Shadow of a greater Shadow

[Firestripe]

*This day was no different than any other day in the Green Dragon Tavern. It was full of beasts and activity, fighting and drinking, and in one small corner, misery and grief. At first glance, this corner would have looked to contain nothing more than a shadow but if one thought about it, a shadow shouldn't be there for there was plenty of light to go around. Upon closer inspection, one would find this shadow to actually be in the shape of a fox, a rather big one at that though only in height. The form looked almost emaciated campared to how tall it was but it's strength at this point would still rival a normal beast. The table that this shadow sat over had a mug half full of ale along with five others sitting beside it, those being completely empty. If one was especially keen on inspecting things, one would be able too see that it was indeed a fox with fur the color of midnight except for a red stripe on it's head, though the stripe wasn't visable for the head was currently hanging low over the half empty mug of ale. The fur of this fox had next to no luster and was a tangled mess. This shadow of a greater shadow is what was left of Firestripe.*

*Firestripe held his head low over his unfinished mug of ale, he hadn't the willpower to bring himself to lift it to look around the tavern. He had wasted away to almost nothing these past months and it was all his fault. He didn't know what to do with himself now, he had no purpose in life, he had a few times contemplated ending it all but never could bring himself to do it. He wasn't strong enough... I'm never strong enough, I wasn't then, I'm not now, I couldn't save... he stopped his train of thought mid-track and tried to force himself to not think about it anymore though it was a fight he had lost with himself over and over again for weeks on end, hence his current state of being. So instead he tried to drown out his misery in the bottom of a mug, throwing away his rules of not getting drunk just as he had thrown away his life. He lifted up the mug and drank a little more but soon realized that he had drunk more than a little more and dropped the mug back to the table, it didn't bring him what he so desperatly wanted, it never did. He wanted to be on the seas again... the breeze on his face, the clear ocean ahead of him and his captain beside him. He wanted that more than anything else but... it wasn't to be... Why did this have to happen... After his life had been cast from him, he no longer cared for himself, letting himself grow weak compared to what he once was. He barely ate and only got sleep from passing out while drunk. This is the life he had now and he saw no way out of it.*

Why...

((OOC: Whew, MAN, it's good to RP again! As you can see, it would seem that my writing style has changed a bit though through no action of my own. This is probably only because of the darker tone and mood compared to how I usually write. This kind of writing is a new experience for me so I hope I didn't screw it up too bad.))

[Zann'rajh Stormhowl]

Bartholomew Thymeskudd cast his good eye in a customary sweep around the shadowy room, while industriously polishing a pint tankard with a grey dischloth. The Green Dragon was enjoying its clientele of energetic, belligerent customers who visited the pub for a hearty dose of drink and fighting. They had an understanding, however; the barman held that his customers could punch and kick anyone they wanted, but if they broke any of his property he would come down on them like a ton of bricks. Enough beasts had been at the rough end of the black hare's paws that they didn't need to be told twice.

Despite the general uproar, however, there were quite a few customers in today of the quiet, scheming sort, and he had been able to pick up mutterings of conspiracies, arrangements and contracts over the din while passing the shady tables. He did not feel in the least ashamed of this habit of eavesdropping; every barman did it, and in the end it amounted to half the profits of the Green Dragon. Information was currency in the pub, and it was a rare day when at least one corsair, buccaneer or pirate captain didn't pass through with too much gold jingling in their pockets, looking to purchase a snippet of "information received". However, all the customers today had been strictly interested in drinks and grub.

The black hare's golden eye focused on a solitary figure bent over a half-empty mug. The fox had been turning up for a while now, drinking his brains out every day and staggering out into the darkness every night, only to return the next morning for more. He was a paying customer, so Bart hadn't bothered his head with the reasons for his misery. Anyway, it was obvious; the symptoms of a corsair stranded on land where the same everywhere, and Bart had learned to recognize the tragic slump of their heads and the glum silence. He twitched his pierced ear irritably, and the tiny bell at its tip tinkled faintly. He proceeded to lock the drinks cabinet, tucked the keys into an inside pocket of his shirt, and pulled a small bottle and a small pack from under the bar.

