Edward an Imperial's Story, Coward, bounder, thief, murderer...and hero? Options

[Rachel the Breton]

Quite right, treydog...it was none other than the good Grandmaster himself. I thought, upon reflection, it seemed a little...tame for a missive penned by Friar Jauffre.

Those were some of my favorite lines, too, treydog...I always imagine Edward's views of the criminal classes being somewhat like our romanticized view of medieval knights (except focusing on the evil instead of good )...totally skewed by fond memory/imagination, and not really remotely accurate, but hard to shake. Of course, in Edward's case, he imagines a sort of anti-knight, lol, but that's Edward.

mALX: lol, I love the door too...I try to keep cultural references out, lol, but sometimes they creep in...especially LotR ones.



The gods help them whose servants help them.

-- Scripture of the Square Root of Eighty-One, translation funded by the Coalition of the Noble Born


Chapter Twenty-Four



Edward stirred groggily. The unpleasant sensation of rocking, back and forth, back and forth, was interrupting his dream -- and it was too beautiful a dream to be interrupted!

There he was, atop a glorious mountain of gold, reaching forward, forward, forward, just about to seize the largest diamond he had ever seen; and then he would rock backwards, just out of reach. Barely catching his balance before he tumbled down the mountainside -- which seemed to grow steeper with every rocking movement -- he would just steady himself before tumbling forward, just past the diamond. Again, he would be just out of reach of the gem, and would have only enough time to steady himself before he'd plunge backwards.

Finally, unwillingly, angrily, he opened one eye, and then another. As the shadows of dreamland fled, brilliant sunlight assailed his eyes. He blinked rapidly, trying to remember where he was. The last thing he could remember was imbibing an unbelievable amount of really bad wine and beer, and eating more than a little food, before deciding to lay down for just a moment to rest. It had been late in the afternoon then, with dusk settling in on the land.

"Land!" he thought. "That's right -- I'm not on land, I'm on that ship, the Floated Bloat...Boated Foat...Bloated..." His mind froze, mid-thought. The rocking -- it wasn't just in his dream! He really was rocking back and forth; or, rather, he wasn't rocking, but the boat was rocking!

He blinked in amazement. There must be a terrible storm outside, for the boat to be rocking that hard in port!

He frowned. No, it couldn't be storming out -- there was far too much sunlight streaming into his window for there to be a storm. He knit his eyebrows in concentration. If the boat was rocking, and it wasn't because of a storm, what did that mean?

He yelped in fear as the answer struck him. "Ye gods! We've set sail! Nobody told me?! Where are we headed? Will I ever get back? What's going on?" Then, a more terrible thought struck him. "What if...they deliberately didn't tell me? What if they're slavers, and they plan on selling me for a fortune on some distant shore? Is that why they offered me a room, and so much alcohol? To intoxicate me, so that they could get me away silently?" His face grew pallid. "Slavers can probably sum people up easily...they probably realized that they had a goldmine in me...after all, my skills and brilliance would be perfectly suited for anything...scholar, warrior, inventor, gladiator, anything." His train of thought shifted. "Or...or they could be taking me to some far away, exotic land, where they'll sell me to an empress or sultaness, who has been looking for a man like me for years!" His mind filled with images of his marriage to a rich and powerful -- not to mention insanely beautiful -- woman, who had searched the entire globe before finding someone good enough to marry, and make the emperor or sultan of her kingdom -- that someone being him, of course. "Well," he thought, "this might not be too bad after all...I could deal with ruling an empire or a sultanate...is that a word? Well, whatever...and, of course, it wouldn't hurt to have a gorgeous, brilliant woman absolutely, madly in love with me...particularly when she's deliciously rich...and powerful..." He smiled at the idea. He was a sort of Joseph, he decided, except that he wasn't stupid enough to refuse a beautiful woman, her powerful empire, and a life of ease and luxury. Yes, he had certainly been in worse predicaments, he concluded.

A loud, brusque thumping on the passage near his door roused him from his reverie. Starting, he crept to his door, wincing as he did so -- he still smarted from his run in with the inn door the day before. He listened for a moment and, hearing nothing, opened the door a sliver. Peering outside, he recoiled in fright as a man outside his door started in surprise. Here was a man he had never seen before!

In unison, both men asked, "Who are you?!"

"I'm Edward," Edward answered, "and I'm sleeping at the inn!"

"I'm Lynch," the other man replied, "and I'm going to lynch you!"

While the Nord laughed at his own joke, Edward thought fast, and slammed his door shut, jamming the bolt in place. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!" he cursed. "They're going to kill me, not sell me to a gorgeous Sultaness to become a rich, powerful and adored Sultan!"

Lynch, meanwhile, was banging at the door, demanding, "Come out, you coward! Come out and get what's coming to you!"

"Why do you want to kill me?!" Edward shouted back. "I don't even know you! I have no idea how we even got afloat! I'm innocent!"

"We're afloat because we set the ship afloat -- and by we, I mean me and the other Blackwater Brigands. And innocence is no excuse -- you're a dead man! And after I finish you, I'm going to finish the stupid orc we locked up!" With this, the Nord renewed his assault on the door.

Edward flinched as every blow landed. The door was strong, but not that strong. It would break soon, and then he -- slightly hung over and completely unarmed -- would have to fight a fully armed brigand. Then, an idea hit him.

Creeping toward the door, cringing every time the wood shivered with a new blow, he seized the handle and the bolt; then, in one fluid movement, he pulled the bolt back and turned the handle just as a new kick was sent forward. Lynch, not meeting with the resistance that he had anticipated, tumbled forward and into the room.

At the same time, Edward sprung forward, and pulled the door closed behind him. Now, holding the handle firmly and bracing himself with his feet against the door jam, he waited for the Nord to attempt to leave the room. He didn't wait long; in an instant, he felt a strong pull from inside. But Edward was ready, and using his legs as much as his arms, he managed to put up a good fight for several minutes.

