Post by Sir Haymar Glen on Sept 26, 2015 6:03:32 GMT -8
Hello all! Here is my Unrestricted entry for GCXI: Too Close for Comfort!
Note: This Moc/story introduces my Secondary Character, Lenfel spy Skyelia Murdale.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My name is Skyelia Murdale, (Skye for short), and today is probably the most important, and harrowing, of my whole life.
Why?
Because I am a spy for Lenfald.
And today I am in Dalmanutha, The capital of Loreos, our arch-rival, to meet with a Loreesi sympathetic to Lenfald.
The Loreesi, going by “Mr Jal” (a fake name, obviously), contacted me, saying he had vital information, and instructed me to meet him in Dalmanutha, at the tavern Desert Rat, (a fitting name, given the nature of our meeting) at noon exactly.
I had received tips and info from him many times, but never actually met him, so this was going to be rather interesting. Little did I know just how interesting, (and dangerous), this would be!
So here I was, four days later, disguised as a moderately wealthy Loreesi heiress, roaming the docks of Dalmanutha, looking for anything that would signify a tavern with the name I was looking for.
Although so far unsuccessful in that area, the trip had provided beneficial results, as my roaming had taken me all along Dalmanutha’s docks, giving me a detailed look at the fleet that Prince Hilarious was amassing for the “conquest” of the new islands.
I had been stopping periodically to jot down details of the spectacle before me in a small notebook I always carried, for about an hour and a half, when I noticed a smallish, old-looking building squished between two fancy shops. The sign hanging above the door was of a faded, poorly-rendered rat sitting in a patch of almost faded-off sand.
“Jackpot,” I muttered under my breath, and, putting away my notebook, opened the door and went inside.
Several heads turned to stare as I walked in, and almost immediately I realized a serious problem with my disguise. It was far too fancy for this dingy, dirty establishment, and consequently made me stand out far more than I would have liked. That was not a good thing for a spy.
Stepping inside, my mind racing, I quickly scanned the room before me, looking for my contact as well as getting the layout down. To my right was the bar, consisting of about half-a-dozen old barstools, a long, tall counter, and a large cabinet behind the bar, full of different types of alcohol. Directly in front of me was a modest-sized common room, with a dozen or so tables. Along the wall behind this was a row of booth tables, unbroken except for the worn stairwell at the far end. To my left was a fireplace and mantle.
Inhabiting the whole thing were about ten or twelve mean-looking sailors, and one bartender.
I was the only woman in the place.
That didn’t bother me however, as besides the razor-sharp dirk at my side, there were also about twenty different things around the room that I could turn into deadly weapons in the blink of an eye.
Completing my scan, my eyes alighted on a hooded figure sitting well back in the shadows of the furthermost booth from the door.
It was my contact, “Mr. Jal”.
He saw me and started to rise.
I made a show of rushing over to him, and throwing my arms around him as he did.
“Ah, there you are my love,” I said loudly, giving him an exaggerated kiss on the cheek.
Pulling back, I gave “Mr. Jal” a look that said, play along, hoping he would understand.
He did.
“Ah, my sweet, what took you so long?” He responded, as we broke apart and sat down in his booth.
I gave a flippant laugh. “Oh, I had to escape my betrothed. It took awhile.” I looked around casually. “He’ll never find us here though.”
We both then lowered our voices, like lovers conspiring together. As we did so, I looked at the room from the corner of my eye.
Our little show had the desired double effect. It served to explain why I was dressed so nice, yet coming into a dingy place like this, and, the other patrons were now going back to their drinks and conversations, no longer paying us any attention.
I got the feeling this was rather common.
Only now did I take a closer look at my contact.
Not much of him was visible under the hood he still wore, but I did catch a glimpse of fancy red clothes and a well-groomed goatee.
“That was very clever.” Mr. Jal said in a whisper.
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure it would work.” I said in an equally quiet tone.
“I’m very glad it did." The other responded.
I nodded. “On to other business. You said you had important information.” I made it a statement, not a question.
“I do,” Mr. Jal said, and then, raising his voice a bit, “I think we should order a drink first, however.”
I nodded my assent. It would be wise to keep up our charade.
—————————
Once the bartender had brought us a chipped tankard full of ale each, Mr. Jal passed me a sealed envelope under the table. I took it without comment and slipped it into a waterproof bag in my robes.
We sat for several minutes, sipping our ale and studying each other silently, wondering who each other really was, and where they been, what they’d done, etc.
I was about ninety percent sure “Mr. Jal”, was a textiles merchant, and not a poor one either, judging by the fact that what little of his clothes I could see were of a obviously high quality.
