword. I salute you, good sir. Take this key; you more than deserve the rewards it unlocks." The only way the man got it was from the captain's dead body.
Which meant the captain was dead, which was good news. The bad news was that this man was the one who likely killed the captain. A lone bard armed with a broken cutlass and no knowledge of swordplay really wasn't going to be more than an extra chore for him.

Shan didn't have his dagger, and he didn't have his violin. He had only one thing left then. He tossed the useless hilt away and held up his hands. All he could do is throw himself on whatever mercy a ruthless pirate killer had.

"Look, you can have anything and everything you want from that chest. There's only one thing I want, and you can have everything else. It's worthless to you, but means everything to me. Just that one thing, and I'll be gone."
Edited by Shan Orison, Mon Aug 22, 2011 3:16 am.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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The pirates found it hard not to chuckle at the broken sword that was jutted at him, something that was ultimately unimpressive, especially compared to his beloved Isabella. Then again, very little impressed him when it was compared to his cutlass. She had a beautiful edge, and an enchantment within sparked her to life to cut up anyone who stood in the pirate's way. From the way the lad held the blade, however, he hadn't held a blade of the style before. He wouldn't have had much chance without a few more years of practice under his belt. And maybe a bit of luck, while he was at it.
"Maybe you should watch yerself, lad. You're gonna poke yer own eye out before you bring that pigsticker at me."
He shook his head. His accent was a strange mix of a sultry pirate, and a haughty royal. He was half attempting to cover his real voice, but the slur of rum made it difficult to keep up a persona he truly had no use for anymore. His pursuers obviously knew who he was, and had seen through his disguise. There was little point in it really, but struggle on he would eternally attempt to do. He shook his head, raising his brow curiously as the man tossed his arms into the air in an almost amusing surrendering gesture.
"Aren't ye one of this crew? Eh.. wait a moment."
He bent over, examining the lad for a moment. He had all the looks of a greenhorn that had probably never seen a ship's hull his entire life, at least until now. Likely a hostage. Pirates had a certain fondness for slave labor, and someone like this lad would be perfect for the lighter duties. He sheathed Isabella at his hip, letting out a resigned sigh and muttering under his breath, "Damn you, Luka. Whatever god is giving you rest, never say I didn't attempt to keep you alive."

He knelt down to the chest, sticking the key into the hole and turning it, nodding to the lad after a quiet moment.
"Have at it, then. Take what ye need. And if ya need a ride, me boat tends to have some extra spaces after fights like that. Could drop ye in Taras before we head up the shore, I'm sure ye don't want yer nose in more pirate business."
The cove tended to not be very fond of non-pirates, specifically those that couldn't hold their own in a decent brawl. Ahriman had a feeling this lad would be laid out cold fast enough that he wouldn't survive the night in the cove, much less the trip to the second way out. That was, if he could find it. Pirates had a certain fondness for hiding things so that only they could find them, or they and someone equally as stubborn.

he shook his head, feeling that whatever he was about to get into, it was likely bigger then just escorting a lad to the shore and leaving him there with whatever pointless trinket he was about to pluck from this chest. As far as chests in pirate's cabins... he had a feeling he was about to find something that was going to spark his interest enough that they would be traveling all over hell and earth for the source of it.
Joy, he always loved those feelings in his gut.
Edited by Ahriman Lordimar, Mon Aug 22, 2011 2:31 am.
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Shan Orison
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Shan blinked.

"Really? I can...um...Thank you, um, sir," he said in a stuttered rush. He pushed open the lid, half hopeful, have dreading what he'd find.

It was there. The case laid safe and snug amid scrolls and jewels and stuffed bags. He picked it up slowly and opened it. The violin laid inside, untouched and unhurt. He closed the lid and held it close.

