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The Blacke Letter; Part 7 |
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Old Jerek wasn’t having such luck; in fact, he was having better. He had one very likely candidate following him and also helping him to look for others. She was an Ibaras like Tyrsse, but somewhat elderly with a raspy voice like smoked woven wicker and a harsh wit and words to back like the lash of a whip. She was slightly elderly like Jerek, or at least looked it with the odd patch of silver in her fur and on her pelt, spattered like rain. The elderly Ibaras was also a one that knew her way around a ship, backward and forward, blindfolded; she’d been on a ship most of her days and although retired, couldn‘t resist joining, especially after hearing of our plans. Her name was Circe and she could be quite strict; like a school teacher, hardened after many years of teaching misbehaved children. She could be yelling and ranting one minute and then be praising and congratulating someone the next minute. Jerek knew Circe would probably ge the job, but he had to be certain with me. With her attitude, she may questions orders from a young captain like myself, or try to turn them around on me. He hoped it wouldn’t matter too much though - he had found an excellent galley cook in her. Jerek also had confidence in Circe liking me - she had had children once but both had been lost long ago from her life, but she had loved them dearly. Circe had once been a ship’s captain in the Noctron Armada which meant she may be a useful advisor. But the best thing that would get her on my ship was that, having been a part of the Noctron Armada, she was well-acquainted with Streek Vervain. She brought with her, not only a strong hatred for the Markien captain, but also a bone to pick with her. She just may get along with Shinara too….
As Jerek and Circe chatted amiably, they kept an eye out for anybody or anyplace that seemed a likely target for recruiting good able-bodied crewmen. As the two elderly crewmen made their way past one empty dock, loaded merely with empty and discarded crates and sailcloth, Jerek tripped and fell flat on his face. He stood quickly, brushing himself down as Circe asked if he were alright. “Fine, Ah’m fine. What’d Ah trip over anyway?” They looked over to a small giggling Flurid on the ground. He was flat on his back, laughing and pointing at Old Jerek. “You felled onna face! Was funny too!” the tiny Flurid was very young and hardly out of infancy. He was brown, very round and fluffy, and rather plain looking with a few ruffled wing and tail feathers protruding from the shirt that was much too large for him. He had the largest owl eyes that both Jerek and Circe had ever seen and on his beak was a very large pair of sunglasses to obscure the sunlight from his sensitive eyes. “You fall ova me!” he laughed a childish laugh, answering Jerek’s question at the same time. He got up where he had fallen over and walked over to stand before Jerek. He was so short and also fat and it made him waddle in a cute childish way when he walked. “Ah beg yer pardin’ little feller.” Jerek apologized, genuinely sorry. “I didn’t see you at all down there!” He and Circe both crouched down to speak more face-to-face with the youngster and Jerek held out an old gnarled paw to the Flurid. “Ah’m Jerek an’ this ‘ere’s Circe. Mind meh askin’ wot ye be doin’ out here all alone?” The owl hopped up, slapping Jerek’s offered paw in a good natured and playful high-five with soft flimsy primary feathers, mistaking the offered pawshake for an offered high-five. “Blinkie no alone, greydog! Blinkie stay here!” Old Jerek blinked and Circe asked Blinkie “Stay here? Are you lost? There are an awful lot of people around here….” The little owl puffed out his chest and hopped backward onto the deck in front of one crate. “Blinkie no lost! Blinkie own dis dock, and you bigga dog and bigga cat is trespassingk!” Blinkie splayed his short tail fathers indignantly. “It alla mine! Me live here and nobody else but me an’ me Mama!” Jerek chuckled and backed away, playing along. “And this whole deck is yours? Weel, Ah’ll be sure tae no step foot on yer deck, Master Blinkie.” Blinkie grinned happily and swiped a stick off the ground and brandished it threateningly. “Yeah! Das right! No step ova here or you be kill-dead! Blinkie make ya dead!” he hopped up onto a small crate so as to be higher up to talk to Jerek and Circe. Circe chuckled behind a paw and placed a paw on Jerek’s shoulder. “I think the little rogue means business, Jerek. What do you say we leave quick-like before the fearsome Blinkie decides to chop us