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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: Grrrr!!!

As Captain, I sorely protest!

RL is but a swab what can serve as a meat shield when th' enemy's stormin' our broadsides an'... Oh.... never mind... I know how RL bites, sometimes....

Best wishes and a speedy return mate. Want I should NPC Khash through this next bit?

Edit: Aye aye, matey. Just makin' sure ye know I'd float ye... Glad tae have ye aboard.

Posted on 2011-09-13 at 01:49:08.
Edited on 2011-09-13 at 01:57:28 by Eol Fefalas

Topic: And it all went to Hell
Subject: Now there's a way to wake up!!!

Sorry to hear about the school fire, ninja...

Here's hoping all goes well for you, regardless.

Posted on 2011-09-12 at 16:09:27.

Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: Nice post, Lady D...

...could I sweet talk you into rolling the "timestamp" back to early afternoon, though? I plan on having Jericho and company show up at the Hook closer to noon-time.

Posted on 2011-09-12 at 16:08:23.

Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: Is it hot in here?

Or is that just you?

"Mad word-love" = +1

Posted on 2011-09-12 at 15:21:30.

Topic: Tales from the Smuggler's Moon
Subject: New Horizons... Same old town...

Dawn, 19th of Chad, 2005

“Land ho!”

Jericho grumbled and rubbed at his eyes before he allowed them to open…

“Serpent’s Teeth! Point an’ a half ta starboard!”

… and when they did, the captain of Smuggler’s Moon had to squint against the early morning light in order to pick out the lads in the rigging and the one up in the nest on the mainmast who had called out was completely obscured sail and sunbeams. He shielded his eyes from the daylight with one hand while the other reached back and gripped the crate as, stretching against the stiffness that sleeping on the thing had put in his back, he craned around to set his own eyes on the jagged profile of A’val and its sister islands. The wind blew hard in his face as he did and set the sails to fluttering and his eyes to squinting all the more… he felt the Moon hesitate in that split second shift of wind and that caused him to grumble once more.

He slid off the crate, then, and staggered a bit closer to the prow, leaning on the bowsprit as he loosened the scarf tied about his brow, shoved the greater mop of his hair back, and retied the whole mass in a sloppy ponytail at the base of his skull as he eyed the islands ahead and, more importantly, the seas that surrounded them. “She’s tae be a choppy one, lads,” Jericho hollered as he tore his eyes away from the looming shape of Mount A’val and turned to stride astern, “reef us in, ye lubbers, th’ winds’ll be wantin’ tae toy us about!”

He leapt down the ladder from the foredeck to the main and kept going, shouting orders as to tack and sail as he went and hearing those orders echoed across the decks and through the tops in his wake. He had reached the steps to the quarter deck when the wind shifted against them once more and Smuggler’s Moon bucked in protest as the once rolling surface of the sea shot a suddenly spiky wave up under her keel. “So much fer th’ fair winds an’ foll’win’ seas,” he growled, bounding up onto the quarterdeck and turning to peer out over the Moon’s bow, again.

“Trim us down tae fightin’ sail, boys,” Jericho called out after having studied the waters and winds for an instant. He backed towards the wheel, then, never taking his eyes off the choppy seas ahead, and wordlessly took hold of the thing when Epidii similarly let go and backed away; “Let’s rouse us some hands and get us a firm hand on them ropes, aye? We’ll skip ‘er like a stone all th’ way tae T‘wik if she makes us!”

“The seas were calm until just a moment ago, Captain,” Epidii commented as Jericho spun the wheel, angling the ship for a smoother cut across the rough water, “there was no indication of…”

“Aye, Epidii,” Jericho answered when the shifting wind caught in the Moon’s sails once more and pulled them along on a more southerly bearing, “She be a fickle lass, this mornin’ ‘twould seem…”

That reply brought a somewhat thoughtful smile to the Captain’s lips as he couldn’t help but wonder if he was talking about the sea or, instead, if it was perhaps Davian to whom he was referring. If she’s th’ navigator I b’lieve her tae be, an’ wit’ her r’luctance tae put in a’ Freeport, it wouldnae be surprisin’ ef this sudden blow be her doin’ as opposed tae th’ weather’s.

