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| Resupplying; P | |
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| Topic Started: Thu Oct 8, 2009 2:00 am (368 Views) | |
| Damascus Brickburner | Thu Oct 8, 2009 2:00 am Post #1 |
 
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Damascus was on a small longboat, on the Black River. He was sent from his village to get a few supplies from Cascadia. He was on the mission with his brother Jaques. He was his closest brother age wise, and they were best friends. They were the ones who were often sent up river to get supplies, they knew common. Damascus was sitting up toward the bow of the small, canoe like ship; his brother in the back with a paddle. Jaques was built for paddling, he had thick, sinewy arms. He sent the boat gliding silently through the water. Aseph was sleeping on one of the low benches in the boat. The little monkey was snoring lightly, as usual. There were about five miles left to go before they got to their destination. He drifted off to sleep. He woke up a half hour later, still on the water. He picked up Aseph, who in turn crawled on top of Damascus's head; where he continued to sleep. Jaques laughed quietly to himself and kept rowing. Absentmindedly rubbed his necklace. It was getting darker, and colder. The skies were clear and crisp. Aseph awoke with a yawn, and slid down to the nape of the goblin's neck. He slid onto the right shoulder, his small clever hands tinkling the earring on the man's ear. Damascus smiled and scratched the monkey's head. The fur was soft and fuzzy, much like his younger brother's. He pulled out a lantern from a nearby box. He light the flame and placed it in a special notch on the figure head. The light shone on the rippling water. He saw fish, swirling their silver bodies in the wake of the small boat. It would be another hour until they reached Cascadia. He settled back down and closed his eyes. |
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| Tinbelly | Thu Oct 8, 2009 6:02 am Post #2 |
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((OOC: Not sure if this thread was meant for me, but I'm posting, besides)) The hours passed as Zul'Alana sat on the coast, dipping his feet gently into the caressing cerulean waters. He felt the light current pull and tug on his ankles, bidding him to slip further into the water. The light lapping was not nearly strong enough to do real damage, of course, and the rippling river simply tickled the calloused undersides of his great blue feet. The troll sat in something of a daze, unable to truly appreciate the beautiful of an mid-fall evening, as a bottle, as always, stood nearly empty at his side. The intoxicating drink kept within had enough contaminated his blood that he was almost considering slipping into the flowing river and simply drifting away, allowing the cold waters to pull him away to sleep, and to death. He was certainly not what one might consider "drunk". No, Zul'Alana was rarely drunk. For the down-on-his-luck troll, drunkenness was the withdrawal he experienced when he was not inebriated. Tinbelly was an alcoholic. The troll lazily fumbled about, searching for a swig with his large, three-fingered hands. Those hands found the bottle, but the troll was disappointed to find only drops in the bottom. Forcing as many drops as possible down his throat, Tinbelly shook the bottle violently, craving more poison, with which he might wet his parched throat. In frustration, the troll tossed his empty bottle into the drink, watching as it bobbed twice before sinking into the icy depths. Suddenly the riverbed began to look much more inviting. Tinbelly strained his eyes as, in the distance, a small boat battled gently towards him. There were two figures on the boat, and they seemed smaller than most of the folk around Cascadia. Then again, to the hulking troll, nearly everybody was small. "Oi!" he shouted to the boat. "What ya be carryin'!" he rarely tried to hide his thick accent. |
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| Damascus Brickburner | Thu Oct 8, 2009 10:11 pm Post #3 |
