Post by BlackTomVane on Jul 7, 2007 23:05:05 GMT -5
Black Tom puffed his cigar casually. The knight’s rest was empty, but Tom could tell from the empty bottles and half eaten food it had been a very busy night. He inhaled from his cigar slowly, the lit end glowing. Tom looked around the room slowly as he exhaled the smoke, a thin fog of smoke filling the air around him.
Creeeeek
Thud.
Tom turned slowly, looking to the man who had just walked through the tavern doors. The man walked up to the bar and sniffed the air slightly.
“Nightshade?” The man cast Tom a suspicious glance.
Tom inhaled from the cigar slowly, before turning and looking to him with a slow grin, faint amounts of smoke escaping from between his teeth. “Aye” Tom said, another cloud of smoke escaping from him and filling the air around him.
The man grinned slowly, then looked behind the bar, letting out a sudden sigh. “Great… no service…”
“Look at I’ this way,” Tom said, as he held up and ale bottle casually “With no barmaid, no ones stoppin’ yeh from ‘oppin’ back thar an’ ‘elpin’ yarself”
The man chuckles some. “But… isn’t the stealing” he said sarcastically.
“Nonsense!” Tom tilted his head back as he took a long drink of free ale. “Was merely salvagin’! The way ah see I’, this ale was goin’ undrunk when ah walked in ‘ere. So, only made sense to drink I’ mahself. No sense in good ale goin’ to waste!”
The man grinned slowly. “You wouldn’t happen to be a sailor of some sort, would you?”
Black Tom raised a brow slowly at the mans comment.
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard of a mister Nathaniel Hawk…?”
“Aye, ah know ‘im.” Tom said, tapping his cigar casually, some ash falling to the floor.
“I heard from folks in a tavern, that he got into a naval battle recently… he had stolen something rather valuable from Inethria, it would seem.”
“Oh aye?” Tom was listening rather intently at this point.
“I’ve also heard wreckage is starting to wash up on shore somewhere near Vesper. Here’s the deal… if you go gather what he was transporting from the wreckage for me, I’ll help get you all the nightshade you could need”
“Wha’ exactly was Nathan transpor’in’?” Tom asked, before taking another drink from his ale bottle.
“A stole a ring”.
Tom started at him blankly. “A ring…?” He asked. “Thar makin’ this big a deal ovar a ring?”
“I understand it has some importance to Inethria.”
“Eh, alroit… guess I’ won’ ‘urt meh to go track down a ring…”
“Good”. The man smiled. “I never did get your name, mister…?”
“Black Tom Vane!” he said in his usual, cocky voice he always used when introducing himself. The man introduced himself next, but Tom didn’t really bother to listen, he knew he wasn’t going to remember the mans name, anyway.
“Right, meet me at the Minoc tavern once you have the ring.” The man said, turning and leaving the tavern slowly.
“Hmm…” Tom looked into his half empty ale bottle, moving the bottle slowly to swirl the liquid back and forth as he listened to the door swing closed behind him. “Roit….” He said, tilting his head back and gulping down what remained of his ale. “Time to go fin’ this little ring…”
Several hours later
Tom walked along the beach slowly, approaching the wreckage. “Finally…” He thought to himself. He had been walking along the Vesper shores for hours before finding where the remains of Nathan’s ship had washes on shore.
Tom looked around the area slowly. Pieces of ship and cargo were lying all around. Tom walked along the beach slowly, kicking random pieces of wood and rubble out of his way. “Bu’ whars… ah, thar you are!” He thought to himself as he saw Nathan lying motionless in the sand. Nathan was covered in multiple bruises, and one of his legs looked broken. He was holding an ale bottle in one hand that he must have been lucky enough to find among the wreckage within his reach. Tom walked over to Nathan slowly, pieces of rubble creaking and snapping below his feet.
“’Ey, you alive?” Tom looked down at Nathan. He wasn’t moving. “Hmm... ‘Ey, giddup!” Tom kicked some sand at Nathan. His eyes closes tighter as the sand hit his face. Tom glanced to the ale bottle, grinning to himself. He leaned down and wrapped his hand around it slowly, Nathan gripping it tighter as he tried to pull it away.