up with his trusty sword there?” “Blinkie!” came a soft, but somewhat reprimanding voice from behind the little owl. “Blinkie, what’ve I told you about yelling at the tourists?” Blinkie immediately dropped the stick as a thin, older female owl Flurid stepped out from behind a makeshift tent of crates and sailcloth. She scooped up the fat little Blinkie in her wings, holding him close as he straightened the glasses on his beak and lowered his eyes guiltily. “Uh, Blinkie wasn’t yellin’ at ‘em…. Blinkie was just playin’ Mama! Asides, they’s no tourists! They’s gurt strong pirates!” Blinkie nodded for emphasis. Blinkie’s mother smiled and set Blinkie on the ground and then addressed Circe and Old Jerek. “I’m sorry if the little ruffian’s been bothering you two. He’s just a little overzealous and pirate-obsessed. He means no harm, really.” the kindly old mother owl smiled warmly at the Ibaras and Sirin as Blinkie scuffled around on the ground, suddenly preoccupied with seeing how quickly he could scuffle circles around his mother. Blinkie’s mother was a compassionate and sweet Flurid and Jerek and Circe couldn’t help but like her and her playful son. She was lean and pretty too and not nearly as fat and fluffy as her son. She wore a long tattered dress but did not wear sunglasses like Blinkie, even though she did squint a bit. “Tha’s quite alright Miss. He weren’t doin’ no ‘arm. Really cute lil’ kid ya got there though.” Jerek smiled and nodded truthfully. Blinkie’s mother smiled back and offered one feathered wing. “My name is Filorn and I’m sure you’ve already met Blinkie. And thank you. What brings you to our lonely little dock at the edge of the port?” “Mah name’s Jerek and this is my friend Circe. Pleased ter meetcha!” Jerek shook her hand gently, trying not to crush long slender primary feathers. Blinkie puffed out his chest again and fluttered his short wings to land clumsily back on the crate he had stood on before. “Yeah! Whatchoo doin’ onna our deck?” “Actually, we’re lookin’ fer members fer a crew. Yew wouldn’t happen to know of anyone lookin’ fer sich a job, would yer?” Filorn at first looked hopeful, but then sighed softly. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t. I wish I could help you out though….” “Take me! Take me! Takes da Blinkie! Blinkie wants’a be a pirate! Blinkie gooda pirate! See!” Blinkie whipped his sunglasses off and without a second to spare, popped the lens from one frame and slipped the glasses back on his beak. “See! Arr! Grr! Blinkie’s a gooda pirate!” Old Jerek and Circe laughed heartily as Blinkie strutted proudly across the crate, hunched and trying his very best to look like a scraggly pirate rogue. “Haharr! That ye are, liddle Blinkie!” Filorn sighed again and smiled halfheartedly at her son before picking up the discarded sunglass lens. “Good thing the lens are meant to do that… anyway, Blinkie, I don’t really think that’s the type of crewmen they’re looking for….” Blinkie sat hard and some feather fluffed up around his face as he pouted. “But Blinkie wanna go, and have fun wit da grown-ups….” he mumbled. Jerek looked at the sad, pouting little ball of feathers sitting on the crate and his heart went out to him. “Er, ahem, Miss Filorn? If you’ll excuse my arskin’, are you two actually livin’ ‘ere? On this ‘ole dock?” Filorn scooped up Blinkie, saying “We’ve no where else to go, so we’ve set up home here. See these crates? They’re all disguised; we live in them. It’s our home.” “Aw, Miss, Ah carn’t stand ter see ya’s stayin’ out here. How’d yew two like jobs aboard The Silencer? Ye’ll be well-paid, well-fed, an’ well-housed, and the rest of the crew is arful friendly.” Filorn’s seemingly forever sad eyes reflected hope, but just for a moment. “But do you think your captain will approve of two tag-a-longs? We’re by no means qualified for sailing….” “Bless yer ‘eart, Miss! O course she would! Chase’s the nicest lass ye’d ever like ter meet!” Circe rolled her eyes. “Aye, that’s what he told me.” Filorn fidgeted. “But what about Blinkie? Will he like it there?” Jerek winked at her. “Aye, I think he’ll fit right in….” Filorn smiled happily. “Well then, if you insist, we should at least give it a try. I can’t thank you enough! Living on a ship must be better than living in a box on the streets!” Jerek nodded approvingly and Circe agreed. “Blinkie; you hear that? We’re going to be sailors!” Blinkie hopped out of Filorn’s arms and hopped and fluttered around gleefully. “Yay! Blinkie getsa be Captain! Where’sa ship?” “The ship’s this way, liddle Blinkie!” Jerek pointed and led the way. “Just keep up and foller us! Ah’m sure the crew will love to have you aboard!”