However, the Nord was considerably stronger than he was, and, even though Edward was fighting for his life, eventually his strength succumbed. His hands slipped from the handle, the door went flying backwards, and he careened into the floor with a horrifically painful crash. Expecting his opponent to rush out and murder him at any moment, Edward lay in place, his eyes closed, grimacing and praying to all the gods he didn't believe in for some sort of miraculous intervention. He promised everything he could think of, from eternal servitude to the sacrifice of his first born children if only they would spare him.

As he lay there, inwardly groveling and praying, it seemed that an eternity of time passed. He had always heard that time stood still when you knew you were about to die, but he honestly never expected it to take this long. In fact, laying in place, aching from his fall, his eyes pressed tightly shut, Edward almost began to wish that his killer would hurry up and finish the job, rather than leaving him in this uncomfortable limbo.

The thump of a heavy footfall overhead, sounding very much in real time, startled Edward, and he opened his eyes. Amazed that there was no sword wielding murderer directly over him, Edward blinked. Surely, this hadn't been a dream, had it? Was he still in his bed, where he had laid down the night before?

He looked around. No, he wasn't in his bed, and, no, this hadn't been a dream. He was lying on his back in a hallway, staring up at the ceiling above, and the door to his room lay in front of him. Cautiously, fearfully, he raised himself upward, looking for his would-be murderer.

Not seeing him immediately, he drew himself up further still. Then, he saw the man. He was lying in a heap opposite him, blood pouring from his head. Over his body, there was a telling patch of red on the corner of the window frame.

Edward stood now, and walked carefully toward the body. "Are you dead?" he asked, not entirely expecting an answer. When none came, he kicked the body, just to make sure. It didn't move. Edward smiled. "Yup." With this, he set about looting the corpse. After all, he needed a weapon; plus, this guy's clothes were pretty nice, so he likely had some money on him, he reasoned.

This post has been edited by Rachel the Breton: Sep 12 2010, 09:13 PM

[Rachel the Breton]

News flash from the Imperial Docks!
In a shocking bit of news, the well known inn, the Floating Bloat, has vanished from harbor! As of this writing, the cause of this disappearance is unknown, although speculation has reached this correspondent that an unknown man was seen sitting on the stoop outside the inn door the evening of the vanishing, behaving in a sullen, peculiar manner. Whether this man is involved in the disappearance or not is purely a matter of speculation, but the City Watch has circulated a description of him in hopes of locating him for questioning. He is described as being sulky, with baby-like features, and a deviant air. If you see this man, please alert the nearest officer.
-- Black Horse Courier, Special News Bulletin

Chapter Twenty-Five

After thoroughly looting Lynch's corpse -- which was not a particularly challenging job, since he only had a sword, a key and a few gold on him -- Edward had managed, with much difficulty, to shove his body underneath the bed. "Good thing he's dead," he thought, surveying his handiwork, "because I heard things snapping as I was doing that..." Standing, he felt pain shoot through his body. "Oh gods," he groaned. "It was me that was snapping??"

Slowly, painfully, straightening out, Edward felt anger surge through him. This was ridiculous! The only reason that he was even in this damned floating inn was because of that stupid orc smashing a door into him; now he faced death at the hands of a band of murderous brigands, for gods know what! He paused as these thoughts ran through his mind "That stupid orc!" he repeated. "That's right! He's onboard, and alive! Lynch said he was going to kill him after he killed me, so he can't be dead yet!" Edward smiled. "All I have to do is let that idiot out, and he can take care of the rest of these pirates, and I can go home!" His smile had turned into a broad grin, and he turned for the door eager to find and free the orc. But he stopped short.

"Wait a minute," he thought. "I might as well see if there's anything worth stealing, since I'm here...now that my valet is a member of the thieves guild, he can sell it for me...and, anyway, after all I've suffered, I'm entitled to a little restitution, aren't I?" With this justification in mind, Edward began to search the room for valuables.

In a few moments, he stopped disgustedly. The room was quite bare, with only a few pieces of well worn furniture -- all too large to lift, much less carry -- and an old clay pot. "Well," he thought hesitantly, surveying the pot, "I suppose it might be worth something, especially if I cleaned it up." It seemed an injustice to leave the room without at least taking something, so he at last decided on taking the pot.

Lifting it, he observed that there was something inside it. Peering into the pot, he saw a small bag of rough cloth. "Hmm..." he thought, taking out the bag and opening it. His eyes bulged as he did so, and he laughed with glee. There, inside that shabby bag, was a handful of beautiful, sparkling gems!

Pocketing the jewels, and still determined not to let his pot go, Edward surveyed the room for some means of carrying his pot -- and anything else that he might pick up along the way. At first, he found nothing, but eventually his eyes lit upon the worn pillow and its case. His gleeful smile returning, Edward ripped the pillow out of the case and then, reverently, placed his first stolen item -- an old, shabby pot -- inside the case. He then tied the pillow case to his belt, exited his room, and shut the door behind him.

Not knowing how many other brigands there might be on the level that he was on -- but imagining that it was unlikely that there were any more, as no one had come to aid Lynch despite the ruckus he'd made -- he explored carefully, keeping a constant eye out for loot, but finding little that even he could justify lugging about with him.

At last, however, he found the orc's prison.

"It's you!" Graman shouted, exuberantly. "We're saved!"

Despite all the aggravation he had felt at this orc, Graman's tone managed to placate him somewhat. "Well," he said, "these brigands are mad if they think they can take me down without a fight!"

Graman nodded vigorously. "Quite right!"

