Classic-Castle Roleplay: August

[Loneranger]

As the boat made creeking sounds....

“Barbod” Lovana didnt even say Lord because she didnt trust him...

“What is it Lovana?” He replied...

“My men must take over the boat and lock up all the falcons, if they find out which island...

“I understand your consern. But I will not let you lock up my fellow men!” His voice had anger in it, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering, suffering leads to death... :p

“If I where you, Barbod, I would do what she says...” The Lone ranger said peacfuly...

“I will not let my own men get locked up!” He replied with a strong voice...

“Are you saying that those BLOODY FALCON's are your men?” she replied...

“No, but they are my friends and they have helped me, if it wasent for them I would be dead!” He could tell something was about to happen...

“If only they knew the road ahead of us...” The Lone ranger said...

“Eye” Lovana replied to the Lone ranger...

the silence grew, as they just stood there...

LR

[Barbapple]

Location: At Sea

Barbod was enraged at the very idea. Locking up his own men. His freinds.
He sighed, turning away from Lovana, and walking down into the captin's corters. There he through himself into bed, and forced himself to rest. He really needed energy for this trip.
His sleep was short lived, however, as he awoke soon with the slamming of prison doors.
She wouldn't...Barbod thought, raising to his feet. He sprang up, and ran accross the deck. He peered into the prison cell, to see his Black falcon freinds cramed together.
"Hey Barbod!" The lone Falcon said, looking up to him.
Barbod rose to his feet and found Lovana.
"You dilibratly disobayed me!" Barbod shouted
"I did what was best." Lovana said back, calmly.
Barbod stared at her, angraly.
It was scilent for a few secondes. He needed to take action.
Barbod unclasped the latch, and opened the prison, relecing his freinds. He then stepped ontop a crate, and looked at his bull soldiers.
"Lovana disobayed her king!" Barbod called out to them, "This is a crime. And as such, must be punnished." He said. The Lone Falcon could tell he was innfurriated, but didn't show it.
"I would lock her up in the prison, but we need her for when we get to the bull island." Barbod called. "So I will insted strip her of her tital!" Barbod gnashed his teeth. "You will no longer take commandes from Lovana. Gerrik is seconed in command!" Barbod almost shouted. He then hopped down from the crate, to face Lovana again.
"How could you do this to me?" Lovana asked.
"You disobayed me." Barbod almost smiled.
"And putting that rookie in charge?" She asked, "I'm a better fighter!"
"And from what I hear," Barbod angraly said, "Your a good runner aswell."
"What the bloody megablocks does that mean?" Lovana shouted.
"My nine bull soldiers and myself stayed and faught the war." Barbod said, "And what did you do? You ran."
"We would have been killed!" Lovana shouted.
Barbod smiled. "Be good the rest of the trip and I might make you third in command." He said
Lovana stared Barbod in the eyes, and he could see the fire burning in her.
He knew then, what he did was a bad idea.

[Daimyo]

Drullen Council Dome

Before the emisarries and nobles from every province of Forest nation, shackled and dressed in rags, stood Radjar Kath, and behind him, General Gereld Vos. The only Forestman supporter of Radjar was Bella Turnleaf, who knew Radjar's illness by her druidic powers. The future looked grim.
"Radjar Kath, you are brought before here today to be sentenced for your crimes against our kingdom." bellowed Bjarn, almost regretfully. "May Chodan have mercy on your soul."
The dignitaries and ambassadors gathered. It would be a long day.

[Formendacil]

Grid: D-16
Location: At sea, aboard the Bombardier, east of the Dragon Master colonies.

The Sorceror-king frowned as he walked back to the stern. Kendo's men were gaining fast, their ships being smaller and lighter than the heavily-laden Bombardier. If they could make it to the open sea, there would be no worries, but if not.... well, they would have to stand and fight.

The Sorceror-king had no doubts that his Dragon Masters would prove the victors, but he had acquired them too recently to desire to lose any, and he would be providing little assistance.

Captain Broadside was as good a captain as any on the seas, aned better than most, but there was no way he could bring the Bombardier out to the open seas. The pirates were bearing down on the ship, and as he had been instucted to avoid a battle, the Crusader turned the ship in the only direction left to him, south-westwards.

But the ninja ships were much faster, and coming as they were from the north, they began to drive the Bombardier nearer and nearer the shore. Finally, the ship was cut off from the open sea completely. Captain Broadside tried to keep the ship in the open water, but the sea was shallower than he thought, and with a sickening crunch, the Bombardier was run on the shoals.