The hare barman proceeded to the fox's table and sat down opposite him. The slumped beast made no move to acknowledge him. He plonked the bottle down on the table, and set the small pack next to it. "Ya look like y' need a wee pick-me-up, friend," he growled. "Courtesy of the house, MacTalon's Ginger Beer, Extra Spicy. And ye'll be wantin' some o' these scones too," he said, deftlY undoing the string that bound the package with one paw, "if ye're to sober up. An' then we'll see if there's anythin' I can do fer ye. I unnerstan' ye're after a ship." He stared at the fox, even his milky white, blind eye swiveled to focus on the creature's brow. "Ye look like ye can afford to pay fer some information, judging by the amount of drinks ye've taken since ye first started comin' in here. Always pay yer tab, too, which is a rare an' much appreciated trait in a customer. Seein', though, as ye look sorrier than frog what's been dragged through a meat grinder and ye're a fellow landstruck seabeast, I'll answer any questions ye care t' ask fer free. An' believe me, I hear a lotta things ye might be int'rested in."

[Firestripe]

(OOC: Just so you know, our descriptions of the Green Dragon for that day don't seem to agree with eachother. ))

*It barely registered in Firestripe's head that another beast had joined him at his lonely corner, that is untill the smell of scones reached his nose. He looked up slowly, trying to listen to what the hare sitting in front of him was saying. He'd never met this beast before in his life as far as he could remember. He then realized that this was the bartender at the tavern, Firestripe never really talked to him, just gave him his money and went on his drunken way. It seemed this beast was under the impression that Firestripe was merely a seabeast with no way off land... if only it were that simple. Firestripe grabbed a scone and wolfed it down before chasing the food down with a swig of the beer Firestripe brought, both barely had any taste to him at this point due to his taste buds having been numbed by the constant drinking. He then looked over at the bartending hare.*

There's only one ship that has a place for me and it's not on the seas any more... it's under them.

*He said in a surprisingly sober sounding voice. That was a strange quality about Firestripe's drunken state, he couldn't think straight when he was drunk but his talking voice sounded fairly normal. Maybe that was him just getting used to the alchohol. Either way though, his problem was more than not having a ship, he could easily find a place on one if he wanted to. His ship was no longer sailing and it was the only ship he'd ever sail on again. He'd seen it sink himself. He'd been powerless to stop it. I was powerless to save her... At this thought he dropped his head again and swigged down more of the beer dropping the bottle's contents to about half. he didn't want to bring up his old memories, especially with somebeast that he knew not at all. Why did the bartender have to come over here, just because he wanted some extra money? It wasn't like Firestripe hadn't given them enough as it was, he still held true to some of his former beliefs, one of them being that one shouldn't owe debt to anybeast, which is why he payed for all his drinks and owed the tavern nothing. To be honest, Firestripe came to the tavern so that he could be left alone, not many beasts will go to sit at a table in a corner with a tall black fox that they don't know at all, especially one that looks as miserable as he does. Who knows what might set off the fox and turn his misery into anger. Of course, Firestripe was only angry at himself... and the ones who caused his grief, but he couldn't do anything about them either. He was powerless... pathetic...

[Zann'rajh Stormhowl]

Bart's brow furrowed at that. A thought that had been jumping up and down at the back of his mind trying to catch his attention suddenly took center stage. The barman focused his good eye on the red stripe of fur that ran in a ridge over the fox's head, and the pitch-black fur that grew around it. How many beasts were there with a fur pattern like that? More to the point, how many foxes... He remembered hearing that a beast of similar description had found work as an officer on one of the big ships.... Now which one was it?

Ah, yes......

He sat in silence for a minute or two, watching the bedraggled beast wolf down the scones. The fox seemed to be in an unstable mood; the matter needed careful handling. Eventually, he spoke up.

"I can see ye're no' in the mood fer talkin'. I respect that. However, I think I got a pretty good idea what ye're on about, laddy. Now far be it fra' me t' mess in anotherbeast's business," he said, in defiance of any evidance to the contrary, but I'll give ye a wee hint t' go on.

