Classic-Castle Roleplay: April 2005

[Formendacil]

Grid: M-24
Location: Approaching the Old Ruins.

It was evening as the Sorcerer-king and his entourage arrived at piece of land known as the Old Ruins. It was a several mile-wide piece of land fenced off by an ancient, crumbling stone wall. It was forested, except for the road running down its centre to the ancient city in the middle, which was all un-treed. The whole piece of land had an eerie feel to it, and by order of the Emperor, it was sealed off from casual visits. But it was a needless order, as most people coming near had the good sense to leave as soon as they came near it.

All the same, a small garrison was posted where the road ran into the forested property. A dozen or so soldiers, clad in the blue and yellow shamrock livery of the Talistani soldiers.

Rather startled at seeing any action, and a whole contingent of strange Dragon Masters and a detachment of Cavaliers to boot. However, they quickly got over their shock, and willingly ushered them into the Old Ruins upon getting a request to do so from Quorandis.

"Was that all you wanted me for?" asked Quorandis. "Surely a letter from the King or Emperor would have done as well."

"Oh no, Commander-General," said the Sorcerer-king, "this is just the first step. The Old Ruins, the TRUE Old Ruins, are the ancient city at the centre of this preserve, which was only set up by the Emperor, many long years ago, for the protection of poor, innocent, little peasants. What do you know of the city itself?"

"It's very, very old," said Quorandis. "Predating the Empire, predating any of the kingdoms of Dametreos. It was the centre of a great kingdom long before King Kris and Lord Inion came to blows. During the tumultous years of evil that followed King Kris' death, it was a centre of safety, one of the few peaceful places in Dametreos. Many great mages lived here, and it was their magic that kept this island safe.

"Unfortunately, the mages died off over the years, and they took no apprentices. The kingdom fell apart, and as the evil that pervaded Dametreos subsided, people left the city, and settled the countryside. Finally, the last mage of the old City banished all but a select few from the city, and sealed it off to the world. The remnants of the city re-settled elsewhere on the island, eventually forming the Kingdom of Talistrand, which was annexed by the Empire in 716 C.C."

"A very concise history," said the Sorcerer-king. "The last mage, the one who sealed off the city, made it possible for people to enter the city. The king of the city, whose authority was inherited by the Kings of Talistrand, and then the Emperors by annexation, had the authority to allow people back into the city. There's no guarantee that they will be able to get out, but that does not concern me."

"It doesn't?" said Quorandis. The Sorcerer-king sighed inwardly. Quorandis was somewhat tedious, but it was best to keep him content, at least until they were into the Ruins. Then, it wouldn't matter.

"I am going to the Old Ruins to retrieve the magics of the old mages, the same magics which protected the city during the years of evil, and which hold it sealed off right now. Once I hold that magic, I will be able to remove the barrier, and leave as I choose."

"Us included, of course," said Quorandis, with a quick look over at Elbadar.

"Of course," said the Sorceror-king, deadpan, although he had no such intentions.

"So this magic is not the same as your own then?" said Quorandis. "It is not Mana?"

"My magic is not Mana," said the Sorceror-king, glad to be headed to a slightly different topic. "The magic of the Mages was Mana, like all the Sorcerors of Dametreos, but they used often the Earth Magics of the goblins. My own magic, and that of my rival, the Old Man, is a different magic altogether, native to our own lands."

"So it IS the same as your own then?" said Quorandis.

"The magic of the Ruins is not like mine," said the Sorcerer-king. "No, the magic of the Old Ruins is Mana, but a very powerful Mana, and a Mana that is not connected to the greater Mana of Dametreos. It is its OWN Mana, the Mana of the city, somehow cut off from that of Dametreos as a whole. Therefore, it was not affected by the Mana-drainings of BloodVaine, nor can it be influenced by a Mana-wielding sorcerer. Only one with the authority to command may enter or allow others to. It is a very powerful magic."