"Thank the gods," he murmured, then spotted his dagger in there as well. He picked it up gingerly with two fingers to show the man, trying to display as much as he could he had no plans to use it. "I know I said one thing, but this is mine too, so...I'll take this too, unless you want it. Probably not. You have much nicer weaponry, or so I noticed. Um," Shan shoved it into the empty sheath. "If you're actually serious about dropping me off on land and...um, not selling me to dark elves or anything, I'd appreciate it. They don't like me very much, anyway. At least some of them. So...um," Shan stood and moved away from the chest and the man, which meant heading farther in the room. "The chest is yours. Lots of nice things in there, but the ship is burning, so we may want to adjourn to your ship soon, if that's alright with you, sir."
Edited by Shan Orison, Sun Sep 18, 2011 6:35 am.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman felt a little uneasy letting the kid take his dagger, but he would likely be able to handle himself if the kid could get a lucky shot in. That's why he had healing magic, after all. Handle silly things like stab wounds or broken bones, whichever decided to ail him on any particular day. He shook his head, reaching into the chest when something caught his eye. He looked down at the boy as he picked up the blank piece of paper, the edges of it apparently well worn as if someone had been reading it. He held it up to the light of a candle that was lit nearby, seeing traces of something on the paper through the light.
He licked his lips, looking back into the chest. There were baubles and other assorted things within, not too much to truly worry about. He turned and kicked the door open, "Oy, dogs! Get in here and get this chest, don't touch the lad in here! I think I may need him..."
He turned to the boy and nodded his head to tell him to get out of the two. Two men came in, Shen and Len by name, and began to lift the chest. They were another pair that had been with the crew since it's creation, two specifically trained by Ahriman himself. He had a fondness for the pair, as well as an amount of worry for what would happen to them were they to spend too much time amongst his crew. He considered letting the original members of his crew wander off, go about their lives comfortably from now on. He could offer them enough treasures to live a comfortable life in the country, not bothered by anyone.

As the chest was hauled out, Ahriman kept his eye on the scrap of paper he had taken from it. After a moment, he turned his head to the young man, "What's your name anyway?"
He sighed, feeling his shoulders sag with a heavy weight. He could feel the adrenaline of the situation weighing down on him now, as if one of the bodies outside leaned themselves against him. He needed to try and calm down, get back to the ship and maybe grab himself a drink. He was used to roaming around with pirates, which to be honest couldn't be attested as the most stable bunch when it came to rage-control.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment before turning to the lad, waiting for a response before continuing, "Do you have any skills, lad? Beyond makin' it out of a cage, if my intuition is right."
He had some skill as a thief himself, and it was quite easy for him to see the whispers and hints of it in other people, a way they carried themselves that gave away a certain guile about them. He found himself respecting that sort of person, though they often had little strength in a head to head fight, they tended to be good people. Now killers? Those were a bit different, harder to discern. And if you couldn't, one tended to not live as long as they should.

The pirates were tossing bodies off the side of the ship, sighing with each heave that sent them tumbling into the sea. One or two of them went below deck to try and find more treasure, but the ship was burning fast. It would hold for a few hours, but it would be best for them to escape as fast and as far away as they could, hopefully keeping the fire from spreading to their ship.
Alas, the price of tactics.
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Shan Orison
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Shan's stomach sank at what the fierce man, who was probably the invading captain, told his men. "I think I may need him," he said. Shan had been needed before. It never meant anything good. It usually ended with a lot of screaming and running on his part. He continued staring at the worn paper he'd found as the new pirates hauled the chest away. Shan stayed where he was, trying to remain as calm and nonthreatening as possible. he probably shouldn't have picked up that dagger, but he really liked that blade. Nothing cut bread better, in his experience.

The new captain suddenly turned back to him. "What's your name anyway?" he asked.

"Um, Shan, sir. Just Shan. No one special. Grew up in a tiny village, left to travel the world. Nothing of note."

Totally and completely useless, Shan mentally screamed. Utterly not worth your time. Best to dump me back on land and head out for more exciting adventures and loot.

"Do you have any skills, lad? " he asked, rubbing his nose, "beyond makin' it out of a cage, if my intuition is right."

"Oh, um...not many skills, really. And it wasn't a cage, it was more of an old store room, and the locks weren't really that difficult. I'm not really a locksmith; I just constantly end up in trouble like this. I mean, I couldn't pick this chest, and the guard really wasn't that bright, so it wasn't hard to get past him, especially with the fighting. Um....I'm a bard, sir. That's all I do. I just travel and play for my living, and not very well at that. The only magic I know is a small healing spell I learned as a child because my mother was tired of constantly fixing up the cuts I'd get, and beyond playing some music I'm utterly useless. I can't fight or anything. My dagger's really more for cutting cheese than people, and I hate hurting people at that, and I'm not very strong so I'm horrible at hard labor and...Oh, I'm good at talking. I've been told that before, or at least told I talk a lot."

