Registered Member #960
Joined: 2:07:50 am GMT 01/22/07
Posts: 644
The young man stepped onto the pier slowly getting accustomed to the feeling of being on unmoving ground again. He briefly scanned the surrounding and much to his disappointment it was a poor, dingy port with no decently attractive women within sight. However, his disappointment faded away when he came across a local clothing shop with a very tempting shopkeeper.
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She was of course just the first on his path as took note of popular locations and people of importance. Indeed he was making himself quite at home once he found a decent room for rent at a local inn. He didn’t bother kicking his boots off as he plopped down in his bed staring at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head.
Registered Member #960
Joined: 2:07:50 am GMT 01/22/07
Posts: 644
The Broken Girl
She looked like easy prey, a young woman alone in at night; she’s practically on a silver platter. He approached her with his usual charming smile and convinced her to have a drink with him, as he’d done with several women before her. After some smooth talking, Victor had learned her name, Sandy smoothing or other, her hobbies and her very traumatic past. Oh how he delighted in broken women, putting them back together in his favor was ecstasy in itself but he did dread the one thing he would have to do to gain their trust…listen to their boring tale. Indeed it took his entire mental prowess to stay awake while she babbled on but it was all apart of the game.
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After a time, he had decided to make his exit and excused himself. Once back in the solitude of his rented room he contemplated his next move. Sandy…she certainly will be a challenge. Mmm, sad and vengeful, my favorite appetites, he smirked. He rolled up his sleeve and gazed at the tattoo on his wrist; a flaming sword with a buckled, leather hilt. “I will deliver her to you my goddess. I’m sure you will find her very amusing.”
Registered Member #960
Joined: 2:07:50 am GMT 01/22/07
Posts: 644
9 Years Ago…
“Victor!” she shouted. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The young boy took another bite of cookie, “Why, Madam McConalls, what ever do you mean?”
She snatched the plate of cookies from in front of him, “These desserts are for everyone!”
Victor watched her with his deep blue eyes, “But Madam McConalls,” he pushed his long white hair out of his face, “the other children gave them to me.”
“Oh did they? What lies are you telling now,” she said accusingly.
“I didn’t lie to any of them,” he said calmly. “Shauna offered me her cookie then so did Diana and Regina, oh, and I think Philp likes Regina, he said he’d give me his cookie if I could get her to talk to him.” A cocky smirk appeared in the corner of his mouth which made Madam McConalls even more furious. She looked at him sternly but turned and walked out of the room. Once Madam McConalls footsteps could no longer be heard, a little girl with a cookie in hand poked her head inside. Victor gave her a smile and wink. She blushed and looked down shyly.
“That cookie looks really good, think I could have a bit,” asked Victor sweetly.
It had always been this way for Victor, with a sly smile and a confident word he could get almost anyone to do anything for him. Of course it would never last forever and eventually whatever place had taken him in would eventually try to get rid of him again. After a time simply living wasn’t enough for young Victor, he aspired for more and knew that, like his peers, a brilliant future was not in store for him unless he fought for it. That night Victor decided to start his own destiny now. It was easy for him to sneak out, he’d done it several times before, but this time he planned on staying out.
The first few days were harder then Victor thought it would be. He wasn’t experienced in thievery but knew a great deal about playing people. It didn’t take him long to spot the pick pockets and he had actually been keeping track of a particular one. One day after the pick pocket had snatched a small pouch from a well dressed man, Victor followed him down an alleyway.
“You’re pretty good at that,” announced Victor startling the poor boy into stumbling into a barrel. “Whoa, whoa, calm down.” The boy looked around in a panic but once he saw Victor’s smile he became still. “My name’s Victor, what’s yours?”
“T-Toney,” stuttered the boy.
Victor offered his hand to help Toney up, “Nice to meet you Toney.”
Registered Member #960
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What Happens In Raven’s Watch…
Victor grinned wide as he looked around the small, dingy town. The air was ripe with cheap ale; the sights and sounds of “less then civil” activities were everywhere. Victor loved it.
“Truly Fierna would favor this place,” he muttered to himself. He watched as a scantly clad woman sweetly stroked an off-duty guard’s check with the back of her hand before leading him down into the lower tunnels no doubt looking for a room. “They’re practically praying to her already,” he chuckled to himself.
