Post by The Master Tactician on Jan 3, 2013 1:59:00 GMT -5
The docks of Bilgewater bustled and thrived despite midwinter snow. Sailors hustled to and fro, loads of cargo crates in tow, their boots leaving craters in the frozen slush. An unremarkable Noxian ship docked at midday, while most of the city's prominent representatives were at sea.
Jericho Swain gripped his collar against the coastal winds as he descended from the deck of his vessel. He took his time navigating the ramp's steep incline, leaning heavily on his cane. Two imposing guards followed in his wake, their faces obscured by their glowing four-eyed helms. The entourage easily parted the crowd, drawing more than a few stares as they marched down the dock, through the cobbled main street and down Tavern Row, finally pausing before one of the quieter pubs. The Grand General lifted his chin, sunk his cane into the snow before him and waited for one of his Raedsel to draw open the door.
Hulking, faceless, an accompanying guard scaled the steps without hesitation, drew open the iron-bound door and bowed his head. Swain ascended steadily, two feet and a cane to each stair, finally emerging into the smoky, one-room bar. A shriek issued from the foul bird at his shoulder as she rustled her wings, shedding white snow from her ebony feathers.
Swain's glowing red eyes scanned the room. It was mostly empty but for a few hooded and cloaked drunkards, night-shift shipyard workers, commoners of no consequence. But there, in contrast to the drab room, sat the very man he had sailed to see...
Post by bksonmyjock on Jan 5, 2013 13:18:59 GMT -5
The empty bar was cloudy and wreaked of sea salt and puke. The floor boards were damp and would creak when stepped upon. In the corner of the room he waited patiently. Gangplank, The Saltwater Scourge, was expecting the Grand Generals arrival. But his arrival this early was unanticipated. None the less Gangplank was prepared.
Half empty bottle of rum on the table; His gun tucked and concealed -even though he knows it wont be getting any use right now. He knew Jericho would dare not threaten the king of all pirates. Just like he knew he would dare not threaten the man who controlled the Noxian Army. This made him only wonder as to what Swain could possibly want with him.
Eye contact had been made. The general than began making his way forth to the back of the room where Gangplank was seated. The eyes of drunkards were glued to him as he paced across the room. The guards had stepped to the side as Swain took his seat. Gangplank reached in his pocket conspicuously; One of the guards then branded his spear towards him. Out of his pocket he took out his favorite citrus fruit. Without even peeling the orange, the salty pirate took a chomp. Looking at the guards with disgust, Swain ordered to them to leave so they can discuss business in private.
Still chewing on the orange with his mouth open, Gangplank had welcomed the Grand General to his city.
Post by The Master Tactician on Jan 5, 2013 15:57:08 GMT -5
Swain settled himself in the rickety wooden chair. He directed his Raedsel to the door with a wordless gesture, a deliberate sweep of his gnarled hand. Then the hulking guardsmen left his side, took up vigil at the pub's entrance. The few drunkards haunting the dive turned back to their booze, and the general spoke in a low growl to his pirate accomplice. "Ho indeed."
"Forgive my short notice. Given current events and the rigorous schedule of your tradeships, it was necessary for me to meet with you immediately. I have a business proposition for you--minor in scale, but of great personal importance to me." He folded his hands beneath his chin, gaze fixed on the pirate before him: on the mannerless mouth, the unruly beard, the cocked sailor's hat, the beady eyes. "I understand a human cargo vessel will depart from your docks in a few days' time, bound for the western coast." The general's eyes flashed with purpose. He leaned forward over the driftwood table, awaiting his comrade's response.
Post by bksonmyjock on Jan 5, 2013 17:15:40 GMT -5
Gangplank knew the vessel he was talking about. It will be parting from the Bilgewater docks in approximately 3 days time. 'Swain has ships o' his owns. Wha' could he wants wit' me vessel?' Gangplank thought to himself.
"Alright Swain, I be listenin'"
Last Edit: Jan 5, 2013 17:19:40 GMT -5 by bksonmyjock
Post by The Master Tactician on Jan 6, 2013 2:29:56 GMT -5
The slightest of smiles danced behind the general's eyes as he continued. "Out of desire to mend the mistakes of my predecessor, I wish to return to their homeland a small group of Demacian maids."
He popped his knuckles one by one as he spoke. "The poor doves were removed from their houses-of-service by the late Darkwill's greedy and petulant son, and have since lived as slaves in my country, wrongfully detained. But, now that their plight has been brought to my attention, I wish to return Darkwill's stolen property." There was no regret in Swain's voice, no sorrow for these supposed prisoners--but there was a tinge of hatred at the mention of the late grand general's name.