Nathan jerked awake suddenly, drawing a knife buried in the sand and pointing it directly at the ale thief. “Oh…” Nathan said, his voice sounding exhausted. “Fanceh seein’ you ‘ere…”
Tom grinned slowly, releasing Nathan’s ale and it plopped into the sand with a loud thud with Nathan’s hand still ahold of it.
“Damn…” Nathan groaned, looking down at his broken leg. “This ‘urts worse than tha’ time tha’ Brandon fecker sho’ meh in the leg!”
Tom smirked. “Well ah’m sure all the salt doesn’ ‘elp the pain… although I’ will ‘elp preven’ infection, if ah understan’ correc’ly.” Tom said, as he started to kick rubble around.
“’Ey, think you coul’ drag meh back t’ town, mate…?” Nathan asked in a fairly louder voice, trying not to be drowned out as Tom noisily dug through the rubble, tossing pieces off wood aside. “Wha’ the ‘ell are yeh doin’ back thar anyway…?” Nathan slowly sat upright, looking over his shoulder at Tom.
“Oh, jus’… clearin’ the area fer yeh! Canno’ drag yeh away with all this crap layin’ aroun’, yar likely to ge’ gashed by a piece of rubble.” Tom continued to move broken pieces of wood around as he talked. Muttering a different curse word for every time he moved a piece of rubble without finding a ring under it. “’Ey Nathan, ‘ow did yeh ge’ ou’ ‘ere, anyways…?” Tom of course already knew the answer to this, or at least had a good guess, but he thought by bringing it up in conversation he might be able to trick Nathan into mentioning the ring, or better yet… where he hid it.
“Go’ into a figh’ with a Bitt’ ship.” Nathan replied. “Both ships sank, an’ ah washed up ‘ere”.
“Yeh mus’ ‘ave been transpor’in’ somethin’ pretty valuable fer them to attack yeh loik tha’…” Tom said, scratching his beard. “Wha’ was I’, exac’ly?”
“”Ad a ton o’ zoogi in crates.”
“Was tha’ all…?”
“Wha’s with all the questions, mate…?” Nathan raised a brow slowly. Tom obviously wasn’t going to get him to mention the ring this way.
Tom sighed lightly as he walked over next to Nathan, suddenly kicking his knife away, drawing his rapier and pointing it to Nathan’s neck with an outstretched arm. “The ring, mate… whar is I’?”
“Wha’ the feck!” Nathan nearly yelped. “Wha’ ring?”
“The ring you stole from Inethria! Rumor ‘as I’ you stole a rather valuable ring, an’ ah’ve come to salvage I’…”
“Oi! Ah was jus’ star’in’ those rumors t’ brag! Y’know ah’m full o’ shyte loik tha’!”
“Aye… but, ah also know if yeh was makin’ I’ all up fer attention, yeh would ‘ave made up somethin’ much more impressive than a damn ring…”
“Oi! Why you stealin’ from an’ ol’ friend, anyway!?”
Tom smirked to himself. “Yar one to talk. Ah ‘eard you go’ Buccaneers Den all t’yerself aftar the old Baron ‘vanished’…”
“’Ey! S’no’ mah fal’ if the fecker go’ los’ ou’ a’ sea!”
“Aye, an’ ah’m sure you spen’ well ovar five full minutes lookin’ fer ‘im, too…” Tom rolled his eyes.
“Well you didn’ bother lookin’ fer Dirk when ‘e wen’ missin’, did yeh!?” Nathan replied.
“Ah was a bi’ busy with the DMI on mah arse to worry abou’ his problems… now ‘and ovar the ring…”
“Well ah was busy with Brandon chasin’ meh all ovar yew!” Nathan snapped back
“Aw… ‘ow noice. ‘E didn’ bothar to keep in touch with me…” Tom said as he let out a sarcastic sigh. “Now… whar were we? Oh yes…the FECKING RING!!”
“I ‘old the cards, mate” Nathan smirked. “Yeh won’ kill meh, an’ only ah know whar the ring is”.
