The Eight Bells Options

[Kiln]

I really like the way that you've managed to weave several characters from your short stories into a continuing story. The main comic relief of this story appears to come from the sleazy yet funny Shamus and the lumbering zombie Mungo while the other characters build the plot of the story and keep things moving. The combination makes this a good read and I can't wait for the next part.

Keep it up and have yourself a cake.

[Agent Griff]

I have read your story to this point and I must say you're a very good writer. You weave comedy with serious action with great skill and the dialogues are just great. You know who Shamus reminds me off? Jack Sparrow (played by Johny Depp) from Pirates of Carribean. Great characters, great story. I presume Edin the Stupid will make an apearrance too right? Everybody has, even that noblewoman is from "Cells and Mothers" and Wellin is from "The Nord Army Hammer".

[Kiln]

You know who Shamus reminds me off? Jack Sparrow (played by Johny Depp) from Pirates of Carribean.

I knew there was someone that his actions and dialogue reminded me of but I couldn't remember who until you mentioned it.

[Agent Griff]

I knew there was someone that his actions and dialogue reminded me of but I couldn't remember who until you mentioned it. 

Old Jack Sparrow did have a little alcohol in him at all times and he acts much like Shamus, rude with the ladies and pretty funy overall.

[Foster]

Prt 11

The best, no, probably only way that Tor and Wellin had found to keep their group moving was to perform continual figure of eights. Wellin would walk up front with Shamus for a while whilst Tor kept Kiera company, mostly trying to avoid the subject of her hair and keep the conversation as polite and court-like as he could, before Wellin would grow tired of Shamus' "travelling tips" (such as 'beware any troll that is wearing pants', and 'in battle, never moon your opponent'), and sink back to make a threesome. Then Shamus would start to drift back too, making comments about how the group needed to keep moving and that they were holding everything up, before Tor would reluctantly move forward. He would then be forced to listen to Shamus' tips ('if you want to move forward, it's best to walk with your left leg first, followed by your right. The other way works too.', and 'all women are born evil, and should have -5 penalties to personality, if you can measure personality that is'), whilst Wellin and Kiera walked in silence. Then, sensing Kiera was uncomfortable with Wellin (who mostly passed time playing with his hammer, or opening his mouth as if it say something before snapping it closed), Tor would sink back. Shamus would then head back, and the process would repeat itself. Mungo spent most of his time wondering behind Shamus, much as a dutiful pet would.

After three days, they'd passed along the Red Ring Road, mostly without incident. There had been a few skeletons at Fort Ash that had forrayed out to greet them, but the real danger lay at Vilverin. Shamus insisted that they'd all avoid the Ayelid ruin by leaving the road and going through the woods. They all had little doubt as to why; it could only be insider knowledge of another bandit group.

By night, the conversations were relativly muted. Tor, for the most part, told them little of how his family found itself in High Rock, mainly because he didn't know himself. It was now obvious to him that his family must have fled from Bregale, and settled somewhere they believed themselves safe. After that his history was blissfully devoid of any kind of disturbance. Wellin, too, seemed to have little to say. He'd lived his life without even considering the possibility of walking the roads, though always the possibility of leaving his mistress, and now that he had he wasn't sure if he regretted the situation. He didn't even know if he wanted his share of the gold. Was it really worth the trouble? He just wanted his own shop, where he could work in peace without threat or admiration, where he could spend his days working for boastful adventurers and listening to the jokes that sent the ambiance lifting high into the roof beams at the local tavern.

Kiera, too, began to stop saying too many things, though every other sentence let out a secret that perhaps she wanted to hold on to. A noblewoman of the Dorian family, her mother had been perhaps overprotective, preventing her leave the castle grounds for fear of the Blue Ring Tryst. She had, not realising the danger, become rather masterful at sneaking past the guards and climbing out of the castle, down to the courtyard. There she'd met Borrin, whom, as far as the three men could tell, she'd had some kind of romantic relationship. Whenever the subject was broached, Shamus always made a few lewd comments, which stopped her from continuing and resulted in a look of shocked indignation. Other than that, Kiera was a mystery. She'd dyed her hair after her mother had found Borrin, and dismissed him from service. As a punishment, she'd spent three days in the imperial dungeon, and had been heading home with two of the family guard when the assassins had struck.

