Sunday, November 22, 2009

RP: Out of the Frying Pan Pt. 2

Out of the Frying Pan Pt. 2
Author: Xionn

"Skelton's over an hour late Captain, how much longer are we going to wait?" Lafoot was sifting through papers attached to a clipboard, most of which were notes from Rafegar about the location of cursed troll treasure. "We didn't wait near as long as this for Old Mustardbeard."

Xionn took a long drag on his cigarette, leaning of the railing of the ship. They were currently docked in Stormwind. Only a single moon hung in the sky like a lonely Winter Veil ornament, the other hiding somewhere over the horizon. "I know how long we been waitin', Lafoot. What ye don' realize 's th'value o' information 'n patience." There was a long silence. John waited expectantly for Xionn to explain. He didn't.

"...I don't follow, Captain."

"Word is, major raid's gone down on tha blokes what calls themselves the Riders. Every lowlife in th'city's all giddy. Gettin' ready t'play their 'ands."

Lafoot nodded. "I follow ye so far. You're not planning on raiding them too, are you?"

"Neptulon no, Lafoot. Y've got sugarcane fer brains." Xionn turned around on his heel, stubbing his cigarette out on Lafoot's surcoat. John winced, despite the layers of clothing. "All'a th'goods 'ave been confiscated already. Anythin' valuable, both illegal 'n legal's in th'pockets o' Stormwind's blue 'n gold. That is t'say, th' nobles. Word is 'few crates of 'rathi Gold made it inta the'r 'ands as well."

"So... we're going to steal from the King himself, is what you're saying?"

"King prolly don' know shat 'bout this. Nay, yer goin' ta take Jerijah, clean 'im up, an' botha ye 're goin' t'look like presentable blue 'n gold. Accents 'n all. Only yer paper's goin' t'list ye 's Shaw's men. Only Shaw'n 'is two lapdogs'd know the dif'rence. Git those goods onta th'ship."

Lafoot looked concerned, although his features were mostly hidden by the shadows cast by the sails. "And what about the troll treasure? Brother Sul's Cargo?"

"We sail 'fore th' next moon, Lafoot. Troll treasure ain't goin' naywhere, 'n Sul's men don' need us fer 'few days yet."

"And what about the rest of us?" Alejandra's voice came from just under the stairs on the deck below. She quickly ascended them and stood beside John. "I'm not taking a pay cut 'cause I didn't get t'do anything."

"I was gettin' t'ye." Xionn chuckled quietly. "More'n likely, Skelton's holed up somewhere safe, 'r in the Stocks 'erself. Given 'er tendency t' 'ang round with this crowd, 'd wager th' latter."

Alejandra snorted. "So I'm breaking Skelton out? Fan-fuckin'-tastic."

"Not just Skelton, Alej. Yer doin' a large scale jailbreak. Wouldn' want th' higher ups t'think Skelton's important 'r anythin' like that. An' if Skelton's nay there, jailbreak's a good distraction fer Lafoot anyways."

"And if I refuse?"

The sails cast shadows on Xionn's face as well, but there was just enough moonglow to make his wide, malicious grin stand out. "There're worse things'n helpin' a matey y'dun like, Alej."

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