His real name, I had no clue about, but that didn’t really matter.
For his part, I was a complete mystery, of which he hadn’t the faintest clue about.
And that suited me just fine.
——————————————
Our tankards emptied, we rose and prepared to leave. We would walk out the door together, and then immediately go in different directions.
Walking out the door, I turned right, and Mr. Jal turned left. I began walking back the way I had come earlier with fast, confident strides, easily moving through the crowds.
I had gone about a hundred feet done the dock, when something compelled me to casually turn around and locate my contact. I did within seconds. He was not far from the tavern we had met in, taking in the crisp sea breeze blowing in the harbor. Stop being paranoid, I told myself, there’s nothing wrong with breathing the sea air.
I was about to turn away and continue walking, when all of a sudden Mr. Jal gave a cry, and pitched forward onto the cobbles, motionless.
Several people gasped and moved away from his body, giving me a better look, from which I instantly could tell he was dead.
Instincts screaming at me to get the heck out of here, I spun around…..and came face-to-face with two guards, armed with long, spear-sword combo weapons, scowling down at me.
“Eh, hi fellas. What’s wrong?” I asked, feigning innocence.
“You’re not fooling us, spy” the bigger one said.
I pretended to be shocked. “Spy?? Me?”
“Yeah, you,” the other one sneered, “There’s a ‘nice’ interrogation room waiting for you in the Prince’s dungeon, and I’m sure the Prince himself will want to talk to you, too.”
I held out my hand placatingly.
“Now hold on a minute gentlemen, I can explain everything.”
They both laughed. It wasn’t a friendly laugh.
“Oh, I’m sure the Prince will be thrilled to have you ex-.” He never got a chance to finish, as his weapon seemed to suddenly shoot into my outstretched hand, and I swung it viciously in the same smooth movement, taking both out with one motion.
“Sorry boys, got to go.” I said, and ran.
Behind me I heard someone shout, “Stop her! She’s a spy!!”
I didn’t stop to look, but I could here the tramp of armored boots coming after me.
Shoving shocked bystanders aside, I dashed along the docks, frantically looking for an escape route. There were people everywhere, not to mention far more guards then I would have liked.
Weaving around parked wagons, clusters of people and market stalls, I spotted a pair of Loreesi soldiers rushing at me from the side. As they reached me, I planted one foot firmly on the cobbles and pivoted in a half-circle, slamming the butt of the spear into the first soldier’s face, then, reversing my grip, I plunged the head into the second soldier’s back, before charging down the docks again, my pursuers hot on my tail.
Bolting into a open space in the crowd, I increased my pace, and thus widened my lead, though only by a little bit. People all around me yelled and cursed as I (and the guards pursuing me) breezed by them, sometimes knocking them out of the way, in our wild chase through the city docks.
Up ahead, I spotted a large crane, engaged in the process of loading a small warship pulled up alongside the dock. Aiming for this, I dodged around a pair of unwashed peasants and a mother and her son, eliciting a torrent of angry words directed at my fleeing back.
Rounding the crane’s large stone pedestal, I was confronted by a pair of startled guards who had been watching the ship. The first one never had time to lift his shield before I body-slammed him into the ground, and the second had barely any more warning than the first, for I cut him down before he even registered his companion’s demise.
A peasant was also slammed aside in the sudden tussle.
A third guard, behind the first two, and thus having advanced warning, blocked my first strike, and thrust his spear at my chest in a surprisingly fast reaction, but then his spear was suddenly and violently deflected away from me, seeming to the guard as if my left hand had somehow warded it away, before I swung my weapon down in a powerful arc, slicing through his flimsy tunic and cutting deep into his torso, where it stuck there.
I left the weapon in the guard, seeing as I wouldn’t be needing it any longer, and charged across the dock and onto the ship. As I ran across the bow, the captain stepped in front of me, one hand out to stop me.
“Hold on a minute there beatifu-.” He started to say, right before I shoulder-rammed him aside, and, reaching the far gunwale, dove off the ship in a shallow dive.
Plunging beneath the water, I allowed myself to sink to the bottom, before swimming underneath the ship, and silently surfacing under the dock, hidden from view by the hull of the ship.
Holding onto a dock piling, I brushed my now-wet shoulder-length blonde hair away from my eyes, and waited for my breathing to steady, and my heart to stop racing, while listening to the angry shouts of my would-be pursuers, venting their frustration at being unable to find me.
That, I thought, had been way too close for comfort.
——————————
Apologizes for the long story, I just got so caught up in (and was enjoying) the story, I forgot to look at how long it had gotten.