“…No worries, though, aye? She’s nae fickle enough tae keep us off… jus’ wants tae give us a bit of a fight tae be sure we’re all awake.”

Morning: 19th of Chad, 2005; Freeport Harbor

Whether it was wind and wave or witchery that fought against Smuggler’s Moon’s arrival at Freeport, it hadn’t fought too hard. It had been a somewhat less than smooth sail along the reef that surrounded the Serpent’s Teeth and it had set more than one stomach to churning before Milton’s Folly loomed before them, marking the passage through the reef and into the bay, but not a single soul had been tossed over the sides or out of the rigging and, it seemed, that once the Moon had rounded T’wik and set her bowsprit over the bay, the waters had smoothed themselves back to glass and the elf-crafted clipper slid silently into the harbor. It wasn’t long thereafter that she was moored near the western end of The Docks and her decks were bustling with activity… cargo was made ready to offload, departing hands gathered their belongings and brought themselves on deck to await their final pay before disembarking, and, even those crew that were staying seemed anxious to have Halfpenny divvy some coin into their hands and find their way to shore.

Jericho lingered on the quarterdeck for a long while, his gaze sweeping the sprawl of Freeport when he wasn’t watching the hurly-burly on his own decks… I reckon if we have a home aside from the sea, this’d be it, he mused as his eyes skimmed the rambling spread of the Star of the Sea, Better’n some, I s’pose… A sight worse’n others… He took a deep breath, then, and winced a little at the pungent mixture of rotting fish guts, sewage, smoke, and the sweat of thousands that near overpowered the briny tang of the waters and the peaty scent of the jungle that clung to the wind as it blew through the city. “Gimme th’ open ocean, any day, aye? We’ll nae be here, long, me lovely,” he smirked, patting the wheel as he finally stepped away and made for the ladder, “Enough tae manage business, gather ye some fresh hands an’ sundry, an’ off we set…”

As his feet hit the main deck and he turned for the hatchway that led to the “officer’s” cabins, he came face to face with Davian… She seemed to almost huddle in the shadow of the sterncastle, her limpid eyes skimming over Freeport with what the corsair could only interpret as great uncertainty. “G’mornin’, Missus Passat,” he said, sketching a bit of a bow, “Fer th’ life o’ me I dinnae expect tae be seein’ ye on deck, giv’n th’ reluctance ye had in comin’ an’ all…” He looked over his shoulder at the sprawl, again, and chuckled; “She do draw th’ eye, though, don’ she?”

If nae th’ heart…

“Ne’er fear, lovely,” he said from behind a roguish grin as he turned his gaze back to her, “we’ll nae tarry here, long, I don’ reckon. Jus’ long enough tae close a contract, repack our stores, an’ find us a new swab or seven, aye?…”

His eyes danced over her, taking note of the borrowed tunic, belt, and dagger she still wore. If the girl was staying on as she had indicated, she’d need better fare than that (lovely as it was on her)… he’d have to see to it that she got something appropriate, he supposed, though he had no clue as to even how to start to buy a dress or other such.

“…An’, if ye’ll nae be needin’ me cabin fer a moment er two, I’ll be goin’ tae make meself more presentable so’s we c’n make this stop’s quick’s we can,” Jericho flicked a wink at the girl, then, and, stepping around her, disappeared through the hatchway.

((OOC: Anything or nothing from Davi, here, of course… backposts as necessary. ))

Once in his now unlocked cabin, he pulled on a pair of boots, donned a fresh tunic, and fastened his sword-belt around his waist before sorting out his hair. Afterward, he gathered the greater sum of deHertsberghe’s journals (Jericho had seen fit to remove or accidentally obliterate several pages from the last of them), and the dead man’s ring that Rheobryn had said he’d accept as further proof of the Rapier captain’s demise. All of this he stuffed into a sturdy if salt worn leather satchel and slung over one shoulder as he tromped back out into the corridor.