Even Shinara had made an effort to find some suitable beast for my crew. She wanted off this port quickly and helping out would get the job done quicker. Besides, Shinara wanted to choose someone she may be able to get along with rather than having to deal with any soft rag-tag ruffians that any of the rest of us dragged back. It was almost guaranteed that she’d hate most any of the others that were brought back as potential applicants. The sinister stealthy figure walked among the people of the crowd rather than flying above so as to attract no attention. She didn’t exactly look the friendly sort, so if seen gliding low over the crowd she may cause a bit of chaos. Not to mention, she didn’t see too many other winged beasts flying either… and not a one was like her; she was rare species, at least in this part of the universe. The system was a more colder one than Occhrael so not many of her kind ventured over here. But here, not even the Flurid flew unless they were aboard their ship or doing a particular job that required it. Most crews had at least one winged member; they were quite the useful addition to any crew. Sails could be unfurled and masts scaled in the blink of an eye rather than having to send an entire shipload of crew beasts up in the rigging which not only took time, but could very well be dangerous during nebular storms or broadside battles in the air-free darkened recesses of space. Shinara did not want to be the one stuck doing those jobs, and she knew she would be called upon if she were the only winged beast aboard and she knew she would also have to do it if she expected to survive during the fast paced situations that may call her up into the masts and jibs in the first place. She wasn’t sure if Lapis was willing or even able to fly; she did have paws, and feathers, but no sign of wings, at least from what could be seen. With all this in mind, Shinara kept an eye out for something with wings; preferably something like herself, however unlikely. A good climbing Cheen wouldn’t be a bad idea either. As she approached one dock, she saw, through a gap in the crowd, myself pick-pocketing every single civilian within pawreach. Shinara smirked as she watched a moment; such stupid victims. Then, she was nearly bowled right over onto her back by some small speeding creature as she turned to walk away. Shinara was up in an instant, ready to berate the idiot foolish enough to have run into her. A young female Markien was getting up off the ground, some feet away, a paw held to her head as Shinara glared angrily at her. “Don’t you watch where you’re going?!” Shinara hissed moodily, brushing herself down. Realizing the bat was talking to her, the tiger-striped Markien spat back at her in the same manner “Well don’t you have some place to be instead a standin’ in the middle of the aisle like that?!” Shinara was slightly taken aback by the straightforward snotty attitude the young kit thrust at her in a full torrential gale but as the two fuming creatures stood glaring at each other, Shinara knew that she’d found a capable person for the crew. She could probably get along with this snotty little Markien and she was also roughly the same age as myself and the same species as well. Just for that I might let her aboard. Besides, Markien were just as good at climbing as Cheen were. But would she take orders with grace and dignity..? Trying to be subtle about bringing it up, Shinara sidled up to the kit, a small smirk playing across her shadowed vicious features. “Where were you going in such a hurry anyway?” The Markien crossed her arms at her chest, staring done her short snout at the bat, a cross expression on her face. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” She sneered. “If it really means anything now, I was headed for the police, so don’t mess with me! They know me there!” “Do you work there?” “No, but I do plenny of jobs for ‘em; they really should pay me!” Shinara smirked so that the kit could see it. “Well, I just so happen to be hiring for a well paying job, and we could use someone like you. You look capable… and quick too. We’ll need that in a crew beast.” The tiger striped Markien eyed her levelly but suspiciously. “You hirin’?” Shinara nodded. “You the captain?” “No, but back to ship to meet her will be our first stop if you’d like a job sailing.” “Just sailing? How boring! What kinda ship you runnin’? Just merchant? Cuz that stuff ain’t fer meh.” “No, we’re not merchant traders… In fact, I’m not even a real member of that crew. But if I tell you our business and it happens to not be your style either - seeing as you were just headed to the police anyway - I’ll be forced to stop you. Change your course and forget your original intentions and come with me, or forget we ever met and I’ll ensure our paths never cross