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[westiex9]

prologue

Antiva City

1 year after the Fifth blight

9 Years before the Kirkwall incident 

Antiva is Kingdom with two faces, on the surface a place of beauty and opulance...but also of degradation and extreme poverty. Beneath the fancy clothing and festive airs of the countries wealthy nobility in particular lies a world of treachery and death in which only the most cunning and ruthless of men are able to survive and carve out an existance. 

Antiva's History is written by such individuals, from the many faceless Crows who murdered and poisoned to keep the nation in their invisible grip all the way to the merchant princes and bankers who do business with both pen and the poisoned stilleto.

Anton Maethus was one such man and his name, though by no means as well known  and infamous as that of the crows, when mentioned was enough to inspire outright terror in the hearts of his rival's and freinds alike.Anton Maethus was renowned for being completley amoral and utterly dedicated to the advancement of his own wealth and power,he held nothing sacred and would make deals with all from Slavers to blood mages. 

Now Anton Maethus was not a person to turn down a business venture simply because it was considered cruel or inhumane, he would willingly give loans to people and then sell them into slavery when they could not pay and he was more then happy to lend his band of brutal Mercenaries the "Ravens" to any paying customer be they someone legitimate like the Prince of Starkhaven all the way to the ones who lacked that integrity...such as one of the Free Marches many would be kings who butchered and subjugated their own people in order to claim said titles. The only things Anton "Raven Prince" Maethus cared about was the survival of his Dynasty ...and money ... the latter  being exactly why  soldiers of his private army came to the mouldering dockyard tenements one night with the intent to break the door of apartment five to pieces...and do likewise to the marked man inside.
 
Chapter 1:The Hand of Fate

My Name is Alvarro Drathis and if i can't find a way out of this apartment that name will be all but forgotten when the guards fish my maimed and bloated body from the sea.

The door is already starting to splinter when i awake, no one calls out my name or asks me to open up...the Ravens don't make social calls, they just kill you and leave.

No time to waste on packing, my heart is pounding so hard i think it might smash through my rib cage, with my sole hand i grab my belt and take very quick stock of my options.

Since my uninvited guests are at the door and about to break in through it that limits my choice of action somewhat, a one handed man armed with a pig sticker and a foul smelling sweat won't last two seconds against the brutes on the other side of the door...fighting these men is not an option...which leaves...Andraste's ashes...the bloody window!!

The Tenements are two stories tall and lead out into the lice infested misery that is the lower class district of Antiva City...i might do myself some nasty damage if i leap out the window...but if i stay here im a dead man, time to take the plunge....

the door smashes open with a sound like bones being broken, im already running towards the window...thank the maker i neglected to close the thing...ill never complain about the  Antivan summer again!

"Makers blooooooooddddddd!!!" i scream as against my bodies better instincts i throw myself from the open window and descend with the gut wrenching feeling of terror and vertigo down into the streets below...straight into a pile of straw...

"hmmm that wasn't so bad..." i mutter with a surprised look smashed into my face as if i had actually hit the pavement

"Bastardo!!! he's jumped out the bloody window...get down those stairs and after the stump handed dog!!" a voice coming from my former home booms out into the night air

Time to make myself scarce i think, i crawl from the hay pile and stumble off down a nearby side street hoping to give my would-be executioners the slip.

Despite being shirtless the cold night air doesn't even register, im sweating in fact, the heat of fear and instinct keeping me warm against the cold, i soon hear armoured boots stomping through the mud splattered streets behind me, my hunters are on the move and looking for me. 

I keep running and hope the people of Antiva have seen more strange sights then a Half naked man with one hand running down the street...
 
***********************************************

You know sometimes i wonder if im lucky or cursed...maybe its a bit of both now that i think about it...I used to be a smuggler did it for twelve years and made a small fortune sneaking various "substances" from place to place...so lucky...but i also was later arrested and sentenced to have my hand severed and be imprisond for the rest of my short life...so cursed...then again i also later was released and pressed ganged into the navy...i escaped at the first port of call...so kinda lucky...

Im digressing arn't i? also talking to myself...maker the stress of being hunted must be getting to me! 

look whatever i am my latest run of luck and misfortune is likely to leave me dead if i don't find a way out...Anton Maethus is not a man i want to meet personally..least of all when i owe his Merhcant house over 100 sovereigns...yeah maybe gambling away a small fortune after that botched job in Rivain was a bad idea....