"Now," Edward declared grandly, "I suppose we'd better get you out of this cage!"
The orc nodded again, saying, "Yes, the guard, Lynch he calls himself, has the key."
Edward frowned, feeling rather disappointed by the revelation; he had hoped that the key he'd found would open some amazing treasure, not just the key to the cage where the dumb orc was being held. Sighing, he said, "Not anymore."
"You mean, you already took him out?" Graman asked, clearly impressed.
"Of course," Edward returned haughtily.

This post has been edited by Rachel the Breton: Sep 13 2010, 12:03 AM

[treydog]

He is described as being sulky, with baby-like features, and a deviant air.

Yup, that’s Edward. I’d know him anywhere.

Until mALX pointed out, I had forgotten Edward's issue with doors- The DB hideout, the Floating Bloatery (twice!)- and there will probably be more. Of course, he has issues with practically all inanimate (as well as animate) objects- so it really isn't a surprise.

And his enslavement fantasy had me giggling- again.

And then Edward's obsession with his first stolen item.

[Rachel the Breton]

And then Edward's obsession with his first stolen item.

LOL, and what a "tragic" end it comes to, too. Glad you're enjoying the story again!!


Pirates roam the high seas,
Bandits haunt the lonely paths,
Assassins traverse the quiet halls,
And fools infest the forsaken empire.
-- Lament of the Ninth, decrying the desolation of the empire after his demise

Chapter Twenty-Six

Edward crept along, cringing every time his already heavy loot bag impacted with a wall, or a crate, or the floor. Despite the fact that he only had managed to find a few items, they were all large, and mostly heavy pottery -- and they made a fair amount of noise when bumped.

"Damn that orc!" he thought to himself. "He should be the one doing this, not me!" His happy plan of Graman slaying the remainder of the pirates whilst he hid safely in the background had vanished after he freed the orc, and saw that his ally had been badly wounded in the original scuffle with the brigands. So badly wounded, in fact, that he could not fight them a second time.

"I'll be able to bring the ship back to harbor," he'd said, "but I'm afraid I won't be able to help you take care of them."

"Damn him!" Edward cursed again. "If only they killed the honoured user the first time!" Then, he checked himself. "Except that I need him to get home...that is, if I survive this...which I probably won't anyway." He frowned darkly. "If they do kill me, I hope they get that damned orc afterwards!"

Creeping up a ladder, Edward stopped as one of the pots in his pillowcase hit particularly loudly against the rungs. Sighing, he pulled himself up carefully, hid behind a crate, and sifted through his bag. He would have to get rid of that pot, he determined sadly, or else he would certainly get caught. Seeing the offending piece of pottery, he pulled it out. And then froze.

Footsteps were coming his way. He didn't dare to move, except to hunker down lower, so that he would be completely hidden behind the crates. A head came into view, and then a body. Edward grew still, not even daring to breathe now. Still the figure approached, stopping only when it was nearly on top of him, directly on the other side of the pile of crates. Edward was still holding his breath.

The figure turned, but stood still to survey the passage. Edward tried to concentrate on the blood coursing through his veins, and not his ever more desperate need of fresh oxygen. Still the figure did not budge.

Finally, his vision blurring and his lungs readying to explode, Edward did the only thing he could think of. He jumped upwards, his grip tightening on the pot he held, and brought said pottery into sharp contact with the brigand's skull; then he collapsed downwards, inhaling and exhaling deeply several times.

He had been so desperate for air that he had not noticed the pirate collapse, and he was only vaguely aware of the fact that he was not already dead at the hands of a furious killer. Only when he had entirely regained his breath did he become aware of the fact that his plan had, in fact succeeded, and that his foe was felled.

Then, he groaned despondently. "My pot!" he murmured. "It's completely shattered!"

Edward spent several minutes pouring over the shards of pottery, wracking his brain for various means of putting them back together, but he eventually abandoned the scheme. There were too many pieces, he decided, and, even if he could glue them back together, there was no way he could conceal the breakage, not even by painting over it. "No," he thought dejectedly, "I'll just have to call it a loss."

With this mournful resolution made, Edward continued on his way to the upper deck. Once there, he looked around. Everything was surprisingly quiet. Too quiet, considering that they were at sea. "Ye gods!" he exclaimed out loud. "Who is manning this darn ship?!"

As if in answer to his question, a sound issued forth from the captain's cabin. The next moment, the door opened and a woman stepped out. Edward stared, enchanted. Despite the fact that she was clad in full body armor, Edward was immediately impressed by her beauty. "Hello gorgeous!" was all he could think of to say, and, judging by the fact that she was drawing her sword and approaching in a very menacing manner, it hardly seemed appropriate.

This post has been edited by Rachel the Breton: Sep 13 2010, 12:36 AM

[haute ecole rider]

I happen to be familiar with your posting tendencies, so I waited to make sure you were done posting before commenting on the latest group of installments.

The whole Floated Boat thing was hilarious. Even more so considering this forum's tendency to replace a certain 'A' word with boat had me substituting everywhere! Especially in these passages:

He really was rocking back and forth; or, rather, he wasn't rocking, but the boat was rocking!

He blinked in amazement. There must be a terrible storm outside, for the boat to be rocking that hard in port!

He frowned. No, it couldn't be storming out -- there was far too much sunlight streaming into his window for there to be a storm. He knit his eyebrows in concentration. If the boat was rocking, and it wasn't because of a storm, what did that mean?

I really enjoyed how he took down each of the brigands - not much different from my PC the first time I played that quest!

[D.Foxy]

It is obvious that hautee has been infected by the Foxy disease.

[treydog]

The sad loss of Edward's first "trophy." (Sniffle). But it was in a worthy cause, seeing as that useless, wounded Orc decided to sit out this adventure and leave all the "work" to Edward.

