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Backstory competition runner-up 4 |
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Written by Captain Obvious
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Friday, 09 December 2005 |
And so we're on to our fourth runner up. I feel the need to remind people that the runners-up are in no particular order, they're all joint for their place in the winners. Congratulations to Nightfall for this one, he's won himself a beta access key!
The captain leaned in his chair against the end of the wall, situated so that he can watch the whole of the tavern while picking at his fingernails with a dagger. The knife was adorned with a bone hilt encrusted with a few jewels. He was dressed like a noble in his crimson red waistcoat and breeches and adorned a black hat with a red feather attached to the side. His necklace sparkled in the form of a cross in the dim light as he prepared to interview his next shipmate.
“So, I believe ye were about to mention where ye came from, me lad. If ye be boardin’ up on my ship, I want to know what ye be capable of.”
John Tyrel slowly looked up from his bowl of soup, which was purchased from the captain, and took a deep breath.
“Well Sir, I been told from me mum that I was born right before the big quake of Port Royale, you know, the one in July of 1692. Well, me father died in that quake and me mum survived and protected me while the whole town was dyin’ from injuries and disease. We left and settled in the outskirts of Port de Paix until I was six, I believe. Me mum disappeared one day and left me with no one to raise me. I was forced to join a street gang and we fed on our skills to survive. I quickly learned to steal from the other kids and I focused my thefts from those who could afford to miss their riches. I especially enjoyed visiting the festivities the governor would put out for the visiting nobles. I’d say I would leave the event with the equivalent of your quartermaster’s salary, I believe.”
The captain leaned forward with his chair loudly thumping the wooden plank floor, “Is that so?”
“Aye! I’d say I was the best breadwinner in the gang, but everyone shared what we took. I ne’er kept everything for myself. Anyway, I also took a few jobs on the decks and learned the ropes, so to say, of sailin’. It also happens I became somewhat of an expert in knives.”
The captain chuckled, “Ho! Now isn’t that a bit of a perk!” Then unexpectedly, the captain flipped the hilt of his dagger to his hand and threw it at John.
Even faster, John caught the knife by its hilt and slammed the blade into the wooden table, refraining from retrieving one of his many hidden throwing dirks from his forearm.
Instead, John looked at the dagger as it stood perpendicular with the table and explained, “For instance, I had already assessed that this beautiful knife of yours is not balanced correctly for throwing and by the way you carried it, I already knew you really couldn’t wedge the blade in my forehead as intended.”
The captain sat for a split second while staring at John wide-eyed. He then got up from his chair and ended the meeting, “Me lad, you’ll do great on me ship. I’ll find a position for you somewhere up on deck, but only between us, ye’ll be trainin’ as my new quartermaster. Not as a powder monkey as ye’d thought. Me quartermaster be retiring soon anyway, if ye know what I mean. We set off in three days time at nightfall, so prepare yourself. I’ll supply your weapons.”
John couldn’t feign his astonishment and replied to the captain, “Thanks, but I’ve got my own. I’ve got a couple flintlock pistols and me own cutlass, which I prefer.”
The captain slapped John on the back as they walked out of the tavern together, “Of course ye do, me lad! Welcome aboard the Royal Fortune! Me mates call me Black Bart and so can ye!”
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