"There's a certain creature on the seas somewhere who they say's been on even more ship's in 'is short life than even me, an' that's sayin' somethin'. They say he survived through bloody mutiny and shipwreck. A great grey wolf from the Northlands, they say, his mane in dreadlocks, carrying a sword as tall as he is that's little more than a hunk of steel with an edge, an' covered in blue tattoos of swirling knots. Now this beast he's a keen customer in here, could drink the crew of a whole galley under the table an' still pay the bill. Last I heard he found an officer job on one o' the big ships. My advice, laddie, is t' stick around an' keep yer eyes peeled. Sooner or later, a' ships dock in Loamsdown, an' sooner or later the wolf with the dreadlocks is gun' walk in here. I think I c'n make a heducated guess that he's the one y' need t' talk to."

Bartholomew stood up suddenly. "Well, if ye'll excuse me, I must be gett'n back t' the work. Gewd day t'ye." He strode off towards the brawl, bellowing, "Gaskin Splintshanks! If ye cannae pay fer that chair y' jsut broke, yer flyin' out that door on yer arse! Drop that rat the now, an' git yer han' in yer pocket, ya poachin' maggot!"

(OOC: Bart is referring to my other character Zann, currently Bosun on the NightPearl.)

[Firestripe]

*Firestripe didn't even lift his head as the hare left the table. He had no idea what the bartender had been talking about. Maybe I would'a understood if I wasn't so drunk... whatever... It didn't really matter at this point anyway. there was no way that his ship would ever resurface and even then if it did, he wouldn't sail on a ghost ship by himself. Firestripe swigged down more of the beer, not even noticing that there wasn't much left in it and then ate some more scones. He still couldn't shake what that hare had been talking about. Why does he think that this beast can help me? He didn't even give me a name... even if that beast did walk in here, I'd be too drunk to make my way over there... whatever. He didn't have anything to do now, but then again, that was a normal occurance for him nowadays. He decided to drunk some more to pass the time and downed the rest of the beer in front of him. He was unhappy with how quickly it got finished off and held the bottle upside down, as if wishing for more to come out. not surprisingly, al that came out was one little drop. He grunted and dropped the bottle on the table and then ate more scones, now finishing them off as well. Usually at this point he would get more ale but he just didn't have the will power at this point. he'd give it a few minutes. In the meantime he decided to not do anything and he dropped his head a little more.*[/color]

[Scarlet]

The night was dark and humid as Scarlet Rose Nightshadow, Captain of the Nightpearl, made her way toward The Green Dragon Tavern. It had been a few months since last she docked in Loamsdown, and at the sight of the well-known port Scarlet felt a twinge of some weird form of content. Even though she didn't know what this feeling was, most any other beast would know it was a comforting feeling of being in a familiar and well-loved place. Scarlet secretly considered Loamsdown a second home, as it was the very place her parents had first left her to fend for herself. Through the help of an old shrew and a friendly but harsh otter captain, she had gained a position on her first ship and so fell in love with the sea.

The crew and herself had chosen to dock the Nightpearl in Loamsdown before their long journey down to the Green Isles, knowing that they would all appreciate a break on land where drinks and food were plenty. Scarlet had wanted to dock in Loamsdown for an entirely different reason, though she didn't know what it was. Something had compelled her to choose this port, and she acted almost purely on impulse, just as she acted purely on impulse by heading toward the Green Dragon.

Ever since Firestripe had disappeared, Scarlet had not been completely herself. She was devastated at first, secretly weeping in her cabin alone. This was a rare thing for Scarlet to shed tears of distress and sorrow. Only a few times had she ever shed tears in her entire life, and the majority of those times they were tears of joy. She never showed to the crew how extremely Firestripe's disappearance affected her, keeping her emotions locked up inside of her heart and mind, but the crew still knew dispite her efforts. She had grown thinner, not relishing the delightful flavors of her favorite dishes as she used to. Her temper had become less easily set off, her face an emotionless mask most of the time as she monotonously gave out orders and kept the Nightpearl running smoothly. She hadn't been seen smiling since, not even once. She was truly changed.