Quorandis' head was starting to ache, but before he could ask another question, they rounded a bend in the tree-lined road, and found themselves staring at the gates of the Old Ruins. The city wall ran off into the trees, a faint, blueish glow covering it.

"This is where you must shine, Commander-General," said the Sorcerer-king with an ever-so-slight smile on his face. "I can do nothing here."

[Sir Drake]

Swifts blood boiled in his veins, sweat dripped of his forehead as he woke up, right on time, in the distance he heard voices...

Swift hooded himself with the hood of his long black cloak, his face was completely covered with shadows. He silently unsheated two curved shortblades and without making a noise he jumped in a tree.

Footsteps were getting harder now, men were coming closer. Finally, Swift could see them, there were around fifty soldiers trampling through the mud.
As the soldiers marched past Swift, he left the tree and moved in the shadows. With and agile move he pulled a soldier in the bushes and sliced his troath. So he did with another. After a while the men held a break and noticed that they had lost twenty soldiers. The captain began to worry, they were only marching for five minutes through the forest and he had allready lost twenty soldiers.

"Set up a basecamp here!!" he ordered "get some scouts and search the area for any bodies!"

The men began to place their tents while scouts were getting on the move. Five scouts came deadly close to Swifts current position. He grabbed his bow and took an arrow. He fired and killed three men with a single arrow. He took his curved blades again and jumped at another one, killing him instantly, silenced. Before the remaining scout turned and noticed, he was allready back in the shadows of the wood.
Ghosts..., the scout thought, there are ghosts in this forest!
The scout went back to the captain and gave a full report. The captain got scared, his men could handle any living man, but their weapons could not cleave fleshless spirits.

Then, Swift walked in the camp, revealing himself to the captain, his long hood covered his face with shadows, when he threw it back, the captain stepped back, full of fear.

"You, you are Archidamus, isn't it?"
"Actually, he is Khorne Hellscream, son of Gabriel Hellscream, leader of the Rogue Wolves tribe" a man said that stepped out of the treeline.
"Bane Bonecleaver, leader of the Darkspear tribe" he said.

Bane was a tall, muscled man. His face was painted with blue warpaint, his hair was set in a roostercomb with chalc. On his back a large bow hung, on his side a large blade. Behind him all kind of other soldiers appeared.

"The Darkspear tribe is on your side, Lord Khorne" Bane said and kneeled.
"How do you know it is me?" Swift asked.
"We were watching you when you killed those soldiers, you are the same sleek fox as your old man was"

The captain's face went pale.

"Impossible, twenty soldiers killed by one man, without someone even noticing?"
"Do you think we would kneel for someone that has no battlestrength? Do you think that we would bow to one that has no art of combat? We are the Darkspear tribe, we bow to no one else than ourselves, do you see? This is no ordinary man" Bane said while he stood up.

Around the captain, his soldiers began to throw away their weapons and kneel for Swift.

"It is time to step out of the shadows, friend, unite the clans like your forefather, you are the true Wolf by birthright, the throne belongs to you!" Bane said.
"I'm sorry friend, but I have not such intentions, the world has changed since the early days before colonisation, the tribes no longer control the right. Even I have the rule of the Wolf Pack by birthright, that would only be by a legend, one that dates before the times of the Classic Emperor, I only want to reunite the clans, assure a safe Wolf Pack, one that will be in peace again, I want to be a free man, no royal king, I'm sorry" Swift said.
"You don't need to apologise, you are right about everything, but still we shall support you 'till the very end"
"Thank you for the trust you spare"
"Now, what to do with this worm?"
"Let him go, let him spread word, the Wolf is back under his kin" Swift said.

With that, the captain quickly ran of, out of the forest, back to his friends to tell them the news.

Swift told Bane everything he could, about him joining Varras, about his visions of Aaylah. Bane understood Swift, Bane would rally the other tribes while Swift would go to Daggerfall, going to Aaylah. After Bane would've rallied the tribes, he would need to leave for Fell Isle to, the united tribes would deliver a critical stab in the heart of Varras' policy.