"Hello gorgeous!" was all he could think of to say, and, judging by the fact that she was drawing her sword and approaching in a very menacing manner, it hardly seemed appropriate.

I just hate it when that happens... Wait, never mind.

Now to wait and see if Edward can get his floating, bloated- um -boat back to the Imperial City. Of course, the ship seems to be- ah, "unmanned" at the moment, seeing as the only occupants are an Orc, a woman- and Edward.

[D.Foxy]

Trey!

Are you casting doubt on the masculityy of....the ORC????

[haute ecole rider]

Trey!

Are you casting doubt on the masculityy of....the ORC????

If he's wearing a russet felt outfit, heck YES!

[mALX]

Sorry it took so long Rachel, RL has run me ragged for two days, lol. OMG, Lynch !!! SPEW !!!!!!

[Rachel the Breton]

Hi all, thanks for the comments.

@treydog: " The sad loss of Edward's first "trophy." (Sniffle). But it was in a worthy cause, seeing as that useless, wounded Orc decided to sit out this adventure and leave all the "work" to Edward."

LOL, quite right -- poor Edward, having to pick up the slack for the no-good blackguard.

@DFoxy: LOL.

@mALX: No worries -- hope all is going well.

@haute ecole rider: LOL! Oh dear, sometimes the auto censors create more trouble than they solve.



Dear Armand,

I'm writing to caution you in regards to the latest addition to our guild, a brilliant, loyal young man who you will meet shortly. My reason for cautioning you, however, is that he is currently employed as a valet for a pompous, ridiculous fool. Our new initiate's sense of loyalty to his wastrel of an employer may prevent him from seeing this, but I see it plainly. Please keep this in mind, should our new guild mate make any recommendations about his employer.

Yours in stealth,

The Gray Fox

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Edward wasn't quite sure what to do. Here was a woman -- a beautiful woman, who his first thought had been to ask out! -- charging at him, ready to kill. What did he do? He hadn't so much as opened his mouth to speak to her yet, and she already wanted to kill him! What should he do? How should he respond?

Now, to be fair, his hesitancy wasn't borne of a misplaced sense of chivalry -- or chivalry at all; rather, his hesitancy came of a paralyzing fear. His attacker's cold, unruffled air seemed to freeze his marrow, and he was fixed to the spot where he stood, unable to move to defend himself or even escape the onslaught.

Most opportunely, however, a voice called out, "Hold, you there!"

It was the brigand's turn to freeze, and just before her blade met with Edward's body.

Edward was so dazed that he hardly heard the thumping behind him or noticed the orc come hobbling up, armored and wielding a heavy sword; likewise, Ormil's entrance mostly passed him by. He was too busy staring at the sword mere inches from his face to notice much else.

"You didn't think those bonds would hold me, did you?" Ormil demanded.

"Or those wounds slow me down?" Graman asked.

"My band!" the brigand exclaimed. "Where are they?!"

"Dead!" Edward declared, finding his voice -- and also his legs, for he stepped back, out of reach of her blade, very quickly. "I killed them!"

The brigand's eyes bulged, and she shot angry glances around her. Sensing that she was hopelessly outnumbered, however, she said, "Are you going to kill me?"

Edward, furious at her and her band's treatment of him, was about to scream, "Yes!" But, before he was able to speak, Ormil replied. "Not if you cooperate...hand over your sword, and we'll deliver you to the Imperial Watch."

The woman scoffed, but did as she was told. Ormil led her to the same cell in which Graman had been imprisoned, while Edward turned to the orc. "Who the heck are these people? And why did they hijack our ship?"

Graman sighed. "Well," he said, "business was not going so well for our inn...so Ormil made up a story about having a fantastic treasure on board to attract patrons...these fools decided to hijack the ship in order to search it without interruption."

Edward's eyes gleamed. "Fantastic treasure?" he repeated.

"Yes," Graman nodded. "It was a stupid story, but, apparently, some people are dumb enough to fall for anything."

Edward smiled inwardly, but changed the topic. "Well, to be perfectly frank with you, when I saw that the ship was afloat, I figured that you and Ormil must be some sort of slavers, who had lured me on board so that you could sell me at some foreign port."

The orc stared at him.

Edward shrugged, somewhat abashed; he thought it best to leave out the bit of his reverie dealing with being sold to an sultaness, becoming a sultan, and all that. "Well, you never know..." Then, clearing his throat, he said, "Aren't you supposed to be manning this stupid ship? I don't want to spend the rest of my life on a Floated Bloat!"

Graman stared at him for a moment, and then nodded. "Right you are," he said.

Edward, meanwhile smiled inwardly. "That orc can say what he likes," he thought, "but he can't pull the wool over my eyes...there's treasure on this ship, and a lot of it! And I'm going to be the one to find it!"

This post has been edited by Rachel the Breton: Sep 19 2010, 04:18 PM

[Rachel the Breton]

Have the gods succumbed to senility,
To promote and protect such inability?
Have the planets strayed from their orbits,
To favor and empower such a king of nitwits?
-- Ode to Edward, II


Chapter Twenty-Eight

By time the Bloated Float pulled into harbor, Edward was exhausted and not a little cranky. His search efforts had been futile, of course, because, as Graman had said, the treasure for which he searched didn't exist. Rather than admitting this to himself, however, Edward concluded that the pirates must have already found it, and found a way to get it off ship.


Armil offered to let him spend another evening in the inn, but he quickly refused. There was no way that he wanted to spend an evening in the room where someone had been killed, nor did he want to risk waking up and finding that he was afloat again. "Henceforth," he determined, "I sleep on land, and land only!"
So, exhausted, ornery, unprepared, and lugging around a pillow case containing a few old pieces of pottery, two skeins of yarn, a pair of shears and some torches, Edward set forth for the Marie Elena.
When he arrived at the ship, it was dark. There were a few torches lighting the main deck, which was patrolled by a gang of none-too-friendly looking pirates.


