Herriman
At some point last week...
A towering, muscular and shirtless man with ripped linen shorts and wild beard and hair comes to meet her, squinting (whether from the sun or not is hard to tell). He looks like a very in-shape hobo. He scratches his beard and nods at her. "Hey there. You th'Cap's girl?"
She tenses up as she eyes him up and down, her defensive wall going up,"Who's the Cap, and who th'fuck are you?"
Early last weekend....
Marar's house is a large estate, the grounds around it well kept. A boy is sitting on the fence at the edge of the estate.
Herriman rides up toward the edge of the estate on a grey and black stallion, with his tricorn cap pulled down low and his coat over his shoulders. Accompanying him is a tall, thin human with a chinstrap beard and a blindfold over his eyes. Herriman is smoking a pipe, and his friend has a cigarette. Herriman tips his hat to the boy as he approaches.
"Ello! You a visitor for 'e's lordship?" The boy asks, jumping down.
Herriman nods, looking down at the boy. "Aye, I am. Fella by th'name o' Manta's here, in't 'e?"
"Yep, that's 'e's lordship. Shall I tell him 'e's got a visitor?"
"And be quick about it."
The boy runs off, coming back a few moments later. "Eliza will show you to him, I'll take yer horses if ya like."
He nods to the other man, and they both hop down off of the horses. "A'right then."
Eliza, a girl in her teens, comes out to meet then and asks them to follow her.
The blindfolded man pinches his cigarette out, stuffing it into his pocket as he and Herriman follow along behind her.
Eliza leads them into a large sitting room with several nice chairs and a couch. A tall, blond man in a fine white outfit, along with a sword hanging from his belt, awaits them. "Hello, I do not believe I have the honor of knowing who my guests are."
Herriman removes his hat and hooks it to his belt. He helps himself to one of the chairs, while the other man stands beside him. "You put an article in th'paper in th'Bay, I hear. Dead girl, eh?"
"Why do you wish to know?" Marar continues to stand, his green eyes watching Herriman suspiciously.
"I'd like ta visit th'grave." He furrows his brow challengingly.
"You were a friend of her's then?"
"I was a friend of her mum's."
He Who Knows No Sin
[[Sorry for the length.]]
Thomas Blamey was a man of convinction, pride, and blinded faith. He was a powerful paladin within the ranks of the Argent Crusade, serving the Scarlet Crusade in truth. He was on his way home through a twisting wood when night fell, on his way to meet fellow Crusaders. The trees around his twisted in a freezing wind, showering Thomas with needles and a few dead leaves. He took no notice of this, wading through a mist that he did not pay attention to.
Ythika - Penance
[ This is also very out of sequence of the usual 55 Word entries, so I apologize for that. Written a long time ago, before Wrath of the Lich King came out. ]
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Ythika - Midnight Offerings
[ I had the urge to write a corresponding scene of Ythika and her mental wanderings during the Vinguld's wedding night. ( Read Vinguld's Blog Entry here! ). So you've been warned. This is also very out of sequence of the usual 55 Word entries, so I apologize for that. ]
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The newest crewmate.
Logbook Entry ################
Well, I've done it. Been considering it for a while, but I figured if I was gonna, I might as well do it. Not regretting it either.
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"So, what're you gonna get 'em?"
Varfolomei strolled along the sidewalk in Flyntlocke Harbor, munching at a somehow still-warm muffin.
The Flynt Family - Brothers
((Part Two and Three: Herriman Nathaniel Flynt VII's thirteen brothers.))
Progress Report
Captain's Log
10:33 PM
Flyntlocke Harbor, manor
I arrived back here in me harbor last night. I've called upon Tsilas to continue helping me prepare for the expedition. Now that me manor is completed and furnished, I won't have to stay in that dingy little cabin no more. Helps fight off the cold, by damn.
Fifteen men have been sent farther north, onto the Northrend mainland, to find leads on where we'll search. So far, two have died because of stupidity. Plummeted their dooms or somesuch. One were killed by a wendigo, and two more were infected by the Scourge and had to be put down.
Tsilas seems like he's got something important sloshing around in his head. Not his brain neither. I reckon he's up here at a time he'd rather be plowing Silvermoon whores. He keeps in his room in the manor when we ain't working, writes and plays the woman's violin. Just as long as he keeps doing his work and keeps his bollocks intact.