"How will I be able to convince the tribes to join our cause?" Bane asked.
"Here, take my sword, it is forged in the fires of the Core of the World, it was wielded by the great Archidamus himself when he drove the Red Flames out of here, it was lost for many years, only the Wolverine, reincarnation of the Wolf would be able to find it, so I did, this is the prove of my identity, carry it with you, so long my friend, do well on your quest"
"So do you, so do you"

With that, Swift left Bane and his Darkspear tribe and left towards the Sharpfang Coast, there he would get a boat and travel to the mainland.

[The Green Knight]

With an enormous roar, the crowd poured down on the stage. The soldiers were in a state of confusion, not knowing whether to stop the prince or the mob. Meanwhile, Targon made a beeline for the princess.

“Hang on missy.” He said, flinging her over his shoulder. “We need to get you to safety.” Quickly Targon made his way out of the mob and into one of the alleys. Yes, things were going his way.

“Put me down! Ohhhh, put me down you great oaf!” The princess was squealing and squirming like a worm on a hook. At last Targon ducked into a stable and with one last look behind to make sure no one had followed, threw the princess unceremoniously down on a pile of straw.

Targon himself flopped down beside her after a moment. “Ah-ha-ha, if I had known it was that much fun inciting riots I would’ve started years ago.” And Targon let lose with a roaring laugh.

“What are you doing!” The princess interrupted Targon. She was standing over him now, leering down at the Dragon Master. “Are you trying to kidnap me?”

Targon looked up. It was the first good look of the princess he’d gotten. She was a rather petite girl, not tall but still pretty as far as crusader girls went. “What?” Said Targon in hurt voice. “Now why on earth would you think that?”

“Mother says I should always be on the look out for kidnappers.” She folded her arms and turned up her nose with a look of superior intelligence.

“Well, sounds you’ve got a smart mother. Always listen to yer Mum. That’s what I say. So happens, she’s right. I am kidnapping you.”

The girl gasped. “Well! You’ll never get away with it!”

“Oh I think I will. By the time they realize you’re gone, I’ll be out to sea in a pinched sailboat. Speaking of which, time we’re off.”

“Oh! You’re not going to put me over your shoulder again?”

“I just might.” Said Targon scooping her up.

“Why you Brute!”

“Why thank you miss. Oh, and I’ll remind you to keep a civil tongue in your head from now on. I’m not above putting you out for a spell.”

And with that Targon slipped from the stable into the empty streets of Port Crowne, face turned to the wharf.

[The Green Knight]

Dale and Alex, both heartily agreed and passed their pints around for another filling. So the reunited friends talked well into the night, and when Walf finally laid his head down to rest, he was asleep right away. But before his mind slipped into dream, he had one final thought. Everyone had spoken their mind on what they planned to do and where they were headed. Everyone but him, that was. What would become of Walf? He had overheard some vague words about him staying with Jos, but nothing was said for certain, and before he think on this more, Walf was out.

J-10
Orion
Some days later when Alex, Keavur and Logen were out on the town, Walf went down into the kitchen of the Gold Wallow inn to see what Jos was doing. Walf found the baker just as he was removing a fresh batch of bread from the oven and setting it out to rise.

“Where is everybody?” asked Walf grabbing an apple from a nearby basket of fruit.

“Aht-aht-ah.” Said Jos, snatching the apple and putting it back. “You’ll get yours soon enough without dipping into the customer’s food. Now, Logen and the rest have left for the—

“Left?” said Walf, alarmed. “Without saying goodbye? Without taking me with them?”

“Calm down Walf, they just went out to take in the city. Speaking of which… Walf are you sure you want to go with them when they leave?”

“I don’t know. Might as well I suppose. Don’t have any home here.”

“Hmmm yes. You know I can’t help thinking back to the quiet days before the war. I didn’t really know you then. Walf to me was just a nice boy who bought bread from me fairly regularly. But now… Well I guess I’ve become sorta attached to you. What I guess I’m trying to say is… How would you like to stay here and live with me?”