again. Your choice.” Shinara said in a low tone. Shinara stood and waited while the girl contemplated this offer. She was uncertain; she had been headed to the police on a not-so-urgent mission with no hopes of being paid for her trouble anyway, and here was this sinister looking bat asking if she’d like a paying job but also threatening to stop her should she decline after knowing the offer. If she wanted to know what the job was, then she would also have to be asking to hired. To know the job was to be hired for it. She would have to think on this - but not for long - if the job was as secret - and probably as dangerous - as it was made out to be that the bat would not allow her to return to her former task of going to the police, then it must be good and also come with good pay. “Alright! I’ll take whatever job you got! I wasn’t too worried about getting’ to the police anyway!” She lied about not wanting to go to the police; she would’ve loved nothing more than to have seen the person she ratted out thrown in jail but she put it behind her anyway. “So, what kinda job is this now?” Shinara lowered her voice yet more and took the kit aside against one large leathery wing, leading her away from the crowd. “Looting! Looting and pirating and pillaging and fighting! You get whatever you take and then some later; we’re pirates. There’s tons of them out there, I know, and thousands captured, but that won’t happen to us; we’re different.” The Markien was hanging on her every word and Shinara found that as young eyes watched and the innocent mind slipped into the story eagerly, that she thought back to me - the meeting in the bar and the lies she fed me - but this time they were true and most importantly, she herself believed them. Was Shinara really not a part of this crew? “I’ll take the job!” The Markien interrupted even before Shinara had finished. Shinara was inclined to continue but stopped. “You’ve got no choice now anyway. Welcome aboard; never thought I’d say that… What’s your name then?” “The name’s Sithanne, but call me Silth; Sithanne’s stupid.” Absently Silth followed Shinara as she walked away. “And I am Shinara… but call me by name to my face and you’re dead.” Silth cocked an ear. “Then what do I call you?” she scoffed at the notion as she jostled her way through the crowd, with Shinara shoving people aside in her wake. “Don’t call me at all. If you speak to me, I will know it.” “Pffth. Whatever.” Silth scoffed again. “I’ll probably fergit the name anyway.” Shinara sniffed. “Hm, yes… Keep following and don’t get lost.” Shinara pressed on ahead of her, dismissing any further talk. Silth mocked her rudely behind her back unaware that Shinara was completely aware of it. How could Silth get lost?
Of all of the first three crewmen that I had hired, the one with the best of luck locating new members was the mercenary. Lapis led three able-bodied applicants through the crowd from the opposite end of the port. Two were Ibaras - one male and one female - and the other was Salan. They were dressed roughly the same as lapis, but not wearing hoods. The female Ibaras was elaborately dressed and very confident in her movements, lean, lithe, and very self-absorbed. She may not qualify for a good worker, but she may be useful on watch or navigation. She was the type that would throw a tantrum about breaking a nail and not get over it until the end of next week. Work to her was little people’s business. Hazel was an aristocratic Ibaras who thought her easy free life was a bore and sought something better and more compelling. Lapis took her along, confident that she’d be wailing to be let off ship at next port within a few days. Sure, Hazel probably was a bit bored of the easy life, but seeking out something like this surely was an attempt from an attention-seeking child. Anything for the drama, as Hazel would put it. She was also, to put it bluntly, a drop-dead gorgeous specimen of a golden furred lioness. Lithe and demure, backed by beauty and charm would get her anything, any time. Lapis took her aboard to show her that it was not true that “peasants” got to do all the fun things without working for it. A job on a pirate ship would straighten Hazel out in a hurry. The male Ibaras was nothing compared to Hazel except to match in beauty and charm. He was serious and stern-faced and most probably a perfectionist. He looked more like he’d be a knight in shining armor from the past with his stunning red silk cloak and bright gleaming longsword at his waist. Red for courage and steel for the fighting spirit. The way he commanded and worked and the presence that he was made him seem like the squire’s worst enemy. Brave and courageous, powerful and gallant, strict and proud, and just and true, this finely dressed lion with the stunning mane of white went only