It had been the first time in her life that she had needed to fear for anything, and she had little wish to repeat it. At night, when the others had fallen to sleep either under inn roof or stars, she always remained awake, shivering with cold. Not because her underdeveloped muscles or fine, porcelain and lady-like complection was particuarly susceptible (though it was, truth be told). But from fear that it could happen again. That was why she was coming with them. She had to see it end.

Shamus was perhaps the most forthcoming of the group. Any aspect of his life was a topic of conversation, at any time, and usually in the most coarse of languages. It all fell on deaf ears. Nobody really wanted to know about his past, or why he seemed to know so much about the road. At that, he couldn't help but smile. All the better for him, then, that they didn't know. Each night, although Kiera probably thought he was asleep, he'd keep an eye on her. Since the attack he'd not tied Mungo, trusting him to watch their camp, and the thoughts that passed through his mind were usually of gold, jewels, and the shine of a Septim piece. They wern't too far from Morrowind. Maybe he could ship them into slavery, if he could find the trade still. They'd fetch a good price, and the Dorians would pay even more for the return of their daughter. Then he could go and get himself his own silver mine. Never mind the fifty-thousand septims - he could have five hundred thousand within a few years.

It was thoughts like this that kept him smiling. It was the fact that, for some reason, he knew he wouldn't do any of them that made him scowl. It didn't matter. They were little more than a day away from Bravil. From there, it was off into the wilderness to find the road to Bregale.

[jack cloudy]

Nice, very nice. You've brought history and thoughts together. I like it.

[Magefire]

Another excellent instalment. You are developing the characters very well and have a very good way with comedy. Please continue.....

[Kiln]

This part held a little more information about all the character's pasts (well besides Shamus since people only half listen to his ramblings) and more clues as to where they may be going. I thought before the end of the post that Shamus actually planned to go through with his thoughts of selling them into slavery and plotting other things as well but with the last few words I don't think he will.

Then again it is hard to predict someone that is out for money and who has had a past at being a bandit. Great update, keep up the good work.

[minque]

Holy muffin.... a horde of updates.....AHHH I give up! I can´t keep up with all as much as I wish....

Itá amazing...so many good writers, updating like ravishing maniacs.....ohhh.....


*stands just panting from exhaustion from trying to read ´em all before another one posts an update!*

[Agent Griff]

A very interesting update. Your story is very likeable and easy to read. I also liked the way Tor and Wellin kept the group safe from bickering. And give Mungo more notices will you? Even though he's dead he's still a loveable lump (of rotten flesh).

[Foster]

Prt 12

"And how are we this morning, sweet cheeks?" Shamus said, sidling far too close to Kiera for her comfort, sitting down with impunity between her and Wellin, and nudging up closely. She looked at him in disgust and shuffled away.
"You should not address me as much." She replied, her eyes glowing in annoyance. Wellin opened his mouth like a fish again, as if to say something, but he really didn't know what. He couldn't stop Shamus, especially because of Mungo. The last time he'd said something he'd found himself chased around a tree by a staggering lump of meat. Mungo was Shamus' secret weapon, and, despite the fact that he had begun to turn a sickly yellow pallour, he hadn't decomposed too much.

They were waiting outside of Bravil, mainly at the suggestion of Tor and Shamus. They had both come to the conclusion that drawing attention to themselves was a bad thing, and that they should keep Kiera as far from the city as possible. Kiera, although she'd protested, deep down knew this to be sensible. The Blue Ring Tryst would be watching the town for any sign of a Dorian, and you could never tell where their eyes viewed from. she remembered the story of how her father had to slay one of his own guards once, and how her mother almost died when cleaners had come to drain the septic tank, and one of them had been armed with a crossbow. For a group that was secretive and shady, they certainly seemed to have agents everywhere.