It didn’t take him long to find out who was in charge of this fantastic place of hedonistic pleasures. “Krel…I should like to meet him myself.”
As usual, Victor easily talked his way past any residence in order to stand before Krel in the flesh and flesh was one thing the bandit king seemed faun of. Victor had to commend Krel on his sense of taste as Victor’s eyes wandered around the room of prostitutes hovering around Krel.
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It didn’t take Victor long to convience Krel that he was a man worth having around, even got a nice bit of work from their chat, not that Victor needed it but there was always a strategic advantage to making a good first impression. After a time Victor took his leave, Krel had promised him more work in the future but more importantly a way to gain more favor in Raven’s Watch.
Fierna be praised, I think this island may indeed be ready for her gospel.
Registered Member #960
Joined: 2:07:50 am GMT 01/22/07
Posts: 644
Snake Eyes
Victor’s eyes lit up as he saw the “den of sin” as it were.
Tin Tankard…beautiful.
He had meet the glowing-eyed RiaBeth at the crossroads. He later came to learn that she was taken but not just by anyone, a man named Riggs who was apparently the proprietor of the Tankard.
“Would Riggs happen to need another hired hand,” asked Victor.
“I don’t know,” replied RiaBeth, “you’ll need to ask him.”
“Of course, I don’t suppose you could get me in touch with him,” he asked with a sly smile.
Registered Member #960
Joined: 2:07:50 am GMT 01/22/07
Posts: 644
8 Years Ago…
“Pardon me sir, but I think this apple fell off your cart,” said the young boy with milky white hair.
“You trying to steal from me,” bellowed the shop keep as he snatched the apple from the Victor’s hand.
“Oh, no sir, I saw it on the ground here,” he said with a reassuring smile.
The shop keep raised his brow briefly but nodded, “Well…thank you then lad.”
“Very welcome sir,” said Victor, he briefly glanced behind the shop keep. Toney had nearly managed to undo the cart’s last screw. “They really do look good though. Wish I could afford one. My mother hasn’t been able to afford any since she grew ill” He sighed and looked the apples over, “Anyway, good day to you.” He turned to walk away but still caught sight of that hint of guilt in the man’s eye.
“Uh, lad,” called out the shop keep. “Here, for you and your mother.” He tossed him two ripe red apples. Victor caught them and smiled to him before disappearing into the crowd. In an instant, the cart fell apart and apples spilled all over the city street. The shop keep gasped in surprise completely unaware of Toney cutting his purse strings and sneaking off down an alley.
“Did you get it,” asked Victor leaning against the alley wall with one leg bent. Toney grinned and jingled the coin purse. “Good, I got us breakfast.” Victor tossed Toney the second apple then took a large bite into his own. Even since their first meeting, the two had been very fortunate in their endeavors. Toney still handled the thievery, but it was Victor who would develop the scams and distractions. Toney was doing better then he’d ever done before but Victor was starting to grow bored. He wanted to do something bigger. “You know Toney, I think we need more people.”
“M-more p-people for w-what,” he asked.
“Well I’ve been thinking, one coin purse here and there is good but, I think we could get more.”
“Why d-do we n-need more? We h-have enough t-to eat when we n-need.”
“Yeah but I mean don’t you want some nice clothes, trinkets, the stuff that they have,” said Victor nodding toward the passerby’s in the street. “I know you want some shoes,” he said with a chuckle. Toney smiled in return and nodded in agreement. Over the week the two started to form a plan on who to recruit.
“What about the Streeters,” asked Victor as he bit into another freshly conned piece of fruit.
“S-Street-ters,” Toney exclaimed. “They’r-re craz-zy! All they want-t to d-do is get in f-fights a-a-and break stuff!”
“Exactly,” replied Victor as he took another bite. “No goals, no aspirations, we just need to mold them the right way.” He grinned and ran the scenario through his head. Toney sat flabbergasted at Victor’s complete lack of fear at the prospect of approaching the wildest gang their little city had ever known. It didn’t take long for them to find the rowdy hooligans stocking an alley somewhere.