Anyway no time to worry about the past...i have to find a way to ensure i have a future...need to find a safe place...somewhere i can hide from these thugs while i cobble together a plan... 

well...lets think...hmmm...theres Castillon...no he's old mates with Maethus...bloody slavers...what about taking ship? nope the authorities probably still intend to hang me for jumping ship...buggeration!!!

Who can protect an old smuggler when half the city is in Maethus's not insubstantial pocket....who would want to?

Wait thats it!! im sure im going to regret talking to her...everybody does...but she's the only one who would have a reason to spite Maethus...time to pay a visit to Mama and her horned ward...

Someone clearly still likes me,but not that much!

Modifié par westiex9, 13 octobre 2011 - 09:00 .

[westiex9]

Chapter 2: Come Crying to Mama

There are some tales that never stop being scary, they keep sending chills down spines well into adullthood, stories like Flemeth, Demons, Blights and if you live in the slums of Antiva city...theres Mama...except she isn't a story...even if she is just as terrifying as monster from the tales..

You See..im more then familiar with the tale of Mama...im a part of it 

Now any local of the slums could tell you the basic gist of the tale...theres this powerful Rivani Witch who appears one night and occupies a large compound in the slums...she offers help and favours to any who ask..but these favours always have a price...and she takes in orphans...except the orphans are always in some way differant...and if they arn't...she takes them to the cellar and you never see them again...

I am one those Orphans...i never knew my birth mother...she left me in Mama's care and dissapeared into the darkness of the unknown...Mama and her bizarre clan are the only family i ever knew...i grew up in her compound surrounded by strange offspring from countless races...mishapen elves...a deformed dwarf who lacked an eye where one should be and who had flashes of brilliance....a qunari girl of tal-vashoth birth who never leaves her side...

She told us that we were special and we listened for the most part, she was our mother and we lived and survived by her rule alone.She never made us stay and some like myself choose to go our own way once we are old enough...most stay however and Mama benefits greatly from their talents.

Mama is a powerful figure in the city, she has countless people in her debt from the pauper family whose sick child she saved all the way up to the powerful noble family whose fortunes were strangely improved overnight or whose survival was assured thanks to a sudden pregnancy...Mama gives...but she also takes...those who can't pay soon learn the meaning of misery.

Shes the only one who would have the power to stand up to Maethus or at very least keep me safe from him...but she always has a price...hence my reluctance to ask for Mama's help...

But she is my only real option and she is also the only person who i can trust to keep me from Maethus's clutches...you see its in her interest to do so...because Maethus owes Mama a favour and he  has long refused to acknowledge this...i don't know what he asked of her but the  fact that he refuses to repay her means it must have been something great and terrible...

The compound is up ahead as i run down muddy and now rain drenched streets...the worn beast carvings on the old stone wall that surrounds her sanctum seem to glare at me ominously, a thousand hungry eyes watching for the approach of their next meal..im coming home...and im terrified of that...

The compound is the remains of an old chantry house...one of the few survivals from the city that died when the darkspawn invaded centuries ago...now Mama lives here and not Aristocratic whim nor Zealous templar can dislodge her.

The rusted iron gate stands before my now soaked and freezing form...just as it was when i left it aged 18 some 24 years ago...thats the thing about Mama...nothing about her even changes...she's seemingly eternal...the rusted iron gate remains as do the painted skulls at the step and the countless animal bone necklasses hanging on ropes from the walls around the compound...eerie and unchanging 

I remember the entrance to Mama's lair like it was just yesterday that i left it ,the bell lies to the side of the gate, a small iron thing that visitors ring to alert mama to their presence...i reach with shaking hands and ring the bell loudly...

It isn't long before someone comes to the gate, a short and unkempt little elf with mad eyes and rough and dirt stained clothes, he fidgets as he walks towards the gate....Twitch......the thief mama uses to find things she wants...my brother 

"why are you here Alvarro!? thought you never wanted to see Mama again?" he asks in a suspicious voice 

It may have been 24 years since i last set foot here but Twitch remembers like yesterday, we were close once, brothers in all but blood and my leaving was seen by him as a betrayal...he has never forgiven me for abandoning a life in Mama's clan...guess i was expecting the cold reception. 