Which is why they all rested in a leafy copse, within sight of the town and its delapidated, wooden buildings. Kiera longed for a warm fire, change of clothes, bath, decent food, fine wine, good company, a minstril, a servant, her personal maid and some fine jewellery, but she understood the danger well enough. Wellin had decided to stay more to make sure that Shamus didn't try anything. Tor had no option but to go. He needed help.

Help he found. He returned to the camp at five that evening with a small, fat man with implausibly bad dental work and a strange, ruffled toupee that seemed to slip to the side as he walked. The man had the distinct smell of easy living about him; someone who had sipped a few too many at the inn on occasion, and spent his money on suckled boar at the pie shop. Tor seemed, however, to have faith in him. Shamus did not. He almost immediatly turned his attention away from Kiera.
"Who's this?" he asked, already reaching for his bow as Tor walked in. "I thought you were only going for the essentials - arrows, swords for Wellin and Queen Lime-head here, and half a ton of healing potions to stop us all, you know, dying?"
"I got those as well." Tor said, tapping a bag. "But we need something slightly more important than that."
"Fatty here?"
"I'm not fat!" The man said, blushing. "I'm just naturally expansive."
"Whatever, fatty. Why'd you bring him?"
"I know only within a few miles where Bregale is. I saw a map, once, breifly. I know it's north of a place called Turnaround Rock. I just don't know where *that* is, so I've found a local...uhm...what did you say you did?"
"Uhm...not much, really."
"I've found a... local... who can show us where it is."
"Edin, at your service." The man said, bowly humbly, allowing his belt to expand, before rising and looking at the strange group. "My lady, sirs, uhm... creatures of the undead, I am at your service."
"Urggh." Mungo said, as if able to understand that there was now someone more meanial than he in the group.
"No!" Shamus said, rising in hostility.
"What?" Wellin asked.
"No! I'm not going to split my share! At the moment I've got 20,000 Septims, I ain't going to...uhm...divide, carry, half and...uhm... lower it to...to... uh, two sixths of fifty thousand, whatever that is."
"Sixteen thousand six hundred and sixty seven Septims." Wellin said, working it out instantly, thanking his shop experience.
"What?" Edin began, rubbing his head. They may call him the Stupid, but he suddenly realised there was more at stake about the rock than just the twenty he'd been paid.
"Why exactly do you think you get two shares?" Kiera asked, picking up on it.
"By rights." Shamus defended. "Actually, it should be more than two, seeing as how it's your damn silver mine and you shouldn't get any of the money, should you!"
"But why two shares?"
"Well, Mungo needs someone to look after his, doesn't he?"
"That foul beast does not get a share!"
"URRRRGH!"
"Calm it, Mungo. She doesn't mean offense." Shamus said, waving off the zombie that had begun to move forward, annoyed that he was considered as such.
"Silver mine?" Edin asked.

The whole copse began to flood with voices and arguements. In the end, Tor closed his eyes.
"ENOUGH!" He screamed, his body shaking a little. Silence. "Thank you." He said. "Mr Edin is not coming with us, he's just showing us where Turnabout Rock is. And he's being paid twenty septims to do it."
"The hell I am!" Edin started. "If there's more to be had, I want a fair share!"
"Then I'll go and find someone else in town!"
"Oh no! No! Edin doesn't get cut out of it this time!" The fat man began to move forward, as if to try and intimidate Tor. He got within five paces, before a sudden noise snapped through the copse.

shhhhhhffff. shhhhfffff. shffff.

The five humans and one zombie watched as Edin stopped in his tracks and looked down. Potruding through his chest where three arrows, their flights coloured with blue rings.

The entire surroundings suddenly filled with cries as the assassins fell upon them.

[jack cloudy]

Oh oh, that looks like trouble. I wonder if Edin will survive this? Wait, he is naturally expansive so his fat will protect him.
Please bring on the updates.

[Agent Griff]

Oh great! I was wondering when Edin will get featured, I hope he doesn't get killed though. And thanks for featuring Mungo more, although I've now realised that he's a dumb zombie and he can't say much. And by the way, Wellin is shaping up to be a very lovable character, I like the way he always wants to say something but in the end snaps his mouth shut. Adorable! Keep up the Great Work!