The air around her was humid and the stars shone bright in the black sky, the moon a thin crescent with a ring of white light around it like an angel's halo. The street was slightly muddy as Scarlet's paws passed over it's rough surface, padding nearly silently through the night. As she approached the tavern, she remembered she had forgotten to check how many coins she had left in her purse. She reached a paw into the small red leather bag that was attached to her belt. There were only four coins left; That would only be enough for about two drinks, maybe not even that. Scarlet cursed quietly, but continued toward the tavern. She did not want to go all the way back across Loamsdown to fetch a few more coins. It wasn't worth it.

Finally, Scarlet approached the tavern, the sounds of raucous laughter reaching her ears along with the general hum of conversation. It was brightly lit up inside, a beacon that seemed to call to all of the corsairs who wanted to eat and drink until they were drunken and stuffed, or until their pockets grew empty. She pushed open the oaken door, her ears flicking slightly at the high-pitched squeak that came from the rusted hinges that attached the door to it's frame. The air inside of the tavern was warm and slightly smoky, filled with corsairs and land-beasts alike, all looking as though they were having a swell time.

Scarlet made her way over to the bar, finding an empty seat next to a rather sober looking brown fox. He was wearing a worn red admirals jacket with faded gold trimmings and a simple pair of black trousers. He smiled charmingly at her as she sat down and immediately offered to buy her a drink. " Well good evenin' to ye, ma'am. Might I 'ave the pleasure of buyin' ye a drink?" He said, his voice equally as charming as his smile. Scarlet looked the fox up and down. He didn't seem like he would have any extra change on him, seeing as how he was wearing somewhat tattered clothing, but then again she was wearing equally tattered clothing and she was one of the richest pirate captains on the seas. She smiled at him, knowing that just a smile would win him over. " No, thank you." She said, quite politely, her voice tinted with an edge of seductiveness. He may turn out to have quite a few coins jingling around in his coat pockets.

Scarlet turned to look for the bartender and her eyes settled upon the black hare that seemed to run the joint just as he was berating a customer of breaking a chair. She waited patiently for him to finish what he was doing and come over to the bar. When he did, Scarlet noticed his one white, milky eye. As always, she was curious to know what happened, and decided that she would ask him after she had had as many drinks as her current currency would allow. " I'd like a glass of your finest red wine." She said. The fox sitting next to her still hadn't taken his eyes off of her. She mentally laughed at the stricken fool, knowing just how easily his money could be in her paws by the end of the night.

[Zann'rajh Stormhowl]

Bart made his way back behind the bar, snorting agitatedly. Brainless drunkards, yes; drunk sailors were more willing to part with money. Fights, yes, it attracted customers who wanted a show; but breakages were out, always would be. He turned his attention to the newcomer, and memory raised a card. Barmen everywhere have a good head for descriptions, reputations, and rumors; good barmen acquired an ability to piece it all together. Well, well.... He flashed his good eye momentarily at the depressed stranger at the solitary table. Maybe Luckless (as he'd dubbed the fox in his thoguhts until he found out his name) would find what he was looking for after all.

He turned back to his new customer, and gave her a grin that lasted as long as a lightning flash. "Only th' best f'r you, Captain." The black hare bent under the bar, speedily unlocking the small lock on the 'Specials' cabinet. Withdrawing a slim bottle filled with clear red wine, he snapped the lock shut again and placed the bottle on the bar. "Thistleburrow's XXX, thirteen years. Finest you'll find in the town. Gold piece a glass, five for the bottle." Bartholomew scowled for a second at the other customer. "Whut's yer game, pal? Gonna buy a drink or lounge there all day? If y' ain't a payin' customer y' can git 'fore I leave m' pawprint on yer backside."