"I need to see Mama...let me in Twitch...its important" i say trying to get him to open the gate 

"Why should i? you'll just abandon us once you have what you want, just like before!" he says with a look of disgust 

i sigh and try to collect myself for a moment, Twitch is one of those people who forms very strong opinions about people, if you slight him even if you didn't know or mean to he will hold that grudge for as long as he feels he needs to. guess i must have offended him more then most, because its 24 years since i was last in person and he's as angry as ever.

"look Twitch i havn't got time to argue..open the doors and let me in! my life is at stake and id rather not die on the doorstep thank you very much!" i say in an ill tempered voice 

The threat of my death is enough, he is my brother still even if he tries to pretend otherwise, the gate opens and i am allowed through to the courtyard. This old stone square was where we orphans spent most of our time. Mama left us to our own devices mostly...only interfering when it served her interests or when she felt we needed to be manipulated or guided towards something...she was both  a distant and imminent figure in my childhood always present but always removed from out day to day lives. The adult orphans provided us with food and lessons, that was their role, mama's hands. 

I move towards the decrepit chantry house, its roof mended with straw and its body covered in seals,bones and magical symbols. I open the large wooden door which begins to creak loudly like a man under torture, i walk through and thats when Asara draws her sword and points it at my neck! 

"What are you doing here Alvarro...you never used to be so eager to visit your home!" she says sheathing the sword 

Asara is Mama's ward, a child of a Tal-Vashoth Sten who died long before i entered this world, her grey skin and dark horns mark her as an outsider amongst most peoples, but in Mama's house she is an equal of any.she gazes at me with Violet eyes that betray some surprise at my return.

"I need to see Mama, its important" i say in a blunt voice 

She narrows her eyes in suspicion,after all in 24 years why only now do i try to return home? 

"I will take you to her but remember Alvarro i will watch you from afar Asara" says with a gesturing hand pointing to Mama's quarters. 

we head down the hallway towards what would have been a Chantry Mother's office...a smell of mouldering furniture and candles fills the air with an eerie perfume...as i step towards the door i find myself looking down at a kneeling woman praying in some bizarre tonge.

"So, my one handed Fool returns to his home" Mama says without moving her head to face us..

a small seemingly shrivelled Rivani Woman with dark skin and white hair Mama stares up at me with milky eyes blinded by age and disease. I feel a shiver run down my spine...im home and i need to make my words cound because Mama is almost certain to demand a price for her shelter. 

"Mama...i need your help" i ask in a worried tone

Mama stares at me with her seemingly blind eyes, she had plans already set in motion and that is what i have to come to fear about Mama...she has a thousand ways to get her price and i don't even know what that price will be. 

Maker help me now. 
 
 

Modifié par westiex9, 02 octobre 2011 - 01:55 .

[Josielyn]

Fun to read! Your descriptive language made it very easy to visualize the scenery. Just a question, do Antivan orphans use the word "bloody" or something else when they are cursing? Keep it up! We will enjoy reading about Mama's price for assistance.

[westiex9]

Chapter 3:Of Bargains Struck and Souls Lost
 
Mama turns to face me, a cold smile crossing her age worn face, her milky white eyes seem to stare at me despite her blindness, they seem to bore a hole straight through me...

"There will be a price my little fool..there is always a price...even for family..especially for family" she says a finger raised in warning

I already knew that...ive seen enough of her dealings in my life to know she doesn't give her aid for nothing...but the way she says it seems to add new fear to an old understanding.

"I see you have been dealing with the Raven prince himself Alvarro...hmmm i take it you spent his coin poorly on the wheel of many an illicit den?" she says cold smile warming ever so slightly...and for what reason i am not sure

"Err...Si...many many foul dens...100 sovereigns worth of them in fact..." i say eyes gazing at my boots and a nervous hand on the back of my head

She laughs at this, which i find more terrifying then Mama smile and eyes put together, her chuckle sounds like the laugh of someone who knows my moves before i have even made them...a mother knowing her childs movements all too well

"You seem amused by all this Mama why?" Asara asks in a rare moment of curiosity 

She ceases her laughter and fixes her gaze upon me before she speaks, i feel frozen on the spot...kind of like that time i spent a winter in Nevarra...and licked a lampost...okay poor time for nostalgia 