Tom glared slowly. At least he had managed to get Nathan do admit he had the ring. Tom took a few steps away, knowing that Nathan wasn’t going anywhere with that leg. Nathan turned and watched Tom, still smirking some.
“’Eres ‘ow I’ works…” Tom said as he pulled out a flask and a match. “You tell meh whar the ring is, or…” Tom tilted his head back as he downed the liquor from the flask. Leaning down some, he struck the match on his boot, lighting it. Nathan watched curiously.
“Or…?” Nathan asked smugly.
Tom held the lit match in front of his mouth, and sprayed the liquor in his mouth into the flame suddenly, “breathing” a huge blast of fire onto the wood rubble surrounding the area.
“Ah feck!!” Nathan yelled, nearly jumping despite his bad leg.
“You ‘ave until the flame consumes yeh or the smoke suffocates yeh to tell meh whar the ring is!” Tom yelled to Nathan, as he took a few steps away from the burning rubble to ensure his own safety.
Nathan’s eyes darted around frantically. The fire was eating away at the rubble, slowly moving from one piece of wood to the next, the blaze growing with every spark and snap.
“Pu’ tha’ shyte ou’!!” Nathan yelled, sounding a bit more desperate than before.
“Tell meh whar the ring is!!” Tom yelled back at him.
“On mah spare boa’! I’s on the wes’ side o’ the Den!” Nathan yelled before starting to cough from all smoke filling the area.
Tom smirked to himself as he walked over the Nathan, grabbing his wrist firmly and dragging him away from the burning rubble growing closer and closer to him. Tom released him and he fell back onto the sand with a thud, coughing loudly.
“’Eres ‘ow I’ works…” Tom said. He was standing confidently over Nathan, smoke still filling the air, glow from near by embers reflecting off Toms dark eyes. “Ah ‘ere you own Buccaneers Den, now. You can keep the title of Baron, I don’ wan’ to deal with tha’ political crap anyway… Yeh can keep yar title, an’ the ring, ah jus’ wan’ to use the Den fer a few of mah operations, an’ take a little off the top of the towns profi’s.”
“Ah’ll give yeh twen’y percen’…” Nathan said, half coughing.
“Soun’s fair enough…” Tom grinned.
“Now ‘elp meh ge’ ou’ o’ ‘ere!” Nathan demanded.
Tom walked over and propped him up, wrapping one of Nathan’s arm over his shoulders and dragging him away.
A few hours later
Tom set Nathan down on a fallen log in Buccaneers Den. Nathan half groaned as he sat down.
“Wha’ did you try to kill meh fer!?” Nathan demanded.
“Ah wasn’ tryin’ to kill yeh, jus’ scare yeh into given meh wha’ ah wanted.” Tom smirked. “Ah suppose the person who hired meh to ge’ the ring won’ beh getting I’, now…”
“Y’mean this?” Nathan asked, taking off his hat and taking an odd looking ring out of the brim. “You ‘ones’ly believe ah ‘ad a ‘spare ship’?” Nathan asked, smirking to himself. “Ah need t’ ge’ a ‘ealer to look a’ mah leg… ge’ meh a walkin’ stick ‘er somethin’.”
Tom glanced around some. Technically, Nathan was the Baron of this town, and it might be best to keep on good terms with him now, so that he’d continue to allow Tom to skim off the towns’ profits. He glanced over to the docks, grinning slowly as he saw a man fishing.
“’Ey, you!” Tom yelled as he hopped onto the dock and walked over to the fisherman, the wood plants creaking under him with each step.
“Y-yes…?” The man asked.
“Ah need tha’! Give I’ ‘ere!” Tom pointed to the mans fishing pole.
“W-what?” The man asked, confused.
“”Er you def ‘er somethin’!? Ah said give I’ ‘ere!” Tom yelled, grabbing the mans fishing pole and yanking it away from him.
“Hey! You can’t jus-…” The mans sentence fell short as Tom punched him violently, blood spraying from the mans nose as he fell backwards into the water with a loud splash.
Tom smirked to himself as he headed back in Nathan’s direction.
“’Ere you are” Tom said, tossing the fishing pole to him.