[Kiln]

Hmmm...interesting to see Eden make an appearance though it appears as though it might have been a short one.

The assassins strike again but our heroes have a good team there and they should be able to take them on well enough, with Tor, Shamus, Mungo, and Wellin(assuming he's armed) things should be alright for them.

Oh and Griff, I think that the simplicity of Mungo is what makes his character so amusing in the first place man, if he played a more important role than a servant to Shamus, it would distract from why he's there in the first place, muscle and comic relief.

Anyways that was a very good update Foster, please give us another soon.

This post has been edited by Kiln: Apr 1 2006, 11:27 PM

[Foster]

Part 13

Every single bush seemed to come alive at once with noise or motion. By the time that Edin had hit the floor the assassins were within the copse itself, charging forward with swords drawn and intent in their eyes. They were all masked, wearing a twisted metal faceplate that made their faces seem to be a shifting maze of burning hate, though they were unarmoured, instead wearing sweeping robes. Tor had Belwyn's sword drawn almost instantly, and as he swung the blade through the midriff of the closest assassin he realised why. The flowing robe made it hard to keep the motion of the blade going - it was easy to get caught up in the material. That and he couldn't actually tell where solid body began - his sweep had hit nothing but cloth and air.

Shamus had no such problem. As the first arrow hit he already had an arrow resting on his bow, and managed to loose two arrows off within the first five seconds, one in either direction, both hitting home and causing an assailant to drop in a spray of crimson that smeared their blue robes. He spun around, quickly trying to appraise the situation, trusting on his tried and honed skills to keep him safe as he made towards the centre of the copse with his feet. Instinct was that the group together would survive. He just hoped that everyone else knew it.

Mungo too was in the thick of fighting. Already he had taken four seperate blows, he even had a dagger sticking into his thigh, but the three assassins that had decided to concentrate on him were fighting a losing battle. The giant of a zombie had already grasped one of them by the neck, raising them up like a squirming ragdoll as he sunk his teeth into their bracial artery, causing their life blood to shoot from the wound. In the other hand he pulled out the dagger and began to swing it in wide circles, hoping to hit anything. The first assassin wisely ducked; the second caught it in the back of the head, crumpling to the floor.

Already the fight was looking bad for Tor. He wasn't used to fighting in armour, or against more than one opponent, and now three had surrounded him, including the one with the ripped and shredded robe. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what to do, before making an impromptu splits manouvre to avoid two thrusts coming simultaniously. The blades sailed harmlessly above as he swung his sword viciously, sinking through three legs, causing two of the assailants to go tumbling down. Then he realised his mistake. The splits, as well as being painful, was also impossible to get up from quickly normally. In armour, it wasn't possible. He could swing forward, but not back, and could hear the final assassin circle around, realising his luck. Tor swallowed hard, his body shaking as he realised it was the end.

The blow never came. When the attack began Wellin's first instinct had been to run and hide, but somehow he'd resisted the urge, and instead tried to think of what to do. The most rational plan was to go for the weapons that Tor had been carrying from Brevil, but no sooner had he made his choice, Tor had been surrounded. It was only when Tor did his unusual move that Wellin saw the final assassin's attention was lost, and, grabbing the initiative, he decided to use the nord army hammer to it's full extent. He'd had to make three hits to get the man down - one with the hammer, one with the nail file (accidentally) and one with the blade - but it had done the job. He then proceeded to pummel the man for all he was worth, caught up in the fever of battle.

In the centre, Shamus had long stopped using his bow, realising that there were just too many of them. Deftly he'd managed to turn his body to throw one over the top, causing his opponent to roll over to Mungo, who happily jumped on him with all of his might. Drawing his dagger, Shamus turned to the others. There were only three left. The first he dispatched with ease, but then he saw the third make it's way towards the helpless Kiera, who had spent the entire battle screaming for her life. His eyes flashed with worry. Kiera was prone, helpless, and afraid. Her arms were held up to sheild her from the fatal blow only moments away, and her eyes were wide with terror. Shamus charged, shoving aside the second assassin, who managed to slash his dagger down hard, causing a gaping gash to cut down Shamus' shoulder and into his side. The bandit ignored the pain. His sole thought was on Kiera, the feet that seperated them, the poised dagger of the bandit, the terror in her eyes, and his desire to protect her. He lept.