“Khash-mate,” he pounded on the door to his brother’s cabin with the flat of his hand as he passed, “Up an’ at ‘em, brother… we be expected by more’n one this mornin’!”

He smiled at the rumbling reply that came back and continued on his way back to the main deck…

((OOC: Okay… the remainder is pending a collab between T_O and myself… I figure it’s at this point that the interaction with Willow (all dolled up to go to town, herself, occurs…))

Posted on 2011-09-12 at 15:17:37.

Topic: We will Always Remember
Subject: Semper Fi!

Nuff said!

Posted on 2011-09-12 at 11:10:05.

Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: Update...

... deckplans for the forecastle and sterncastle have been posted on the first page of the Q&A.

Posted on 2011-09-11 at 16:54:54.

Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: *grins*

Looking forward to the rest DB. Definitely an intriguing character so far...

Great posts by YeOlde and Lady D have been tacked on to the game thread, too, I see... Thank you... Love to see this thing inspiring such yummylicious reads.

I'll have one for Jericho up soon.

Posted on 2011-09-11 at 14:44:43.

Topic: could you put guns in a classic dnd game?
Subject: Agreed...

...if you do use firearms, I'd make them "rarish" or, better yet, make other concessions to balance things out (i.e. whittle back the potential for magic, etc)... As I said... more on this later... gotta run before the wife scowls me into submission.

Posted on 2011-09-10 at 15:11:02.

Topic: could you put guns in a classic dnd game?
Subject: Actually...

...I've got some notes on this, somewhere, that I scribbled down when I was considering running Smuggler's Moon as a "rules-based" game... Given the theme of the game, of course, we're working with flintlock/wheel-lock/matchlock type firearms (and cannons... can't forget the cannons)...

There was something about weapon proficiency trade offs (character classes who usually start out proficient with crossbows, for example, get those proficiencies swapped for pistols, etc....) and, of course damage, range, and similar stats for the weapons themselves played in there, somewhere.

Got some running around to do today but I plan on lingering around the Inn later tonight... When I get home and can rifle through my notes, I'll be sure to post up what I've got here, for you.

Posted on 2011-09-10 at 14:54:39.

Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: No worries, Lady D...

...we're not really into the "meat" of the adventure, yet, anyway... I'm perfectly fine with an at your own pace, get comfortable in your character's skin, fluffy RP kind of thing right now, anyway.

RL gets a hold of us all from time to time, we know... I am, however, hoping to launch us into more *ahem* troublesome waters by the first of the week, though. Or at least get our toes in, eh?

Posted on 2011-09-10 at 01:34:47.

Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: Yay for geekery!

I love that kinda stuff!

Thanks, Celeste.

Posted on 2011-09-09 at 00:32:54.

Topic: Tales from the Smuggler's Moon
Subject: Backposting a bit...

Night: Decks of Smuggler’s Moon, 18 Chad 2005

The sun had set in the wake of Smuggler’s Moon and sent her sailing into the dark. The decks had grown quieter… the creaking of her timbers, the occasional snap and flutter of her sails, and the lapping of the waves against her hull were far more prevalent on the Moon’s decks at this hour than in the daytime when the hustle and bustle of the crew, their voices raised in shouts and songs and their feet thumping on the decks, could often times muffle those things… and, though the winds still held, driving the violet-hued prow of the elven ship steadily through the waters toward Freeport, the night seemed incredibly still as Jericho padded barefoot on to the Main Deck.

Though many of the crew slept (some below decks, some stretched out on the Main itself) there were others still awake; a small knot of swabs dicing for pennies whilst passing a skin of wine, here; a pair of rigging-monkeys fussing with some loose knot-work in one of the shrouds, there; the helmsman, Epidii, standing solemnly beside the wheel, his gaze alternating, now and again, between the stars above and the dark expanse of sea ahead; and, up in the tops, Jericho was sure he spotted “Rope Runner” moving through the rigging…

“Th’ lad’s most like tryin’ tae juggle daggers whilst hangin’ from th’ ropes by ‘is toes,” Jericho chuckled under his breath, his gaze flitting away from the gypsy bladesman’s silhouette and following a spray of stars across the sky and into the sea.