The smaller ninja boats, able to float in the shallower water, dropped anchor all around the Bombardier and their crews began to dive into the water, swimming towards the large Crusader ship.

"Soldiers stand ready to repel boarders!" the Sorceror-king called to his Dragon Master troops. "Sergeant Targon, deploy the men, archers to the poop deck and foredeck. Captain Broadside, have your men armed and ready. Can the dragon be brought out of the hold?"

"Not without burning or removing some of the deck's timbers," replied Targon. "That's how we got her in, anyway." Captain Broadside affirmed the sergeant's statement.

"If they manage to successfully board us, try to lure some down there," commanded the Sorceror-king. "Otherwise, forget her."

"Sire, can we count on your support?" asked Targon.

"My sword will be in action," said the Sorceror-king, "but my magical effects will be kept to a minimum. Consider it a test of your abilities." Targon nodded, accepting the hidden falsehood.

The Sorceror-king drew his blade. It was wreathed, as always, in green flame. Perhaps he was weak magically, but woe behold anyone who thought they could best him with blades in a fair fight. Or an unfair fight. The Sorceror-king smiled to himself. Let the battle begin!

Obligingly, the first samurai began to scale the sides of the ship.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Drullen Council Dome

Before the emissaries and nobles from every province of Forest nation, shackled and dressed in rags, stood Radjar Kath, and behind him, General Gereld Vos. The only Forestman supporter of Radjar was Bella Turnleaf, who knew Radjar's illness by her druidic powers. The future looked grim.
"Radjar Kath, you are brought before here today to be sentenced for your crimes against our kingdom." bellowed Bjarn, almost regretfully. "May Chodan have mercy on your soul."
The dignitaries and ambassadors gathered. It would be a long day.

The Drullen Council Dome was set on top of Drullen Bell Keep, and was windowless except for a large hole the penetrated the center of the domed ceiling. Radjar, who was standing the center of the room where the accuses always was located, could see the blue sky though hole. How he wished he could be free of his curse so he might actually walk free knowing that no innocent victim would be killed by his uncontrollable wrath. Now, bound in chains, he was more than helpless.

Delegates from Dark Forest lined one side of the round room, Forestmen the other. The Lone two Wolfpack members stood in the corner, their faces obscured, only their faction's insignia visible. They were, in fact, unnoticed by many, save Bjarn, who eyed them keenly.

Gereld Vos laid a hand on Radjar's shoulder, and exited the circle, leaving Radjar alone in the prisoner circle. Escape was impossible.

Bjarn stopped eying the Wolfpack delegates and stepped up onto the podium. "Radjar Kath, you are brought before here today to be sentenced for your crimes against our kingdom." bellowed Bjarn, almost regretfully. "May Chodan have mercy on your soul."

Bjarn was not judge or jury, as the Leader of the League of Forestmen his duty was speaker only.

"Radjar Kath, leader of the Dark Forest Faction, you are accused of following crimes; the murder of Forestman Alec Wiles, the murder of Forestwoman Shasha MacDurmond, the murder of Forestman Cedric Corm, the muder of Forestman Vlepus Danmt, the murder of Forestman Xled Danmt, the murder of Forestman Gregory Scrept, the murder of Forestwoman Fina Felpengurber, the murder of Forestwoman Keira Gladwheel-" at this Officer Gladwheel stiffened, Keira was his daughter "-the murder of Forestman Philes Wodder, the murder of Forestman Jeb Formifil, the murder of Forestman Don Goodwork, and the murder of Forestman Jled Gander."

Radjar visibly sagged.

"How do you plead to these charges?" asked Bjarn, his eyes burning.

"Guilty, but I was not myself-" started Radjar.

"You plead guilty to all charges?" snapped Bjarn.

"Yes but, I was not in my right mind!" shouted Radjar.

"You claim you suffered from temporary insanity?" snorted Bjarn.

"YES! I am possessed, I am a vampire!" shouted Radjar.

Silence.

Radjar explained...

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Lovana stared Barbod in the eyes, and he could see the fire burning in her.
He knew then, what he did was a bad idea.

Lovana left at last, followed by the Lone Ranger and the other Bulls. Barbod could still feel her eyes burning into him. He turned to the Lone Falcon and the other Falcons.