Edward found a barrel on a pier opposite the ship, and sat down to rest and think. How was he going to get onto this ship? The main entrance didn't look like a very good one...if the brigand gal he'd run into earlier had been mean, these charmers put her to shame; hard, grizzled men and a fearsome chieftain, these seemed like the last people Edward wanted to run into. There was, interestingly enough, a stack of crates near the gangway that Edward suspected were meant to be loaded into the ship. It wouldn't be too difficult, he mused, to sneak over there, pry open a crate, and jump inside. That way, he could stowaway onto the ship, and then take the Captain by surprise.

"No, they'd probably expect something like that," Edward decided, dismissing the idea. "I have to do something bold, something unexpected, something glorious and worthy of me!" He paused his mental monologue, and then added, "And something that won't get me killed."


His brow creased in thought as he surveyed the ship again. He had already dismissed the only two means of entrance...so how on earth was he going to get in?! Then his eyes lit up. On the opposite side of the ship was a balcony -- with a door that had to lead to the Captain's cabin; and it looked like it was within jumping distance.

His eyes aglow with excitement, Edward headed to the nearest point of the pier opposite the captain's quarters. Mounting the ledge, he shifted his pillow case of worthless treasures to one side, inhaled deeply, exhaled, inhaled again, and then leaped forward.


No sooner than had he left solid ground did he regret his action; all at once the brilliance of his strategy was replaced in his mind with a surety that he would miss the balcony and end up in the harbor below, dragged down, down, down by the weight of his weaponry, armor and loot bag.

Even as visions of drowning flooded his senses, Edward felt his right knee impact sharply with the ship's stern, and his left elbow smash into the balcony. "Gods damn it!" he cursed, clasping onto the balcony for dear life with his right arm. "Why the Oblivion do they call it the 'funny bone'?!"

Wheezing in agony, he managed to make some use of his left arm, and swing it over the balcony. With both arms thus straddling the ship, he was, with difficulty, able to pull himself over the side of the rail and onto the ship. He promptly sat down to recover from his success.


Fifteen minutes later, still sore but somewhat more collected, he tried the door to the captain's cabin. It was locked. By now, his temper was flaring, and he loosed a torrent of cuss words at his intended victim, finishing with, "Why can't the no-good SOB just get what's coming to him, without making it so damned difficult for me?"

Kicking at nothing in particular in frustration, Edward lurched forward as his foot caught on the "Unwelcome" mat outside the captain's door. He careened into the door, barely having time to shield his face with his hands and thereby prevent a face-to-portal collision. Straightening himself up, he kicked again, but this time with a definite target in mind. "Stupid mat!" he cursed, flinging the mat into the balcony railing.

All at once he paused, glancing from the mat to the planks at his feet. He had noted a glint, very faint in the torch light, but a glint nonetheless. "Did someone drop a coin?" he thought greedily as he bent down to find the source of his observation.

He frowned, his hand coming in contact with a long, skinny metal object. "A key?" he thought disgustedly, lifting the object to examine it. Sure enough, it was a key. Edward sighed a long, unhappy sigh. Of all the luck...not only was he stuck outside with no chance to get inside, but even his hope at a meager conciliatory coin had proved vain. He lifted the key, intending to chuck it into the water, but froze. "Wait a minute!" he thought. "What if this is the key to the captain's door?"


With hands so eager that they trembled, he tried to insert the key; it bounced off the lock, it was so large.

"Damn!" he thought. "That's not it either." Again, he readied to chuck the key into the sea, and again stopped. "Oh...I had it backwards," he realized, flushing a little as he did so. "No wonder it couldn't even go in..." He sighed, flipped the key around, and tried again.

This time, much to his relief, it fit perfectly. Turning the key, he heard the door unlock.

[Rachel the Breton]

Wreaking havoc where he goes,
Leaving destruction in his wake,
Making trouble for those he knows,
How much more can the empire take?
-- Musings of the Ninth

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Edward was inside the captain's quarters, and the captain was nowhere to be seen. Truth to be told, Edward was strangely relieved. He still wasn't sure how he was going to kill the dreaded pirate, and he explained away his relief at not finding him around by saying that the pirate's absence gave him an opportunity to plan his attack.

These ideas were soon pushed from Edward's mind, however, as he looked around the cabin he'd entered. His eyes sparkled as he saw the finely laid out table, and its ornate silverware. "Ye gods!" he thought, "I'm rich!"

Hastening to the table, he proceeded to scoop all the silverware and fine plates he saw into his pillow case. Then he proceeded to loot the foods throughout the cabin, noting with particular glee two fine bottles of wine. He also noted a book, "The Fall of the Snow Prince"; he considered taking this, but decided against it. "Books are worthless anyway."

Then he stopped, his eyes resting on a small but charming plant, that he'd heard called Nirnroot. "Sooooo pretty," he thought, heading toward it. "Soooooo...pretty!" He reached forward to touch its leaves; they were very soft. He smiled, drawing closer. A delicious aroma, indefinable but something like all the foods that he most liked, assailed his nostrils, and his eyes widened in surprise. Was that smell from that beautiful little plant?

It was! That delightful aroma, reminiscent of all manner of fine delicacies, was emanating from that little Nirnroot! All at once, Edward was moved by an impulse to eat the plant he admired so much.

Without even thinking about it, he seized the stem, uprooted the plant, and proceeded to chew it up and swallow it.

It tasted every bit as good as it looked, and all of a sudden Edward felt very lightheaded. Blinking, he felt himself staggering forward, looking for a seat. He felt strangely weak and tired and sick, but somehow good all the same -- right up until the moment that he collapsed.