"I am amused Asara because he is acting exactly as his nature dictates..my little fool is a creature of chance...its why he made such a good smuggler...Yes! my little fool likes to spin the wheel and gamble...he fights his battles in the arena of luck and misfortune...i see your luck still holds Alvarro...however tenuously...So little chancer you come back to Mama's den hoping for another spin at the wheel...Listen carefully then because my offer will only be given once" she says eyes still holding me in place 

she sighs and rises to stand, her dress making rattling and clinking sounds as she does so thanks to the countless charms trinkets and bottles that cover its belts and pockets, she moves towards a shelf and takes down a massive grimoire bound in...velvet surprisingly enough...get human flesh is out of season at this years maleficar's ball...

she opens it and scans her finger down a long stained vellum page filled with countless names..and dates...her finger stopping as she reaches the one she desires...Anton Maethus....912 Dragon...19 years ago...

"Tell me Alvarro..what do you know of our..dear freind..Lord Maethus..." Mama asks eyes still gazing at her vast archive of deals made and prices given...perhaps remembered some of her past transactions

"Well i know that he's a powerful and ruthless merchant prince...that i owe him one hundred too may sovereigns and that unless those armoured men bashing at my door were an over-zealous group of messengers seeking to invite me to his mansion for tea and afternoon poison..that he wants me dead...and not in the gentle way of your average señora" i reply my characteristic sarcasm returning 

A fiendish smile crosses Mama's lips...guess she always did like my sense of humour "Close...but a little bit lacking in details mi hijo...19 years ago he came to my door and asked me to do something of considerable difficulty...i asked for something in return and when the deed was completed as promised...my price was not accepted..." she says eyes filling with memories of the past

"Let me guess...he didn't want to sacrifice his newborns in return for wealth riches and an Orlesian Masseur?!" i ask unable to resist 

she glares at me and thunder strikes in the distance...all humour vanishes from the room in a matter of seconds....

"Close again my boy...but the sacrifice of his young was part of the service...and the price? a book actually...and you my little jugador are going to be my debt collector..." she says a dark smile crossing withered lips once more...only this time its not warm and i feel nothing but dread as those blind eyes fix upon me...

A Book...but any book Mama might want is not likely to be of the pleasant sort...Malidicion! lucky but unlucky i think im cursed!

********************************************************************* 
The rain was falling heavily, drenching everyone and everything in the usually bustling streets of Antiva City's noble district, Anton Maethus wondered if it would be enough to wash away even the most tenacious of street urchin...or at very least drown them...he was in a bad mood and with good reason...

Turning from the stained glass view he slumped in his ancient oak chair...it had been a difficult day...first his guards had failed him miserably when he sent them to apprehend and punish some fool debtor...and now far more disturbing...his son had entered one of his frequent and lamentable..."phases"...the boy had become especially agressive this time and bitten one of the servants fingers off in a state of uncontrolled rage..he was now howling and tugging on his viridium chains in the manors "Quiet room"

Anton had long wondered if it would not have been better to have let Nestor die 19 years ago... in a sense he had...

19 years ago his son then only five had been afflicted with a terrible sickness, something so malignant that even the finest healers sovereigns could buy were unable to do anything...desperate  for a solution, his dynasties entire future uncertain and his son on the brink of death Maethus had taken a chance on a rumour circulating amongst the slum dwellers...an ancient woman with the power to grant any wish...for a price...

With no options left Anton had gone to the cities maze like poor district and sought out her aid, his son then so close to death that his flesh was icy to the touch and his breathing nothing more then a feeble wheeze...she had promised to stop the boy from dying...she had warned him of the cost..but he had not listened...so desperate for his sons deliverance had he been that he agreed before the price was even uttered. 

As it turned out it was a little black book that Anton kept in the manor vault along with his other curiosities....the artifacts and forbidden objects he had yet to find an apostate or other illicit buyer for...it was a tome wrapped in black scale an image of a black fortress on its front...the Tome of the Black Palatine...an old Tevinter relic that even the magisters had found too gruesome to keep and had discarded in a fit of terror...Mama as the woman had called her self wanted that tome and he had agreed she could have it...if she saved his son...

A ritual was performed behind closed doors...and after its conclusion the boy had been returned...seemingly by miracle he had been healed....he seemed fine...a normal five year old boy...but he had been far from fine as events had proven...

mere days after his "Healing" Nestor had begun to exhibit strange behaviours...small things at first..anger...foul language..uncharacteristic cruelty towards the servants...