“Thanks mate” Nathan said as he stood up slowly, using the fishing pole for support. “Ah need t’ ‘ead to the ‘ealers. Don’ ge’ sho’ alroit?”
Tom smirked to himself as he tipped his hat to Nathan. “No promises…”
Creeeeek
Thud.
Tom turned slowly, looking to the man who had just walked through the tavern doors. The man walked up to the bar and sniffed the air slightly.
“Nightshade?” The man cast Tom a suspicious glance.
Tom inhaled from the cigar slowly, before turning and looking to him with a slow grin, faint amounts of smoke escaping from between his teeth. “Aye” Tom said, another cloud of smoke escaping from him and filling the air around him.
The man grinned slowly, then looked behind the bar, letting out a sudden sigh. “Great… no service…”
“Look at I’ this way,” Tom said, as he held up and ale bottle casually “With no barmaid, no ones stoppin’ yeh from ‘oppin’ back thar an’ ‘elpin’ yarself”
The man chuckles some. “But… isn’t the stealing” he said sarcastically.
“Nonsense!” Tom tilted his head back as he took a long drink of free ale. “Was merely salvagin’! The way ah see I’, this ale was goin’ undrunk when ah walked in ‘ere. So, only made sense to drink I’ mahself. No sense in good ale goin’ to waste!”
The man grinned slowly. “You wouldn’t happen to be a sailor of some sort, would you?”
Black Tom raised a brow slowly at the mans comment.
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard of a mister Nathaniel Hawk…?”
“Aye, ah know ‘im.” Tom said, tapping his cigar casually, some ash falling to the floor.
“I heard from folks in a tavern, that he got into a naval battle recently… he had stolen something rather valuable from Inethria, it would seem.”
“Oh aye?” Tom was listening rather intently at this point.
“I’ve also heard wreckage is starting to wash up on shore somewhere near Vesper. Here’s the deal… if you go gather what he was transporting from the wreckage for me, I’ll help get you all the nightshade you could need”
“Wha’ exactly was Nathan transpor’in’?” Tom asked, before taking another drink from his ale bottle.
“A stole a ring”.
Tom started at him blankly. “A ring…?” He asked. “Thar makin’ this big a deal ovar a ring?”
“I understand it has some importance to Inethria.”
“Eh, alroit… guess I’ won’ ‘urt meh to go track down a ring…”
“Good”. The man smiled. “I never did get your name, mister…?”
“Black Tom Vane!” he said in his usual, cocky voice he always used when introducing himself. The man introduced himself next, but Tom didn’t really bother to listen, he knew he wasn’t going to remember the mans name, anyway.
“Right, meet me at the Minoc tavern once you have the ring.” The man said, turning and leaving the tavern slowly.
“Hmm…” Tom looked into his half empty ale bottle, moving the bottle slowly to swirl the liquid back and forth as he listened to the door swing closed behind him. “Roit….” He said, tilting his head back and gulping down what remained of his ale. “Time to go fin’ this little ring…”
Several hours later
Tom walked along the beach slowly, approaching the wreckage. “Finally…” He thought to himself. He had been walking along the Vesper shores for hours before finding where the remains of Nathan’s ship had washes on shore.
Tom looked around the area slowly. Pieces of ship and cargo were lying all around. Tom walked along the beach slowly, kicking random pieces of wood and rubble out of his way. “Bu’ whars… ah, thar you are!” He thought to himself as he saw Nathan lying motionless in the sand. Nathan was covered in multiple bruises, and one of his legs looked broken. He was holding an ale bottle in one hand that he must have been lucky enough to find among the wreckage within his reach. Tom walked over to Nathan slowly, pieces of rubble creaking and snapping below his feet.
“’Ey, you alive?” Tom looked down at Nathan. He wasn’t moving. “Hmm... ‘Ey, giddup!” Tom kicked some sand at Nathan. His eyes closes tighter as the sand hit his face. Tom glanced to the ale bottle, grinning to himself. He leaned down and wrapped his hand around it slowly, Nathan gripping it tighter as he tried to pull it away.