Walf was silent for moment, looking into Jos’s eyes to be sure he was serious. “I’d like that.” He said at last. “I’d like that very much.”

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

And with that Targon slipped from the stable into the empty streets of Port Crowne, face turned to the wharf.

Viktor at last managed to disintangle himself from the insane crowd. As he backed himself away, his feet scraping across the cobblestones, he shook his head. The crowd had devolved into a mindless mob, and were now being slaughtered. How stupid.

Something suddenly caught Viktor's eye. It was a man, with -- no, could it be? -- the Crusader princess slung over one shoulder. He was running away from the mob and into the narrow streets of Port Crowne.

Bloody odd time to kidnap someone... thought Viktor wryly.

He began to run after the man. Viktor, with no burden to carry, was begining to catch up when suddenly he ran smack into another person coming on from a side street. Their skulls cracked together and then collapsed to the ground, utterly stunned. The other person was the first to get up. Viktor saw a once it was a woman. She had short, black hair and was clad in a light blue tunic.

"Whoa...darlin'..." groaned Viktor, attempting to push himself to his feet.

Suddenly a knife was at his throat.

"Don't call me that!" she hissed.

Megabloks...what's her problem? Viktor thought, befuddled.

[TheOrk]

M-7 Garbite, a Wolf Pack city

Night fell swiftly on Garbite. It, as far as wolfpack cities went was a hole in the ground. It was a massive shanty town with a few dozen decrepid stone buildings in the middle. Night was considered day here. Half the shanties there were either dives or opium dens. It like all cities do, lost money from the fell wars. But with the new “big wigs” in charge, it profited greatly. Even if all the borders guarded.

Kale the Kinslayer walked openly down one of the side streets. He knew this city wouldn’t last forever. Many fresh mass graves lined the outskirts. All perished in either a bar fight, a pit fight or a fight about a pit fight. The Lord Mayor would drop dead from fright if he saw how the economy was going. But then again there was no leader figure at all.

War still raged and that was apparent. Marching around the city were hordes of heavily armed men, brandishing spears. Kale had seen them up close, he did not relesh a second meeting. He had seen them, all loyal to some Warlord named Varras or something. They slaughtered a dozen men loyal to a Willem Blackcloak, right in the middle of the street.

Kale bore his Bull crested shield openly. Varras’s cronies would have loved an excuse to bully someone. But them and the city dwellers had learned the hard way to avoid his blade. Besides he was easily the most impossing man there who posessed itelligence. He was clad in a full suit of ebony euro armour, all visible patches of skin were criss crossed with scars. A jagged red one streaked down the place where his left eye had been.

He approached his destination. One of the stone buildings. He stepped inside, the pair of guards in the doorway nodded in respect. Kale nodded back. For the past several decades he had lived by the sword and Pythos’s powers. The only thing he regret in his life was not being able to spit on his former King one last time. But the Black Falcons saw to that…

He had moved from one gamblingden/bar/gladiator pit to another. The citizens labeled him the local tough guy. This was the last real fighting pit in the city. This was the last stop here before he left and he needed money.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"Whoa...darlin'..." groaned Viktor, attempting to push himself to his feet.

Suddenly a knife was at his throat.

"Don't call me that!" she hissed.

Megabloks...what's her problem? Viktor thought, befuddled.

"What the tyco are you doing!" he shouted. The knife pressed closer.

Bad move, he thought to himself, this is not a gal to mess with...let's try a change of tactics...

"Er...sorry...for running into you..." he murmured.

The woman's eyebrows rose.

"Well, that's a first. Usually megabloks in your position snarl and swear...then I kill them."

Definitely not a gal to mess with. Viktor confirmed inwardly.

"I know when I'm not in a position to swear at my enemy."

"Then you're smarter than you look."

The woman withdrew her blade and stood a distance away.