Then the animals began to go missing...carcasses found maimed beyond reconigition...

she had taken his boy and tainted him with some evil from the fade...a demonic visitor...it had saved the boys body with the new found strength it had bestowed upon nestor...but warped his mind...twisting him into a creature of sadistic tendencies...

The outbursts became more pronounced as the years wore on until the bodies moved from animal to human...Anton loved his boy...but the mess was becoming more and more excessive and increasingly difficult to cover up...the childs stints in the "Quiet Room" were becoming longer and longer...

Mama had saved Nestor's body...but damned his mind and soul...

He would never give her the book after such an act...he'd see her bleed though....he'd promised himself that...

The entrance of Anton's Seneschal distracted his chain of thought

Carlos, Maethus's personal Seneschal and secretary, a man responsible for dealing with the lords business on a day to day basis.His beady black eyes and twitching nervous disposition combined with his unkempt grey hair, wrinkled face and ink stained clothing to make him appear more like a shaking ball of nerves then a competant human being. But competance along with brown nosing are Carlos's saving graces, a more independant secretary would invite Anton's suspicion of theft or treason...no better a lickspittle then a conspirator ...

"What is it Carlos!? im not in the mood for distractions!" he says with a low voice that was almost a growl

"My lord Senor Castillon has a new offer...one hundred slaves from Northern Ferelden...he says they are selling well in Kirkwall...." Carlos  replies in a voice barely able to conceal the whimpering tone                                                           

"Tell my slavers to handle the transaction...and Carlos?" Anton replied letting his voice trail off

"Yes my lord?" Carlos asked

"Have that useless mage executed...and then summon another exorcist...my boys cries are growing louder with each passing day...." he said turning his chair to face the window

Fleeing debtors...twisted children and an aging Witch to deal with...this was proving to be an infuriating day

"will that be all my lord?" Carlos asked nervously

"No...send word to the debt collector...i want that fleeing pauper dealt with...now..leave me!" Anton snapped with irritation filling his voice

The Seneschal left the room and Anton was alone again...there were problems to be dealth with...but dealt with they would be, that debtor whoever he was would soon have a rather unpleasant surprise...the thought of a loose end being removed...and the loose ends said fingers in all likelihood...filled Anton with a sudden feeling of relief...and he let out a smile like a shark pondering its next meal...

Modifié par westiex9, 03 octobre 2011 - 07:46 .

[westiex9]

Josielyn wrote...

Fun to read! Your descriptive language made it very easy to visualize the scenery. Just a question, do Antivan orphans use the word "bloody" or something else when they are cursing? Keep it up! We will enjoy reading about Mama's price for assistance.

Thanks JosieLyn! glad your liking it so far, im not sure whether Antivan's would use bloody tbh...though most of the ones in DAII and DAO do use spanish when cursing (hence the increased number of spanish terms in the third Chapter) from what ive read Maladicion (damn it!) is a pretty common curse word in Antiva. Stay tuned more to come..and the plot is going to thicken somewhat...so..a lot like a milkshake...a seedy...spanish... milkshake  

[westiex9]

Chapter 4: The Huntsman's Approach

The Inn was a crowded lower class affair, not quite the bottom of the social barrel but definatley nearing the boundary...smoke from pipes and the stink of mouldering wood filled the air as sailors,labourers and other far less savoury types  sat around tables making dubious conversation.

One table at the far back in particular was populated by three very shady characters who seemed to stick out like a nail through a mans finger.

The first man was tall and very well dressed, his extravagent clothing marking him as an aristocrat..even if the arrogant smirk,clean unmarked face and Orlesian Accent didn't give him away...he was a handsome sort...his hair was bright blonde and held together in a ponytail and his left ear bearing a solid gold ring. He had a rough face with stubble from lack of shaving and two sharp grey eyes that seemed to give a piercing aspect to his smirk, like a hawk waiting to swoop....

Next was a scabby looking elf whose head was covered by a tattered blue bandana, he was a hunched thing likely having spent too long in the bowels of a warship lifting heavy equipment. He seemed permanently alert...in fact his face seemed stuck in a permanent state of suspicion...his two pin like eyes poking out of a wrinkled and gaunt looking head..