You are dangerously close to the fine line of being too much of a bother to keep and too much of a bother to let live, his second thoughts said. It might be best to shut your mouth for a bit, before he decides to cut off the supply line between your mouth and your lungs.

Shan shut his mouth, hoping the new captain would just sigh and chuck him onto the nearest piece of land. He hated being needed.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman didn't respond, not until the man had went through all of what he had to say. He could tell he was afraid, which he couldn't really blame him for. The first time that the prince had seen pirates he was frightened, hiding in his father's quarters beneath the blankets, only catching a glimpse when his father struck down the enemy ship's captain. Adequate showing of the captain's job; Protecting his crew.
He nodded, "Let's go then, Shan. Ye can call me Ahriman, the rest of me crew is irrelevant."
He felt kind of bad wording it that way, which was quite true. The rest of them weren't important to him. Four of them were personally trained by him, even saved by him and vice versa from time to time... but without Luka he found his heart hardened to their plights, or even their existences. They were tools to be used upon the sea. He wondered if he would mourn the loss of one of them. With a sigh, he turned to move out of the cabin. The pirates gave him odd looks as he moved out with the bard, the gaze he passed at each of them

The ship that they were passing over to was beautifully made, the wood the sturdiest that the crew could find to make it. Wings were folded against the side of the ship, wood wings crafted in the shape of a dragon's set of winds. At it's head, the dragon figure head remained motionless and dead, as if it had never grown into life. A few of the pirate's tossed the Bard looks that were less then polite as he passed onto the ship, their Captain tossing them looks that caused many of them to walk away like scared hounds.
"Don't worry about the lads, their more hot air then anythin'."
He pressed forward, motioning for the bard to follow him towards the helm of the ship, smiling to Allen as he sat next to the wheel, frowning as he saw the lad nursing an arrow that was stuck into his bicep. He nodded to the lap, the young pirate knowing what his captain meant for him. Mora down in the lower decks could help freeze the wound so that the bleeding stopped. The resourceful yeti had a way of proving herself far more useful then the average man would think of her.
He smiled lightly as he moved to the wheel of the ship, running a hand over the wood as excitement bubbled up in him. It was one of the only things that he could truly rely on these days to keep him happy, the one thing that he could get lost in. He could guide this ship through water and through the air, pushing through to the wide horizons.
"So lad, why don't you play us a song then? Might as well make yerself useful until we can find ya a stretch o' land to hop off on."
A small whistle followed that, the shadow that flew above finally landing upon the top of the mast of the beautifully crafted ship, the massive bird stretching out it's wings and letting out a tired crowing. It curled itself up and closed it's eyes, falling to sleep.
Ahriman smiled at Elnora, the beautiful bird a giant part of the naval tactics he and his people used. He shook the thoughts away as he took the blank piece of parchment off of his belt, nailing it to the wooden surface next to his wheel.
He mutted quietly to himself, "How would a man figure out how to work this little map, eh?"
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Shan Orison
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"Yes, um, yessir...Captain," Shan said to the man's request. He was on much surer waters here, to borrow a nautical term. He started to take his violin out when a dark shadow passed overhead and landed on the mast of the Captain's beautifully carved ship. Shan's eyes darted around to the crew, but they seemed more interested in him than the giant winged creature now sleeping above them, so Shan concluded it was supposed to be there and could be safely ignored, at least as someone would ignore a bird with talons of that size. He took his violin in hand and stood beside and a bit behind the captain, trying to remain in the man's peripheral vision. The man seemed to act like he would be returning Shan to solid ground soon, and the bard didn't want to destroy those chances by giving the captain any reason to find him threatening.

The Captain pinned up the parchment he'd found in the old captain's quarters, staring as intently at it now as he did on the burning ship. Shan took advantage of his position to study it as well. It was a simple, blank parchment, as far as he could discern. It was old and worn on the edges, but was still blank. It also seemed familiar, and Shan remembered that the old captain had also studied this paper a great deal. Before the all night parties where he played for his life to ensure the pirates' entertainment, Shan would be called to the old captain's quarters, where he would give private concerts to the head of the ship. The entire scenario was odd, however. The man would hunch over his desk, that parchment laid flat before him, and his journal to the side. He'd request...no...demand Shan to play a song. If Shan knew it, he did. If he didn't, the captain would contain his anger long enough to hum a few bars to Shan, who learned that picking up the new tunes was best for him if he didn't want to get backhanded.