He swaggered towards the gunwales, his eyes as intent on those stars just above the ink-black line of the horizon as his thoughts were intent on the happening of these last couple of days and what might come of having Davian Passat aboard. He’d given his own cabin over to the woman, already… an offer of good faith, he’d called it at the time, thinking it would further reassure her as to his intentions where she was concerned and, of course, give her a place to ‘hide with her thoughts’ whenever she might need it… but, Jericho was sure, that his cabin wouldn’t be the highest cost he would pay for having rescued Davi from deHertsbergh’s Rapier

Gone an’ made more trouble fer ye’self, ain’t ye, he mused inwardly, leaning against the rails and staring out into the blue-black melding of water and sky, An’ sailin’ ye’self an’ yer crew direct intae the face o’ wha’s sure tae be more, even so, should ye linger in Freeport too long, aye?

“Ah, Jericho-lad,” he murmured, half a sigh and half a chuckle, as he turned from the rail and perched himself on the barrel of a nearby cannon, “Whatcha got yerself in fer this time, eh?” He pulled a long-stemmed pipe from where it had been tucked through his belt and poked the contents of the bowl with a finger before clamping it between his teeth. His eyes skimmed the decks, again, and he puffed thoughtfully at the unlit pipe while he contemplated what might come next… and what he’d tell his crew about Davian when the time came. Jericho had just lit a splinter of wood on a lantern’s flame and was about to touch it to the bowl of his pipe when the heavy sound of approaching footsteps drew his attentions away from the sea and stars and towards the companionway…

“Ahoy, Askurt,” Jericho called when he spied the Moon’s master gunner emerging from below decks, “I were beginnin’ tae wonder if’n ye’d pry yerself away from them guns we scavenged long enough tae get ye some air afore we ported in a’ A’val, mate!”

Askurt chuckled at this. "Someone had to make sure those were well cleaned. This ship's not long for the ocean should LeBoom get hold of one not well-kept. A brilliant gunner, but a little to absent minded at times. She'd sink us on the first back-fire." Askurt's voice was light, at least for a dwarf, but his eyes serious, gauging the Captain's mood. It was apparent he had something on his mind.

“Aye,” Jericho replied… the dwarf’s words had caused him to smile around the stem of the pipe, but the just the thoughts of the Moon sinking caused Hawkes to shudder… “We’d nae be wantin’ tha’, would we? I’d hate tae be treadin’ water whilst ye an’ LeBirna rowed a plank back tae raise th’ Rapier…” He blew a smoke ring out across the deck on the wind of his laughter. A good-humored wink followed and Jericho patted the cannon he was sitting on as he reclined slightly. “I’ve nary a doubt ye’ve a’ready got them guns in fightin’ shape, Askurt-mate,” the Captain grinned, puffing on his pipe, “these did fine fer deHertsbergh’s scow, aye?”

He studied Askurt for a moment as the dwarf tromped toward him, then, let his gaze sweep the deck and the seas beyond before returning to the cannon-master. “Ye’ve somethin’ on yer mind, Askurt,” he said, “elstwise ye’d be eyein’ yer guns more’n me…”

Askurt nodded. "Aye Captain, something...." Askurt knew he should be careful in his approach, but was not one to beat around the bush. Things like that were best left to Elves. He scanned the horizon, not really seeing it. "You've been gone the better part of the day," he said, turning to face Jericho.

“Mhmm,” Jericho conceded, a brow spiking slightly beneath the bandana as he wondered where the dwarf might be going with this, “our new pass’nger’s a bit tossed about, mate. It’s taken more’n a peck o’ reassurances tae get ‘er becalmed.

Is it tha’ ye’ve missed me smilin’ face as brings ye topside, Maast?”