Tor was on his feet to see it. Shamus had moved faster than any man he'd seen, and somehow managed to throw his dagger in midair. It hit the assassin full in his metal face plate. With it's hilt. The assassin paused from the strike, bewildered, and watched as Shamus fell to the ground. From under the mask he smiled, as he turned back to Kiera, only to be struck down in turn. Kiera had seized the dagger when it fell, and pushed it up into the assassin's abdomen, ending the threat.

The final assassin was now standing, unsure of his position. Tor moved towards him. The assassin, as if in definace, removed the mask and walked forward, his blade still dripping with Shamus' blood. Tor swung. And missed. The assassin drove foward, laughing as he brought his blade against the armour, causing a grating sound and sparks to fly against the breastplate. Tor swung again, clipping the assailant in the arm.

The assassin scowled, turned, and ran.

The clearing was a wreak. Blood and bodies, the dying and the dead, lay strewn everywhere. Only five remained on their feet - four alive, one undead. Three alive and on their feet. Shamus sunk to the ground, his wounds aching. Two alive and on their feet. Tor collapsed from exhaustion. One alive and on their feet as Kiera bent down to look at Shamus' injury.

Only Wellin remained standing, looking at the scene of devestation and Mungo, happily chewing on an assassin's severed foot. He tried to think of something pithe to say, but words escaped him.

[Kiln]

No wonder Shamus never tries to help anyone else, things like this always happen to the ones that look after others before themselves, he seems to be pretty good at fighting, the others could probably learn something from him.

Shamus finally shows some emotion and Wellin's actions surprised me, I took him for a runner, we get to see more of Mungo's brute strength, and another good clash with Tor all in one update.

There's a little something for everyone here, funny, dramatic, and interesting at the same time, this story is a must read for me. Very nice, update soon.

[Agent Griff]

I agree, this story is much like a comic made with Garry's Mod for Half Life 2. It has humour, adventure, combat and great contrasting characters. A party of people that don't quite like eachother have very interesting chemistry. Too bad Edin died, he will be missed.

This post has been edited by Agent Griff: Apr 2 2006, 09:56 AM

[Magefire]

I'm hooked!! First thing I check on these boards now is the Fan Fic. This is a terrific story, great pace, wit, insight.

[Foster]

Prt 14

"He's dead." Wellin said, pretty sure. He hadn't been unlucky enough to see too many dead bodies in his time, but he did know the axim 'you're not dead until you're warm and dead', which his local healer seemed to live by. Edin wasn't warm yet, but the fact that three arrows stuck inside him, his eyes were cloudy and glazed and he wasn't breathing made it obvious.
"Great." Shamus groaned, drinking the potion gladly and sitting up in the arms of Kiera, before looking at her and flailing an arm to brush her aside. "Gerroff, I don't need a nurse."

Kiera obliged without comment, rising and walking over to where Tor remained, panting. He still hadn't fully collected his breath, and it was remarkable in his mind that he was even alive. The armour certainly had helped, but every muscle in his body ached with fatigue. He wasn't accustomed to using such equipment, even if it had saved his life.
"What do we do now?" She asked, looking to him for some leadership, before looking at her own appearance and frowning. She was covered in dirt and blood, and found the sight rather uncomely.
"Well..." Tor began, thinking for a moment. "We're safe for the moment, they don't know they failed. But we need to move out. We're close."
"Yes," Kiera agreed, "but move where? My family lands are only four miles away, we could be at the castle by nightfall, and there we could..."
"There we'd never get anything done." Shamus said, finally composing himself enough to stand, and spend his time walking about the sight, kicking bodies and retreiving his arrows, and anything else he could find of use. "We need to move out now. Your castle will have a watch on it. They'd just sweep in and ambush us again - only this time they'd do it right."
"He's right." Tor agreed, watching the distasteful sight of Shamus scooping up spare gold from the assassins. He decided to let it slide. The assassins didn't need it.
"There is still one problem." Wellin said quietly, looking at the new sword he had recieved from Tor. "We don't know where Turnabout rock is."

