The Black Ship

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The Black Ship

Post by Pamela »

April 9, 8:45 pm

Gertrude stepped out into the street, smiling. She walked away from the Two Hares Inn, still straining to get the last strains of the music before the evening traffic swallowed them up. It was one thing she still missed since her move to the Black Ship, but she made up for it by coming back for a glass of wine when she wasn’t visiting her Souragnien acquaintances.

Passersby were strolling about; she took in the colours that men and women freely wore. So different from home, and so beautiful, she thought, till a drunk reeled before her, babbling a request for change. She shook her head and kept moving, her attention already drawn to the sound of crickets chirping. She suddenly paused, listening and remembering summer mornings at her grandparents’ home in Whitby.

Again the thought of leaving Zherisia came and went as it did for many of her generation. Many of her acquaintances kept asking why she returned to such a grey cramped city. It was home; it was the most exciting, modern city in the world, with the most progressive society. Which wasn’t saying much, really…But I can dream, she thought to herself wryly. It was also where her memories lived, and were buried. Some steps were too final, and she doubted she’d ever be ready to make them.

Lost in reverie on her way back to her inn, she didn’t see the thin boy who’d quietly slipped from a nearby shadow and begun to quietly fit his silent pace to match hers. He was perhaps no more than nine years old, though it was hard to tell, considering his frail frame. His clothes were rags, and his face so covered in filth and dust that it was hard to tell what his natural complexion was in the poor light. Carefully, his hand slithered into a pocket and withdrew, change purse in hand…
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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Post by Undead Cabbage »

Jonathan Midwinter stepped softly through the streets of Port D'Ehlour, having arrived earlier that morning.


I need a place to stay he thought to himself, and frankly, I can't see myself spending a night with these Souragnian women; I might catch something.

[OOC: Spot check 23 (12+11). I would imagine that Jonathan notices the pick pocket]

As Jonathan progressively makes his way to the nearest inn, he notices a little something. He sleakly eye balls the street urchin lift the purse from behind a fairly foreign looking maiden. Jonathan's thought process goes something like this:

Save purse + foreign lady=good pickup line=clean place to stay for the night!

Jonathan immediately slides back into a shadow, waiting for the little boy to sneak away. After a second, Jonathan signals for the boy to come closer.

[OOC: Bluff check 28 (13+15)]

He holds out his pocket watch discretely to the boy and says in Souragnian 'eh, lad. See this watch? It's yours for a gold piece.'

Knowing that something that pretty had to be worth more than a gold piece, he immediately brings out what gold he has. It's only after he pulls it out that he realizes he revealed a just stolen purse. Jonathan smiles.

Jonathan immediately snatches the purse from the boy's hands.

"Mademoiselle!" Jonathan yells to Gertrude. "Mademoiselle, I believe you dropped something!"

Hurry up you stupid woman, I'm doing you a favor!

EDITED by Nathan of the Fraternity: Careful with the language there, UC.
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Post by Rotipher of the FoS »

[OOC: Hey, hands off the scalpel-lady, you! Crow saw her first! :wink: :lol: :wink: ]
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Post by Undead Cabbage »

[OOC: Sorry about that Nathan. Got carried away.]
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Post by Pamela »

The boy darted off into the shadows in case the Mordentish stranger decided to take hold of him next. Gertrude in the meantime ignored the first ‘Mademoiselle’; it had been a good while since she’d been addressed as such, except by wheedling vendors resorting to blatant flattery.

At the second call she halted, noting the stares directed her way, and turned around. A young man dressed in Mordentish style with a tricorn hat stared back at her, holding up her change purse. She began to cautiously make her way back. Her pockets were deep and she was always careful in her handling of her possessions. She also wasn’t carrying much money- just enough for a couple of glasses of wine during her evening forays.

She pretended to recognise her purse, and a smile of gratitude crossed her lips even as she wondered whether this stranger’d stolen it himself. “Thank you very much, sir,” she said, waiting for him to offer the purse. She’d worked behind a counter too long not to be familiar with the lingering touches of men accepting their change. “Your honesty is much appreciated,” she said primly.

OOC: Surrounded by all these beautiful young men....sigh.... :lol:
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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Post by Undead Cabbage »

Jonathan slickly trots up to Gertrude and places the purse in her hand. His touch is chilling, as are his eyes in spite of his rosey smile.

Jonathan takes a glance of Gertrude. This women shows nothing, has nothing, and will likely give nothing. What is she; religious?

He hears her accent. Oh, I get it, she's Zherisian: Even worse.

Ah, a Zherisian in Souragne? Just a tad strange


"Mademoiselle, I'm afraid the careless are robbed easily in these streets."
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Post by Pamela »

Gertrude caught the whiff of liquor and the cool glance and thought, Wonderful; it’s amazing how sanctimonious the drunk can be… But she was not a woman to make scenes, and she was glad that the Black Ship wasn’t much farther away.

She accepted the purse and carefully slipped it into her pocket. “Then I shall be more careful in future, monsieur,” she replied, “And I wish you a good evening. Adieu.” She made a slight curtsey, and turned away. Please don't offer to walk me home...
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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Post by Undead Cabbage »

[OOC: Sense Motive 24 (13+11)]

Jonathan gets the idea that Gertrude is a cold trail. This fact has very little effect on him.

Jonathan strides next to Gertrude as she desperately makes her attempt to evade him in a polite fashion. His shoulders bounce with the same degree of annoying confidence that seems to surround him.