Askurt did not grin at the jest. He eyed Jericho knowingly. "Anything that takes the wind out of th' Captain's sails is cause for concern," he said, then lower, "especially if it can then put it in the Moon's...”

“Understood, mate,” the Captain smiled faintly, “ye c’n belay yer concern, though, aye? Me sails’re back tae full an’ our pass’nger’s stowed safe an’ outta th’ way fer th’ time-bein’.” Puffing on the pipe, he leaned forward a bit and regarded the Master Gunner seriously; “Could be th’ lass put the wind in the Moon’s sails as th’ scuttlebutt says, me friend, but could be twere jus’ happenstance, too, aye?” His gaze ticked toward the hatchway that lead to the Captain’s Cabin, rested there for a moment, and then returned to Askurt; “Th’ girl’s a special one, I’ll nae be denyin’ tha’, but let’s keep th’ bit about ‘er stirrin’ th’ winds stowed fer a spell… I’d nae like tae have half me crew run off once we hit Freeport fer no more’n superstition an’…

…Tha’s nae wha’ yer thinkin’, is it, Maast?” Jericho almost scowled, leaning back again as he contemplated the possibility, “Come tae tell me yer off a’ Freeport cuz yer worried we’ve a witch aboard?”

At this the dwarf did smile. "It would take more than the thought of witchcraft to get me off this tub, Cap'n Hawkes." He then sobered. "But if this wind is happenstance, I'll fire myself out the cannons." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "Ye'll not get rid of me as easy as that Captain. And you know I'm not one to rumor-mongering. Let's just hope the crew stays distracted by the prospect of shore leave, and don’t take it on themselves to ask questions. Should one of them set foot in Freeport with that in their heads...." Askurt shrugged. "Gathering a new crew will be the least of our worries."

“Aye, an’ ye’ve got th’ right o’ it, there, lad,” Jericho chuckled from behind a smoke ring. He was glad the dwarf hadn’t come to him with plans of leaving the crew… just as glad that, despite the rumors that’d floated the decks in the last couple of days, none of the rest of the crew seemed so inclined, either… but he couldn’t help thinking back a few years to when he’d taken a ship named Isabella and, along with her, ‘inherited’ another passenger who had made his mates, then, just as uneasy as Davian made his crew, now. Monsignor Domino had had a more threatening, almost evil air to him, though, and they’d managed to deliver him without much incident, despite a rather uncomfortable two weeks in the bokor’s presence. “I reckon if we treat ‘er like she were any other pass’nger, Askurt,” the captain shrugged, remembering that such had been the case with Domino, “we’ve got precious little tae worry on, there…” He grinned and patted the cannon he was straddling then… “…an’ we got yer boomers fer whate’er may try an’ sort any our way, aye?”

Askurt nodded is assent. "Aye Captain, when ye sail from Freeport, ye'll find me ready to sail with you.... with perhaps a new toy for the Moon..." Askurt trailed off, a gleam in his eye. "Goodnight Cap'n." He retreated across the decks, seeking his own quarters and the night's sleep.

“G’night, Askurt-mate,” Jericho returned, grinning faintly at the glimmer he’d seen in the dwarf’s eye and the mention of a new toy… I wonder wha’ th’ ol’ salt’s conjurin’, now?… “Dinnae fergit, drinks tae th’ tune o’ twenty lords when we take th’ shore,” he called after the gunner, tapping his pipe out over the rail, “It’ll be comin’ outta me own share. Ye’ll be sore tae miss it…” He chuckled when the crusty dwarf raised a powder-blackened hand in response and then, silently, disappeared back below.

