Free Ship Alara vs The Pirates of Sencliff

[Lycan]

Part 1: The Fool, The Tower and The Devil

His eyes skim across the report board, reading apprehensively and quickly. After reading one report, he moves to another, reading that aswell, trying to make sense of what has happened, straining for some imagined solution. After a few moments he gives up and resolves himself to simply staring at a spot on the floor, and then finally; slumps down against the wall, his swords banging noisily on the axehold floor as he does so.

"Well this is quite the bloody pickle. Sergeant Ezekiel has left for the mainland. Sergeant Imrodi is captured and the First Axe with her aswell.." He speaks, as he often does when alone, to the unresponsive form of himself, standing in the corner with one hand behind its back.

A few days earlier, Sergeant Imrodi met a man named Eric Whistler at the Guldorand shipyard. Sergeant Imrodi of the Shields of Guldorand had acquired the rites to a ship she dubbed the Alara, and was organising a crew for regular voyages between Skaljard and the nearby Islands. The man seemed anxious and excited, pacing back and forth infront of a campfire and waiting impatiently for the rest of the crew. After some time, they began to realise that this was all the Crew that was coming.

"Looks like its just us" Said Imrodi, with her hand on her hip, shaking her head at the poor turn out. The man grinned, as he often did. "Just the skeleton crew" He said. The elf woman nodded. "Well.. with the other Whistler that makes three of us, perhaps we can still do a little site seeing?" She referred to his companion, his second self. A creature that would pour from the mans shadow like a glass of water poured in reverse and which could take the mans appearance and mannerisms, assisting him in combat, or following him around. Together, Imrodi and the Whistlers decided to travel to a place called Blackfin Rock, an Island not to far from the docks and said to be infested by humanoid marine creatures. On arrival they noticed that the Penny Rose was also docked there, spirits were lifted at the potential for finding other friendly companions, and inside Seargeant Imrodi and Recruit Whistler of the shields of Guldorand found two friendly faces. A knight in beautiful full plate armor named Ecelion du Tour and a delightful woman named Charlotte. Together, the creatures of the cave stood no chance, even their leader fell easily to blade and staff. On leaving that place, during the transition between the dark of the cave and the light warm air of the evening; Smiles and jovality transformed in an instant to abject terror as they were confronted by three additional boats and ten to fifteen pirates stood, grinning or staring at their prizes with glee. The pirates, a rag tag crew of various sorts, ogres, goblins, fighters, wizards and rogues of every kind stood among their number. And at their head, a man who could only be the infamous Pirate Lord Danté.

Recruit Whistler blended immedietly with the shadows. His shadow self following suit. His eyes scanning the group quickly for a man. A man from Luskan. A man named Hector Franz.


Part 2: The Man From Luskan

They had met Almost a year earlier in a Frozen waste called Skaljard, Whistler had been summoned there by his good friend Ederick Otori who spoke of great riches to be plundered in the surrounding mountains. Whistler was refered to a man named Hector Franz, a man they say was cursed by Beshaba, a most unfortunate man who had once gotten into a card game with some dangerous pirates in Luskan and won a great deal of money from them. The pirates took the loss personally and decided to hunt him down. Hector, in a drunken state, decided to escape from Luskan entirely instead of trying to hide, but due to his drunkeness, or perhaps the will of Besheba; he accidently stowed himself on the ship of the very pirates' who sought him. They found Hector there and left him on a desert island with no drinkable water or food to eat. Only a gonne with one bullet. When all hope was lost and death seemed to be his only escape he discovered to his dismay that the gonne they had left him, was broken. As fate would have it he was later rescued from the desert island by a merchant ship that took him to Skal. When he got to Skal, he immedietly got into a dispute with the dockowner who from that day forward, vowed never to allow Hector passage to Guldrorand, and he could by no magical means leave that place. Despite several attempts.