Nathan jerked awake suddenly, drawing a knife buried in the sand and pointing it directly at the ale thief. “Oh…” Nathan said, his voice sounding exhausted. “Fanceh seein’ you ‘ere…”
Tom grinned slowly, releasing Nathan’s ale and it plopped into the sand with a loud thud with Nathan’s hand still ahold of it.
“Damn…” Nathan groaned, looking down at his broken leg. “This ‘urts worse than tha’ time tha’ Brandon fecker sho’ meh in the leg!”
Tom smirked. “Well ah’m sure all the salt doesn’ ‘elp the pain… although I’ will ‘elp preven’ infection, if ah understan’ correc’ly.” Tom said, as he started to kick rubble around.
“’Ey, think you coul’ drag meh back t’ town, mate…?” Nathan asked in a fairly louder voice, trying not to be drowned out as Tom noisily dug through the rubble, tossing pieces off wood aside. “Wha’ the ‘ell are yeh doin’ back thar anyway…?” Nathan slowly sat upright, looking over his shoulder at Tom.
“Oh, jus’… clearin’ the area fer yeh! Canno’ drag yeh away with all this crap layin’ aroun’, yar likely to ge’ gashed by a piece of rubble.” Tom continued to move broken pieces of wood around as he talked. Muttering a different curse word for every time he moved a piece of rubble without finding a ring under it. “’Ey Nathan, ‘ow did yeh ge’ ou’ ‘ere, anyways…?” Tom of course already knew the answer to this, or at least had a good guess, but he thought by bringing it up in conversation he might be able to trick Nathan into mentioning the ring, or better yet… where he hid it.
“Go’ into a figh’ with a Bitt’ ship.” Nathan replied. “Both ships sank, an’ ah washed up ‘ere”.
“Yeh mus’ ‘ave been transpor’in’ somethin’ pretty valuable fer them to attack yeh loik tha’…” Tom said, scratching his beard. “Wha’ was I’, exac’ly?”
“”Ad a ton o’ zoogi in crates.”
“Was tha’ all…?”
“Wha’s with all the questions, mate…?” Nathan raised a brow slowly. Tom obviously wasn’t going to get him to mention the ring this way.
Tom sighed lightly as he walked over next to Nathan, suddenly kicking his knife away, drawing his rapier and pointing it to Nathan’s neck with an outstretched arm. “The ring, mate… whar is I’?”
“Wha’ the feck!” Nathan nearly yelped. “Wha’ ring?”
“The ring you stole from Inethria! Rumor ‘as I’ you stole a rather valuable ring, an’ ah’ve come to salvage I’…”
“Oi! Ah was jus’ star’in’ those rumors t’ brag! Y’know ah’m full o’ shyte loik tha’!”
“Aye… but, ah also know if yeh was makin’ I’ all up fer attention, yeh would ‘ave made up somethin’ much more impressive than a damn ring…”
“Oi! Why you stealin’ from an’ ol’ friend, anyway!?”
Tom smirked to himself. “Yar one to talk. Ah ‘eard you go’ Buccaneers Den all t’yerself aftar the old Baron ‘vanished’…”
“’Ey! S’no’ mah fal’ if the fecker go’ los’ ou’ a’ sea!”
“Aye, an’ ah’m sure you spen’ well ovar five full minutes lookin’ fer ‘im, too…” Tom rolled his eyes.
“Well you didn’ bother lookin’ fer Dirk when ‘e wen’ missin’, did yeh!?” Nathan replied.
“Ah was a bi’ busy with the DMI on mah arse to worry abou’ his problems… now ‘and ovar the ring…”
“Well ah was busy with Brandon chasin’ meh all ovar yew!” Nathan snapped back
“Aw… ‘ow noice. ‘E didn’ bothar to keep in touch with me…” Tom said as he let out a sarcastic sigh. “Now… whar were we? Oh yes…the FECKING RING!!”
“I ‘old the cards, mate” Nathan smirked. “Yeh won’ kill meh, an’ only ah know whar the ring is”.
Tom glared slowly. At least he had managed to get Nathan do admit he had the ring. Tom took a few steps away, knowing that Nathan wasn’t going anywhere with that leg. Nathan turned and watched Tom, still smirking some.