Hope you all like it anyway!
Note: This Moc/story introduces my Secondary Character, Lenfel spy Skyelia Murdale.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My name is Skyelia Murdale, (Skye for short), and today is probably the most important, and harrowing, of my whole life.
Why?
Because I am a spy for Lenfald.
And today I am in Dalmanutha, The capital of Loreos, our arch-rival, to meet with a Loreesi sympathetic to Lenfald.
The Loreesi, going by “Mr Jal” (a fake name, obviously), contacted me, saying he had vital information, and instructed me to meet him in Dalmanutha, at the tavern Desert Rat, (a fitting name, given the nature of our meeting) at noon exactly.
I had received tips and info from him many times, but never actually met him, so this was going to be rather interesting. Little did I know just how interesting, (and dangerous), this would be!
So here I was, four days later, disguised as a moderately wealthy Loreesi heiress, roaming the docks of Dalmanutha, looking for anything that would signify a tavern with the name I was looking for.
Although so far unsuccessful in that area, the trip had provided beneficial results, as my roaming had taken me all along Dalmanutha’s docks, giving me a detailed look at the fleet that Prince Hilarious was amassing for the “conquest” of the new islands.
I had been stopping periodically to jot down details of the spectacle before me in a small notebook I always carried, for about an hour and a half, when I noticed a smallish, old-looking building squished between two fancy shops. The sign hanging above the door was of a faded, poorly-rendered rat sitting in a patch of almost faded-off sand.
“Jackpot,” I muttered under my breath, and, putting away my notebook, opened the door and went inside.
Several heads turned to stare as I walked in, and almost immediately I realized a serious problem with my disguise. It was far too fancy for this dingy, dirty establishment, and consequently made me stand out far more than I would have liked. That was not a good thing for a spy.
Stepping inside, my mind racing, I quickly scanned the room before me, looking for my contact as well as getting the layout down. To my right was the bar, consisting of about half-a-dozen old barstools, a long, tall counter, and a large cabinet behind the bar, full of different types of alcohol. Directly in front of me was a modest-sized common room, with a dozen or so tables. Along the wall behind this was a row of booth tables, unbroken except for the worn stairwell at the far end. To my left was a fireplace and mantle.
Inhabiting the whole thing were about ten or twelve mean-looking sailors, and one bartender.
I was the only woman in the place.
That didn’t bother me however, as besides the razor-sharp dirk at my side, there were also about twenty different things around the room that I could turn into deadly weapons in the blink of an eye.
Completing my scan, my eyes alighted on a hooded figure sitting well back in the shadows of the furthermost booth from the door.
It was my contact, “Mr. Jal”.
He saw me and started to rise.
I made a show of rushing over to him, and throwing my arms around him as he did.
“Ah, there you are my love,” I said loudly, giving him an exaggerated kiss on the cheek.
Pulling back, I gave “Mr. Jal” a look that said, play along, hoping he would understand.
He did.
“Ah, my sweet, what took you so long?” He responded, as we broke apart and sat down in his booth.
I gave a flippant laugh. “Oh, I had to escape my betrothed. It took awhile.” I looked around casually. “He’ll never find us here though.”
We both then lowered our voices, like lovers conspiring together. As we did so, I looked at the room from the corner of my eye.
Our little show had the desired double effect. It served to explain why I was dressed so nice, yet coming into a dingy place like this, and, the other patrons were now going back to their drinks and conversations, no longer paying us any attention.
I got the feeling this was rather common.
Only now did I take a closer look at my contact.
Not much of him was visible under the hood he still wore, but I did catch a glimpse of fancy red clothes and a well-groomed goatee.
“That was very clever.” Mr. Jal said in a whisper.
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure it would work.” I said in an equally quiet tone.
“I’m very glad it did." The other responded.
I nodded. “On to other business. You said you had important information.” I made it a statement, not a question.
“I do,” Mr. Jal said, and then, raising his voice a bit, “I think we should order a drink first, however.”
I nodded my assent. It would be wise to keep up our charade.
—————————
Once the bartender had brought us a chipped tankard full of ale each, Mr. Jal passed me a sealed envelope under the table. I took it without comment and slipped it into a waterproof bag in my robes.
We sat for several minutes, sipping our ale and studying each other silently, wondering who each other really was, and where they been, what they’d done, etc.
I was about ninety percent sure “Mr. Jal”, was a textiles merchant, and not a poor one either, judging by the fact that what little of his clothes I could see were of a obviously high quality.
His real name, I had no clue about, but that didn’t really matter.