Ruined Girl and the Great Escape
‘Ere on these streets, sometimes, I feel like a ghost. Been like that since I was a kid, hungry-faced an’ prowlin’, runnin’ through alleys an’ o’er rooftops with ganglin’ limbs. Then, an’ still now, ‘s like I was movin’ through some great machine, parts an’ people goin’ about not on their own but accordin’ t’ rote, some plan I don’t unnerstan’ an’ never got built into. I’m a screw shook loose maybe, but I don’ feel made a’ metal, not when my blood burns hot or I bathe in my own sweat. No one can see me, an’ it ain’t because I travel in shadows neither; it’s like walkin’ through mud an’ realizin’ yer feet don’t make no prints. Am I alive? Don’t no one else see th’ machine as it grinds?
Gaol ise gaol I
Spring had finally made it to Shattrath, it was nice to open the shutters and let some fresh air blow through my room, clearing out some of the winter funk. Back when, early spring had been the time for finishing the wool that had been woven over the winter. We'd scour the grease off it in a vat of stale piss and then the women would take it and pound it against a table to full it. To keep time, one of the older women would lead a song. Sometimes the words were traditional, sometimes they'd be made up on the spot; lot of gossip and snarky remarks got passed around that way.
Gaol ise gaol I
Gaol air Anna ni'n Nill
Whiskey and Stout. Good for the soul.
I was sittin' in my usual spot at White Hart by the time people started to arrive. The couch by the fire. Always. Of course, it's hard to sleep when people come in and slam the door as the Black-haired priest did. He was wearing this purple and white wintersaber number. And as gaudy as it looked inside, I had to inwardly compliment him on the good snow camoflauge.
The door opened again, and I saw more familiar faces. Particularly that of Theryl. I waved to her, smiling as I normally did. I'd told her I wanted to chat with her last week. And I like to keep my promises when I can. She went over to the bar after she greeted me, and i sheepishly asked for some whiskey if she'd be so kind. She obliged with a smile and plopped down next to me. I gotta say I was surprised. I took the bottle with a smirk, and had drink #1 out of #45 of the evening. I called her a "diamond", and she seemed to like it.
Snow, Humans, and Dust Motes, Oh My!
((Hands down the longest character list I've ever written! Thanks guys! <3))
Dear Journal,
There is this little place in Winterspring that Kaganos sniffed out last night. A wonderful place filled with people, only one of which I actually knew. Quite the different crowd that I'm used to, that's for sure. I'll start from the beginning, as much as I can remember this morning.
...But the Rowboat Went to Hell.
Captain's log
Everlook
This tavern--White Hart, normally isn't very entertaining. Hell, more often than not, I'd be better off just drinking in my own bar on my ship. Tonight though, I think it were worthwhile. I think I may have gotten some rum looks coming in, as I step heavy, and slammed the door. Don't matter much, though.
That one fella..what was his name again? Lo Ila Lr Orli Liore. Right, Liore. Asked me about me notebooks. Told him a gist of what I were doing. I didn't figure it were worth the time to tell him about the slaves. Just that I had to get rid of the logs. Then some broad, dressed all fancy--the tacky sort, like a noble--asks me "So you do boats and stuff?" I couldn't help meself. She worded it so ignorantly, she walked right into it. I says "No, I ain't attracted to wood and metal." Figure that shut her up.
Deeper Grows the Madness. Part 1.
Richard Woodget was a simple man. Making a simple living as a Blacksmith in Booty Bay. He supplyed Bloodsail Pirates with weaponry and armor. He did not think he would be targeted.
Tsilas gets some time to himself...finally.
Logbook Entry ######
After having a bit of time away from the other members of crew, I was finally able to get some work done.
The Captain and I, upon both reaching the camp, spent our time inside his cabin there, discussing our next moves, while Azaryel saw to the loading and unloading of cargo. I think that he's under the impression that by being promoted to bos'un, he's my second in command, but he's rather mistaken. I won't spoil his fun for now. Azaryel's business plans that he keeps working on in his free time are nice, but in all honesty, won't matter much to the Captain at all. The Captain will never need more money.
Being a pirate isn't just drinking and pillaging.
Logbook entry ######
Remember how I thought that that girl was gonna bring me no end of enjoyment?
She's fucking insane.
Mira had a rowboat,
One bright day in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight.
Back to back they faced each other,
drew their swords and shot eachother.
A deaf policeman heard the noise,
and ran to save the two dead boys.
And if you don't believe it's true,
ask the blind man, he saw it too.
To Saraphiel
-A crumpled. burnt piece of paper blowing through the streets of Silvermoon-
[Image below the break]
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More than a slap in the face: Part two
So he isn't dead yet, with "yet" being a key word.
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More than a slap in the face: Part one
Out of the things Tsilas is known for, staying sober is not one of them.