Half an hour later, Edward was able to collect himself. The plant, he realized, must have been some sort of poison; Nirnroot, apparently, wasn't very good for you. He sighed.

At that moment, he heard the creak of a bolt on the other side of the room. His heart froze. "It must be the pirate," he thought. "He must be coming back!" Then another thought assailed him. "And he's bound to notice that everything's missing!"

Edward made an instantaneous and desperate decision: he would hide under the pirate's bed. "He'll never think to look there," he thought, scrambling for the bed. Unfortunately, he was too late.
The door opened, and Captain Tussaud entered and spotted him immediately. "Hello!" he cried. "Who in the name of Davy Jones is this?!"

Edward, who was half underneath the bed, pulled his head and shoulders out, stood up sneezing -- Gaston Tussaud apparently was no fan of cleaning under his bed, as there was years worth of dust underneath his -- and stared at the pirate. Then, his courage returned. "Alright Pound, time to meet the Dog!" he declared as threateningly as he could muster. Then he paused. "Wait," he said, "that's wrong...I meant, 'Alright dog, time to meet the pound!'"

Captain Tussaud stared at him blankly for a few moments, and then burst into uproarious laughter.
Edward frowned and flushed. Alright, so he had made a tiny mistake; it wasn't very nice of this stinking pirate to mock him like that...

As if in response to Edward's expression, the pirate laughed even more uproariously, and without ceasing.

"Cut it out already!" Edward demanded after a few minutes of non-stop laughter. "Prepare to meet your doom, pirate scum!"

Although Edward had hardly thought it possible, the pirate's laughter grew in intensity. His dancing eyes were almost buried underneath his cheeks, and his mouth was one gigantic grin.

Just as he had almost lost patience, and was about to attack the other man, Edward started. The pirate's face had gone from ruddy mirth to pallid shock; his hand clutched at his heart, and he stood frozen like a stone for several moments. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell forward with a tremendous thud.

Edward blinked, not quite sure what had happened. Then, slowly, timidly, he approached the pirate, and prodded him with a kick to the shoulders. The mass did not budge, but remained quite still.

"Dear me!" Edward thought. "He's dead! But how?!" Then he remembered how the other man had clutched his heart. "A heart attack?" he wondered, frowning.

At that moment, a colossal banging at the door roused him from his reflections with a start. A gruff voice demanded, "Cap'n? You alright, sir?" Silence followed, and Edward was not sure what to do. Then,

"We're coming in, sir!"

Edward didn't need a second warning. He took to his heels, toppling everything that lay in his path, including the captain's writing table and lit candles, and made his way to the balcony. Shifting his now extraordinarily heavy pillowcase behind him, he made a running leap for the pier.

He landed on the stone with a smash and a rush of agony in his elbows and knees that replaced any memory of the pain he'd felt in leaping onto the ship.

He lay utterly dazed and in a state of semi-consciousness for several minutes. Then, groaning and only vaguely aware of shouts and a peculiar cackling noise behind him, he drew himself up. "It must be almost morning," he observed, noting that the pier was illuminated in a reddish glow. Turning toward the Marie Elena, he was frozen in place as he saw that the entire vessel was engulfed in flames.

[Rachel the Breton]

Of fools and thieves we sings,
Who come and take our things,
Robbing from the beggars and poor,
Always wanting more and more.
-- Imperial City beggars' song, after a recent rash of robberies against the homeless

Chapter Thirty

Edward and his valet had remained in the Imperial City for a few weeks. Ostensibly, this delay was a show of Edward's kindness to his faithful retainer, so that the latter could pursue his thieving missions, but realistically it was a chance for the former to recover from his various injuries.

Which isn't to say, of course, that Edward sat about lazily doing nothing the entire time they were in the city; no indeed! He only spent most of it lazing about; but the few hours a day every couple of days that he felt an urge of ambition (or the pang of jealousy, in comparing his servant's extremely successful endeavors to his own less notable ones), he would try his hand at thieving. So it was that there was not a beggar in the city who had not noticed something missing when he returned to his bedroll; so it was that there was not a church or chapel nearby without a story of something vanishing; so it was that the story of a strange pilgrim who carried a heavy, worn bag and traveled throughout the city leaving a trail of gems and cheap silverware behind him was born.

Near the end of their stay, Edward had learnt that his valet's fence was not in the Imperial City , but in Bruma. This had angered Edward, who had no desire to travel to a hub of barbarians, as he termed the Nord city. This in turn prompted his valet to volunteer to take the goods himself and return in a week's time with their payment.

Edward had approved this solution, and so relinquished his treasure horde -- only after meticulously listing out every item, and preparing a copy of the list for himself and his valet, along with space for his valet to record how much each item had sold for. Then, having only one horse between them, they had had to rent another horse to transport Edward's sizable stash. Edward had grumbled, but eventually forked over the 40 gold necessary for the rental.

Now, six and a half days later, Edward waited eagerly for his valet to return. The minutes seemed to drag by like hours as he awaited the arrival of his horde of gold, but, finally, he saw his valet from his hotel window. Racing down the stairs, two steps at a time, he rushed out to meet the other man.

"You're back!" he shouted exuberantly.

"Yes sir," the valet replied, smiling.

"Excellent, excellent! And how was your journey?" he asked, thinking it best not to appear too terribly eager, despite the fact that he was, in truth, that eager.

"Oh, very good sir. The mountains were a bit of rough going, particularly for the horses...yours especially seemed hardly to be able to move under all your stuff, but he made it eventually. And then we did have a run-in with wolves as we neared the Jerall mountains, but that wasn't as exciting as our run-in with the bandits. You'll never believe what happened, but -"

"Yes, yes," Edward interrupted, unable to contain himself any longer. "I don't care about any of that. I just want to know about my loot!"

