talien
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Death in Freeport - Part 4c: The Bloody Vengeance
Kham padded into the officer’s quarters. He had already searched aft castle, only to discover the crew slept there instead of the captain. Being in the front of the boat, even a galleon, meant it would rock like crazy during choppy waters. Not usually the place the Captain of a ship would choose to sleep. Kham attributed the strange bedding arrangements to orcs being complete morons.
The cabin beneath the forecastle was small and cramped. There were two beds, a table, and a chest large enough to hold a person. In one of the beds, covered by a sheet, was a very large figure. His chest rose rhtymically to titanic snoring. Two massive orc feet protruded from the edge of the bed, tipped with ugly yellow toenails.
“I hope you’re not in there, Lucius,” thought Kham to himself. “Because that means you’re probably dead.”
He leaned close to the chest to listen to it. It was covered with sea charts and navigational equipment. A large iron lock was clearly visible.
Kham pulled his trusty dagger from his jacket. With a twist, he turned the hilt and lock picks sprung out. After feeling each of the picks, Kham decided on one and inserted it into the lock.
There was a soft click. “Piece of cake,” Kham though to himself.
Then his left arm went numb. Something had pinched the top of his hand while he was fiddling with the lock.
Poison! Kham knew he had to work fast. He put the dagger back in his overcoat and slowly lifted the lid. It was heavy, heavy enough that he had to strain to keep it from slamming open and dumping everything on top of it to the floor.
There was a low, rolling sound. An Altherian compass, undoubtedly taken off the body of an Altherian captain, wobbled its way across the lid…
Kham snapped his right hand out to catch the compass just as it would have hit the deck. His left arm was still tingling.
There was a five-foot long staff inside. It lay atop a pile of Imperials. Keeping the chest propped open with his shoulder, Kham reached in and gently pulled it out.
The staff was carved with a scale motif. Kham didn’t take time to inspect it. It looked important, and that was enough for him.
He made his way to the porthole and slowly, carefully opened it. Amazingly, it didn’t squeak.
Kham paused. Leaving the chest unlocked would definitely arouse suspicion. He wanted to be long gone by the time the orcs figured out they had lost the staff.
We padded back to the chest. Checking himself, he carefully placed the compass back on the lid. He turned away…
And turned back. They would surely notice the padlock unlocked. But his arm was tingling worse than before. The sensation had traveled all the way up to his shoulder.
It was simple. He could do it easily with his right hand. All he had to do was lock the padlock back together.
“Piece of…”
CLICK.
The figure under the covers sat bolt upright. “RUH?!”
Kham threw the staff through the porthole.
The gigantic orc’s bleary eyes focused on Kham. “What the…?”
“Guess the potion wore off,” said Kham. He kept his head tucked tightly between his extended arms and dove out the porthole.
Kham padded into the officer’s quarters. He had already searched aft castle, only to discover the crew slept there instead of the captain. Being in the front of the boat, even a galleon, meant it would rock like crazy during choppy waters. Not usually the place the Captain of a ship would choose to sleep. Kham attributed the strange bedding arrangements to orcs being complete morons.
The cabin beneath the forecastle was small and cramped. There were two beds, a table, and a chest large enough to hold a person. In one of the beds, covered by a sheet, was a very large figure. His chest rose rhtymically to titanic snoring. Two massive orc feet protruded from the edge of the bed, tipped with ugly yellow toenails.
“I hope you’re not in there, Lucius,” thought Kham to himself. “Because that means you’re probably dead.”
He leaned close to the chest to listen to it. It was covered with sea charts and navigational equipment. A large iron lock was clearly visible.
Kham pulled his trusty dagger from his jacket. With a twist, he turned the hilt and lock picks sprung out. After feeling each of the picks, Kham decided on one and inserted it into the lock.
There was a soft click. “Piece of cake,” Kham though to himself.
Then his left arm went numb. Something had pinched the top of his hand while he was fiddling with the lock.
Poison! Kham knew he had to work fast. He put the dagger back in his overcoat and slowly lifted the lid. It was heavy, heavy enough that he had to strain to keep it from slamming open and dumping everything on top of it to the floor.
There was a low, rolling sound. An Altherian compass, undoubtedly taken off the body of an Altherian captain, wobbled its way across the lid…
Kham snapped his right hand out to catch the compass just as it would have hit the deck. His left arm was still tingling.
There was a five-foot long staff inside. It lay atop a pile of Imperials. Keeping the chest propped open with his shoulder, Kham reached in and gently pulled it out.
The staff was carved with a scale motif. Kham didn’t take time to inspect it. It looked important, and that was enough for him.
He made his way to the porthole and slowly, carefully opened it. Amazingly, it didn’t squeak.
Kham paused. Leaving the chest unlocked would definitely arouse suspicion. He wanted to be long gone by the time the orcs figured out they had lost the staff.
We padded back to the chest. Checking himself, he carefully placed the compass back on the lid. He turned away…
And turned back. They would surely notice the padlock unlocked. But his arm was tingling worse than before. The sensation had traveled all the way up to his shoulder.
It was simple. He could do it easily with his right hand. All he had to do was lock the padlock back together.
“Piece of…”
CLICK.
The figure under the covers sat bolt upright. “RUH?!”
Kham threw the staff through the porthole.
The gigantic orc’s bleary eyes focused on Kham. “What the…?”
“Guess the potion wore off,” said Kham. He kept his head tucked tightly between his extended arms and dove out the porthole.