theredrobedwizard
Explorer
Hello all. I figured I'd give this storyhour thing another go, hopefully I'll get more response than my last attempt.
I'm still not sure about the writing style I've chosen; I might go back and rewrite it in a more third person style. Leave feedback if'n you want.
Without further ado, the Journal of Aratradeon Nydal.
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To any who read this, know that if this notebook has fallen into your hands it means that I am either dead or world famous. I know not which at this early stage of writing, but I sincerely hope for the latter. I begin to write this journal on the first night of my being shipwrecked on the Isle of Dread. My ship, the Sea Wyvern, struck a reef just off the coast of this forsaken Isle. I hope some day to retrieve it, but that day may never come.
Where are my manners? My name is Captain Aratradeon Nydal, but everyone calls me Trade. I'm the son of a prostitute and a nobleman; part elf, part human, part demon, part fey. I'm not sure which part holds the most sway, but that's a tale for another time. I guess I should start at the beginning, as it's moderately rude of me to pick things up here, in the middle (or possibly the end, if this Isle has its wish). My story begins five months ago, in the city of Sasserine.
It was raining the day I came to captain the Blue Nixie. I only remember this because the city watch said that the rain had only helped to spread the fire that claimed the life of my employers and my commander. I was sleeping below decks, the only crewman left onboard the Blue Nixie; the rest of the crew had been reassigned to my employer's new ship, the Farshore Envoy, so that the nobles could take a relaxing cruise down the coast. I awoke with a start as an explosion rocked the ship. I ran up to the deck and gazed upon a horrifying sight.
There, across the harbor, the Farshore Envoy was in flames. Fire and smoke billowed from the ship, engulfing everyone on deck. I dove into the water, hoping I could swim out to the Envoy and possibly rescue some of the passengers before they were all incinerated. When I was but a scant 100 feet from the ship, it exploded again, this time erupting into a ball of fire, leaving nothing but smoldering wreckage slowly sinking beneath the waves. I made my way back to the Nixie and stood on the deck, watching the flaming hull finally fall beneath the waves.
I received word the very next day from my employers' son, a charming young lad named Vanthus, that I was to be the new captain of the Nixie. I was to ready the ship to leave in a week for an extended journey. I took to the streets, looking for a crew, but none was to be found. The Vanderborens, and by extension their ship, was considered cursed; no one would help me crew my new command.
Unhappy at this development, I went to drown my sorrows in wine and women at one of the seedier taverns in Shadowshore. I drank, ate, and was merry; eventually taking a pair of fine young lasses up to my newly rented room. Their names were Rowyn and Brissa; one an artist, the other a noble. That was one wild night. The next morning, I awoke with a start, a rapier's blade at my throat. I looked down its length and there stood my employer, Vanthus Vanderboren. Turns out that he was involved with both of the young ladies with whom I'd so recently shared my bed. Needless to say, I was no longer Captain of the Blue Nixie.
I used my silver tongue to talk my way into a free stay at the Shipwright's Guildhall; my skill at shipbuilding not withstanding. Hours turned into days, and days into nearly a fortnight. After the tedium of hewing out rowboats for two weeks, I was pleasantly surprised to hear an old woman's voice calling out my name.
She introduced herself as Kora Whistlegap, the Vanderboren's house-halfling or somesuch nonsense. She handed me a letter and stood patiently in front of me, apparently awaiting a reply. Attached below is the actual letter; I've saved it this whole time.
"Greetings, and I trust this missive finds you in good health! My name is Lavinia Vanderboren, and I humbly request your attendance at a dinner at my estate on Festival Street and Blue Skink Lane. I think that I can present you with an opportunity uniquely suited to your skills. Please inform the carrier of this letter of your response to this invitation, and I hope to be speaking to you soon!" - Lavinia
I told Kora that I was interested in her mistress's invitation, gladly accepting. The halfling matron smiled broadly and headed off. She ducked her head back in to say that the meeting was tonight at sunset before hurrying off again. What a strange woman she was.
That night, I put on my best looking sailor's outfit, complete with long black oilskin jacket and tricorner hat. I walked to Vanderboren Manor, made my way through the gate, and knocked on the large double doors. Kora answered and beckoned me inside. The entry hall of the manorhouse was grand, large painting of exotic locales adorned the walls; though there was a conspicuous place where a painting apparently hung until recently. I followed Kora through to the dining hall, where a beautiful woman sat flanked by two gruff looking adventurer types. One, a dwarf whom I later learned was called Morak, carried an axe nearly as large as he was. The other, some sort of dragonman called Zarek, seemed to be on the defensive; even while sitting at a social dinner.