Viktor muttered, "Much oblidged." and stood, brushing grime off his cloak. They stared at one another, both tensed, both ready to square off in an instant, then the woman nodded sharply and snapped, "Watch where you're going next time."

Then she was off down the alleyway. Viktor stared after her, rubbing his neck.

"I wouldn't want to meet ye up a dark alley." he said, then turned away. The prospect of having his throat split open made him thirsty.

"I need...a pub."

[TheOrk]

M-7 Garbite

Over a hundred filthy people were in the room and another hundred were pushing their way in. In the center of the circular room was a small pit. It was a rectangular and deep, deep enough so that the particpants couldn’t climb out. It’s stone floor was stained blood red and brix and blox like shards of armour and weapons were scattered about.

Up on a big brickboard, a fat rat like man was taken bets. A dozen of Varras’s men guarded entrances and the bet taker. Another dozen men hired by the owner also walked around.

Kale sqeezed through the teeming mass of minfigs. In the pit below a giant ogre like man had just broken a smaller man like a child’s doll. A small scuffle broke out in the gladiator pen, as none wished to face the giant.

Kale made his way to gladiator pen. If no one volunteered the gladiators would have to duke it out. Once they saw him, they gave him a slap on the back and ushered him in.
Kale slowly drew his sword, but kept his shield on his back. The giant looked down on him with contempt. Before the announcer could speak, the two combatants charged each other.

The giant swung a huge club in one hand. Kale ducked and stabbed, the giant blocked with a smaller stick. Growling he brought his club down, Kale jumped back just in time. It shattered the stone floor. The two continued the dance, to the drunken praise of the mob.

Kale was too fast for the giant to touch and the giant took up enough space to only fight with one arm, while he used the other to defend. The giant brought his club down again, striking the ground, before he could wrench it out, Kale put his foot on it.

Just it loosened out, Kale used it as a spring board. Scoring a jagged gash down the giant’s side. In uncontained fury, he droped his clubs. Growling he leapt at Kale, hoping to turn him to mush.
Kale gave him an icy stare with his eye, he unslung his shield and threw it. It struck the brute square between the eyes. Drawing a fountain of blood. The giant fell backwards impaling himself on the grate, much to the delight of the mob.

Kale raised his sword to his fans. He knew he would win, he always won. After exchanging words with the announcer, Kale was on his way out with a small pouch full of gold.

This scene was getting old, he made his way to the gates. He couldn’t wait to be out of here. Just as he rounded a corner a knife flew at his head.

[Sir Drake]

Grid: O-7
Location: Cape Fang, Sharpfang Port

Swift had traveled all night, he was dead tired, but his will do see Aaylah back gave him the strength to continue. So, finally he arrived at Sharpfang Port, the place for Wolf Pack thiefs, smugglers, outlaws and of course: pirates. Swift wished not to draw attention on him, but as the almost two metres tall man he was, that was difficult. But as well as he could, he went to the local docks.

"Ah, Abbadon, it has been a while, hasn't it?" Swift said to a dark skinned man.
"Small Khorne? Impossible, mon, you have grown a lot since ya last came here"
"To be precise, it has been almost ten years, it think I was ten, then"
"Yeah, together with ya ol' man, how's da ol' gaffer doin' these days?"
"Well, he's pretty quiet lately, he's dead" Swift said.
"I'm sorry to hear that, well now, back to business, what do you want from me?"
"I need you do take me to Fell Isle, I need to go to the Spire"
"Ok, then, but you do know that the number increased seriously on da Sea, that'll cost you some more, I thought about 100 gold coins"

Swift grinned, then in a quick move he placed his dagger against Abbadon's throat.

"I thought about 50, an old friend's price, that'll be fine"
"Ok, ok, just don't kill me, mon"

Swift threw a small leather poach at Abbadon. He checked it and saw it was good.

"Welcome aboard" he said.

Swift stept aboard of the Tidebreaker, Abbadon's ship. It didn't took long for the ship was in open seas. The wind was good, so were the waves and soon the ship reached Fell Isle. Now, it was only a matter of crossing the Dark Forest lands.

