The Chronicle of Burne, and Some Others of Lesser Importance *Updated May 17th, 2009*
- Thread starter Rolzup
- Start date
Rolzup
First Post
Well, obviously The Very Best of Intentions wasn't enough to make me capable of updating regularly. Real life interfered, yatta yatta, whine whine, complain complain.
In short, I'll be aiming for AT LEAST one update a week from here on out, assuming that things stay pretty stable. Which they should.
And so, let us return to where we left out intrepid heroes...about to burn down a brothel.
*****
Edouard's Exit
You wouldn't think, if you'd seen him with his sword in hand, that the Pretty Man had such a way with words. It struck me again, listenin' to him talk Elsepth into surrenderin' to us...and then into givin' up her immoral lifestyle and leavin' town forever.
She needed to cover her tracks, mind. So mum's the word, you lot! Any of you spread this about, you'll have Duchess to answer to! Any of you want that?
No?
Thought not.
Now, Elspeth bein' a practical sort of lady, she had some kind of nasty elixir that would do a nice job of burnin' the Maison flat. Conflammatory somethin' or other. Real effective, whatever it was -- place was a bloody inferno in no time flat, so it was. Ever seen stone burn? Looks pretty, actually...sorta bluish-purple flames.
We had a few minutes to do some...ah...shoppin' first, you understand. Found me a real nice paintin' of a boat, and it'll look a treat over me mantle. Not much else worth takin' home, really. Not for a man of taste, like meself. Half of the pictures were of boats and such, and the other half were half-naked men...dressed kinda like the Pretty Man, actually...with half naked boys. Elspeth, she had some peculiar tastes
Now, of course we took the girl with us. Most of the others had already fled, and I hope that they found somewhere better to flee to. Kinda doubt it, really, but nothin' wrong with hope.
Joachim took charge of Calliope, and it was a damned good thing. He needed somethin' to focus on, take his mind off the night that had just passed and the madmen that he'd spent it with. With Joachim leadin' her by the hand, I led 'em all back into the sewers, so we could make some distance from the Maison without bein' seen.
The girl was chatterin' away all the while, and I won't deny that it was a good thing to hear. Didn't seem as badly off as I would've thought; guess ol' "Magic Wand" really did do her some good.
I kept my distance, I did. Kept far enough in front of 'em that they could see me, but not so close that I could hear what they were talkin' about. I'd had my fill of them. More than my fill, truth be told. I wanted to see them well on their way, so I could back to honest, simple rat-catching.
Said my farewells once I'd found a safe enough place to return to the surface, and maybe they even said some in return. Don't much matter; I know better than to expect manners from the likes of the Four Crazy Bastards....
In short, I'll be aiming for AT LEAST one update a week from here on out, assuming that things stay pretty stable. Which they should.
And so, let us return to where we left out intrepid heroes...about to burn down a brothel.
*****
Edouard's Exit
You wouldn't think, if you'd seen him with his sword in hand, that the Pretty Man had such a way with words. It struck me again, listenin' to him talk Elsepth into surrenderin' to us...and then into givin' up her immoral lifestyle and leavin' town forever.
She needed to cover her tracks, mind. So mum's the word, you lot! Any of you spread this about, you'll have Duchess to answer to! Any of you want that?
No?
Thought not.
Now, Elspeth bein' a practical sort of lady, she had some kind of nasty elixir that would do a nice job of burnin' the Maison flat. Conflammatory somethin' or other. Real effective, whatever it was -- place was a bloody inferno in no time flat, so it was. Ever seen stone burn? Looks pretty, actually...sorta bluish-purple flames.
We had a few minutes to do some...ah...shoppin' first, you understand. Found me a real nice paintin' of a boat, and it'll look a treat over me mantle. Not much else worth takin' home, really. Not for a man of taste, like meself. Half of the pictures were of boats and such, and the other half were half-naked men...dressed kinda like the Pretty Man, actually...with half naked boys. Elspeth, she had some peculiar tastes
Now, of course we took the girl with us. Most of the others had already fled, and I hope that they found somewhere better to flee to. Kinda doubt it, really, but nothin' wrong with hope.