'Ah, Aratradeon, please, have a seat,' the lady said to me as she gestured towards a seat. I obliged, and she began to fill me in on events that had already transpired. She informed me that the Nixie had be impounded by the Harbormaster until back taxes were paid. Lavinia needed something from aboard the ship to get to her family's money, she she hired some adventurers to retrieve it. Morak, Zarek, and three of their friends had snuck aboard the Blue Nixie yesterday and retrieved a lost piece of jewelry. One of their friends, a gnome named Rezzo, had been killed by a large insectoid creature that'd been smuggled aboard the ship as a guard beast. The Crushers, as Morak informed me they were called, had been victorious that day, returning their prize to Lavinia. No sooner had they arrived, Lavinia had another misson for them; infiltrate the family's vault and secure the family fortune. They had done so admirably.
Now, Lavinia informed me, came the tricky part. In order to legally claim their family fortune (so as to not be a common criminal) she had to have a meeting with the Dawn Council. Problem was, both surviving members of the Vanderboren Family had to be present for the matter to be official. Vanthus, her older brother, was nowhere to be found. I smiled and chuckled quietly to myself when she mentioned his name. I quickly dismissed any suspicion by informing her that I had a good idea where Vanthus's usual hangouts were.
Before I go any further with this part of the story, I've got some things that need to be said. First off, I never knew my father; at least, not really. My mother always said he was a nobleman, but never did say which of the many of Sasserine's Noble Families he came from. This question had plagued me for some time, up until two months ago. My mother lay dying in her house while I was at sea, trying to make enough money to pay for her medicines and the like. As soon as the Nixie touched the dock, I sprinted to the apothecary to buy some herbal remedies and such. I sprinted to her house, but found myself to be too late. She lay dead in her bed, the rotting sickness finally exacting its toll. Clutched in her hands was a short note in shaky handwriting.
"Aratradeon, I love you. I know you did all you could to save me, but it wasn't enough. I'm sorry that I never told you who your father was. The truth is, I'm not sure myself. I had two regular clients at around the time you were conceived; Verik Vanderboren and Keltar Islaran. I hope you find some solace in this knowledge."
I cried for a long time that night. I spent the next months saving up enough money for a diviner; so that I might know which of the two men was my father. Finally, I found my answer. It turns out that Vanthus wasn't the oldest of the Vanderboren children anymore.
I kept this information from everyone for some time. When I finally told Lavinia, she thought I was only after her money. I reminded her that I had, until recently, had access to every copper piece in her family vault, and I didn't take any of it. She still doesn't trust me, and probably trusts me even less after I crashed half her expedition on a reef. Oh well, we'll see how that pans out.
Meanwhile, after a meal, I told my new friends that I'd hit the town in search of any clues regarding Vanthus and would meet up with them outside the Arena in the morning. Apparently, both of these men lived there; I was unaware they let people sleep in the stands, but I digress.
After many hours of searching, I found a street urchin would said he'd seen Vanthus and a man named Penkus rowing a boat out towards Parrot Island. The boy said he'd come with us to show us which way the two had gone. I told him where to meet us, and then I went off to procure a rowboat.
It turns out the rowboats cost money, but nothing that a well placed threat of violence can't help solve. I got the boat for a gold, less than a 10th the asking price. I hid the boat under a dock and slept until dawn. I headed over to the arena, picked up Morak, Zarek, and the urchin. The four of us headed to Parrot Island.
The beach proved more hazardous than I'd anticipated; giant crabs and lobstrocities attacked us several times before we reached safety. Finally, we reached a clearing where a poorly hidden hatch was found. Morak lifted the heavy stone and headed down into the darkness. Zarek followed, and I followed them. My ears perked up as I heard the rope come loose and fall into a pile on the ground. Seconds later I heard the sound of flesh and bone being cut. The body of our guide fell to the ground with an unceremonious *thunk*. Looking up, I saw the face of Vanthus staring down at us.
'Serves you right for helping my whore of a sister! Say hi to Penkus's ghost for me while you're down there,' he cried down to us.
'Your girlfriends give terrible coif,' I called back, mockingly.
He replied by slamming the hatch closed, trapping us in the dark.
Then, the disconcerting moaning started in the distance, shambling slowly towards us.