“I bloody well hope ‘e’s nae thinkin’ about slaggin’ the guns we took from th’ Rapier an’ makin’ tha’ Long Tom, agin’” Jericho chuckled, swinging a leg over the cannon he’d been sitting on and sliding his feet back to the deck, “I dinnae know where ‘e’d even think tae mount such a theng…”

Still smiling, Jericho Hawkes gave a slow shake of his head, let the rest of his chuckle escape his lips in the form of a sigh that bespoke the relaxation that a quiet night on the decks of Smuggler’s Moon always brought on him, and stretched. It was a languid stretch, drawn on longer than he had intended by the feel of the breeze that blew across him at just that moment… and his smile shifted a bit, too, becoming perhaps as languorous as that stretch was, for that breeze not only carried the soothing touch of the knighted sea but, also, the sounds of Willow at her fiddle…

~City lights shine on the harbor,
Night has fallen down….~

…As was often the case with the half-elf’s playing, the music and lyrics seemed to swirl around him, seeming to emanate from every direction at once and, yet, at the same time, seemed as soft as a secret whispered into his ear alone… that particular trick of her talent, though, didn’t confuse him, now, as it had when he had met the bard some five or six years ago… He turned toward the prow…

~…Through the darkness and the shadow,
I will still go on…~

…He found Willow just where he’d expected – perched on a crate near the bowsprit, “Rose” nestled in the crook of her neck, her sandy hair tossed by the wind, and her honeyed eyes reflecting the starlight as she gazed out towards the eastern horizon – lost in her music…

~Long, long journey, through the darkness,
Long, long way to go…~

…Jericho padded to a stop behind her, his gaze tracking hers out over the waves to linger there for a moment while he simply listened…

~…but what are miles across the ocean
To the heart that’s coming home?...~

…He smiled, then, his gaze abandoning the sea and sky to frame Willow, once more. “I ne’er know if yer conjurin’ tears er smiles wi’ tha’ one, Willow-luv,” he murmured as he kissed her softly on the neck before seating himself on the crate behind her, “I reckon tha’ all depends on who’s doin’ th’ listenin’, though, dunnit?”

Willow made no answer aside from a sidelong glance, a smile, and to continue playing…

~…Where the road runs through the valley,
Where the river flows,
I will follow every highway
To the place I know…~

“Aye,” Jericho said, his eyes wandering back out to the sea that surrounded Smuggler’s Moon, then along the decks to the scattered knots and dots of her crew, “an’ who be listenin’ th’ hardest t’night, I wonder?”

Again, Willow simply smiled and glanced at him as he reclined across the crate beside her, but made no other answer, just then, but to keep singing…

~…Long, long journey through the darkness,
long, long way to go;
but what are miles across the ocean
to the heart that's coming home?

Long, long journey out of nowhere,
long, long way to go;
but what are sighs and what is sadness
to the heart that's coming home? ~

The lyrics evaporated into the night but the music played on for a while. Jericho lounged on the crate, his gaze alternately wandering the stars and Willow’s face as he contemplated the song, the ship, and the souls aboard. “Wha’s it say ‘bout a heart tha’s a’home in the roamin’, Will,” he asked after a few moments, “D’ye reckon there be a shanty ‘bout a heart wha’s home is where e’er it may be a’ th’ moment?”

Willow slowly took Rose from the crook of her neck. The song seemed to echo out across the water even after the notes had died. She sat motionless and gazed across the open water. Thoughts of home and family swirled in her mind, alternating with the faces of those on board. After a fashion, Jericho's voice floated across to her, seemingly from far away even though he lounged right next to her.

“Wha’s it say ‘bout a heart tha’s a’home in the roamin’, Will? D’ye reckon there be a shanty ‘bout a heart wha’s home is where e’er it may be a’ th’ moment?”

She stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating the nature of what he said.

"You would say that, Jericho Hawkes.” She said softly, replacing Rose beneath her chin. The notes of the previous song were quietly coaxed from her strings, “Jericho Hawkes, the man born on the waves. The man who has known plank, mast, and sail all of his life. The man who feels the call on the wind and the change of the tide in his blood. The man who has never known the warmth of a hearth fire, the breath of the trees, or the longings of a home left behind.”

Jericho offered a faint smirk and blinked into the sky, wondering if he should miss the splintery decks of Bloodtusk or, if it was Star of the Sea or, perhaps, even the labyrinthine streets of Freeport that he should miss when he thought of such things. He’d known all of those places as ‘home’ after one fashion or another as he’d grown but, even at that, ‘home’ was just a word of convenience where applied to those places, wasn’t it?