As Whistler and the man from Luskan worked together for the mayor of Skal, Whistler fixed the mans gun for him and smelted his ores for a side project. As they worked together an affinity and a kinship grew between the pair. Two victims of circumstance with a less than rosey past. Both having found themselves at one time or another on the wrong side of the law, had found eachother in that frozen Hell, and their stay there was made almost bearable by it. Whistler and Hector promised eachother then that they would find a way off that rock together. A promise that was ultimately broken by Whistler. He had met a woman referred to as 'The Ghost of Skal' a group working with the frostblades to stamp out evil incursions in Skal before they got the chance to arrive on the mainland. Whistler was feeding them information in exchange for passage across the ocean for Hector and Himself. However, Whistler; a man notoriously and often suicidally action oriented had to be suddenly extracted from Skal by the frostblades when the Loviatar Cultists (the very people he had been reporting on) and their leader Sheris Fane took offense to him very publically executing a necromancer in the centre of Skal.

In an instant, Whistler had gone from the freezing winds of Skal to a place he would later learn was named Sibayad. A deplorable hive of scum and villainy that burns constantly in the opressive desert sun. He spent many weeks travelling, meeting and learning of the places, people and systems in place on the Island of Arelith untill he happened upon the mountain town of Guldorand. The first face he saw was that of the recently Elected Mayor Laura, with a stern and already tired face. Who almost immedietly recommend he join the shields. Reluctant at first but eventually joining in appreciation of the towns acceptance of him and his other self, which he had worked so hard to hide for such a long time. Whistler was a secretive man who bore a dark secret regarding the unfortunate events that took place during his other selfs first manifestation. A secret he only ever felt the need to share with one man, the man from Luskan, Hector Franz.

Three months after leaving that frozen waste, they met again. And they were happy again in eachothers company, exploring the nearby isles, fishing, smoking, drinking and discussing their exploits. Hector had found a life for himself among the pirates and freefolk of Sencliff, who had eventually recruited the man from Skal. Presenting them with the guns, munitions and explosives that Whistler and he had worked together on for so many months. Whistler, while dismayed at his friends decision to join the people of Sencliff, was always secretly envious of the mans new found freedom and wealth. It was there, at the mans quarters in Sencliff by the fireplace (a luxury that was never afforded him in his room in Skal, but which seemed rather superfluous there in Sencliff) that Whistler divulged his darkest secret.
Ofcourse, the Man from Luskan didnt care. Whistlers sordid little secret didnt bother him atall. Hector was accepting of all types. Good or bad, rich or poor. Aslong as they didnt encroach on the mans freedom, he would do his best to get along with them. It was perhaps the mans greatest blessing, but also his worst flaw. They went on a number of adventures together, the Man from Luskan even attended the Guldorand Mage Festival, where Whistler was on security detail. He arrived under the guise of a wizard named Mr Barrington, complete with rediculous beard and staff. Whistler was angry with him for showing up, but also happy to see his friend again. He was happy for him him to stay, but warned him to stay out of trouble. Deep down, Whistler knew that Hector was a good man, and so their friendship had continued in this way, secretly.
Whistler was later approached by a friend in the frostblades. A wonderful and wily elf named Valeera who Whistler was very fond of. They had met in Skal also, and she had tracked him down many weeks later in Cordor to deliver the mans order that he had left with the women in Skal before his untimely departure, some beautiful displacer beast armor and a cloak, hand made by that wonderful elf. She informed him that Parchir (a man Hector and Whistler had previously believed to be a dragon in human form) had been taken captive by the pirates of Sencliff, she requested his aid in the retrieval of Parchir. Whistler had always avoided conflict with the pirates, and refused to help the women lest he was forced draw swords against his friend, the man from Luskan. He had always avoided pirates, avoided Hector during his working hours; untill that fateful day, that day on Blackfin Rock. In the mouth of that cave. Under the setting sun, with the cool ocean breeze. Whistlers Heart sank as he peered over the grinning faces of those pirates, and a man named Hector Franz, walked down the boarding plank and onto the sand.