The valet cleared his throat, looked rather uncomfortable, and declared, "We'd better go in before discussing that, sir."

Edward protested, but the other man was unmovable, so at last he assented, complaining all the while. Once seated in their quarters at the inn, Edward repeated his query. "So, what about my loot? How much did I make?"

"Well, sir, I'm afraid that didn't turn out so well," the valet returned.

"Didn't turn out so well??" Edward demanded, his eyes coloring in suspicion. "What do you mean?"

"Well, sir, your haul didn't sell for as much as...well, as much as we might hope."

Edward's suspicion was now full blown; he was sure that his valet had either been gypped by a conniving fence, or was attempting to gyp him of his well deserved profits. "How much is 'not as much'?"

"Well, sir," the valet replied, shifting very uncomfortably in his seat, "35 gold."

Edward's eyes nearly bulged out of his head, and he began gesticulating wildly, finding it very difficult to put his fury to words.

"I have the complete rundown of everything," his valet hastened to add, "just like you said." Reaching into a leather bag at his side, he pulled out the piece of paper. "You see, most of the things you had, sir, no fence will buy...yarn...shears...things like that. So I had to find alternate buyers. I found a clothes maker for your yarn, and, after a lot of finagling, convinced her to buy it. Turns out that people either make their own yarn or trade it for goods," he explained.

Edward blinked stupidly, trying to understand, but having difficulty. He had collected such a glorious collection of yarn, of so many shades and colors, so many weights and materials, how could someone not buy it? "How much?" he managed to articulate. "How much did you get for it?"

The valet cleared his throat, shifted uncomfortably again, and replied, "Well sir, I was able to convince her to give me 5 gold for it."

Edward grasped at his heart, certain that such news would stop its beating. "Five gold?!" he breathed. "Five gold, for my lovely horde?!"

"Yes sir, I'm afraid so," the valet answered.

"What about my pottery? And my shears? What about all the parchment? The silverware? The dinner sets?"

The valet shifted again. "Well, as I say, sir, it's all meticulously recorded, as you requested. But, regarding the particulars, the story was the same with the shears. No one is interested in buying them. I eventually found a metal worker who agreed to purchase the lot to melt down, but there was no one else interested."

"And how much?" Edward asked, afraid to know the answer.

The valet sighed. "Five gold, sir."

Edward's eyes bulged again. He had sweated, slaved, persevered lugging around pound upon pound of metal shears, day after day, for a mere measly five gold??

"And," the valet hurried on, "the pottery you had was in...well, very poor condition, sir, and nobody was really interested, except..." Here he trailed off, and seemed almost afraid to continue.

"Except?" Edward demanded. "Except who??"

"Well, sir, a health inspector happened to be passing by one day as I was trying to make a sale, and he noticed one of your pots...it was particularly dirty and unpleasant. He insisted on performing a test on it, and turns out it was covered in some rather disgusting decay. So he...well, he confiscated the whole collection of pottery, and charged a 15 gold fee for the cost of proper disposal."

This news was too much for Edward, who sagged back into his chair despairingly.

"But don't worry sir," the valet interjected, "I paid for it out of my own profits."

Edward glared at him. "Profits?!" he demanded. "You said I made 35 gold -- that's less than it cost me to rent a horse to get the stuff there! -- and you made profits?!"

The valet cleared his throat. "Well, a little, sir."

"How much is a little?" Edward demanded, his eyes blazing.

The valet shifted. "Well, sir, I can't remember exactly..."

Edward rose, inarticulate but furious, gesturing wildly and demanding, in broken, rather profane, language, to be answered.

"Well, a little over a thousand gold," the valet finally confessed.

Edward fell backwards into his seat, stunned. This man, his servant -- his lowly servant! -- had made almost thirty times as much as him! "But you had so little!" Edward protested. "My horse was loaded down, and yours just had a small bag on it!"

"Yes sir, but I found some very valuable items."

Edward glared at him. "Where is my list?!" he demanded. "Give it to me!"

His valet hastened to comply. Edward scanned the list.

Yarn (20 lbs) - 5 gold
Shears (150 lbs) - 5 gold
Pottery (20 pieces) - (-15 gold, paid by me)
Parchment (5000 sheets) - 2 gold
Paintbrushes (150) - 1 gold
Dinnerware (100 pieces) - 20 gold
Artwork (5 pieces) - 2 gold

Total 35 gold (not counting fine)

Edward started to cry.

[mALX]

The letter from the Gray Fox was huge! But one of my fave of all chapters - Edward and the Pirate Captain - I can never get enough of that chapter !!! ROFL !!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Sep 19 2010, 07:03 PM

[treydog]

He hadn't so much as opened his mouth to speak to her yet, and she already wanted to kill him!

Edward's irresistible "anti-charisma" strikes again! The pirate wench must have been unusally susceptible; it usually takes at least a few words from Edward to send women into a homicical rage...

"No, they'd probably expect something like that," Edward decided, dismissing the idea. "I have to do something bold, something unexpected, something glorious and worthy of me!" He paused his mental monologue, and then added, "And something that won't get me killed."

"Bold, unexpected, glorious, worthy of me." This is one of those analogy tests, right? "One of these things is not like the others?"

Then he stopped, his eyes resting on a small but charming plant, that he'd heard called Nirnroot. "Sooooo pretty," he thought, heading toward it. "Soooooo...pretty!"

I can just see him standing there with his pillowcase trailing on the floor and his mouth hanging open- without the shadow of a coherent thought anywhere in his head.

But the absolute crown jewel was the list of his "loot," along with the prices his valet managed to obtain- a feat of mercantile negotiation never before seen.

This post has been edited by treydog: Sep 19 2010, 09:42 PM

[sford564]

One of my favorite parts of the entire story is when the valet sells Edward's stuff for him.