“I miss these decks when I’m nae aboard ‘em,” he almost whispered after a moment, trying not to drown out the soft notes Willow had begun to play, “I long fer th’ sea when I been too long ashore…” His cinnamon eyes ticked to her face, then; “I a’times feel lost wi’out Khash… an’ yerself…”

“There are those who say that home is where ever you hang your hat,” she said, smirking at him. She played a few more bars before continuing, “Then there are those romantics who say that home is where your heart is. So tell me, Jericho, where does your heart lie, hmm? On the waves, on these decks, or with those whom you care for?”

“C’n it nae be wit’ all three,” Jericho asked, then, “more’n not, it’s all one in th’ same tae me, aye?”
Her song changed immediately; the notes conveyed longing, but a different longing. As the Smuggler’s Moon broke the waves, the melody seemed to compliment their sound rather than be above it.

~If there's one thing in my life that's missing
It's the time that I spend alone
Sailing on the cool and bright clear water
Lots of those friendly people
And they're showing me ways to go
And I never want to lose their inspiration
It's time for a cool change
I know that it's time for a cool change
Now that my life is so prearranged
I know that it's time for a cool change

Well I was born in the sign of water
And it's there that I feel my best
The albatross and the whales they are my brothers
It's kind of a special feeling
When you're out on the sea alone
Staring at the full moon, like a lover
Time for a cool change
I know that it's time for a cool change
Now that my life is so prearranged
I know that it's time for a cool change

I've never been romantic
And sometimes I don't care
I know it may sound selfish
But let me breathe the air
Let me breathe the air...

If there's one thing in my life that's missing
It's the time that I spend alone
Sailing on the cool and bright clear water
It's kind of a special feeling
When you're out on the sea alone
Staring at the full moon, like a lover

Time for a cool change
I know that it's time for a cool change
Now that my life is so prearranged
I know that it's time for a cool change.~

Jericho had allowed his eyes to be lulled shut as Willow sang; her voice and her playing mingling with his thoughts and, he imagined, helping to disentangle them… laying them neatly out much like he had seen notes arranged on the staves of the “sheet music” she had shown him once…

“Aye,” he smiled, not opening his eyes even when Willow’s voice subsided, “A’ways a change blowin’ out here, innit?” The Captain yawned, then, and shifted a bit atop the crate, slipping his hands behind his head as a makeshift pillow… “An’ where th’ change blows the Moon goes, twould seem, eh?

Thank’ee fer the song, Will,” he said from behind another yawn, one eye opening for an instant to peer up at the shanty-singer, again, “I reckon twere jus’ wha I needed tae put me back on course, aye? An’,” he smiled again as that eye closed once more, “I reckon ye knew it afore I did...

Heh,” he chuckled sleepily, “Does me heart lie on th’ waves, on these decks, er wit’ them I care fer, she asks… Right now, Saercyn Willow, me heart lies no place but here aside ye…”

She smiled softly, but said nothing. She shut Rose in her case for the night and trailed her fingers across his bearded face. The half elf remained for a little while listening to Jericho's deep breaths before retiring below deck.

((OOC: The above post was a collaborative effort, brought to you by Eol Fefalas, Chessicfayth, Celeste, Enya, and the Little River Band. Next post from Jericho will be "in port"...))

Posted on 2011-09-08 at 18:53:14.

Topic: The Return of the Original Palassassin
Subject: Yup...

...not only is Ryst the "original palassassin" he's also the "original smite magnet"...

Not sure why exactly, but he always loveded some smites.

Posted on 2011-09-08 at 18:35:17.

Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: And how!

Lovely post, Celeste!

Lovin' Megs, as well...

Posted on 2011-09-08 at 16:48:10.

Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: Thanks, again... glad that everyone is enjoying the pics and the posts and the potential of what we've got going, here.

