The escape, and naming of Glenn Swift.



  • Player: Jerrick Rayfe
    Character : Glenn Swift

    Another storm….

    They never seem to stop.
    They lash the sails, whip us to pieces with wind flung ropes, wires and hooks. We nearly drown without falling off the ship. Sometimes creatures are flung up out of the water at us, with gnashing teeth and terrifying sounds, yet we struggle to keep them onboard, because we need the food.

    And water. We're almost out of that, too. I've had to drink that nasty grog business, and it makes me feel really lousy. All I want is nice, fresh, water... and of course, that brings me to this moment. The storm, and why I'm standing out in it. Me and the rigged sailcloth made into a funnel, so I can try to catch some of that water and get it into our barrels.

    Of all the jobs on this ship, this has to suck the most... but this is what I get for hitching a ride. I'd like to think i'd rather not have gotten caught... but the rats down there would have killed me! They're ENOURMOUS!
    I don't know HOW they couldn't have noticed rats THAT size getting onto their ship. . . A few seem to be stuck in cages though. I hope they didn't bring them along for... aw man I think I'm going to hurl!

    I suppose working like this is better than rotting in the dark, wondering when I'll be rat food... and the captain isn't such a bad guy either. For all his threatening to gut me and eat me... he seems more willing to put me to work, and a few of the guys are teaching me to fight.

    This is way better then before. I'd rather live an impossibly hard life out here with men of the sea, worrying about food and water and safety, than be back with HIM. If I never see that man who bought me again, it'll be too soon. If I do, next time, he'll die. I'll never forget his name either. Robar Turnkilk, also known as Turncoat. Apparently he was a soldier once, and decided to surrender his post, rather than fight to the death or something like that. Reinforcements arrived, just in time to see it happen, and he was saved, but most of his troops had already been put to the sword.

    I had to get away, y'see? There was no damned way that he was going to quit beating MY ass for HIS mistakes. I woulda cut his damned throat in his sleep too, but he keeps the knives where I can't reach em. Escaping's good enough. I had to steal from someone innocent to get him the good booze, but once he was out, I stole his horse and rode the thing to death all the way to the docks. I picked this ship, picked up a sack of something way too heavy, and walked on with a group of other guys, and then hid behind it. Aaand, here I am. Collecting rainwater so I'll live, sitting in the rigging like some kind of creepy crab-bird thing with my buckets on ropes.

    What Am I talking to you for anyway? You're just a damned bird.

    **The Albatross, seeming offended, took wing, flapping mightily to get above the ship where it could cicle lazily. The young man, about 16 years of age with midnight black hair and startling blue eyes, looked up as the storm abated, finally able to get a good look at the many buckets around him in the rigging. About 25 or so, all full. He smiled to himself, and adjusted his belt with the daggers in it, recently accquired. There had been an attepted boarding of the ship, and he had killed a couple men himself, who had underestimated his strength by a look at his youthful face.

    Shortly after bringing the buckets down, the young man was waved over by the captain, who took him aside and spoke to him like he had not before.

    "Alright boy, listen good. I know you were a slave, and don't make that face at me. I'm no slaver. No pirate worth his salt deals in slaves. Bad business, and dirty gold... but listen. You're free now, and I want ye ta get off at the next port. It's a place known as Narfell, and the town's called Peltarch. I don't care what ye do from there, but don't go getting caught again, y'hear? We taught you to fight with daggers and short swords, and how to throw them darts. Ye should be able to defend yerself, so I expect to see ye alive if I ever come lookin for ye, alrite? "

    **With that, the captain pushed a pack into the boy's arms, and before he knew what to say, or had a chance to do so, he was pushed into the bay, backwards. The captain had an image to maintain after all, and softies get mutinied. Thus, Glenn Swift, given the name by the pirate who taught him the dagger for his speed, arrived in Peltarch, green to battle save one, and unaware of the dangers of the land.

    It's a good thing he has an appetite for adventure!



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