[haute ecole rider]

Gaston Tussaud's fate is just as likely for some of us readers!

And of course the varlet/valet is a better thief than our hapless hero, as well as a better haggler!

These chapters truly highlight the vapidity that so characterizes our beloved (!) Edward.

[Rachel the Breton]

Thanks for the comments all!

@mALX: Thanks...I love that chapter too...I remember wondering how I was going to kill Tussaud off...and it seemed such a fitting way for Edward to do it, and just in line with his glorious career of killing-by-stupidity.

@treydog: re: anti-charisma...LOL. Good observation. As for the Nirnroot...as someone who accidentally "sampled" more than a few harmful ingredients when I started playing, I just * had * to have Edward do that.

@sford: Thanks...I almost killed myself with laughter while writing that...glad to see others enjoyed it too.

@haute ecole reader: LOL. re: Tussaud's fate...I hope not! Although it's almost been my fate, too, once or twice, dreaming up wacky things for Edward to do.


@All...just to let you know, I may not be posting much more this week...I have training for the babies (the pups...lol...getting Care Bear ready for her first obedience trial...fingers crossed!) tomorrow, a department-wide potluck at work the next day that I just know I'm going to get roped into helping with, and then I'm on call this weekend as we move a bunch of servers...and that while relatives are coming over (although, depending on who shows up, getting called into work on the weekend won't be such a bad thing. But you didn't hear that from me ) ... so...if I'm not around for awhile, it's probably one of those things...or catching my breath in between, lol.



Their busy days and a hundred ways,
Watch the world continue on its course
Though the promise looms of darker days
But, oh, things will get so much worse...
-- Mehrunes Dagon, contemplating the future

Chapter Thirty-One

Edward had sulked for the rest of the day, refusing to acknowledge his valet's existence. He had tried to convince himself that his servant had cheated him, but, this failing, he had determined to simply ignore the man. When the valet tactfully absented himself, rather than feeling relieved, Edward felt even angrier. Not only had the man most unfairly outdone him, but now he removed himself so as to avoid the well-deserved wrath he should be showered in.

When Edward at last settled in to sleep, he found that sleep eluded him. He was angry, sulky and unsure of how to avenge himself on his servant -- and the latter tormented his mind for many hours. At last, however, he settled on a plan.

He rose early the next morning, paid his tab, packed his bags without waking his valet, and exited the inn. For a minute, he considered stealing his servant's horse, but decided against it; not that he would have objected to robbing the valet, to be sure, but he couldn't stand the idea of depending on anything belonging to "that man".

Therefore, bright and early, Edward set out on his own, heading for Cheydinhal. After all, he had successfully completed his assignment, and he had a payment to collect. "I have my own stuff to do," he thought, "and I've already wasted enough time pandering to the needs of that ridiculous servant of mine...ex-servant!"

With a grim smile, he decided that his disappearance would be the best possible punishment for the wayward valet. "And," he couldn't help admitting to himself with a sense of guilty pleasure, "he'll never see a penny's worth of pay from me!" Although this tended to tarnish the otherwise stainless revenge he'd planned, his practical side won out over the idealistic side; which is to say that his quest for pure vengeance, at least as he defined it, was second to his miserliness.

The beauty of the cruel deprivation of his company waned, however, as he trudged along his way. The morning was warm, and promised to grow hotter, and he was not terribly fond of exercise as it was, much less so such a long trudge as he was now embarked on. Huffing, puffing, sighing, sweating and feeling terribly sorry for himself, Edward walked in solitude for two hours. It was then that he heard the sounds of rapid hoofbeats on the road behind him. His first instinct was to pull off the road immediately. "But then," he thought despairingly, "perhaps I would be better to stay here...to end it all by being dashed to pieces under a horse's hooves, rather than continue in this futile, painful, degrading existence." The mental image, however, of actually being dashed to pieces under a horse's hooves quickly decided him, and he hurried off the path to wait for the rider to pass.

As the hooves neared, he divined that there were two horses at least. "Too much noise for one," he thought.

Sure enough, in a few moments, two horses appeared over the hilltop. Edward started. There were two horses, but only one rider -- and that rider was his valet!

The other man reined his horse to a halt near Edward. "Sir!" he exclaimed, dismounting. "I figured you had started on your way."

Edward felt elated that he was no longer alone, particularly when he saw that the other man had brought an extra horse. But his pride refused to acknowledge the sentiment, so, instead, he glared at the valet. "What are you doing here?"

"Following you, sir."

Edward's glare turned to a frown. He couldn't understand this...in all truth, he had been rude and discourteous -- and, to top it off, remiss in actually paying the man's wages. Why, in the name of heaven, would he follow him here? "Why?" he asked at last.

"Well, it's my job sir!" the valet answered, in a tone that seemed to indicate that the answer was self-evident.

Edward's frown deepened. "Well, how did you get another horse?" he asked and last. "And what for?"

"For you, of course, sir," the valet replied. "And I bought it."

Edward stared at the other man, attempting to ascertain if he was sincere. Seeing that he was, he then wondered if his servant was mad. Not only did he put up with his master's temperamental, even -- though he was loath to admit it -- absurd, antics, and all without pay, but now he was spending his own money to buy a horse for said annoying master?

"Well, come on, sir," the valet said. "Aren't you going to mount? It's much faster riding to Cheydinal than walking."

Edward shook his head, not quite sure of what to say, but took the reins from his valet's outstretched hand. The man was mad, he concluded, but at least he was loyal. Plus, though he hated to admit it, he seemed to be a pretty good thief, which just might come in handy some day.

[mALX]

Oh, I just had a flash of Edwards list of people to kill - and his valet was like at the top of the list! SPEW! Slowly the nameless valet will train Edward, ROFL! A great chapter, and good luck with the obedience trials !!