by the name of Prince. He looked the very image so the name fit perfectly. The only thing that Prince seemed to lack was a sense of humor. It was all he lacked and he seemed to have everything else; all in the most perfect way. Prince almost seemed emotionless, but he could be angry and also sad, and he could indeed smile and be proud. But Prince; Prince of Pirates, could not - would not - laugh. Laughing was one thing he had given up. As soon as his father was proclaimed dead and killed by pirates, he never laughed again. Perhaps that one moment was what drove his humor away as he vowed to seek out and conquer them all. But how did such a just and true person happen to come into the services of the very ones who killed his father? Prince of Pirates was just that. He himself had arranged the murder of his father and took his place as the new ruler. He commanded them all and frightened them all, ruling with an iron paw that reached across perhaps three systems. But awhile ago, the Prince of Pirates had fallen upon hard times. Many of his followers and subject preferred more free pillaging and less of the “Leaving the pillaged alive” rule that Prince had lain down. Prince had tried to make them all like him; fair and compassionate, but also greedy enough to steal. His subjects rose up with a new leader and Prince was overthrown; forgotten and never again allowed among the badbeasts and the goodbeasts too as long as the employer knew his name and his story. I myself knew the story; knew it so well I could recite it in my sleep and Lapis knew I could not refuse such a crewbeast after what I hoped to do, no matter what his story was. Prince was very much like me. The Salan that followed at somewhat of a distance was a quiet but powerful creature. He was young and powerfully built, massive in size and rippling with muscle and sinew. He seemed naïve and moved silently, but people of the crowd moved out of his way as if hung about his head was a glowing halo of light. His great striped head did not turn to look left or right, nor did the soft brown eyes. He seemed perfectly adept, yet he did nothing different to all other that tried to maneuver the same crowd. The thing that made him a good crewman to have was his strength, and also his obedience. Lapis had not needed a demonstration to see that the huge badger was simply loaded with rippling muscle. He was young and naïve, but seemed not at all to mind what he was doing. When lapis had met him in the restaurant a little while ago, she had not even introduced herself and neither had the badger when she asked him if her in need of a job. She asked him only a few questions, and after the Salan had only simply stared at her in calm quietude, she had gotten up and left. She was surprised to discover him following anyway. He was not blind or deaf as she had originally suspected, just quiet; quiet, young, shy but powerful. The one word he had spoken to her was that his name was Ludo. Lapis was unsure about Ludo, but would not tell him not to follow. He would obey instantly, but lapis did have hopes for him as well. Strength was a very useful thing amongst a crew of mostly females….
As it turned out, Leonardo was a worse thief than I had thought. He was not as good as I was. In fact, as he had terrible luck with trying to “con” another victim, I had my sights set on the same person. I could see plainly why Leo had picked him out; his pockets were full to bursting and it was plainly visible as well as easily heard. He carried one suitcase that was nearly exploding with bills, and it had one missing clasp already. The victim was probably some sort of ambassador or some wealthy stockholder, the way he was dressed with jewel-studded everything. As the pompous oaf flatly refused anything Leonardo tried to pawn off on him, I decided to show him that his methods of stealing frankly were not working. In a ducking weaving pattern that would eventually bring me around to the back of the rich Serain, I snatched small trinkets and any exposed garnet or bills at my height, all the while pretending to be looking around as if lost. As Leo was starting to lose hope in distracting this person enough to be able to steal something from him, he saw a bit of white at ground level in the crowd. He tried to hurry, only making the matter worse. The Serain was only getting frustrated with Leo. Finally, Leonardo showed him the gold watch and silver chain that I had had him steal and at long last, the victim seemed interested - all the better for me. I came up behind the Serain as he was asking questions like if it were real gold, when it was made and all that. As Leo finally had a chance to rob him blind, he noticed the once full pockets completely empty. With a frenzied look around, he saw me, some yards away, unlooping another