"I--I'm sorry..." he said, "I don't understand why they can't trust you..."

"Some can never look beyond a sterotype. Bulls hate Falcons, Falcons hate Bulls. Some can never think past that," replied the Lone Falcon calmly, "I think it is time that my fellow rebel Falcons leave you..."

"But--" protested Lord Barbod,

"For as long as we are here, there will be unrest, and the Bulls will not see you as thier king. We are also in danger, for I have seen the scathing looks some Bulls have cast our way. We should go,"

"But--"

"Do not worry, Barbod my friend, we are not deserting you. We will continue to infiltrate the enemy Falcon Government, and we will continue to seek out supporters of the Bulls. We are not retreating, we are continuing the attack."

"But how will you pull this off? asked Barbod, stumped and confused.

"I will tell you..."


10 o' clock at night. The Lone Falcon paced up and down, wondering if he was doing the right thing...what he had said to Barbod was true....but was he and the other rebel Falcons 'continuing the fight' or just running....?

The Lone Falcon jumped...for the Lone Ranger was approaching.

“I know what your plan is, do not worry, nothing will happen to your soldiers...” He said to the Lone Falcon.

“How do you know this?” The Lone falcon asked, startled.


The Lone Ranger did not answer the question. Insted he said, “Lovana is not going to let any one of her Bull's to kill any rebel Falcons, she knows what you have done to the help aid the Bull...”

“Then why did they lock us up and treat us like dirt?” asked the Lone Falcon angerly.

“I cannot explain this to you, but you must trust me...”

When the Lone Falcon turned around the Lone ranger was gone...

[Jack Craft]

Location: at sea.

Jack dozed.

Though he had long ago learned the trick to snatching a bit of sleep during the odd lull, the lapping of water over the sides of the shallow coracle kept him from getting any real rest. It didn't help that the small wicker boat was hastily woven and not entirely watertight. Jack had quickly assembled the tiny craft from the stores on the merchantman Cosark, after deciding that, perhaps, being a Jack Tar wasn't the career he had thought it to be. His departure under the cover of night from the ship, and the small amount of food and supplies he had taken as compensation for his services, would in no way endear him to the captain.

"But really," Jack murmured sleepily, "it were his own fault. If he'd of just let ol' Jack ashore when he'd asked..."

An abrupt splash of briny water woke Jack the rest of the way. He sat up in the coracle-- rather too swiftly, nearly capsizing the craft-- and stared with a growing sense of dismay at the level of water in the boat. After spending a few futile minutes bailing, he realized that the woven sides of the craft were quickly coming undone, and the entire coracle would very soon be as useless as a bundle of wet twigs. Which, come to that, was exactly what he'd be left with.

"Brix and Blox! This won't do, Jack-me-lad... not at all."

Jack scrambled to find something to patch the widening leaks with, stuffing bits of torn sailcloth into the rents, smearing tar over the surface. His efforts slowed the disintegration somewhat, but did not fill him with confidence. He scanned the horizon for sign of an island, a reef, another ship, or even just a passing bit of useful flotsam.

He grinned.

A low shape, just on the edge of vision, was moving his way.

"Ahh... Jack's luck still hasn't let him down yet. Let's see."

He pulled up a battered brown backpack, and began to browse through it, looking for all the world like a man without a care.

* * *

On board the Rose Marie, a lookout blinked in confusion. He stared out to sea again, and confirmed what he thought he saw.

"Lord Barbod!"

"What is it?"

"There's a sort of... signal flag on the horizon!"

"A flag? What kind of flag?"

"Well... that's just it, Lord. It's... er..."

"Well!? Spit it out!"

"As far as I can make out, it's a fancy lace tablecloth!"

"A what?"

"Just as I said, M'lord. A lace tablecloth, just as you'd see a banquet-- a nice green color, too."

[The Green Knight]

Grid: D-16
Location: Aboard the Bombardier, stuck on the shoals.

The Sorceror-king smiled to himself. Let the battle begin!
Obligingly, the first samurai began to scale the sides of the ship.

It was a strange feeling before the battle... the dreadful aprehension of the coming foe. The anticipation, in Targon at least for a chance to finally vent his accumulated frustrations. It had been a while since he had fought a real enemy and he was ready for a challenge.

He didn't have time to really think about this strange feeling though. Everyone had to be in their places and he had to make sure they were. Even the last seconds before the enemy attacked were spent shouting orders. But that was two seconds ago and now the battle had commenced.