Swift said goodbye to Abbadon and walked through a small port town, when he wanted to exit the town, some Dark Forest guards stood in his path.

"Halt, name, please" one said.
"I'm Khorne Hellscream, I wish to travel to Daggerfall"
"I'm afraid that that's not possible, the borders are closed, you should even have come here, guard, take this man for trespassing and violating the Emperor's law, take him to prison"

A guard took Swift and stripped him of all his arms and bound his hands together. He leaded him away, into a prisoner wagon.

"You shall be transferred to the prisons of Kalai-dam, one of the most secured prison on the Fell Isle, there you shall remain untill the Civil War is over and your true King is back"

Great, Swift thought, free transport, some rest, what more does a man need?

In slow movements, the wagon started to move and soon the wagon was of to the prison.

[lemon_squeezer2]

The purge of the nobility was almost complete. From the very moment Martin had taken power, he had systematically eradicated all vestiges of that class. One thing bothered him though. Hindrich was missing. In the past two previous months the boy had been completely overlooked. The general knew that while the prince was not a threat in himself, he could be used to make his claim to the throne illegitimate. Right now nearly every FSS agent was scouring the city for any trace of the boy.

At that moment, Hindrich was sitting on a bench with a table in front of him. He was now an apprentice to John Harrison – a prominent clockmaker in the southeastern quarter of the city. The room he was in was an open one – the workshop had been designed to open directly onto the street. Life was so much more simple now. Already Hindrich had risen in trust with his employer, becoming one of the most valued of the four apprentices hired there.

Carefully the sixteen year old bent down, adjusting the double-lensed monocle on his right eye. Carefully he picked up a pair of small tweezers in one hand and an even smaller pick in the other. His daily tasks were done, and he was working on his most prized project – a clock that could be fastened to the wrist. He figured it would revolutionize the entire industry. It was late, and only a single candle illuminated his work Carefully he adjusted a small cog, nestling it on a pin that connected to yet another gear which in turn was fastened to a finely tuned spring. It fit perfectly and Hindrich breathed a sigh of relief as he put down his tools. He was tired and knew not to push himself to hard – especially when dealing with such a fine instrument.

The night air was chilly, and a light breeze wafted through the narrow streets causing his candle to flicker somewhat. He really was working too late, but inwardly the teenager felt proud of himself. Carefully Hindrich slid his work into a cupped hand, carefully depositing it in a convenient drawer. Taking the candle, he began to make his way to the stairs, candle in hand, when he heard a noise – an unmistakable sound of metal sliding against metal. Hindrich turned sharply, extinguishing his light accidentally.
“Who – who’s there?” His voice was shaky and uncertain, and all at once he began to feel very foolish. There was no answer – it was probably just his imagination, or just the wind playing tricks. Again he turned and began walking up to the second level when he heard it again.

[Formendacil]

Grid: M-24
Location: Approaching the Old Ruins.

Quorandis' head was starting to ache, but before he could ask another question, they rounded a bend in the tree-lined road, and found themselves staring at the gates of the Old Ruins. The city wall ran off into the trees, a faint, blueish glow covering it.

"This is where you must shine, Commander-General," said the Sorcerer-king with an ever-so-slight smile on his face. "I can do nothing here."

Quorandis looked up at the gate. It was composed of two huge, black metal doors, set into the stone walls. The walls were old, and somewhat crumbly. Where they had partially fallen down, you could see into the city, and tell that it was ruined and abandoned-looking.

"I just order it to open," he asked the Sorceror-king. "On my authority as an Imperial Officer?"

"Yes, yes," said the Sorceror-king, sounding patient, though in fact he was far from it.

Quorandis rode forward, and raised up his lance and pennant, so that the butt rested in his stirrup. The twelve other Cavalier formed a neat formation around him.

"In the name of Constantius VII, Emperor of Legoland and Overlord of Dametreos, acting as his highest representative in this kingdom, I, Commander-General Bernard Quorandis, order these gates to open, and admit those standing without!"