"In my infinite benevolence, I wish to see that they are all safely and discretely delivered to the houses to which they once belonged. I would purchase seven of your current cargo at full price and replace them, body for body, with my own maids. Double the profit--so long as you adhere to my terms."
Post by bksonmyjock on Jan 6, 2013 21:59:13 GMT -5
The offer had intrigued the mighty pirate. 'Hmmm... double th' profit. thats a nice amount o' money' Gangplank had thought. But at second thought, it just sounded too good to be true. 'Swain had sailed this far wit' a business proposition. This obviously must mean a lot t' 'im. Nah only will th' money be good, 'twill help strengthen me relationship wit' th' Noxian Army.' "Wha' are these terms ye speak o'?"
Post by The Master Tactician on Jan 6, 2013 22:16:21 GMT -5
"Subtlety," Swain said simply, removing his gloves. "Silence. And swift execution. I also wish to insure that the destination of my cargo is precise. It is the property of House Crownguard, and that is where it should be delivered." He spoke matter-of-factly, raised his eyebrows when he had finished. "This can be arranged easily enough, I presume?"
Gangplank, a little muddled from the rum he had been drinking, had responded accordingly. A little rowdy and slamming his fist on the table, "wha' are ye tryin' t' say Swain?! me ships always arrive t' thar destination on time! We even fight th' mightiest Kraken o' th' sea 'n make it on time! O' course in that case some o' me scallywags dont make it..." Gangplanks fierce glare dazed off towards the ground and the tone of his voice had suddenly softened up a bit. "They were good lads. May thar souls rest in peace..." Suddenly he slammed his fist on the table again; this time spilling the rum all over. His fierce eyes had returned to continue his answer. "But even then we still be makin' it on time!"
Gangplank had unclenched his fist and leaned back in his chair. He looked at the guards standing at the entrance. Then back at Swain. "I'll tell ye wha' Swain- I'll accept yer offer. Don't worry about payin' me double either. But, only if ye oblige t' ME terms."
Last Edit: Jan 9, 2013 19:50:43 GMT -5 by bksonmyjock
Post by The Master Tactician on Jan 9, 2013 13:34:33 GMT -5
A wicked smirk raised the Grand General's sunken cheeks. Amused by his intoxicated companion's feverish defense of his fleet's timeliness, he replied, "State them, then, my salty associate."
Post by bksonmyjock on Jan 16, 2013 3:42:19 GMT -5
Gangplank replied "Well ye see, i sense that Sarah Fortune has been snoopin' around me side o' th' docks fer th' last couple days. I dont know why but I do know that she doesnt belong anywhere nigh me ships. Business across th' seas 'ave been mighty rewardin' lately 'n I dont wants her plunderin any o' me gold. I wants ye t' keep 'n eye on her at all times throughout th' next season. ye do this fer me 'n ye got yourself a deal. how about it?"
Last Edit: Jan 16, 2013 3:43:42 GMT -5 by bksonmyjock
Post by The Master Tactician on Jan 16, 2013 4:47:41 GMT -5
The general blinked once, twice, his typically solemn visage twisting as he allowed himself a laugh. His amusement perhaps came out louder than he'd intended, his wheezing cackle drawing the stares of some nearby drunkards, causing the bird at his shoulder to ruffle her feathers in dismay. When he had finished, Swain cleared his throat, leaning back over the table, extending his gnarled hand for a shake. "The raven has many eyes, pirate. Call it done."
Post by bksonmyjock on Jan 24, 2013 22:27:01 GMT -5
Gangplank browsed the guards standing at the entrance of the bar. Then at the drunkards who were starting to become rowdy and annoying. He then turned to Swain and stared at the generals bold eyes. Given the glance he had a hunch Swain would be up to something. But that didn't matter. As long as he knew the exact location of Sarah Fortune at any given moment then the deal was well worth it. He reached out to the general and shook his hand; it was glorious. "Yarr! I'll be on board th' mother ship meself rest assured yer delivery will arrive on time 'n in one piece!"
Last Edit: Jan 24, 2013 22:43:56 GMT -5 by bksonmyjock
Welcome to Maelstrom, Original Characters, Summoners and Champions alike. We are a divergent setting roleplay forum for the ever-popular MOBA by Riot, League of Legends. This means we are based in Riot canon, but your characters' actions can have a real, lasting impact on the world. Together, the Maelstrom community endeavors to bring the League of Legends setting and characters to life through collaborative storytelling and meaningful development. We welcome you along for the ride.
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