Pirates were every where, crawling up the hull, surrounding the ship with their little rafts.
But the dragon masters were ready for them. Side by side and back to back they held firm. They were also aided greatly by the archers in the rigging. The Pirates were quick but the Dragon Masters had better armor and training on their side. On the other hand the Pirates sure had the upper hand in numbers. They were coming fast and furious now and the Dragon Masters were almost overwhelmed. Down at the front line Targon was fighting for his life.

"Is there no end to these pirates?" He thought as he stabbed another man.

Meanwhile The Sorceror King was doing wonders with his sword. Felling one if not more pirates with each stroke.

"Still," thought Targon "it would be more useful if he could just flip all of their ships on top of them."

Targon was fighting near the edge of the ship now. Slashing madly he fought off three more pirates. Then, suddenly, he was grabbed from behind and pulled over the side. Down he went. Straight down onto one of the pirates rafts.

"Ow"

Targon managed to gain his feet in time to see the pirate who had grabbed him emerge from the water where he had fallen. He was a small man with a bald head and no weapons.

"This'll be easy." thought Targon. Not so. Targon's first swing missed and the little pirate took advantage of it by jumping in for a crack at the knights face. It felt like a ton of bricks had been dropped on his face.

Targon fell backwards, wondering how such a little man could pack such a punch. He swung wildly with his sword, trying to make out what he was aiming at through his swelling eyes. Where was his helmet? It had fallen off with the punch he guessed. Suddenly his seeing cleared and he glipmsed a strange, black, object hurtling towards his head. His helmet. Somehow he dodged it and it crashed through the hull behind him.

Targon hated to think what would have happened had he been hit. He squared off against his opponent again. Obviously this man was stronger then he looked. He was about to have another go at the pirate when he heard a strangely familiar noise.

Where had he heard that noise before? It sounded almost like a dragon noise. Like the noise it makes right before it breaths.............

Targon hit the dirt (or in this case the raft) just as the stream of fireshot from the hole. The pirate was disintegrated instantly and several of the enemy ships caught fire.

Unfortunately for Targon something else was on fire and it hurt like the dickens.

"My hair!!!!!" Targon screamed. And without a second thought he threw himself into the water. It was a very stupid thing to do. He couldn't swim and his heavy armor took him right under.

Straight down to the depths he went and all he could think was how this was all Bargon's fault.

[Daimyo]

E-8 Iadoraz Free Port.

SEARIL Chordate was never a man of many words. Words were the harbingers of blasphemy, words were the sentencers of damnation. He was not much of a crafter of creations, as hands are the creators of evil, and creations idols of evil. He was never a man of ponderous thoughts. Thoughts were moments of doubt and unfaithfullness. He used all of these. But none of them to a great extent. Searil Chordate was a servant to God. Searil Chordate was a messenger of damnation himself.
He came to Iadoraz Free Port, northern stronghold of the wealthy and gluttonous, to seek out his transport. He came to Iadoraz to seek out the unholy and punish them. Among the twisted cobble streets of the port, along the wattled Tudor houses and creviced stone towers, Searil walked, calm and collected, with a knowing mind. As he passed by squalid hovels of the wretched, seedy institutes of the harlot, and boastful castles of the greedy and fat, he kept in the depths of his consciousness the purpose of his being, and reached his destination. Above him, swaying, creaking in the lukewarm Autumn breeze, a faded emblazonment of gold and drink was peeling on a wooden sign. Searil entered the public house, the gnarled doorway flanked by two red-shirted soldiers of the Royal Authority, the two men not even giving him a moment's glance, just another harmless passerby. Searil's confident steps, wary but not prideful, paced him to the stairs, and towards the end of a long wooden hall, lined with torches and recent carvings. Inside the last door he found his man.
He was a short fellow, chubby and round about the gut, and his pasty face was dabbled with the blush of a nobleman. He had oily black hair that had one short curl at his forehead, and his greedy eyes betrayed any notion of modesty or generousity. A neat black goatee formed about a fat-lipped mouth, pearl-white teeth shining out from it, and his emerald green suit was trimmed with gold and chained with silver inset by precious stones.
"Robert Ringwald," Searil nodded accordingly, politely removing his hat and placing it on a nearby coat rack. "I am at your service."
"Good, good, have a seat," the fat nobleman gestured towards a velvet chair near a bronzetree table.
"Thank you. Mr. Ringwald, I have come here to negotiate my entrance to the trial of King Radjar Fael Kath at the capital of Delvardan Gard, Drullen Bell Keep." Searil spoke matter-of-factly, his voice tinged with contempt for both the man in question and the one sitting in front of him.
"Yes... I have gathered what you need to go there, and it will cost you a most expensive sort of money that I will and must accept at this time." Ringwald was a rude and blunt man.
"What will you except?"
"I want five hundred thousand gold for your entrance. You do not know how much trouble it was to get your intellabrix into that tycoed place."
"Mr. Ringwald, I believe you are aware of the sin of greed."
"Do not bother me with interpretations of pathetic rambling," Ringwald said angrily, pouring a glass of brandy for himself and not bothering one for Searil.
"Do not blaspheme against the Lord's word." Searil growled, hands folded, eyes closed.
"What was that?"
"DO NOT BLASPHEME AGAINST THE LORD'S WORD!" he yelled, pulling out his crossbow and pointing it towards the fat head of the nobleman.
"Guards!" Ringwald screamed cowardly.
Several guards, their green armor scarred and pitted and faces tainted with scars and disfigurements, rushed through the room. Searil wasted no time, and fired his crossbow at two guards with subpar swiftness. The other guards rushed, him, and Searil put away his bow, hitting one and knocking to the deck. The guard clutched his broken, bleeding nose; Soon enoough, yet another was holding a broken jaw. Searil turned to face the window and kicked it through, the guards closing in. He jumped out, hoping divinely that he would reach the next rooftop. In example, it was a leap of faith.