Speaking of potential... got a PM from Haru, last night, with a bit of a background for his character... went ahead and added that to the Jean Gusto entry in the Cast and Crew thread... This guy should prove interesting.

Posted on 2011-09-08 at 14:39:42.

Topic: Last one to post wins - Part II
Subject: So that...

...the devil din't getcha!


Ummmm... Johnnie wins... a shiny fiddle made of gold, even.

Posted on 2011-09-08 at 14:26:40.

Topic: The Return of the Original Palassassin
Subject: Yeah, buddy!

It has been quite a while.

Good to see you back around, though!

Posted on 2011-09-07 at 20:45:59.

Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: LOL @ Alacrity

Yeah... the perils of facebook is that it scales the pics way down and some of the detail gets lost... of course, before I started putting color to this one, the wife made some sort f comment about how "that's a reeeeaallly short dress she's wearing," so I guess it'd be an easy thing to overlook... if one was so inclined...

*inclines... over looks...*

Thanks for the comments and kind words, folks.

*wanders off humming "Smuggler's Blues"*

Posted on 2011-09-07 at 18:06:06.

Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: *grins*

Glad you like it...

I'm hoping to get sketches done for the entire cast and crew, actually... Jericho, Davi, and Willow were all fairly close to done before we opened this up... Khash is coming right along (he was in rough pencils for quite a while, too, before this game got fired up and I dug the sketches out) so I should have him finished up very soon... I've got Lyri and Vleryn in the works (still at the "rough pencils" stage) and a set of blocky circles and scribbles that will transform into Askurt, too... then there's a doodly concept thing on some meeting minutes that I think might serve as an inspiration for Jean Gusto...

What can i say... you people have inspired me, here.

Posted on 2011-09-07 at 17:22:36.

Topic: Good morning Red Dragon Inn! Or is it Evening? I am never really sure!
Subject: Vorpal beans...

... the dinner gassy enough to take the head off a jabberwocky!

Posted on 2011-09-07 at 17:05:12.

Topic: Distracted by Reality
Subject: Priorities, my friend...

...ya gotta have 'em. And RL is usually best set above the Inn in presidence, sad as it is to say.

Best of luck to you in school, this year... and, of course, we'll be right here waiting for you when you stagger in at the end of the week.

Posted on 2011-09-07 at 13:51:57.

Topic: Good morning Red Dragon Inn! Or is it Evening? I am never really sure!
Subject: Cohoots!

They's in cohoots, I says!

Plottin' against us... scheming to leave us without keys and wearing mismatched socks!

Posted on 2011-09-07 at 13:33:12.

Topic: Good morning Red Dragon Inn! Or is it Evening? I am never really sure!
Subject: I hate it when that happens!

But, when nobody else will fess up, I've resorted to blaming "the little blue guys." *nods*

Noooo... not Smurfs... they're not that little...

I'm talking about the "little blue guys" that show up in that space of time in between minutes and replace everything with exact duplicates... Ever torn your house apart looking for your keys, knowing that you left them on your dresser? You look in cupboards and drawers that haven't been opened since Christmas... you look under furniture in rooms you weren't even in since you last saw your keys... I mean you come this close to going nuts searching for those things... and then you find them right there on the dresser where you know you left them in the first place? That's the "little blue guys"...

There's so much stuff that they have to replace with exact duplicates that, sometimes, they don't always get it right, so, you end up with "lost" car keys, socks that go into the dryer but never come out... don't see why it's possible that they forgot to turn on the alarm clocks when they replaced those... *shrugs*

Anyway... You're up... you're here... it's a glorious (albeit somewhat soggy) day! Wooooohooooo!!!

Posted on 2011-09-07 at 12:40:08.

Topic: Smuggler's Moon Q&A
Subject: Saercyn Willow - Pix

And, here's my vision of Willow, more or less...

...This one could use a bit more shading, perhaps, but I figured I'd stop before I overworked it, eh?

Enjoy... Khash is next, I believe.

Posted on 2011-09-07 at 10:49:23.

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