For a second, nothing happened. Then a small hole, rimmed with red, appeared in the shimmering blue haze before the gates. The hole widened, until it had uncovered the entire gateway. Then a deep creaking was heard as the bars holding the gates locked moved away from the doors, and the doors began to open outwards of their own accord.

"First six, follow me," said Quorandis. "The Sorceror-king and his soldiers are to follow. Last six, bring up the rear."

Quorandis then led the way in, six of the Cavaliers following immediately. They rode into the city. It was stone as far as the eye could see. Only a few plants grew among the cracking paving stones, and there was nary a sound to be heard. The sounds of the horseshoes on the paving seemd unnaturally loud.

Once the Dragon Masters and the other six Cavaliers had entered, the gates began to shut again, and the bars reaffix themselves in place, and the hole in the blue haze shrank until it vanished.

"Now what?" Elbadar asked the Sorceror-king.

"We find the source of the magics," said the Sorceror-king.

"And then retrieve it?" said Elbadar.

"Eventually," said the Sorceror-king, "but first we wait. I cannot retrieve the magic without the aid of a... device. And that device will not be in place for a short while yet. We must wait."

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Then she was off down the alleyway.

Rosa continued on down the street without a second glance. She ran cautiously, with her knife hidden under her tunic. She didn't want to slip on a cobblestone and skewer herself on her own blade.

Never run with a naked blade in front of you. she thought to herself.

As the streets widened and the large Port Crowne harbor came into view, Rosa slowed down to an ambling trot so as not to look too suspicious. She turned her head left and right, but saw no sigh of the armor-clad man with the princess over one shoulder. In fact, she saw no one at all. The expansive docks were completely void of people. All, presumably, had gone to watch to the coronation, and some no doubt were now hacking one another to pieces.

Stupid men...

A wayward mutt came up to Rosa and sniffed forlornly as her hand.

"Go 'way." she brushed the dog away and stepped onto the rocking planks of the dock itself. It was high tide, and the filmy seawater lapped at the underside of the dock like the dog now following Rosa.

"Go 'way." she repeated again, though not very earnestly. The dog wasn't bothering her, really. Rosa sighed and looked about the dock and the dozens of ships. Most of them were quite ugly, lumbering masses of rotten timbers incrusted with barnacles and creaking like a chorus of haunted houses. Sails and rigging hanged limply in the near-breezeless air, and the decks appeared to be deserted. The Crusader fleet, once the best in Dametreos, was now in pitiful ruin, all due in thanks to the ailing, and now dead, king, and the exploits of BloodVaine.

"Hmm."

Rosa had lost the scent. The man with his victim had vanished.

[The Green Knight]

And with that Targon slipped from the stable into the empty streets of Port Crowne, face turned to the wharf.

“Robert! Robert!” King Robert turned to the voice calling his name. It was over now, the riot, but only just over and Robert hadn’t a second to think before he heard someone calling his name. It was the voice of his wife the queen. Across the stage he saw her, surrounded by his guards. Her face…there was a pained look on her face. Something was wrong.
~
Targon whistled as he stepped down onto the docks.

“There you are Missy.” He said, dropping the princess into a light skiff. The Dragon Master bent down to undo the moorings and throw the ropes into the boat. It didn’t occur to Targon that anyone could be there before him, just as it hadn’t occurred to Rosa that she could have overtaken her quarry and reached the docks before him. In actuality she’d slipped passed him when he ducked into the stable, being distracted by the knight she ran into. So it happened that as Targon stood again, he found himself gabbed from behind and a blade pressed to his neck.

“What the—

“Try it! Just try it and make my day.”

Targon froze. Tyco, he thought. That sounds like a bloody women.

“Uh listen miss,” said Targon, opting for diplomacy. “I uh—

“Shut up! I’ll do the talking here. Now would you care to tell me what you’re doing with the king’s daughter?”