[The Green Knight]

Grid: G-10
Location: the dungeons of the Fire Breathing Fortress.

The dungeons of the fire breathing fortress aren't much to look at. No tapestries, no decorations, just solid stone cells and strong iron doors. Well....at least that's the way it used to look. Now the dungeons are even less to look at. Probably because now there is less there to look at. Now the "strong iron doors" are all mangled and bent, evidence of the powerful explosion that shook the fortress' very foundation some days past. There are many cells in the dungeon but punishment in Dragon Master land is usually very swift and most of the cells are never used.

Now there was only one prisoner. A man named Bargon who had once been a knight in the ranks of the Dragon Masters and was now awaiting his punishment. Even in the aftermath of the explosion the jail guards had managed to fix up a small cell for the man. As slapped together as his cell was Bargon still found it hard to escape. What with the two guards (Stupid and Stupider as he had named them) watching him day and night. Bargon did hope to escape his fate however, and had set his mind to it ever since his brother had been sent away. If he could escape this trap he had a feeling he would never be bothered by Targon again.

Unfortunately for him, his time was up. Lord Void had been too busy to bother with Bargon before but now.... Well, now Stupid was bringing Bargon his breakfast and he had an unsettling look in his eyes.

"Here you go Rat. Hope you like bread and water because that's all you're gonna get fer your last meal."

Bargon looked down at the "food". Bread and water? It looked more like a lump of coal and a bucket of sewer water.

"You like the bread?" Said Stupider, grinning. "I made it specially the way you likes it. Extra stale and extra crispy. It's been sitting in the dragon feed fer days. I guess even they wouldn't eat it."

Bargon's stomach revolted. And he had thought for certain that they wouldn't be able to find anything worse then what had been served yesterday.

"Forget about that." Stupid said, pushing his compatriot out of the way. "Didn't you hear what I said about your last meal? That's right. You're going to be dead before noon."

"Ah," said Bargon, breaking his "bread" against the stone wall. "And what, prey tell, is the form of my demise to be?"

"I heard it was death by execution." said Stupider.

Bargon spat. Weather it was astonishment at Stupider's stupidity or the revolting taste of his "bread" that prompted it...... is really hard to say. But Bargon did say something after he had fully recovered and it wasn't very polite.

"Death by execution? That's about the stupidest thing I've ever heard. It's like saying 'Getting killed by someone killing you'."

Stupider would have been furious at the insult if he hadn't been so confused by the last part.

"Anyway" Said Stupid. "Lord Void gave the execution orders just before he left."

"Wait." Said Bargon "You mean that Lord Void is gone?"

"That's what I said is't it."

It was too perfect. Bargon had been saving his ace in the sleeve but now that Lord Void was gone it was even better.