For his part, I was a complete mystery, of which he hadn’t the faintest clue about.
And that suited me just fine.
——————————————
Our tankards emptied, we rose and prepared to leave. We would walk out the door together, and then immediately go in different directions.
Walking out the door, I turned right, and Mr. Jal turned left. I began walking back the way I had come earlier with fast, confident strides, easily moving through the crowds.
I had gone about a hundred feet done the dock, when something compelled me to casually turn around and locate my contact. I did within seconds. He was not far from the tavern we had met in, taking in the crisp sea breeze blowing in the harbor. Stop being paranoid, I told myself, there’s nothing wrong with breathing the sea air.
I was about to turn away and continue walking, when all of a sudden Mr. Jal gave a cry, and pitched forward onto the cobbles, motionless.
Several people gasped and moved away from his body, giving me a better look, from which I instantly could tell he was dead.
Instincts screaming at me to get the heck out of here, I spun around…..and came face-to-face with two guards, armed with long, spear-sword combo weapons, scowling down at me.
“Eh, hi fellas. What’s wrong?” I asked, feigning innocence.
“You’re not fooling us, spy” the bigger one said.
I pretended to be shocked. “Spy?? Me?”
“Yeah, you,” the other one sneered, “There’s a ‘nice’ interrogation room waiting for you in the Prince’s dungeon, and I’m sure the Prince himself will want to talk to you, too.”
I held out my hand placatingly.
“Now hold on a minute gentlemen, I can explain everything.”
They both laughed. It wasn’t a friendly laugh.
“Oh, I’m sure the Prince will be thrilled to have you ex-.” He never got a chance to finish, as his weapon seemed to suddenly shoot into my outstretched hand, and I swung it viciously in the same smooth movement, taking both out with one motion.
“Sorry boys, got to go.” I said, and ran.
Behind me I heard someone shout, “Stop her! She’s a spy!!”
I didn’t stop to look, but I could here the tramp of armored boots coming after me.
Shoving shocked bystanders aside, I dashed along the docks, frantically looking for an escape route. There were people everywhere, not to mention far more guards then I would have liked.
Weaving around parked wagons, clusters of people and market stalls, I spotted a pair of Loreesi soldiers rushing at me from the side. As they reached me, I planted one foot firmly on the cobbles and pivoted in a half-circle, slamming the butt of the spear into the first soldier’s face, then, reversing my grip, I plunged the head into the second soldier’s back, before charging down the docks again, my pursuers hot on my tail.
Bolting into a open space in the crowd, I increased my pace, and thus widened my lead, though only by a little bit. People all around me yelled and cursed as I (and the guards pursuing me) breezed by them, sometimes knocking them out of the way, in our wild chase through the city docks.
Up ahead, I spotted a large crane, engaged in the process of loading a small warship pulled up alongside the dock. Aiming for this, I dodged around a pair of unwashed peasants and a mother and her son, eliciting a torrent of angry words directed at my fleeing back.
Rounding the crane’s large stone pedestal, I was confronted by a pair of startled guards who had been watching the ship. The first one never had time to lift his shield before I body-slammed him into the ground, and the second had barely any more warning than the first, for I cut him down before he even registered his companion’s demise.
A peasant was also slammed aside in the sudden tussle.
A third guard, behind the first two, and thus having advanced warning, blocked my first strike, and thrust his spear at my chest in a surprisingly fast reaction, but then his spear was suddenly and violently deflected away from me, seeming to the guard as if my left hand had somehow warded it away, before I swung my weapon down in a powerful arc, slicing through his flimsy tunic and cutting deep into his torso, where it stuck there.
I left the weapon in the guard, seeing as I wouldn’t be needing it any longer, and charged across the dock and onto the ship. As I ran across the bow, the captain stepped in front of me, one hand out to stop me.
“Hold on a minute there beatifu-.” He started to say, right before I shoulder-rammed him aside, and, reaching the far gunwale, dove off the ship in a shallow dive.
Plunging beneath the water, I allowed myself to sink to the bottom, before swimming underneath the ship, and silently surfacing under the dock, hidden from view by the hull of the ship.
Holding onto a dock piling, I brushed my now-wet shoulder-length blonde hair away from my eyes, and waited for my breathing to steady, and my heart to stop racing, while listening to the angry shouts of my would-be pursuers, venting their frustration at being unable to find me.
That, I thought, had been way too close for comfort.
——————————
Apologizes for the long story, I just got so caught up in (and was enjoying) the story, I forgot to look at how long it had gotten.
Hope you all like it anyway!