Joachim took charge of Calliope, and it was a damned good thing. He needed somethin' to focus on, take his mind off the night that had just passed and the madmen that he'd spent it with. With Joachim leadin' her by the hand, I led 'em all back into the sewers, so we could make some distance from the Maison without bein' seen.
The girl was chatterin' away all the while, and I won't deny that it was a good thing to hear. Didn't seem as badly off as I would've thought; guess ol' "Magic Wand" really did do her some good.
I kept my distance, I did. Kept far enough in front of 'em that they could see me, but not so close that I could hear what they were talkin' about. I'd had my fill of them. More than my fill, truth be told. I wanted to see them well on their way, so I could back to honest, simple rat-catching.
Said my farewells once I'd found a safe enough place to return to the surface, and maybe they even said some in return. Don't much matter; I know better than to expect manners from the likes of the Four Crazy Bastards....
Rolzup
First Post
Edouard sighed as he finished his drink. He added his glass to the tower that had formed upon the bar, and shook his head a little sadly.
"And that's that, friends. That's how I met the Four Crazy Bastards, and actually lived to tell about it. And if I'm very, very lucky? I'll never see any of them again."
The Pig and Pterodon was silent, save for the faintly horrifying sound of Duchess slurping her drink.
"Damn," Gerard ventured at last. "Gods damn, Edouard! That's...you...they...well, how the bloody hells are people like that allowed to walk the streets, eh? We've got ourselves a civilized society, don't we?"
The ratcatcher snorted. "Civilized? Depends on your definition, dunnit? And why do 'they', whoever they hells 'they' are, let the bastards do as they do? I'll answer that with a question of me own, friend.
"Who's gonna stop 'em?"
He looked from face to face, each subject of his gaze glancing away in turn. Gerard, mumbling something, lost himself in polishing a glass.
"Who's gonna stop 'em?" Edouard repeated softly. "Not I. I like me head attached, and me heart still beatin'. "And do you think the Gondoliers will do it? Not bloody likely, not so long as they keep killin' scum like Fancy. If not them, who else? You think the Knights Exemplar will come riding out of Eris to stop them? Not bloody likely. Even if they did, the Bloody Archer'd just stand there shooting, probably take a lance right in the mouth and start picking his teeth with it. And the Pretty Man'd just leap a full fifteen hands over the horse and knock the knight's head into the gutter. One by one they'd go down.
"Who else? The Society of Friends? Only if the Four Crazy Bastards start running slaves. And they aren't the type. Quite the opposite, really. Maybe the CITY Watch? Ah, watch yerself Gerard. You snort in one person's tankard and pretty soon everyone be wantin' sometin' extra. How about the Priest-Kings of Hannikum, maybe they'll come and pray 'em to death. Or stab 'em with their glass knives. Either way, I'd still bet on the Bastards, though.
"Maybe the Lovesworn will find them all wives. Soothe the savage beasts, eh? But maybe they already got wives. Scary thought, eh? And some whelps, too. There's sometin' to keep a workin' man up at night. You can almost picture the schoolyard full of bullies with their heads cut off and bodies all apierced with little arrows."
He paused, shaking his head blearily. "And if a few innocents get caught in the crossfire, well? Who's going to care if the likes of me, or Gerard, or Chattelsworth there, get ourselves killed, eh?
"Nobody, that's bloody who."
"But they didn't," offered the Rukh tentatively. "Kill anybody they shouldn't, I mean. Did they? Sounded to me like everyone who died f-----g well deserved it, you ask me."
Edouard shrugged. "Maybe so, maybe so. Maybe all those fellows the Pretty Man sliced up in the back room of the Dancehall deserved to die. They struck the first blow, sure as sure. And maybe they didn't. Maybe they were just tryin' to defend a...a lady, of sorts, from a crazy bastard with a sword.
"Ain't my question to answer, I'll admit. But I'll tell you this much...do I think that the Pretty Man would have hesitated to cut me down, if I'd tried to stop him?"
He snapped his fingers, causing Duchess to look up sharply. "No, sir, he wouldn't have. Not for one second. I've looked into his eyes, friends.
"It wasn't anything human that looked back. It was death, plain as plain."