"Gentlemen" Bargon said "you can cancel your execution plans for this evening because as of this moment I am appealing to Lord Void."

The two guards stood there for a while trying to contemplate what Bargon had said.

"Can he do that?"asked Stupid

"I think he can." Said Stupider "It's in the rules: If a man appeals to Lord Void he must see Lord Void. Just like Caesar."

"Oh, don't tell me you actually read those fairy tales."

"I doubt it." Thought Bargon. "I doubt he can read at all."

"But what are we gonna do?" Said Stupid again. "Lord Void is gone."

"If I were you" said Bargon I'd "I'd go get Del Grakken or possibly Caimlin."

Stupid and Stupider looked at each other and then, at the same time, ran off to get help.

[The Green Knight]

Gib sighed. "I think I might know your deceiver after all."

Grid H-10
Location… Somewhere in the Neverwood the forest.

Gib was silent for a while. He was mulling over all the information he had just received.

"I think it's time you and I had a talk." he said at last. "Take a seat."

Gib motioned to a fallen tree as he himself took a seat on a large rock.

"It seems," he began "that we find ourselves in a rather strange situation. You, an escaping Dragon Master are stuck in a forest that you loathe. Don't try to deny it, I can tell. You can't go back even if you wanted to and the only way out is straight through the forest, following a man you detest. I, on the other hand have been left with a dragon and a Dragon Master on my hands and in my forest. There are few things I hate more then those and the fact that you tried to kill me doesn't endear you to me at all. Ironic, is it not, that we should both have to put up with our least favorite things."

Marus grunted, unimpressed.

"I do however, have a plan that could get us both out of our current situations. You owe me debt for trying to kill me and I need a favor. So here's the deal... You help me track down and kill that dragon you brought with you and I'll leave you on the Classic Lego border with a sack of gold as heavy as your helmet."

"Are you mad?" Marus responded. "I wouldn't go near that dragon for all the gold in Dametreos. Why do you think I left Dragon Master Land?"

"Now see here. You brought that dragon in here and you're going to help me get rid of it."

"Yeah, and then it had a fire muzzle and two choke collars. Listen, these slave dragons are beaten day after day. I know you don't know a lot about dragons but trust me, the last thing you want to do is face a slave dragon that's just escaped. What do you have against that dragon anyway?"

Gib looked away, avoiding the question.

"Oh come on, I told you about the deceiver. Come to think of it you never really said anything about that either."

Gib thought about this. "What harm could telling the man do? He already knows most of my secrets." Then suddenly Gib had an idea.

"I will give you an answer Marus but only if you swear to help me destroy the dragon. It's really a terrific secret you see, one that few on earth except for me know. You see, there are many things that I detest. I detest knights. I detest Dragon Masters. I hate dragons and most of all I hate dragon blood.
These things I detest for a reason, and in this secret you will hear exactly why I detest them. But first you must swear."

Marus' interest was peaked now. He himself was a man driven by hatred. A hatred for dragons that came from the time that a dragon had given him his scar. "I swear." he said "By the crest of the dragon."

But whether he meant it or whether he said it in treachery Gib could not tell...

[Formendacil]

Grid: D-16
Location: Aboard the Bombardier, stuck on the shoals.

The forces of the Sorceror-king continued to hold the upper hand on board the Bombardier, but it was a precarious situation. The Dragon Master lines were no longer straight, but ragged and several Dragon Masters, including Targon, had fallen, either wounded or into the the sea.

On the foredeck, not a single samurai or ninja had yet managed to successfully penetrate, defended as it was by the Dragon Master archers and the Sorceror-king himself. A similar situation reigned on the poop deck, where Captain Broadside, and several of his sailors had joined the fray. The rest of the sailors were in the rigging, ready to descend on any pirates that might break through the Dragon Master line.

Soon enough, the ninjas did. Kendo himself, and a band of his most elite samurai attacked the ship from his flagship, which was anchored to the Bombardier's larboard. The tired Dragon Masters broke, and Kendo's men poured onto the ship, driving the Dragon Masters before them.

The Dragon Masters tried to regroup, and the sailors jumped down from the rigging to join them, but the samurai were too numerous and fresh, and unless something happened soon, the main deck at least would be in Kendo's hands.

Then the Sorceror-king himself was there. Samurai, ninjas, and enemy sailors fell right and left, felled by his fire-wreathed blade. Kendo himself stepped forward to fight him.