Finally and standing out far more then his companions was a freakishly large man in black armour...not quite Qunari sized but as far as human men went a giant..his armour was a twisted series of metal straps with spikes protruding from them and his head was encased in a heavy steel helmet that seemed to exist as much to keep his head caged as to protect it. His arms were huge masses of corded muscle with blue sigil tattoos carved into the flesh...at his waist hung a belt with two fearsome imperial saw swords...and two shrunken heads.....

Into this room walked a hooded figure, a man who looked out of place in such a lower class setting, his clothing cleaner then even the Orlesian's and his sleight form vulnerable amongst the horde of brutish men who congregated in such an establishment. 

"I take it your here with instructions from Maethus?" The Orlesian said smirk visible as he locked his gaze with that of the messenger, he didn't get up or move his feet from the table...

"Yes Lord Agellion!" the man said, clearly afraid the Orlesian might reach for the saber hanging at his side 

The Orlesian let out a low and slightly mocking chuckle

"Just Corwin ces vous plais! the only people who still use my title tend to want me dead or imprisoned" the Orlesian said with a grin and a wave of the hand 

"Of course messere! Lord Maethus desire you to apprehend a debtor by the name of Alvarro Drathis, this man owes my lord a large sum of money..."the messenger answered nervously

Corwin sighed, he hated running maethus's little errands at the best of times...but sending the infamous pirate prince to deal with some debtor! this was an insult...pity Corwin owed maethus money...because he would have sorely loved to cut that pompous Antivan from throat to balls...

"I take it Maethus doesn't intend for us to look for the man with just his name...details man!" Corwin replied suddenly in a  less pleasant tone 

"Oh of course messere! he's an ex-smuggler...missing an arm and he frequents the slums on a regular basis...he also has ascosiations with mama...an apostate living in the slums..." the messenger replied jolted by Corwins sudden change in mood 

"And our payment?!" the scabby elf asked breaking his silence...his tone rasping as if he were a burn victim

"My lord is willing to pay a sum of fifty sovereigns for this mans capture" the messenger said...

Corwin felt a rage fill his chest...Fifty sovereigns!! Maethus was insulting him twice! Corwin knew he would have to play nice with the merchant prince...but he swore he would find a way of paying the noble back one day soon...

"Done...alive or dead?" Corwin said swallowing his anger 

"My lord wishes to make an example of this man...alive" the messenger replied 

"Very well, we'll apprehend the debtor and bring him to your lord shortly...you can go now" Corwin said with a dismissive wave of his hand...the messenger to his credit didn't start running till he got to the door...

Corwin slammed his fist on the table splintering wood and sending tankards tipping "Maird!!! that bastard has gone too far this time! first he makes me chase his debtors and then pays me a pittance for my troubles!!!" Corwin said in a rage filled voice 

"This would have never happened if someone hadn't insisted on getting a loan for an expedition to Seheron!" the scabby elf replied in a gruff voice 

"It seemed like a good idea at the time!" Corwin replied 

"And at the cost of an entire crew and our vessel...it turned out to be a bad one later!" the elf said irritably 

Corwin frowned "it wasn't all loss though...we did pick up our freind here" Corwin said with a sudden smirk 

"True...but given the massive debt we now have..id say our excursion was still a failure..."the elf replied 

Corwin rose from the table and headed for the bar...he intended to drink heavily tonight before they went hunting for this one armed smuggler. 

"We'll make that Antivan dog suffer for this snub!" Corwin muttered 

"And just how do you intend to do that?" the elf asked 

"Leave that to me Scrathe...ill think of something..." Corwin replied with a grim look 

"come on Bull hurry up" The elf called to the huge Tevinter who was still pouring ale into the holes in his helmet...

First Corwin would find this debtor...then he would think of a way to settle his debt with Maethus...

********************************************************

 



 

Modifié par westiex9, 13 octobre 2011 - 08:21 .

[kemz19691]

I enjoy reading your story - but why is Alvarro 42? he was 18 when he left and was gone 24 yrs - that's 42, right? He's able to stay alive this long? And jump out of a 2-story window on to hay without injury? I really enjoy reading your story!

Modifié par kemz19691, 20 janvier 2012 - 08:43 .

[kemz19691]

Okay. Where's Chapter 5+? I would like to finish if you have some additional work! Did you list it somewhere?

[westiex9]

kemz19691 wrote...