Swaying slightly, Edouard pushed himself to his feet. "Come along, Duchess," he said gently. With a snort, the rat dropped to the floor and shook herself. "I'm to bed," the ratcatcher murmured, not speaking to anyone in particular. "Been a long damned night, so it has."
With a tip of his hat, he turned on his heel. Light spilled into the bar for a moment, before the door swung shut behind them.
"Gods damn," Gerard said again, quietly.
"And that's that, friends. That's how I met the Four Crazy Bastards, and actually lived to tell about it. And if I'm very, very lucky? I'll never see any of them again."
The Pig and Pterodon was silent, save for the faintly horrifying sound of Duchess slurping her drink.
"Damn," Gerard ventured at last. "Gods damn, Edouard! That's...you...they...well, how the bloody hells are people like that allowed to walk the streets, eh? We've got ourselves a civilized society, don't we?"
The ratcatcher snorted. "Civilized? Depends on your definition, dunnit? And why do 'they', whoever they hells 'they' are, let the bastards do as they do? I'll answer that with a question of me own, friend.
"Who's gonna stop 'em?"
He looked from face to face, each subject of his gaze glancing away in turn. Gerard, mumbling something, lost himself in polishing a glass.
"Who's gonna stop 'em?" Edouard repeated softly. "Not I. I like me head attached, and me heart still beatin'. "And do you think the Gondoliers will do it? Not bloody likely, not so long as they keep killin' scum like Fancy. If not them, who else? You think the Knights Exemplar will come riding out of Eris to stop them? Not bloody likely. Even if they did, the Bloody Archer'd just stand there shooting, probably take a lance right in the mouth and start picking his teeth with it. And the Pretty Man'd just leap a full fifteen hands over the horse and knock the knight's head into the gutter. One by one they'd go down.
"Who else? The Society of Friends? Only if the Four Crazy Bastards start running slaves. And they aren't the type. Quite the opposite, really. Maybe the CITY Watch? Ah, watch yerself Gerard. You snort in one person's tankard and pretty soon everyone be wantin' sometin' extra. How about the Priest-Kings of Hannikum, maybe they'll come and pray 'em to death. Or stab 'em with their glass knives. Either way, I'd still bet on the Bastards, though.
"Maybe the Lovesworn will find them all wives. Soothe the savage beasts, eh? But maybe they already got wives. Scary thought, eh? And some whelps, too. There's sometin' to keep a workin' man up at night. You can almost picture the schoolyard full of bullies with their heads cut off and bodies all apierced with little arrows."
He paused, shaking his head blearily. "And if a few innocents get caught in the crossfire, well? Who's going to care if the likes of me, or Gerard, or Chattelsworth there, get ourselves killed, eh?
"Nobody, that's bloody who."
"But they didn't," offered the Rukh tentatively. "Kill anybody they shouldn't, I mean. Did they? Sounded to me like everyone who died f-----g well deserved it, you ask me."
Edouard shrugged. "Maybe so, maybe so. Maybe all those fellows the Pretty Man sliced up in the back room of the Dancehall deserved to die. They struck the first blow, sure as sure. And maybe they didn't. Maybe they were just tryin' to defend a...a lady, of sorts, from a crazy bastard with a sword.
"Ain't my question to answer, I'll admit. But I'll tell you this much...do I think that the Pretty Man would have hesitated to cut me down, if I'd tried to stop him?"
He snapped his fingers, causing Duchess to look up sharply. "No, sir, he wouldn't have. Not for one second. I've looked into his eyes, friends.
"It wasn't anything human that looked back. It was death, plain as plain."
Swaying slightly, Edouard pushed himself to his feet. "Come along, Duchess," he said gently. With a snort, the rat dropped to the floor and shook herself. "I'm to bed," the ratcatcher murmured, not speaking to anyone in particular. "Been a long damned night, so it has."
With a tip of his hat, he turned on his heel. Light spilled into the bar for a moment, before the door swung shut behind them.
"Gods damn," Gerard said again, quietly.
HalfOrc HalfBiscuit
Adventurer
Good to see you back in the saddle, Rolzup. Keep 'em coming ... 
Richard Rawen
First Post
That was such a cool way to tell the tale of the adventure, loved it!