The Sorceror-king took no special heed of the pirate daimyo. With his left arm, he smashed his staff into the bandit's face, and with the sword in his right, he stabbed him in the shoulder, effectively removing him from the fight.

The Sorceror-king didn't stop to bother with Kendo, but continued on fighting with the numerous samurai around him, not letting his guard down for a second. Wounded, but not yet willing to concede the battle, Kendo crawled off the Bombardier, and onto his own vessel, to watch the battle from a safer distance.

[Jack Craft]

location: at sea

The Rose Marie tacked slightly off course, drawing closer to the odd signal flag it had spotted. A lookout on the forecastle deck called to Lord Barbod and the rest of the curious watchers.

"Tis' a ship, Lord! No bigger than a wash-basin, I'd warrant! One man aboard!"

The Bull King rubbed his jawline and muttered to himself.

"What the megabocks is someone doing adrift out here?"

"He's waving his cap at us, m'lord! Your orders?"

Barbod ground his teeth a bit, but curiousity overwhelmed him.

"Throw him a rope and get him on board! Now! We've wasted enough time with this foolishness as it is!"

The deckhands scrambled to obey, and a coil of thick rope tumbled over the side of the vessel. When it was hauled up a few moments later, a grinning, brown-bearded man in a blue nautical coat pulled himself over the gunwale and tottered unsteadily onto the deck. Though his grey breeches were dripping with salt water, he seemed perfectly at ease. He untied the rope while at the same moment sweeping off his battered brown forester's cap in a low bow, and only stumbling slightly at the awkward move.

"Much obliged to your captainship! There's many's the little fish who had his bulby eye on nibbling my toes when my coracle goes down! Glad you spared them the trouble!"

He swung a ancient leather backpack-- somehow dusty-seeming, even while wet-- onto the deck, making a muffled junk-rattle, and without so much as a by-your-leave delved into it. After a search, he excavated a pair of soft grey boots from the pack, and yanked them onto his feet, jumping from one foot to another as he did. Meanwhile, a small scattering of deckhands and soldiers had abandoned their tasks to stare. His boots in place, the odd figure slung his pack up to his shoulder, and finally decided to have a look at his surroundings.

"Well, now, your captainship! This here's a fine brig and no mistake! And to whom do I owe thanks for..."

Jack trailed off, his eyes widening in surprise. Among the soldiers, he could see the distinctive armor of the Bulls. And others-- though clearly keeping their distance-- of Falcons. Two mortal enemies, apparently working on the same vessel. Reluctantly, he could tell, but still.

"Brix and blox, Jack," he murmured to himself, "now here's a story worth the hearing, or I'm a barrel of vinegar."

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"Brix and blox, Jack," he murmured to himself, "now here's a story worth the hearing, or I'm a barrel of vinegar."

Grid: P-14
Location: sea

The Lone Falcon was bleary-eyed due to the lack of sleep, but he attemped to hide his exhaustion when he greeted the newcomer. The Lone Ranger's intence discussion between Lord Barbod, Lovana and himself had been long and emotionally straining. The Lone Ranger had explained Lovana's plot to test Barbod to see if he was truely the rightful Bull King. It seemed finally that Lovana had been convinced of Barbod's rightful claim to the Bull crown, and Lovana also expressed sorrow for putting the rebel Black Falcons through such a rough time, but she had to be sure that they truely wanted to help the Bulls.

As the Lone Falcon reflected on this, he reconised the confusion of Jack Craft he had seen from other when they were confronted with the Bulls and Falcons helping one another.

"Come!" said Lord Barbod welcomingly, "Eat and drink, and you shall tell Gerrik, Lovana, Trevelaun, the Lone Ranger, the Lone Falcon and myself what ills have befallen you..."

[the_great_one]

N10

Reno stepped out of the battered inn onto the wooden port. The sun was sinking in the sky, and a boat could be seen siloetted (sp?) against it. Reno looked at the dead corpses of the crusaders, the ones that were brutally slain by the black figure. A wind whipped a piece of parchment into the air, and it landed next to Aros's feet. he picked it up and read it.

Lord Bjarn!!
recently crowned high lord of the forestdwellers
A small picture of Bjarn was below.

reno and aros gasped together, and Luxus looked on.
"Sir... Bjarns king now?" reno nodded.
"Aros youve travelled more then me. which way to the Forestmen country?"