[Scarlet]

Scarlet refrained from grinning back at the hare; even though he looked sensible enough not to gape after her beauty, one could never tell with this things. Scarlet sighed. She only had four gold pieces, not enough to buy the whole bottle, as she had hoped. She looked over at the brown fox sitting next to her, who had momentarily taken his eyes off her to look at the bartender. He immediately sensed that her attention was on him again, and put what he must imagine to be a very charming look on his face. Scarlet mentally laughed again, only this time it was at his attempt.

"May I take you back up on that offer? You see, I need one more gold coin so that I can buy this bottle of red wine, and I would be most appreciative if you would help me out." She used that innocent yet slightly seductive tone of voice again, knowing it work. The fox immediately stuck his paw into his left pocket and withdrew a slightly dirty but valid gold coin. " Here ya are, Miss." He said, laying the coin on the bar in front of Scarlet. She smiled, and thanked the fox, before putting her own four coins on the counter as well. " Here, this should be enough for the whole bottle. " She slid the coins toward the hare across the bar.

The fox held out a paw, finally getting around to introducing himself. " The name's Kehin, pleased ta' meet ye." He smiled again as Scarlet shook his paw. Despite his rather dirty, vagabond appearance, his paws were quite clean. His build was slightly thin, but he looked to have some muscle beneath his chocolate brown fur, which was also kept clean and untangled. His eyes were a strange golden brown color, and he seemed very bright. " Scarlet." Scarlet introduced herself in reply as just 'Scarlet', a thing which she normally did. Kehin already knew that she was a Captain anyway, for the bartender had been quick witted enough to know it himself and had addressed her as such just moments before.

Withdrawing her paw, Scarlet turned her attention back on the bartender.

[Sunce Lakala and Ay Kamara]

**Sunce was angry. So angry she had not spoken a word to anybody for three days. she managed to salute, and do her duty. she had said "yes" to the skipper and the undertaker once or twice, but that was it. she managed to force a smile for daya, but she had left him in the care of a friendly otter she trusted for tonight.

She was stalking along the streets, her pockets faintly jangling with her saved money, she planned to have a real night tonight. her face looked as if it could bring stormclouds crashing down on the nearest beasts head. A rat in the street, lying on the floor went to ask her for money, but stopped without saying anything. He wanted his life, even if it was shallow and dull. she glanced in his direction, and nodded. she didn't hate lowlife, she just felt pity for them, even now.

She walked into The Green Dragon, and didn't even glance around. she knew he wouldn't be there, that treacherous rat of hers. she wandered up to the bar, sat down.** A glass of the best ale, and the really best if you please sir. ** She says, politelys removing her hat, and finally looks around** Oh, good evening Scarlet. you look like hell too. What's happened on your end?

[Scarlet]

Scarlet was only irritated at Sunce's remark on her looking like hell as the vixen sat down next to her. Before, though, she would have been holding a dagger to Sunce's throat if she had said something like that, but since Firestripe left, well.... Her temper was not as prone to explode upon one when one said things that they shouldn't or that Scarlet felt was insulting even if it wasn't meant to be.

" I don't know what you could mean. I am perfectly alright." Scarlet's tone had an edge to it that was razor sharp and cold, but it was not all that noticable. She promptly sensed Sunce's anger and distress, as it seemed to radiate from her. She was obviously very, very angry about something or someone. Scarlet, being curious, immediately wanted to know what it was that was bothering Sunce. Sunce was normally a rather happy creature, especially when her rat Ay was around.

Scarlet poured herself a glass of wine, nonchalantly taking a sip. The brown fox Kehin that was sitting to her left tried in vain to strike up a conversation. " So, what are you doin' in Loamsdown?" He asked, leaning casually on an elbow that was propped up on the bar. Scarlet set her glass down and pretended she did not hear him, though it was probable that she would not have been able to, because the din was rather loud in the tavern.

Scarlet turned to Sunce, a questioning look on her face. " So, what happened to you?" She asked, her voice pretty much void of the edgy coldness that had been there before. Sunce seemed really angry about something and Scarlet just had to know what. She had always been so curious, even when she was a little one, and the older she got, the more intense this burning curiousity of hers grew.