I enjoy reading your story - but why is Alvarro 42? he was 18 when he left and was gone 24 yrs - that's 42, right? He's able to stay alive this long? And jump out of a 2-story window on to hay without injury? I really enjoy reading your story!

Hi Kemz19691

Sorry about the delay with the story, work has eaten up a lot of time i usually spend on writing...ill try and add a new chapter soon

But to answer your questions...yep Alvarro is 42...no real significance there other then i wanted the character to have a bit of age on him when the story began...as for his survival without injury....well...thats part of why mama adopted him in the first place...the man has this almost freakish form of luck which seems to help him get out/into any number of situations.

[westiex9]

Chapter 5:Propositions and Ale

Alehouses...I love them...also living...the two activities go remarkably well together!

Or at least they usually do. But in my case no sooner have I arrived and ordered a drink then some well-dressed Orlesian claps his hand around my shoulder and yells

“You ****son! Bull gets the chains!”

Usually when someone mentions chains in antiva it means they want to experiment a little…guess one armed men aren’t on this year’s pervert wish list…because I’m assuming that the dandy his scabby elf and the giant steak in plate armour aren’t here to lost their inhibitions and wake up ashamed the next morning….

After all the excitement of my re-union with mama a trip to the ****s tongue seemed like a brilliant idea…id blow off some steam…drink copious amounts of cheap…and possibly toxic ale and then in a drunken stupor cobble together a plan…probably not a good one…but better than nothing. Right?

But of course a person like me can’t have a normal evening of relaxation…chance has intervened yet again…

You see maybe I’ve been absent from antiva city for a bit too long…but it seems like the place has gotten smaller…because for some reason my debt collectors are enjoying the same establishment as me….and my offer to buy them free drinks really isn’t going so well

It’s always the same with me wrong place…wrong time….

The barman doesn’t even look up from the glass he’s spit shining “we need to have a private word with your new guest!” the Orlesian says with a ruthless smile crossing his face…I don’t like where this is going…not when his friends holding a row of chain….

“Look Senor this isn’t some private torture den take this somewhere else” the barman says still not looking up from his grubby mug

The Orlesian slams a sovereign on the table…the barman raises one eyebrow and picks up the coin faster than a llomeryn **** picks up a disease in their intimates…and raising said coin to his teeth the scruffy barkeep bites it to check…and when it doesn’t split under duress from his orange crunchers….smiles back at the Orlesian

“Back room lads…close the door behind you…no one will bother you” he says sliding a key towards the Orlesian

“What about the screams?” the scabby elf mutters as I’m hauled off to the dark side room

“One moment Senor…Antonio you overpaid swine…play a louder tune!” the barkeep yells at the tired looking youth sitting on the stage playing a lazy ditty on his song


Immediately the music picks up and I’m led off to near certain death with inn music playing at full screech…I’m almost glad they will most likely kill me on reflection….

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They haul me into the side room and slam the door shut…then realise they can’t see a damn thing and start arguing

“Candles Scraithe!”

“What do I look like a night maid?”

“I don’t know I can’t see a maird stained thing!”

The two seemingly sentient men argue for a little longer before a light burns into being and banishes the darkness….the giant is holding a candle…it looks ridiculous…that tiny thing in his big hands…I struggle not to laugh…

The two men turn and give the giant…bull I think his name was a perplexed look…I’m not sure if the giant is looking back with the same look…his helmet hides his face…and he just shrugs his shoulders at their expressions.

“okay stumpy we don’t like this anymore then you do…but the man you owe one hundred sovereigns to is not the sort you want to delay paying…and you well and truly took your time” the Orlesian mutters staring at me with a serious look on his face

“You don’t like this job? Why not…don’t underworld lackeys get decent work perks these days?”  I reply unable to resist…hey I can but try to worm my way out of this can’t I?

The orlesian takes offence at this and throws a knife at my…narrowly missing my head and slamming into the wall behind me….he glares at me his eyes filled with a sudden sting of rage

“I AM CORWIN AGELLION, PIRATE PRINCE! AND I AM NO ONES LACKEY!!!” he yells spittle flying at me in a shower as he does so

So that’s who my hunter is! How do I know about Corwin Agellion? I used to be a smuggler…and you have to know who’s who and more importantly who is likely to steal from you if you don’t pay them a small fee…Corwin Agellion rogue prince of pirates…the scoundrel of the seas is throwing knives at me…I feel so important right now….but more importantly…I know my adversary…

Corwin Agellion was the pirate prince of the high seas…but then he tried to lead an expedition to distant Seheron…didn’t end too well…something about Qunari and local tribes killing off the entire crew save three and burning the vessel they travelled on…worse still the expedition was being funded by none other than my not too secret admirer…the one who sends armoured thugs to my door…you guessed it! Anton Maethus!