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-TRRW
I'm still not sure about the writing style I've chosen; I might go back and rewrite it in a more third person style. Leave feedback if'n you want.
Without further ado, the Journal of Aratradeon Nydal.
----------
To any who read this, know that if this notebook has fallen into your hands it means that I am either dead or world famous. I know not which at this early stage of writing, but I sincerely hope for the latter. I begin to write this journal on the first night of my being shipwrecked on the Isle of Dread. My ship, the Sea Wyvern, struck a reef just off the coast of this forsaken Isle. I hope some day to retrieve it, but that day may never come.
Where are my manners? My name is Captain Aratradeon Nydal, but everyone calls me Trade. I'm the son of a prostitute and a nobleman; part elf, part human, part demon, part fey. I'm not sure which part holds the most sway, but that's a tale for another time. I guess I should start at the beginning, as it's moderately rude of me to pick things up here, in the middle (or possibly the end, if this Isle has its wish). My story begins five months ago, in the city of Sasserine.
Chapter One: Exploded.
It was raining the day I came to captain the Blue Nixie. I only remember this because the city watch said that the rain had only helped to spread the fire that claimed the life of my employers and my commander. I was sleeping below decks, the only crewman left onboard the Blue Nixie; the rest of the crew had been reassigned to my employer's new ship, the Farshore Envoy, so that the nobles could take a relaxing cruise down the coast. I awoke with a start as an explosion rocked the ship. I ran up to the deck and gazed upon a horrifying sight.
There, across the harbor, the Farshore Envoy was in flames. Fire and smoke billowed from the ship, engulfing everyone on deck. I dove into the water, hoping I could swim out to the Envoy and possibly rescue some of the passengers before they were all incinerated. When I was but a scant 100 feet from the ship, it exploded again, this time erupting into a ball of fire, leaving nothing but smoldering wreckage slowly sinking beneath the waves. I made my way back to the Nixie and stood on the deck, watching the flaming hull finally fall beneath the waves.
I received word the very next day from my employers' son, a charming young lad named Vanthus, that I was to be the new captain of the Nixie. I was to ready the ship to leave in a week for an extended journey. I took to the streets, looking for a crew, but none was to be found. The Vanderborens, and by extension their ship, was considered cursed; no one would help me crew my new command.
Unhappy at this development, I went to drown my sorrows in wine and women at one of the seedier taverns in Shadowshore. I drank, ate, and was merry; eventually taking a pair of fine young lasses up to my newly rented room. Their names were Rowyn and Brissa; one an artist, the other a noble. That was one wild night. The next morning, I awoke with a start, a rapier's blade at my throat. I looked down its length and there stood my employer, Vanthus Vanderboren. Turns out that he was involved with both of the young ladies with whom I'd so recently shared my bed. Needless to say, I was no longer Captain of the Blue Nixie.
I used my silver tongue to talk my way into a free stay at the Shipwright's Guildhall; my skill at shipbuilding not withstanding. Hours turned into days, and days into nearly a fortnight. After the tedium of hewing out rowboats for two weeks, I was pleasantly surprised to hear an old woman's voice calling out my name.
She introduced herself as Kora Whistlegap, the Vanderboren's house-halfling or somesuch nonsense. She handed me a letter and stood patiently in front of me, apparently awaiting a reply. Attached below is the actual letter; I've saved it this whole time.
"Greetings, and I trust this missive finds you in good health! My name is Lavinia Vanderboren, and I humbly request your attendance at a dinner at my estate on Festival Street and Blue Skink Lane. I think that I can present you with an opportunity uniquely suited to your skills. Please inform the carrier of this letter of your response to this invitation, and I hope to be speaking to you soon!" - Lavinia
I told Kora that I was interested in her mistress's invitation, gladly accepting. The halfling matron smiled broadly and headed off. She ducked her head back in to say that the meeting was tonight at sunset before hurrying off again. What a strange woman she was.
That night, I put on my best looking sailor's outfit, complete with long black oilskin jacket and tricorner hat. I walked to Vanderboren Manor, made my way through the gate, and knocked on the large double doors. Kora answered and beckoned me inside. The entry hall of the manorhouse was grand, large painting of exotic locales adorned the walls; though there was a conspicuous place where a painting apparently hung until recently. I followed Kora through to the dining hall, where a beautiful woman sat flanked by two gruff looking adventurer types. One, a dwarf whom I later learned was called Morak, carried an axe nearly as large as he was. The other, some sort of dragonman called Zarek, seemed to be on the defensive; even while sitting at a social dinner.