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((OOC: Yup...right one)) Damascus was startled awake by a thick accented voice. It was either Troll, Shortear Goblin, Or a well traveled sailor. He blearily sat up and saw a huge hulking mass of Troll standing on the back of the river. He stood up and was climbed by Aseph. The little monkey gave a startled screech and fell comicly off Damascus's shoulder. Damascus laughed. "Well, we have nothing. Nothing but a free ride into Cascadia. If you want it." He spoke loudly in the direction of the Troll. He thought for a moment. This was a small boat. It was meant to only hold four light goblins, not two goblins and a seven foot plus troll. He shrugged and motioned for his silent brother to row them toward shore. They hit shore with a thunk as the boat rammed into the muddy shore. He removed his hood and let his ears breath. His earing jingling as the fabric fell against them. He stretched his back and felt several vertebrae pop into place. He exhaled heavily and plopped down on a rock. Aseph peered over the edge of the boat and stared at the Troll. Aseph was so used to the small and slight goblins that a hulking mass of blue flesh scared the life out of him. He clucked softly at the boat and Aseph looked at the goblin's outstretched hand. He meandered slowly toward the goblin, still watching the troll. He hopped onto Damascus's shoulder and hid behind his head. Damascus produced a small wineskin. It was spiced and reminded him of winters past. He took a swing and tucked it back in it's place. "So, what might your name be?" |
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| Tinbelly | Sat Oct 10, 2009 4:05 am Post #4 |
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Tinbelly smiled a big, toothy grin as the small boat approached, the rowers slowing to dock. The troll stumbled to his feet, and gave a deep, teetering bow, nearly falling over as he attempted to correct his posture, wobbling as his balance was thrown off. Steadying himself, he held out a hand for a shake. He nervously eyed the flask produced by the goblin, suddenly realizing how dry his throat had become. He coughed a little, as if his phlegm might produce some sort of alcoholic substance. Perhaps this goblin might have some more goods on his boat somewhere... "Zul'Alana be my name, but ya' can be callin' me Tinbelly," the troll answered, brushing his long, sea green hair out of his face with a gloved hand. "An' if ya be supplyin' entertainment-an' a bit a' refreshment-on dat boat a' yours, I will be glad ta' join ya', mon." |
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| Damascus Brickburner | Sun Oct 11, 2009 9:25 pm Post #5 |
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"Refreshments we have, a wee bit of music too. It all depends on what your willing to drink, and if you can put up with the flute." he smiled and jumped into the boat, motioning for the troll to follow. He pulled out a bottle, made of blue tinted glass. It was filled with an equally blue liquid. The liquor was strong enough to use as varnish remover, but it tasted delicious. It was perfect for cold weather. He spoke a few words in his native language to his brother. Jaques nodded and pulled out a long clay flute. He got up and moved to the front. Damascus took his brother's seat and tossed the bottle lightly to the troll. He shoved off from the shore with the oar and began to paddle toward Cascadia. His brothers flute playing sweet simple music, as if the wind itself was singing. Damascus paddled against the current. It was rough work. Aseph was sitting on his head, swaying with the music of his brother. His arms were getting tired, he had no idea how his brother could do this all day long if necessary. He shook his head. When his brother finished the song he said, "So, Tinbelly, what brings you to these parts?" |
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| Tinbelly | Sat Nov 7, 2009 10:23 pm Post #6 |
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Tinbelly eyed the blue bottle greedily as the little goblin produced it, but he kept his mouth shut. It wasn't often he was so readily offered liquor, not without a price at least. As his eyes sank into the deep blue of the bottle, he became mesmerized, suddenly realizing how long it had been since he'd really had anything to drink. The bottle at his side was only something he had swiped from an unoccupied table deep in the city, where his size, and unnerving appearance kept shopkeeps from bothering him, questioning him, or demanding the return of a near-empty bottle that was already payed for, besides. Such petty things were hardly worth losing a life over, though Tinbelly promised himself he would never take a life. Never. He caught the bottle in an uneasy hand, and surprised himself with the dexterity with which he removed the cork from the thin mouth of the bottle and took a gluttonous swig of the liquor within. The liquid that passed his lips energized him. It was fantastic. It was like a warm fire, like a soft bed, like a good meal, three things he hadn't experienced in months. In the months since his arrival in Cascadia, he'd had nothing but liquor and scraps of food. He'd lived like a dog. He'd lived worse than a dog, carrying on his pathetic existence only because he lacked the guts to throw himself from Cascadia, and because he so craved the next chance he would have to feel the cool glass of a full bottle against his parched, blue lips. "I been livin' here fo' yeahs na'. Used ta be a paht 'f a carnival act, yeh." the troll simply stated, not bothering to elaborate on his obvious drinking, and homelessness problem. |