“I’m-I’m not s-sure this is a g-good idea,” whimpered Toney.
“Just relax and DON”T say ANYTHING,” whispered Victor. “Last thing we need is your stuttering to ruin this.” Toney looked down and nodded. Victor smirked at his victory, every time he brought up Toney’s stuttering he knew Toney would button up and do as he said.
Victor and Toney calmly and confidently strolled down the alley, Toney trying desperately to fake calm and confidence. One of the Streeters spotted the two and muttered something to the rest of them. They all hoped off their boxes and barrels to stand in a row; the group stared intently at Victor and Toney as the two proceeded closer to them.
“Well well, what do we have here fellas? A couple ladies out for a walk,” mocked the biggest member of the gang, the obvious leader. The others broke out in dull-witted chuckles and jeering.
Victor took their insults unflinching, “I take it you’re the big dog in this little pack.” Immediately the others got serious again and prepared for their leader’s command to attack.
“Name’s Tommy Knife,” replied the leader as he pulled out a small, dirty knife and pointed it at Victor. “Want me to carve it in that pretty face of yours?”
“You don’t want to carve up my face,” said Victor, now fighting very hard to keep up his stone cold expression, “you’ll lose out on your new meal ticket.” Victor nodded to Toney who quickly handed Victor a small pouch of gold. “We make this much a week,” said Victor tossing the bag to the leader.
“So what,” said Tommy Knife as he quickly stuffed the pouch in his pocket, “you saying we should rob you every week?” Again the gang broke out in a dull-witted chuckle.
“No gentlemen,” said Victor with a cocky smirk, “I’m saying that we all can make more. I’m saying that we can be the wealthiest bastards in this whole city.” He took another step closer to Tommy and his knife. “I’m saying that you, Tommy Knife, will have to change your name to Tommy Gold.”
Tommy, along with the rest of the Streeters and even Toney, were in awe at Victor’s proposal. They all looked to Tommy eager for his decision.
“Yeah,” said Tommy slightly nodding his head and looking to the rest of his group, “Yeah I like the sound of that.” He put his knife away and put his arm around Victor, “So, you got in mind kid.”
Registered Member #960
Joined: 2:07:50 am GMT 01/22/07
Posts: 644
Let it Roll
Perhaps Riggs was in a good mood, perhaps the Tankard just needed more staff, perhaps Victor was a smoother talker then he realized, the reason wasn’t important only the smug satisfaction Victor felt at having easily worked his way into Riggs’ favor.
“Impress me and you’ve got the job, fail me and I’ll feed you to Drogo,” Riggs had told him before disappearing to go about his business.
Fierna would very much like this one, I will certainly have to learn everything I can from him, thought Victor.
Taking the time to get to know Riggs’ apparently old friend, Drogo, Victor decided to chat him up while he could.
Registered Member #960
Joined: 2:07:50 am GMT 01/22/07
Posts: 644
Red Market
Through a bit of exploration Victor came across a few odd jobs that protained to a particular disturbance in a nearby forest area, something the natives call "Feywood." Something deep in the forest was driving the animals inhabiting it mad. Through a bit of small talk he convienced a half-wit half-orc into helping him--"helping" of course meaning taking the brunt of the combat while Victor stayed at a safe distance.
It did not take the two long to find the, what Victor believed to be, source of the maddening condition; a mysterious red glowing protrusion in the cave floor.
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Just staring at it was staring at it was unnerving. What is this? Or more importantly, what can it be used for, thought Victor as he collected a piece of the stone. Immediately a wave of sickness and weakness washed over him. He had never felt anything that could compare to it. He stuffed the piece into his pack but he could still feel it making him weak. What a foul thing...what layer of Hell dreamed this thing up, he thought as the two made their way back out of the cave. Everything has a purpose...I will certainly have to learn of this stone's...
Registered Member #960
Joined: 2:07:50 am GMT 01/22/07
Posts: 644
8 Years Ago…
It was a beautiful day in the market as Philp Thompson perused the local shops. The food smelled delicious and the trinkets gleamed in the in the sunlight. He waved to the shop keeps as he strolled along, as was his custom. Suddenly a cart came to a stop in front of him blocking his path.