Part 3: The Knight of Cups

"Dont do anything stupid, we're here for your boats. Boats can be rebuilt." The Pirate Danté spoke over the chuckling and murmuring of the eager faced pirates. Discussion between the elf Imrodi and Danté continued as Whistler moved in behind his friend, drawing his blade in absolute silence and weighing the situation in his mind. In that moment, he was angry with his friend. He had warned him to stear clear of the free ship Alara, but now here he was, this was the situation he had been trying to avoid for all those months. But could he really now kill his friend, here and now in cold blood? Whistler simulated it in his mind as he clenched the handles of his swords tightly, he imagined the blades going through the mans back and coming out the front, his blood and entrails spilling out onto the sand. He was little more than three paces away. It would be easy, but is that what he wanted? In any case, the other pirates would kill him for it if he couldnt get away afterwards. In that moment, the decision was made for him. A demon spawn must have spotted Whistlers second self, and charged on him unexpectedly, driven by some base instinct.
All hell broke lose as a dozen blades were drawn simultaneously and half a dozen spells were prepared for casting. Whistler charged the short distance between himself and his friend, raising his blades in the air but then freezing at the last moment. A bombardment of forceful spells crashed into Whistlers side, sending him reeling and almost obliterating him immedietly. In the chaos, it looked like the man from Luskan cast an invisibility spell on him, and Whistler stumbled off into the shadows heading east as his shadowself fell under the axe of a giant ogre, he stumbled away from the fray followed by Hector in a mock game of cat and mouse. "Get out of here, Whistler!" he whispered in harsh tones to his already retreating form. "Dragon!" Shouts were heard from the cave entrance as Imrodi shifted into the form of an immense winged creature which boar down on the pirate hoard mercilessly flinging their hapless bodies left and right. Whistler slumped down in a patch of tall grass to apply some field medicine to staunch the wounds and stop the bleeding, but by the time he had blended back to the shadows and made his way to the beach, the dragon had already been subdued, and his comrades were being resurected into their bodies, bound by ropes. "Unsummon that bastard devil!" Screamed Danté clearly furious with the way the combat had been initiated without orders. They took the elf Imrodi as a prize, and left the island. In the chaos, they left the man Parchir behind on the beach. Ecelion, Charlotte, Parchir and Whistler took the frostblades vessel (presumably stolen by the pirates at some point) back to Guldorand at full sail in a fruitless attempt to summon Imrodi to them there and find a way to remove Parchirs collar before the pirates realised that he was missing. Unfortunately, no mage could be reached to remove the collar, and Imrodi had already been bound to her own collar. Parchir informed them that they perform the collaring in Sibayad, and after sending word to First Shield Derristan Barley, they head there together, only to be confronted by the aftermath of the pirates visit. A town rocked by a recent attack, the pirates had continued north through the desert towards the smuggler on the coast. The shields gave chase but arrived at the smuggler just a few moments to late, the ship still visible at sea. Cursing the smuggler and vowing vengeance, Whistler as previously mentioned is a notoriously action oriented man, often suicidally so. He snapped a portal lense to head to sencliff alone. He had attuned himself to the portals magics their during his visits to see his friend to make his visits more convenient.
Blending with the shadows, he made his way through town to the Sencliff Docks where they were deciding what to do with the elf Imrodi. He had intended to perform reconaisance but was immedietly presented with an interesting oportunity. Danté sent the man from Luskan and several others into Sencliff town to keep an eye out. 'To late.' Whistler thought and moved in behind Danté who was several meters from his comrades and exposed, placing a knife under his throat and revieling himself to him. "Take off that collar and let the girl go or he dies!"he said, looking over the faces of the remaining pirates. "Imrodi, you should tell this man to put the knife down and get out of here before someone gets hurt" Said the man Danté. Imrodi eyed whistler pleadingly. "Whistler, please. Just save yourself." She said. The pirates in the vacinity were frozen in place, not daring to risk their leader. Except one. The giant ogre with the monstrous axe that Whistler had encountered on the beach, the same axe that had sent his other self back to the shadows there. He licked his lips noisily before speaking up. "I already killed this one *confused look* uh.. How long do humies take ta die after their throat is opened?" he grinned, a plan obviously forming in his mind. "I mean it! Remove the collar or he dies! NOW!" Whistler screamed, the sweat pouring from his face. Camoflaged with black soot. In that instant, several things happened instaneously. A spell was cast, summoning Danté a few metres away to safety and the ogre boar down on Whistler swinging his axe as Whistler moved back into the Shadows. In the same instant Danté could be heard screaming an order to the ogre "No!" in attempt to prevent the inevitable bloodshed. Whistler felt the axe graze his right shoulder as he dodged and melded with the shadows, quickly fleeing the area. He headed south towards the manor, pacing for awhile in the shadows and contemplating his next move. He hurried back to the dock entrance and stood to listen to a mage relay a report to Danté "I saw him near the Manor" he stated. 'Shit, they must be scrying me' thought Whistler, he stayed a little longer there, untill a messenger arrived to Parchir, who had made his way there, the message was from First Axe Derristan Barley, captain of the shields and he was requesting a summons. 'This is getting worse and worse' Whistler thought heading in to town to look for a messenger to warn his captain not to come. While searching, he noticed the ogre who had taken a swing at him and felled his shadow setting up counter reconaisance measures, the ogre moved into a patch of trees, seemingly alone, Whistler moved in behind him in an attacking position before he suddenly dissapeared. 'I dont have time for this, i need to warn the captain' he thought, disenganging and moving away. At that moment a horrendous chittering screaching sound came from behind him as the ogre transformed into a disgustingly large and chittering Umberhulk "*chitter chitter* FOUND HIM! HES HERE!" the Umberhulk bawked. With his adapted eyes, whistler was clearly visible to him. 'This is no good, if he can see me i have no hope of relaying a message, i will have to kill him' Whistler thought, summoning his shadowself and charging the creature. At that moment everything instantly went black (DC 38 fortitude save death magic, thanks for that -.-)