He usually didn't finish the song, however. He'd play a bit, and then the captain would bark out a new song to play. Those days with the captain had produced an odd medley of tunes that grew even more diverse when the captain ordered Shan to play every song he knew. It was when he was playing through all the sea chanties and dock song he knew that the captain grew excited, his scowl turning to an almost menacing grin.

"Play that one again," he said. And Shan did as he was told. He played the song again. And again. And again. And again. He now hated, "What Do You Do With a Drunken Sailor" from having heard it so much in such a short time.

Each time the face of the captain would glow with hope, and when he reached the end the captain glowered in anger, though that anger, thankfully, seemed to be directed at the paper and not Shan. Then the captain's crew demanded that sense they had a bard as a captive, they should take advantage of it. Which led to Shan's first gig as the pirate's entertainment, and his failed escape attempt that somehow didn't end up with him dead, but did mean his instrument was taken and locked away.

He found himself at odds with...himself. The best plan was to be useless, to be a simple, squishy bard so he could get back to land as soon as possible. On the other hand, he wanted to see what the two captains found so interesting about that blank parchment. He could find out by playing a simple tune, but the captain would see it too, and then who knew what would happen? Most likely he'd be held captive again, forced to play that stupid ditty forever. But, may the gods help him, he had to know.

He tuned his violin and began improvising a simple song. He watched the Captain out of the corner of his eye and, when it seemed he was occupied by something one of his crew was doing, the bard played a few measures of that song. In the corner of the map, a small area of the parchment grew darker, as though etched in faded ink. He switched back to another song, and the darkened patch faded to nothing. He played the next few measures, and another section of the parchment grew dark, fading when he changed tunes. He judged the length of the song and the size of the patches. Playing the whole song, it seemed, caused something to appear in the upper left corner of the parchment. Shan couldn't judge what from the disjointed pieces. They seemed to fade, though, once he started playing something else.

Well, that explains what the old captain was doing, Shan's second thoughts said. He probably had you repeat it so much hoping it would stick. I hope he died with that song stuck in his head. That used to be a good song.

Shan shifted to playing something entirely different, and hoped the Captain hadn't seen. He was curious what was going on with that parchment, but getting back to land had to be his first priority. At least he told himself that.
Edited by Shan Orison, Sat Sep 17, 2011 4:59 am.
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Ahriman Lordimar
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Ahriman's ears perked up at the sound of the music, finding it a bit hard to not be annoyed at the noise until the lad had picked a proper song. He was never one for the sea songs, but he had to admit the kid had some talent to him. He would have thought more of it, but movement was caught in the side of his eyes. Had that map moved, or at least changed slightly? He kept his head turned away to keep the bard playing, watching the different changes in the map based upon what the bard played. A smile crossed the pirate's face at the map, he had indeed found something remarkably impressive.
He looked down at the Bard while he was focused on the map, taking the necklace around his neck out of his shirt and holding it against the wood of the ship. It was just a wooden idol, nothing that anyone would really be any the wiser about, but when he spoke the right words...
"Dimitri, Wake up ye lazy dog!"
The figurehead at the end of the ship roared to life, the dragon's eyes sparking to life in a lightning-yellow glow. It seemed to take an annoyed curl to it's face, looking to the side and waiting until the pirate ship was finally away from it's unfortunate victim that they had just left sinking and burning, sending it to the bottom of the sea. When they were clear, the wooden wings on the side of the ship spread themselves out, flapping and beginning to heft the mass of the ship into the air. It was a slow ascent at first, barely noticeable unless one was truly paying attention, then the ship began to speed on ahead, rising into the sky all the way.
The captain smiled as the ship rose into the sky, Elnora shaking happily at the top of the mast. She always seemed more comfortable sleeping while they were in the sky. He looked down towards the bard, then out towards his crew. Beyond the four of his original crew, the mercenaries were all baffled at the flying ship. They had been hired on at the pirate's cove, unaware that the ship truly flew through the air. Their surprise -and some of their fear- brought a great deal of pleasure to the pirate. He would have to make a sport of this at one point.