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| Damascus Brickburner | Sat Nov 7, 2009 10:37 pm Post #7 |
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Damascus nodded. He hated to see someone exploited like that, a circus act. I mean of course he was immensly strong, but so were several other humans. Why were they not on display. He sighed and continued rowing. His brother's song ended, and the flute was put away. Jaques motioned for his brother to stand, which he did. They traded places, Jaques resumed rowing, and Damascus pulled out a matching bottle of the one he had given to Tinbelly. He took a swig and blinked hard. It was extremely strong, but was his village's best and one of the only exports. All Damascus was carrying was several bottles of liquor, a few straw mats, and a few necklaces. It was hardly what you would call a load, but it was on the boat, and would be sold by the next day. This would supply him with ample money to buy things his town needed; medicine, cloth, needles and salt. He looked back at the large man, and Aseph peering quietly at the man from the inside of a crate of mats. Damascus looked up at the dimming sky, it was a clear night, cool and clear. "Well then, If you would not mind, could you tell me a bit about yourself. We have a bit of a trip ahead of us, and we might as well talk." he smiled. |
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| Tinbelly | Sat Nov 7, 2009 11:15 pm Post #8 |
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Tinbelly blinked at the words of the little goblin, and shook his head slightly, taking a large gulp from the bottle in his hand and crossing his legs. "I don' be knowin' much. I neva' seen anot'a one o' me kind, but dey must be out dere soma', ya know?" He answered, offering a weak smile with his response. "An' yaself? Ya be a merchant, mon?" he asked. Though he already knew the answer to the question, he was only trying to make conversation, nearly worried that if he stopped talking, the friendly goblin would throw him out. The troll knew that he wasn't a pleasant sight, unwashed, and wearing tattered clothing. His left ear was nearly torn off, and his face was bruised, his chin littered with purplish stubble. He sighed and took another drink of the powerful liquor, its strength hardly phasing him, but the soothing alcohol calming his nerves, giving him strength and energy, making him feel less like the wreck he really was. |
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| Damascus Brickburner | Sat Nov 7, 2009 11:44 pm Post #9 |
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"No, just a fisherman. But I know how to speak with humans, so I got sent with my brother over there." he pointed to Jaques. "He doesn't talk much normally, let alone in common tongue. We are just getting needed supplies for my village." he spoke quietly. He had never really told anyone about his village before. He shifted his gaze out to the water. He took another sip of liquor and sighed. "Sure is a nice night." he observed. He gazed out at the trees and was greeted by the light of Cascadia, high in the darkening sky. To his left there stood the docks, crowded by boats of all shapes, styles, and sizes. He motioned for Jaques to go directly up to one of the smaller wharfs. He obliged, and they were soon tethered to the wooden post of the dock. Damascus stepped out of the boat, with the aid of his spear; Aseph perched atop his head on his large floppy hat. He was greeted by a small wiry man with a large ledger in his hands, a gnomish boy at his ankles. "What can I do for you today sir?" asked the man in a voice that seemed to display his contempt. "I'll be wanting a place to dock for the night, and most of the day tomorrow, maybe for another day after that; depending on how long I am here." The man looked up his nose at the goblin, "That will be sixty-four gold and seventeen silvers." he said matter of factly. Damascus had never been charged that much for a docking. He shook his head and smiled, "Tell you what, I will pay you fifteen gold, and three silvers." he smiled wide and showed his long canines. The man simply asked in a condesending tone, "Must we barter over such trivialities? I can always call the guards, and I know your kind live just up there in the sewers; so you can call them by just yodeling. Why don't we just decide what to do?" he pointed up to the floating city of Cascadia. Damascus gritted his teeth, clenching his fist around his spear. He merely smiled, hate entering his eyes. |
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5:57 PM May 23