When whistler came to, he was surrounded by two dozen pirates, with his captain and his sergeant in chains, he had failed. A few people had made their way to the island from the mainland in a futile attempt at rescue, and all hope was lost. Spitting blood and on deaths door. Whistler was then unceremoniously kicked to the curb, an unwanted prize, his freedom granted in exchange for his superiors absolute cooperation and subsequent collaring. Taunted by some monster of a man, strangely terrifying, who seemed drawn to his still bleeding wounds. He screams vengeance at the Umberhulks, the Ogres, the Vampires, the Goblins, the Mad Fighters, the Disillusion Mages and the Broken Rogues. He curses the Wayward Monks, Assassins, Smugglers, the tired and the poor people of Sencliff.. and reluctantly, he flees to Guldorand.


Part 4: To be continued..

The man looks up, there is a red stain and patches of dry blood around his mouth and on his armor.

"It was an Ambush.. we didnt stand a chance" He says moments later, after replaying the events and everything that lead to them in his mind. His unresponsive form listening ever vigalantly to his words. He sighs. "From what i could gather from Parchir, Danté will try to bend Imrodi to his will like he did Parchir, he is planning on building a dragon army, he is obsessed with the idea. And when he gets his army, he is planning on wiping Cordor, Guldorand, Bendir and Myon from the map. Meanwhile, I expect he will taunt us with Mr Barley, keep us focused on that and keep us disorganised while he moves other pieces into play". He frowns, deep in thought. "I doubt a diplomatic envoy will do any good. What a mess.." He pauses for a moment, head in hands, and then raises his head slowly. "Perhaps.. perhaps if we could get everyone involved. we might stand a chance..the elves, the dwarves, the men and the small folk. Together." He stares at himself, and himself stares back, a slow grin creeps across the shadows face, untill it becomes a wide, devlish grin. Whistler sits on the floor of the axehold, cold, alone and uncertain.

[Lycan]

Sorry about the wall of text, got a bit out of hand. Let me know if you want me to change anything to make it work better with your own stories and imaginings.

[Brandon Steel]

Just wanted to point out that the “troll” was an ogre. It was enjoyable to read this from the other point of view, thanks for the write up!

[Lycan]

Just wanted to point out that the “troll” was an ogre. It was enjoyable to read this from the other point of view, thanks for the write up!

Thanks i realised it should have been ogre at some point but kept typing troll anyway for some reason. I should have changed all the trolls into ogres now. Sorry about that!

[Lycan]