'Ah, Aratradeon, please, have a seat,' the lady said to me as she gestured towards a seat. I obliged, and she began to fill me in on events that had already transpired. She informed me that the Nixie had be impounded by the Harbormaster until back taxes were paid. Lavinia needed something from aboard the ship to get to her family's money, she she hired some adventurers to retrieve it. Morak, Zarek, and three of their friends had snuck aboard the Blue Nixie yesterday and retrieved a lost piece of jewelry. One of their friends, a gnome named Rezzo, had been killed by a large insectoid creature that'd been smuggled aboard the ship as a guard beast. The Crushers, as Morak informed me they were called, had been victorious that day, returning their prize to Lavinia. No sooner had they arrived, Lavinia had another misson for them; infiltrate the family's vault and secure the family fortune. They had done so admirably.
Now, Lavinia informed me, came the tricky part. In order to legally claim their family fortune (so as to not be a common criminal) she had to have a meeting with the Dawn Council. Problem was, both surviving members of the Vanderboren Family had to be present for the matter to be official. Vanthus, her older brother, was nowhere to be found. I smiled and chuckled quietly to myself when she mentioned his name. I quickly dismissed any suspicion by informing her that I had a good idea where Vanthus's usual hangouts were.
Before I go any further with this part of the story, I've got some things that need to be said. First off, I never knew my father; at least, not really. My mother always said he was a nobleman, but never did say which of the many of Sasserine's Noble Families he came from. This question had plagued me for some time, up until two months ago. My mother lay dying in her house while I was at sea, trying to make enough money to pay for her medicines and the like. As soon as the Nixie touched the dock, I sprinted to the apothecary to buy some herbal remedies and such. I sprinted to her house, but found myself to be too late. She lay dead in her bed, the rotting sickness finally exacting its toll. Clutched in her hands was a short note in shaky handwriting.
"Aratradeon, I love you. I know you did all you could to save me, but it wasn't enough. I'm sorry that I never told you who your father was. The truth is, I'm not sure myself. I had two regular clients at around the time you were conceived; Verik Vanderboren and Keltar Islaran. I hope you find some solace in this knowledge."
I cried for a long time that night. I spent the next months saving up enough money for a diviner; so that I might know which of the two men was my father. Finally, I found my answer. It turns out that Vanthus wasn't the oldest of the Vanderboren children anymore.
I kept this information from everyone for some time. When I finally told Lavinia, she thought I was only after her money. I reminded her that I had, until recently, had access to every copper piece in her family vault, and I didn't take any of it. She still doesn't trust me, and probably trusts me even less after I crashed half her expedition on a reef. Oh well, we'll see how that pans out.
Meanwhile, after a meal, I told my new friends that I'd hit the town in search of any clues regarding Vanthus and would meet up with them outside the Arena in the morning. Apparently, both of these men lived there; I was unaware they let people sleep in the stands, but I digress.
After many hours of searching, I found a street urchin would said he'd seen Vanthus and a man named Penkus rowing a boat out towards Parrot Island. The boy said he'd come with us to show us which way the two had gone. I told him where to meet us, and then I went off to procure a rowboat.
It turns out the rowboats cost money, but nothing that a well placed threat of violence can't help solve. I got the boat for a gold, less than a 10th the asking price. I hid the boat under a dock and slept until dawn. I headed over to the arena, picked up Morak, Zarek, and the urchin. The four of us headed to Parrot Island.
The beach proved more hazardous than I'd anticipated; giant crabs and lobstrocities attacked us several times before we reached safety. Finally, we reached a clearing where a poorly hidden hatch was found. Morak lifted the heavy stone and headed down into the darkness. Zarek followed, and I followed them. My ears perked up as I heard the rope come loose and fall into a pile on the ground. Seconds later I heard the sound of flesh and bone being cut. The body of our guide fell to the ground with an unceremonious *thunk*. Looking up, I saw the face of Vanthus staring down at us.
'Serves you right for helping my whore of a sister! Say hi to Penkus's ghost for me while you're down there,' he cried down to us.
'Your girlfriends give terrible coif,' I called back, mockingly.
He replied by slamming the hatch closed, trapping us in the dark.
Then, the disconcerting moaning started in the distance, shambling slowly towards us.
----------
-TRRW
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