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Guynemer
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I've been yonder for a few days; I was going to point out the glinting may have been a gold tooth, but I see the connection has been made.
Boshko, yer time is up.
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Zopperoni
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OK, Boshko it is then.
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Jamski
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lol ED&D is officially full PvP LOL
May 2002
time: 05:36
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Chapter 6 - Trouble in Store
That afternoon the pirates were more subdued following the death of their famous captain. Where once before they had laughed in the face of death and strolled openly through the town, they now hung around in a nervous group in the public bar and gambled for small change, their weapons always in sight. Death had seemed a distant impossibility, but now their immortal Black Duke lay gutted like a fish on the beach, and they all dreaded the deathly cold touch of the psycopathic villagers, bent on eliminating these intruders into their island paradise.
* * * * *
The villagers were no less scared. The community had already lost both its religious leaders, so there was no spiritual comfort to be expected, and the loss of Alva meant that they expected no physical protection against the attentions killer pirates that had invaded their once peaceful island either.
* * * * *
Before the voting really got going, Ljcvetko made a short speech, blaming Joncha and Tuberski for the murders. No one really took the piratical detective seriously. Joncha had provided a great service, and Tuberski was not much of a figure of fear, why the half-crippled helmsman could hardly hop faster than a snail. When he tried to blame Boshko though, there was a marked interest from both landsmen and seamen.
"He's pretty secretive," complained Kassiopeia.
"Yeah, and he kept us on short rations too," added Guynemer.
The townsmen were happy to blame any pirate.
And so it was that Boshko, the former quartermaster of the Apolyton, was taken into the town square and hung by the neck until he was dead.
* * * * *
Rah was woken that night by the sound of a woman screaming in the brothel over the road. He dismissed the noise. It was funny what some customers wanted to do. Then he heard raised voices and a loud thud. One voice seemed to have a certain weight of authority to it. There was some more screaming from the woman, and another thud.
"This is no good," thought Rah, "Can't a man sleep in his own bed?"
Dressing quickly he hurried across the road and entered the unlocked door, and headed upstairs to the source of the noise, pistol in hand. He hesitated outside the door, then charged in, shouldering the door out of its frame.
A long-haired figure crouched over a large sack, frantically fumbling with the well-worn ropes holding it closed. Rah didn't hesitate, but fired his pistol at point-blank range into their chest, knocking them away from the sack and across the room. The window shattered outwards behind them, and thick acrid powder smoke filled the room.
"Please," thought the barkeeper, "Let me be in time,"
He bent down to undo the sack, and was nearly shot himself by Jon Miller and Ljcvetcko running in behind him, also armed with pistols.
"What's all this commotion?" demanded the clerk.
"Silence man," ordered Ljcvetcko, "Let's help the barkeep open the sack, quickly!"
The sack was opened, revealing Spiffor, barely conscious, and hardly able to speak.
"He looked... yes... just like you..." he addressed the bleeding figure in the corner that Rah had shot, "Just... like you... but..."
"But what?" asked Joncha, coming in the door, "Oh my god!"
"But..." gasped Spiffor, "But he was male..."
Spiffor died.
By now the whole town and crew were in the small room, attracted by the loud shot. Jonny stalked over and lifted the head of the long-haired girl Rah had shot, intending to study her face. Rah was a worse shot than he was a barman. His soft lead bullet had hit the innocent girl in the face and spread out. The result didn't even look like a human being, but just raw meat.
"Dammnation!" cursed Joncha "Ye scurvy bardog! Ye've killed one o'me girls!"
"Well, sorry," said Rah, "I thought t'were t'killer."
"What did I miss?" asked Tuberski, "It takes me ages to climb them dammed stairs."
* * * * *
Once again Ljcvetko stayed behind to investigate the corpse. He pulled out his magnifying glass and looked for clues. The right hand... Spiffor had a small black spot on the hand... the detective cursed softly. If only he'd thought to check FlameFlash's corpse...
He looked in the mayor's coat pockets, where it hung neatly over a chair... what was this?... another scrap of paper?
Ljcvetko pulled another piece out of his pocket and held it up to the edge of Spiffor's paper. He smiled. He smiled very broadly indeed.
Its time to vote!
-Jam
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Apolyton Time is 00:36. |
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13-05-2004 22:00
ACK!
)
But that should point further to Boshko, so hopefully we did get one.
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