“’Eres ‘ow I’ works…” Tom said as he pulled out a flask and a match. “You tell meh whar the ring is, or…” Tom tilted his head back as he downed the liquor from the flask. Leaning down some, he struck the match on his boot, lighting it. Nathan watched curiously.
“Or…?” Nathan asked smugly.
Tom held the lit match in front of his mouth, and sprayed the liquor in his mouth into the flame suddenly, “breathing” a huge blast of fire onto the wood rubble surrounding the area.
“Ah feck!!” Nathan yelled, nearly jumping despite his bad leg.
“You ‘ave until the flame consumes yeh or the smoke suffocates yeh to tell meh whar the ring is!” Tom yelled to Nathan, as he took a few steps away from the burning rubble to ensure his own safety.
Nathan’s eyes darted around frantically. The fire was eating away at the rubble, slowly moving from one piece of wood to the next, the blaze growing with every spark and snap.
“Pu’ tha’ shyte ou’!!” Nathan yelled, sounding a bit more desperate than before.
“Tell meh whar the ring is!!” Tom yelled back at him.
“On mah spare boa’! I’s on the wes’ side o’ the Den!” Nathan yelled before starting to cough from all smoke filling the area.
Tom smirked to himself as he walked over the Nathan, grabbing his wrist firmly and dragging him away from the burning rubble growing closer and closer to him. Tom released him and he fell back onto the sand with a thud, coughing loudly.
“’Eres ‘ow I’ works…” Tom said. He was standing confidently over Nathan, smoke still filling the air, glow from near by embers reflecting off Toms dark eyes. “Ah ‘ere you own Buccaneers Den, now. You can keep the title of Baron, I don’ wan’ to deal with tha’ political crap anyway… Yeh can keep yar title, an’ the ring, ah jus’ wan’ to use the Den fer a few of mah operations, an’ take a little off the top of the towns profi’s.”
“Ah’ll give yeh twen’y percen’…” Nathan said, half coughing.
“Soun’s fair enough…” Tom grinned.
“Now ‘elp meh ge’ ou’ o’ ‘ere!” Nathan demanded.
Tom walked over and propped him up, wrapping one of Nathan’s arm over his shoulders and dragging him away.
A few hours later
Tom set Nathan down on a fallen log in Buccaneers Den. Nathan half groaned as he sat down.
“Wha’ did you try to kill meh fer!?” Nathan demanded.
“Ah wasn’ tryin’ to kill yeh, jus’ scare yeh into given meh wha’ ah wanted.” Tom smirked. “Ah suppose the person who hired meh to ge’ the ring won’ beh getting I’, now…”
“Y’mean this?” Nathan asked, taking off his hat and taking an odd looking ring out of the brim. “You ‘ones’ly believe ah ‘ad a ‘spare ship’?” Nathan asked, smirking to himself. “Ah need t’ ge’ a ‘ealer to look a’ mah leg… ge’ meh a walkin’ stick ‘er somethin’.”
Tom glanced around some. Technically, Nathan was the Baron of this town, and it might be best to keep on good terms with him now, so that he’d continue to allow Tom to skim off the towns’ profits. He glanced over to the docks, grinning slowly as he saw a man fishing.
“’Ey, you!” Tom yelled as he hopped onto the dock and walked over to the fisherman, the wood plants creaking under him with each step.
“Y-yes…?” The man asked.
“Ah need tha’! Give I’ ‘ere!” Tom pointed to the mans fishing pole.
“W-what?” The man asked, confused.
“”Er you def ‘er somethin’!? Ah said give I’ ‘ere!” Tom yelled, grabbing the mans fishing pole and yanking it away from him.
“Hey! You can’t jus-…” The mans sentence fell short as Tom punched him violently, blood spraying from the mans nose as he fell backwards into the water with a loud splash.
Tom smirked to himself as he headed back in Nathan’s direction.
“’Ere you are” Tom said, tossing the fishing pole to him.
“Thanks mate” Nathan said as he stood up slowly, using the fishing pole for support. “Ah need t’ ‘ead to the ‘ealers. Don’ ge’ sho’ alroit?”
Tom smirked to himself as he tipped his hat to Nathan. “No promises…”