The others paused, their morale sunk. Tor licked his lips for a moment, parched from the combat.
"I could always go back into Brevil..."
"No good." Shamus interuppted. "How do you think they knew where to find us? Spies on the gate, no doubt."
"So..."
Wellin furrowed his brow and thought about it. Even Kiera, who seemed to hold herself in perfect composure at all times, scratched her cheek in thought. Only Shamus seemed unphased, though obviously he thought the idea could wait until he'd finished his looting. Finally he walked over, testing out a new bow he'd picked up from one of the Blue Ring assassins. It was better than his old one, and lighter, too. He looked up and smiled.
"We don't need to know where Turnabout Rock is." he said, grabbing hold of Tor's sword and lifting it up. Tor watched as the former(?) bandit wiped the blade with a cloth, before walking over to Mungo and waving it under the zombie's nose.
"Fetch." he said. Mungo looked at him, obviously content after his feast of assassin limb.
"Urggh?"
"Fetch. As in...find. Find the scent...follow the scent... in the name of Alessia, what use are you as a zombie if you can't hunt on scent?"

Mungo finally got the idea, and set off at pace. The others turned, impressed at the ingenuity of Shamus, and followed.

Three hours later they found it. Turnabout Rock was a large monument of granite, carved into an hourglass with a twisting, turning pattern around it that spiralled up to the top, before forming a gleaming, carved top of a snake head. They all stopped at stared at it.
"Impressive. I never knew this were on my lands." Kiera said, looking at it and nodding, as if contemplating the meaning. "The piece is clearly that of a master... behold the smooth strokes of the chisel, and also the meaning, no doubt an allagorical contemplation of the divinity of nature throttled by the presence of humanity."
"More like someone with a snake fetish and too many spare weekends." Shamus said. "Besides, we're not on your land."
"How would you know?" Kiera asked, turning to look at him. She was confident that she knew her own boundries far better than some bandit.
"Because we crossed the border into Elsweyr half a mile ago. Red rock markers - suprised you didn't notice 'em."
"Oh." Kiera conceeded.
"They must have moved the provincial boundries in the last two hundred years. Just a little." Wellin sumised.
"I don't think so..." Tor began, walking around slowly, looking at the ornately carved rock. "I think... this is why Bregale was never found."
"Care to explain?" Shamus asked.
"Bregale is in the Imperial province... the entrance to it is not." he said.
"Entrance? I thought this was a marker."
"I thought so too. But... 'open the serpent' would mean..." he walked forward, sliding his hands over the rock, searching. Finally he found a loose rock, so carefully put by the masterful artist that it's existance was concealed. He pushed it, and suddenly the entire rock began to twist. The companions looked astonished as a passage downwards materialised.

They looked at each other and smiled. Wellin took a step forward, only to have Tor hold a hand out.
"Wait." he said. "It might be booby trapped." They all stopped for a moment, peering into the darkness.
"One way to find out." Shamus decided, walking forward and kicking Kiera hard on her backside. Screaming, she fell headfirst into the passage. From below the scream continued, before ending with a thud, and a torrent of unrestrained anger, annoyance, and language that even the bandit would have been proud of. "Guess it's not." he decided, walking after her.

He looked at the other two, who both stared at him in amazement.
"What?" he asked. "You never heard of ladies first?"

[Agent Griff]

Great fun! I laughed my boat off when I heard the ladies first line. If I were Tor I would hit that damn bandit with the hilt of my sword in that very moment. But anyway, the story is geting more and more adventurous. They did go a long way. From Bruma to Elsweyr. That's alot of distance to cover. Keep up the great work, I enjoy it whenever I read the adventures of your small party.