"So tell me lass, what's a Zherisian doing such as yerself doing in said horrid, nasty, smelly, and cat-urine tasting ale realm? For such a white rose to remain growing in an unforgiving swamp, something must be keeping her roots implanted."

Such as an overpaid, preachy gentlemen's club on the edge of town, perhaps?
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Post by Pamela »

Is he- Gertrude began in disbelief, her outrage forbidding her even to complete the thought. She’d been expecting some sad attempt to watch over her on the way home, giving the louche sot a chance to expound on her carelessness while possibily hitting her up for the reward of a free drink. This familiarity- her calm cool manner dropped into the arctic zone.

She turned to face him and spoke with icy politeness. “Do I know you, sir, to invite such questions? I am a visitor, who until this moment was enjoying her trip. You however are clearly unhappy, and I would suggest that you spare yourself further discomfort and seize upon the first ship you can find back to the Core.” She made a small sniff, as if smelling something unpleasant, then turned and walked on, head still slightly raised.
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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Post by Undead Cabbage »

I think she likes me, Jonathan says sarcastically to himself.

"You're a cheeky one. I like that."

Jonathan still continues after Gertrude. This time cigar lit in his mouth, offering another to her.

"So not only are you Zherisian, but an educated one as well. You're here in Souragne, as well you recognized that I'm from the Core. My guess is that you're quite the traveler.

Aaww, are you looking for something lass? Or are you bound to the tail end of some mercantile husband that can't seem to sit his rear in any one realm? Perhaps a researcher?

Or, is this whole Zherisian educated woman thing just a disguise? Bet you'd make a great assassin, you would!"

Jonathan swings over, now walking backwards and in front of Gertrude.
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Post by Pamela »

Cheeky?!

Gertrude’s eyes widened in indignation, and it took all her will not to slap aside the bloody proffered cigar. She tried to rein in her anger, to keep her pace casual, and not to respond to this lout’s outrageous comments…

…but her resolve evaporated as he sauntered insouciantly before her face, walking backwards, smirking. She’d never been good at refusing challenges. A soft, low laugh rippled briefly in the air, as her tension found a brief outlet. “A Zherisian meets a man native neither to this island nor hers. It doesn’t take much imagination-” or wit, which you obviously lack- “To guess that he likely comes from the mainland.” Her tone was calm and dry with irony; sarcasm was not the Zherisian way.

“And you will have to excuse my ability to put together a better sentence than the majority of your kinsmen, sir. It’s less the result of education than a lack of systematic interfamilial relationships.”
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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Post by Undead Cabbage »

“And you will have to excuse my ability to put together a better sentence than the majority of your kinsmen, sir. It’s less the result of education than a lack of systematic interfamilial relationships.”
Such is Mordent, Jonathan thinks to himself. This broad knows her people. Lets have some fun!

Jonathan takes a bow to Gertrude as he steps, as he were honored by her remarks about his character. As his face comes back up, he beams like a child in a candy store.

"Ah, yes, a curse of the core: that we would actually know our family members. To think, that we were never upheaved from our loved ones. What a shame...

On a friendly note, I can't say I'm one for the countryside here. I find the Mordentish countryside much more to my liking personall, albeit Dementlieu's got a decent one herself. What's the countryside like where you came from lass? Can't say I've seen the rolling hills and farms of Paridon as of late."

Jonathan winks.
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Post by Pamela »

As much as Gertrude enjoyed a challenge, she also enjoyed a good riposte handled masterfully. Despite herself, she began to smile, and returned the stranger’s bow with a curtsey. She responded with a serious, thoughtful tone, veiled eyes sparkling. “I suppose if our families were as close as yours, there wouldn’t have been so many separations and losses. Although when you do lose your father, you often lose a cousin and brother as well.”

“And your comments have reminded me of an old question we have back home. Where are the good nobles found in Zherisia?” she asked rhetorically. Pausing a few seconds, she continued. “In the countryside…”
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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Post by Undead Cabbage »

Why can't all women be this fun?, Jonathan asks himself.

Jonathan makes a single twirl as he steps backward. He lifts his arms to his sides in a silly matter. His eyes fixate upon Gertrude's feet for a second. He then slides his eyes sideways back up to Gertrude.

"Mademoiselle, I do believe I have guessed your profession.

How you ask? You showed your ankle for a brief second. How Zherisian of you. Might care to show some caution, however. I do believe we are coming up to an alleyway.

Be careful madame. If you're not in bed by twelve, it might be best to go home."

Surely this women isn't inpenetrable
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Post by Pamela »

Gertrude watched the stranger’s caperings, wondering if he’d been taking more than liquor that evening. Still, she waited for his response, and smiled skeptically at the idea he could guess her profession. She then laughed at the means he’d achieved this result.

Her amusement began to fade to caution at his warning and following strange remark. She kept her manner friendly, not wanting to provoke any sudden negative or violent reactions. She also however wanted to cut short any misapprehensions, and discourage a potential line of discussion. “Unfortunately, many people have been easily able to determine that I am a scholar, sir, even if they haven’t read my writings of the last two decades.” Let him do the math... “They also aren’t surprised when they learn my specialization is religious studies.

“So that, sir, is the reason for my presence here. Or would you care for me to elaborate on the Souragnien approach to Ezran worship?” the professor asked blithely, waiting for Jonathan to make his excuses.
His only real danger is if stupidity is contagious and lethal. In which case, we’re all dead…-Gertrude
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