He looked down towards the bard, "What do ye think of her, lad? Any better then that rag that kept ya imprisoned?"
He rose his brow, steering the ship through the air comfortably. Some men would find themselves distressed at the sudden change, but truly Dimitri did most of the work. The dragon simply listened to the commands of his master, feeling the shift of the rudder and adjusting it's wings accordingly. An intelligent wooden beast, it was. He would have to thank the insane ship-master that had helped him install the thing. Salty, he thought his name was? He certainly wouldn't have thought the old coot knew what he was talking about, that was for sure.
With a mild grin, he pressed forward. There was a lot of fun to be had.
"Think ye got a song that fits this, then?"
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Shan Orison
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Shan felt he was on fairly solid ground so far. He'd been rescued from his kidnappers, albeit by another group of probably pirates, but this group planned on not locking him up and, as an added bonus, were going to take him back to shore. If the captain wanted him to provide entertainment while he steered, Shan was more than happy to oblige.

Then that solid ground fled as the ship took flight.

Shan's last startled note ended as a screech when the dragon head and wings, which he assumed were simple decorations, began to move with their own internal life, moving the ship away from the burning wreckage of Shan's old prison. That wouldn't have bother Shan much - it was actually fascinating - but then he noticed the horizon was slowly lowering. The ship's sailing became far too smooth for something at the mercy of the waves. Shan walked slowly toward the railing, looked down, and wished he hadn't.

He'd flown before, yes. One had to if one were to reach the floating city of Cascadia, and there had been that terrifying and beautiful flight on an ancient dragon. His stomach would always drop when he flew, and his eyes would remain tightly closed during the trip so he could imagine they weren't in the sky even though he could feel there was nothing solid beneath him. At least he had some warning for those moments, he thought as he clutched the railing and tried to pry his eyes away from the sight of the waves far, far below.

"What do ye think of her, lad?" he heard the captain ask. "Any better then that rag that kept ya imprisoned?""

"Well," Shan said, failing to hide the waver in his voice, "I thought that before I came on board actually, though I thought the dragon parts were for aesthetic value rather than being functional..."

It is going to roll on its back and eat us as we fall from the sky, his paranoia declared with grim certainty. Shan focused on the distant waves.

"Think ye got a song that fits this, then?" the captain asked, amusement in his voice. Shan turned, the waves and height forgotten.

Was that a challenge you issued? asked the depths of his bardic soul. It is ACCEPTED, good sir!

Yes, except there probably isn't a song about a flying wooden dragon pirate ship, or at least you've never heard it.

You're thinking all wrong, his creativity said, thriving in the light of difficulty. You're a bard! Think of your audience! What does this whole thing feel like? Being a pirate's all about freedom, and a flying ship is the ultimate freedom! No longer even bound by the sea, the crew could go wherever it dares, and they're pirates! They dare wherever they damn well please!

You know, his logic said, You're only assuming their pirates at this point, though boarding and killing the crew of an entire ship is fairly strong evidence.

Shan still wasn't sure what to play, but after his ride with Nix, he could relate to the beauty of flight, even if it still put him on edge. He started playing, trying to let the notes soar on the wind, upbeat and adventurous. Hopefully the captain would at least accept it. However, something seemed off to Shan. He had to dig into his subconscious to find the cues that alerted him.

Shan had been shocked at the ship's flight, and that was understandable. The issue was the shock and confusion on all but one or two of the crew he could see. Didn't they know what this ship did? The only reason they wouldn't was if they were new. So the captain had an almost entirely fresh crew, except for a few old hands. He also stank of rum when they were in the captain's cabin. Certainly rum was popular for pirates, but the captain seemed intelligent enough to not drink before boarding an enemy ship. So he had battled an enemy with unassessed strength while drunk with a brand new crew. Shan admitted he thought more like a survivor than a warrior full of bravado, but that seemed stupid to him, and the fire in the captain's eyes wasn't something you found in the soul of a simpleton. It was something one did when they had little to lose.
And the only way to feel that you have little to lose is if you lost a lot.

Shan suddenly realized his thoughts had drifted to his fingers and put the song in a mellow, minor tone. He quickly switched back to the upbeat melody. After all, they were wild and free. Drink up me hearties, yo ho, and all that. He glance back to the mast.

"Um, if I may be so bold, Captain, is that your bird?"

Quote:
 
OOC:
Link to chosen song.
Link to rejected second choice (explicit lyrics)
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