“Did I…hit a nerve!? Seems to me a pirate prince should have a ship and be out you know…committing wanton acts of piracy…” I reply digging my words into the wound I’ve just opened

Corwin seems angered by this but also intrigued by were I’m going…good I’ve got his attention…

“Cor we could always cut his tongue out…maybe even dry it out and add it to my colle-“ Scraithe says only to be cut off by Corwin’s raised hand

“What are you implying!?” Corwin says eyes stone cold in their seriousness

Time for the sales pitch

“Seems to me we have a mutual problem…we’re both in deep debt…I don’t have my life and you…don’t have your ship “I say putting emphasis on the last word

Corwin raises a quizzical eyebrow and then drops it his serious expression returning “you have one chance to explain yourself…I don’t like what you say and I haul you straight to Maethus” he says…sounds like I’ve baited my fish

 “You don’t have a ship…but Maethus does…” I say with a grin covering my face as it sinks in on his side of the conversation

“You want us to help you get rid of Maethus!? Are you mad! The man owns a private army!!!” Scraith yells voicing his opposition to my proposal

“a private army that won’t suspect a thing and trust me…I know how to keep them busy…you help me and Maethus will be all yours…and once he’s dead we can all take what we want and go our separate ways” I say hoping now that Corwin’s pride is enough of a temptation to drag him into my scheme

He sighs leans against the wall, he’s thinking it over and weighing up the possible consequences…but I know a pirate when I see one…he won’t be able to resist a chance at regaining his freedom…he hates being in debt and he hates being leashed and used as a merchant princes personal attack dog more still.

“Tempting…and you say you know how to stop us all being butchered by the Ravens?” Corwin asks nearly got him

“You can’t be serious Corwin!” Scraith replies in a shocked tone

“I think I can Scraith and more then that I think it’s time we stopped being told what we can and can’t do…we are meant to be at sea…we’re pirates for Maker’s sake! I’m tired of being leashed…it’s not right! Let’s hear the rest of what stumpy here has to say…if it doesn’t pan out we’ll just turn him in!” Corwin says almost won over

Scraith sighs and nods clearly too amazed this conversation is even happening to argue any longer, I grin and continue

“I know a way to distract maethus’s guards…and trust me once maethus is dead his entire organization will collapse…I just need you to play along smuggle me into his palace and then…well I release his son…and all horror breaks loose!” I say with a knowing look on my face

Corwin grins suddenly…he likes a challenge after all and breaking into an underworld gang lords mansion and killing him while I create a diversion straight from the fade has clearly struck the right cord with him.

“okay stumpy…but If I don’t like the way things are going you’re a dead man and if this diversion fails and Maethus has us all killed…ill come for you before he gets me…understood” he says grim expression filling his eyes


I nod and realize I’ve just talked a man into siding with me in the face of certain death…id buy myself another ale at the bar…but for all I know Maethus probably drinks here too!

“Oh and one more thing…this ship…is it big?” Corwin asks

I chuckle remembering the sight of the carrion bird in port…a sleek monster of a vessel that could outrun even the fastest navy galley “oh its big Corwin..of that you can be sure “I say knowing I’ve just saved myself from a lot of pain

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The barman does not look up at first…he prefers to pretend he’s cleaning glasses…throws the people who frequent the place off guard and they assume he’s not watching….assume he’s not compiling reams of gossip and intrigue for bored adventurers to hear later…

But as he hears footsteps and raises a quick glance to see the four men using his side room emerging…the one who had been in chains now seemingly walking as one of their own…he had to wonder what kind of gossip he was viewing…

The orlesian placed the key on the bar and muttered thanks as he left…the barman waiting until he was out of hearing distance and then took the key back…he wondered what the chains had been for since there was no sign of violence on the one armed man’s body…the thought was not a pretty one…especially when it involved the armoured man whose faces was hidden

“Orlesians!” the Barman muttered shaking his head in disgust

 
 

Modifié par westiex9, 28 janvier 2012 - 03:57 .