Hoist the sails IT IS NOW NIGHT 1, NO POSTING!Night falls like a dank blanket over the Obsidian Island chain. A fiery string of harsh volcanic islands, this inhospitable place has long been a haven for all manner of unsavory characters who would rather brave the fire of the volcanoes than the flame of justice. Of course, the islands are a volatile mistress; providing comfort and shelter only to s.natch it away in the blink of an eye. Countless criminals have met their end somewhere among this deadly archipelago, some the victims of the volcanoes, the reefs, or the storms, others the victims of less random acts. Add to these acts the fact that pirates regularly stage their operations from these waters, and it is quite understandable that the most captains steer well clear of the Obsidian Islands. But, as is true far too often in life, the greatest risks reap the greatest rewards.
One captain and his crew of 23 will attempt to loot the islands of their lost and stolen treasures. They may be ready for the dangers from without…but are they prepared to cope with the dangers…from within?
Captain Morgan gazed pensively through his spyglass towards the black outcropping of rock a mile distant. ‘The first of many,’
he thought to himself.
“Oy, First Mate TheMuffinMan
, rig the sails and rouse that mangy lot of a crew. We make for the first island come sunrise.”
“Aye Cap’n,” shouted TheMuffinMan
in return. He quickly ran for the ladder to the belly of the ship., and proceeded to most considerately scream, curse, and generally raise Hell until each and every member of the crew was awake. Breakthrough, Xentor, EMP Demon, and ZeroByte
had a room just for the 4 of them, being the ship’s officers…and cook. What exactly it said about Captain Morgan that he ranked his cook ZeroByte
as highly as he does his trusted officers, I do not know, but it certainly said something. Grudgingly, the crew left their dreams of riches behind. Some hoped to make these dreams come true today. Some simply hoped to live to dream another day.
And some hoped to see their crewmates’ dreams die.
But no matter what their hopes and dreams contained, all 23 men set about the task of preparing the ship for the approach to the island with vigor. Captain Morgan commanded them with no more than the strength of his presence. He strode among them, a demigod among mortals, barking out orders with steel in his tongue,
, what in God’s name do you think you’re doing? How thick are you boy?! Theslan, Condizzle
, get over here and show this blasted moron how to tie a knot.”
“I’m watching you Petco
, get back to work you lazy son of a seacow. I’ll give Gwahir
your share of the loot, I swear. Stop your smirking Gwahir
, or I’ll give Snidely
BOTH your shares.”
“This will be a day to remember, lads. This cache will be better than that haul in Makalaka and Tristin Point combined. Puerto Iglesia will be pocket change
compared to this. I see you doubt me. Mouse, Pulse, Quaunaut
you think I’m a liar? Is that it? I didn’t think so.”
If a triple masted clipper could move cautiously, that is exactly how one would describe the Luz de la Luna
’s approach to the first looming island. As the ship eased into what may have been the safest natural harbor in the entire chain of volcanic islands, the crew collectively sighed. They had done it; they had landed on the Obsidian Islands. Their riches were close, so tantalizingly close. They only had to step out and find them.
That first step proved more dangerous than expected, however. As Captain Morgan walked down the creaking gangplank, the cracks of gunfire burst like a rolling thunderclap from the scraggly bushes perched on the rock ledges above the cove. Morgan dropped, his stifled cry lost beneath the continuing sound of guns from above.
“Man the cannons!” screamed TheMuffinMan
, as he rushed to his captain’s fallen form. Before he even reached the body, the bloom of blood beneath Morgan’s head told him there was nothing he could do. As the roar of cannon fire drowned out the sounds of the ambushing guns, the first mate knelt down and closed his dead captain’s eyes. The cannons were so earsplittingly loud, it took TheMuffinMan
a moment before he recognized the sound of his own quiet weeping.
3. EMP Demon
4. im lost
7. brute force
I need pms from the wolve(s), seer, and psychopath if they are still alive. The psychic, if alive, will receive a pm containing the number of wolves left in the game.
Day 1 will begin at 3PM EST / 8PM GMT on Saturday. If the time conversions are off, go with the EST one and whatever it's GMT equivalent is for the duration of this game.
Anyone who has NOT posted in the pre-game thread and/or has not been authorized in irc will be considered to be dropped from this game in favor of someone else who wishes to play.