“Sailing lessons?”

“Funny.” Said the unseen voice, dryly. “You know I was planning on turning you over to the guards when they arrived, but at the rate you’re going… The voice trailed off but the knife inched closer.

Targon rolled his eyes. “A’right miss, ya got me. I’m stealin’ the princess. You got a problem with that? Since when is your type concerned about royalty?”
~
Rosa flinched. “Your type” What was that supposed to mean? “I’m concerned about a filthy man making off with a young girl!” she practically spat back.

“Well that’s a fine tale darl’n, but we both know you just wanted an excuse to get yer arms around this burly hunk a man.”

That did it. Targon’s throat was slit before you could say Viktor Okzskcarouldghf. Actually maybe that’s a bad example. Though perhaps a man whose example Targon should’ve followed.

The princess screamed at the grizzly sight as Targon slumped onto the dock. “It’s okay dear.” Said Rosa, stepping over Targon and extending her hand.

“You saved me!” said the princess, in awe.

But the princess didn’t hold that expression long. The form of the dragon master was moving. Rosa whirled around but Targon was already on the attack. Her knife hit the water with a splash as Targon grabbed her neck.

“Shouldn’t play with knives, Missy.” Targon's other hand was on his bleeding throat and there was no mistaking the cold anger in his voice. “Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

Rosa tried to speak but she couldn’t even breath. The world was fading into blackness.

Blackness—

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Rosa tried to speak but she couldn’t even breath. The world was fading into blackness.

Blackness—

Rosa awoke to the sounds of crying. Not her own, of course, but of the princess'.

"Tyco..." Rosa coughed out, and her hand immediately went for her knife. It was gone.

"I -- I think he threw it 'way!" sniffled the princess.

"Who...?" gasped Rosa, propping herself against a wall.

Where the megabloks am I?

"That -- that evil man!" the princess sputtered, "The man who kidnapped me!"

"Shifty-brick him!" muttered Rosa, still massaging her throat. She was lucky that brute hadn't crushed her voice box. She could just imagine the black and blue marks now impressed upon her throat.

"Where are we?" Rosa snapped.

"Dun -- dunno...."

Rosa looked at the sobbing princess contemptuously. She wasn't going to help. Unsteadily, Rosa stood and looked about. Curving wooden walls and metal bars surrounded them.

We're in a jail surmised Rosa. The room suddenly lurched. The princess wailed and Rosa, still unsteady, fell to the floor.

Not a jail, she realized, a brig. We're on a ship!

"Oh tyco that son of a shifty-brick!" Rosa swore.

The princess gasped, shocked beyond belief. Rosa looked a her and snorted.

"What's yer name?"

"Anna --- Anastasia..."

"Rosa."

"Can you get me home...? I want to home!"

Anastasia began to wail again.

"Oh shut up and let me think!" growled Rosa.

[TheOrk]

M-7 Garbite

Kale ducked, as the knife flew a hair’s breadth from his throat. He tore his sword out of his scabbard and charged. He knocked a shadowy figure over, he squirmed around without affect. With little grace Kale gave him a savage kick to stop him.

“Who are you?” He hissed, his sword poised on the other’s jugular.

“I b,bring a message from his greatness, Py, Pythos-”
The blood in Kale’s veins froze at the mention of the name. “And what does he want?” He spat in the mans face.
“He once again requires your aid, he said if I, his best assassin could slay you then you were unworthy of his attention.”

Kale nodded slowly, it was like Pythos to test him like that. “Where is he?”

“In,in the castle of Count Belzzar in F,fright Knight lands-” He no longer needed to say more. Kale stood up and wiped his blood of his sword. Returning it to it’s scabbard, he thought a moment. The powers that Pythos gave him waned with the passage of time, spilt blood no longer aided him.

Kale didn’t have any plans to die. Pythos would surely strengthen the spell on him. He set out immediately to find a horse. Once he had it, he bolted down the road. He knew there were border guards, but he enjoyed a good challenge…