“Oof,” stuttered Philp as he was forced to come to a stop. “Now what’s all this? Taking up the entire street! How is anyone supposed to enjoy the day when people go about willy-nilly parking carts wherever they very well please.”
“Many pardons gov’na,” said a dirty looking young man struggling with the cart. “’fraid wheel’s all busted up, it’ll take me a while to get ‘er going again.”
Philp sighed and shook his head as the young man went about fiddling with the cart wheel. Unwilling to wait around for an indeterminate about of time, Philp decided to bypass the cart by using a small out of the way alley. He’d taken no more then ten steps before he started to regret his decision. The alleyway was dingy, dirty, gloomy and not at all pleasant. It wasn’t until he was yards away from the street he had just been on that he noticed an overturned cart with several rusted nails protruding from it lay right in the middle of the alley way blocking his progress. Suddenly the sound of a barrel crashing down boomed behind him and nearly shook the poor man out of his well-maintained shoes. He quickly spun around to see a three dirty looking young men staring at him, the largest one standing with his foot on the overturned barrel and a rusty looking knife in his hand.
“Well, well look what we have here,” said Tommy Knife as he gently played with the tip of the knife against his index finger. “Looks like he’s trying to pass without paying the toll, how do we feel about that boys?”
“I don’t think we like that,” chimed in one of the boys encroaching on Philp.
“Nah, don’t like it one bit,” chimed the second.
“You think he should learn a lesson,” asked Tommy before roughly kicking the barrel behind him to roll ideally back down the alley.
“N-now boys I don’t want any trouble,” said Phil shaking. “I mean it…I’ll fetch the authorities…I’m very good friends with the Captain of the Guards.” He tried to perk up some bravery. “Last warning!” The boys only chuckled as they moved closer and closer to him.
“L-leave him al-lone,” shouted a voice behind the three Streeters. They turned to see little Toney glaring back at them; Philp looked to him hopeful.
“This doesn’t concern you kid,” said Tommy pointing his knife at Toney.
“Quickly lad! Fetch the authorities,” pleaded Philp.
Tommy chuckled, “Yeah, go run away.”
“N-no, I s-s-said l-leave him al-lone,” said Toney again tightening his fists.
Tommy looked to his other two cohorts, “Boys, take care of him.” They started punching their fists and cracking their knuckles. Philp could barely see past the boys as they crowded around Toney but he could hear the sounds of the skirmish.
“Toney,” cried another voice from behind the fighting. “Guards! Guards! There here! I found them!” The three Streeters looked around panicked, quickly they pried a nearby fence post loose and squeezed out of the alleyway. Philp sighed with relief until he saw his rescuer, the young boy named Toney, laying beaten on the ground with a white haired young man leaning over him.
“Is…is he alright,” asked Philp taking a few steps toward them.
“I don’t know…I don’t think so,” whimpered Victor, he wiped his soggy eyes and looked to Philps. “Please, he’s going to die if you don’t help him.”
“Help him…bu-…well I’m no healer I-I don’t even know what do-“
“Please,” Victor looked to him, his deep blue eyes slightly moist. “We need to get him somewhere warm and dry, he needs food and bandages. We can’t wait for a healer.”
Philp Thompson, the man that everyone in town knew as the most bleeding hearted resident they had ever known, truly a kind and gentle soul, watched as the young boy that had saved his life was now in desperate need of his help. Philp took a deep confident breath and nodded.
“Yes, we must take him to my home at once,” he said quickly marching over to Toney’s side to help him up.
“Are you sure, is it far from here,” asked Victor helping Toney to his feet and supporting him as they walked.
“It’s not very far, we’ll have him fixed up in no time,” reassured Philp. Victor watched him for a moment then let out a small smile of relief though if the good-natured man had looked more closely he might’ve realized a hint of sinister glint in the white-haired young man’s eye.
Registered Member #960
Joined: 2:07:50 am GMT 01/22/07
Posts: 644
Yes Madam
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Madam Nermala...I shall certainly have to try and make her acquaintance at some point. She could prove to be useful, thought Victor. He looked back at all the scantily clad woman. No reason not to have fun in the mean time.
[ The Island of Thain ]
With a Devil