tailring from a Cheen. I glanced over at Leo innocently, smiled sweetly, slipped the ring from the tail and waved. He glared and fumed and I thought he would shout at me but he couldn’t prove anything from there. The Serain asked to examine the chain and Leonardo forgot me, seething, and looked to the overstuffed suitcase. He was relieved to see the one clasp still intact and in place and with a nonchalant childish stance, he leaned on the suitcase, starting to talk about value and other notions of the chain with the Serain. He slowly, subtly, undid the clasp as the Serain continued to scrutinize the two objects. As the clasp fell open and Leo was allowed a peek inside the suitcase, he had to stifle a cry of rage as he saw that the paper bills were gone; all of them. He looked over to where he had last seen me and was not surprised to see me gone. He looked back up to his victim as he handed the watch back and immediately noticed the missing cufflinks, the missing earring, and the missing belt buckle and 24 karat shirt buttons. How could he beat that? I had snatched shirt buttons and an earring from someone twice my height and size right out from under their nose and his too! Leonardo seethed and bit his lip until he drew blood and then, he walked away; simply strode off, leaving the Serain with half a question asked. The confused former victim watched him go and shrugged. Moodily, Leo went back to the meeting place to sit and wait out the last fifteen minutes of the competition. I was well aware that the Serian had quit early, but I was having too much fun in this easy place. Only when it was starting to get obvious that I crammed tons of valuables did I go back. I did still have the loot from earlier, so I was overloaded, and I needed the garnet out of my mouth because too much was starting to become uncomfortable and soon it would become noticeable. So, at exactly the hour, I met with Leonardo. He fumed at the sight of me; it was like seeing that the money cat really did know where the money tree grew. My sash was simply no longer enough to hide all the bills and knives, and six rings and two chains was definitely too much for one tail. Several pairs of earring adorned my tattered ear, filling in every hole or slit that had previously been there, and every toe and finger on every paw had at least two rings. When I grinned cheekily at Leo, sunlight sparkled across gleaming garnet that seemed to stain my teeth a mocking blood red. Dangling from their chains was another seven watches and wallets at my waist from the sash. Plenty of jewelry was clasped, pinned or buckled elsewhere upon the fabric sash making it glitter more like a bright sequin studded banner than anything else. My words were only slightly slurred by the garnet and I asked Leo “Well, what’d yew git, laddie?” His floppy ears drooped. “I got two wallets anna purse…” He mumbled and sighed. “Yeh beat meh lass, now jus’ leave ma in meh own humiliation…” I shrugged and sat beside him, placing a glittering but reassuring paw on his shoulder. “Aye, but ye ain’t all bad. Yew did actually steal somethin’ and that shows a lot. Ye need mostly bravery and stealth to steal and if ya told one of those random softies out there to steal from someone, they’d not have a clue how ter start! They’d be too afraid to make a move fer fear a bein’ caught! But you’re braver than even me; you got some certain style. Ah respect that now. Yer braver than meh; yew talk right to yer victims an’ still git yer loot. I’ve only done that once and that was just a few hours ago with some guy’s wallet and cufflinks.” I gave him a wholehearted smile. “‘Sides, Ah haven’t seen yer other skills yet. Poisoinin’ was it?” “So you’ll hire me?” He hopped up eagerly, his scruffy tail wagging behind him. I grinned up at him. “Maybe.” “Alroight!” He cheered. “So about poisonin’. Wot yew want done ter prove I’m good?” I eyed one of the flasks in his belt. “Well, wot you got is some of dem bottles, eh?” He removed several, saying “Um, well, this’un’s just a real strong mixture a that ole rat poison from the dark ages that’s illegal now - mostly used fer peoples I hate - kills ’em slow an’ painful like, ayellin’ and gaggin’. ’Tis real funny sometimes actually.” te mixture in the small bottle was a greenish brown color and bubbled just a bit every time he made the liquid move. “Wot yew got in there to make it all bubbly like that? Not all rat poison that.” “Oh, yeah, just a bit a H-C-L fer the burnin’. Quite an evil little potion this.” He selected another vial and shook it’s contents. It bubbled ferociously and created a steamy mist that leaked from the tiniest slit in the cork. “This one be’s meh specialty! Dragon’s blood!”
Wolf of Winds · Fri Dec 15, 2006 @ 03:05am · 0 Comments |
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