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» » » » Post: Re: [ENTRY THREAD] Piratical Pourquoi Storytime! [Deadline April 30, 2013]
Print at Dec 11, 2019 5:25:00 PM
|Posted by marielking at Apr 30, 2013 7:19:02 PM|
Re: [ENTRY THREAD] Piratical Pourquoi Storytime! [Deadline April 30, 2013]
Docktarte of Emerald
The Origin of Kraken's Blood
"Hey, you!" I look around the almost-empty inn; the only other patron is the local old salt, swaying drunkenly in his usual seat at the bar. He already looks like he's three sails to the wind, so I choose to ignore him.
"I mean you, you great land lubber with your fancy black clothes," he says, gesturing wildly for emphasis.
I'm still waiting on my new sword and don't fancy a stick on stick brawl, so I drop ten pieces of eight on the counter and grumble out, "Go buy yerself another drink, mate."
"I bet you don't know where that purty color of clothing comes from!" He pockets the money as his eyes travel over my outfit.
"Everyone knows it comes from kraken's blood. The fiercest creature in the sea."
He lets out a hearty guffaw, "Ha! In all yer sailin', have you ever even seen a kraken?"
"No, but I've heard tales."
"Har! I can tell you the origin of that rumor, but I'm not sure you'll like it, mate!" At this point, he's ambled over to my table and taken a seat. It doesn't seem like I'll be able to get rid of him, so I settle in for a story.
"It all started when I was young and green as the grass. I got caught up with this crew that called themselves The Brigands. It was all good, we were pillagin' and plunderin' enough for my liking, but my captain was getting restless.
"You see, the captain was getting tired of bein' away from his wife and little ones so much. He already had the strange problem of an octopus that had decided his shoulder was home port and a peg leg. He wanted to settle somewhere, maybe set up a trade on some island, the usual borin' stuff people do when they aren't pirates anymore.
"The problem was that he wasn't business minded. All he knew how to do was manage his crew, drink his rum, and brawl... nothin' that really looks good on a resume.
"One day, we were sailin' back to home port and a great storm blew in on us. A storm so dark and great that the sky made the ocean look pale in comparison. Some o' the crew thinks it was brought on by somethin' supernatural, but that's another tale over another drink..." He glanced down pointedly at his almost-empty mug like I hadn't given him any pieces of eight earlier, then continued.
"Anyway, that storm don't really matter. The point is, our boat was off course and we were lost. By some sorta miracle we came across a small island, the likes of which we had never seen before. There were strange shaped rocks. They looked like little masts pokin' out of the land. There were pools filled with the most weird lookin' flowers, like nothin' I'd ever seen before.
"The Cap'n ordered everyone off the ship, deciding to inspect the island. We'd been explorin' the island with the Captain for days. We were tired of cuttin' through tall grass, wadin' through sulfurous smellin' mud, and other general unpleasantries. More importantly, our supply of rum was dwindlin'. The crew was gettin' perturbed, ready to get back to sea and home. We had seen enough of that island with it's queer flora and it's lack of anythin' edible.
"Finally, the Cap'n was seemin' to come to his senses and wanted to get off that rock. We were headin' back to the boat when we came across another strange pool. The captain's octopus seemed to take interest in it, wigglin' its tentacles back and forth. The captain had a strange bond with this octopus, so he decided to investigate what it was in a flap about, so we hiked over to the pool. It was shallow, with brightly colored rocks skittered every which way across the bottom. There was some grass rooted to these rocks, and in the usual strange fashion of the island it was a bright purple hue. And pokin' its head through the strands of that crazy grass was the cutest sea creature I've ever seen. It was no bigger than the palm of my hand and had a cluster of tentacles waving wildly from its face. It looked ter be wavin' hello to us with the ruffles along its body. And it was every color I'd ever seen at once, like a rainbow had shined down on it and got stuck." The old salt said all this with a smile on his face, and for a moment there was silence as he got lost in his memories.
"Anyway, this silly lookin' creature had caught the captain's attention, and he said that he wanted to take it home to his girl. He fetched a bilgin' bucket, and put it in the water to scoop the creature up. Everything seemed to be goin' well, he'd gotten the creature in the bucket and was lookin' at it when all of the sudden it squirted out and splashed back into the pool with a small plop. And almost like it was mockin' the cap'n, a big blot of black had gotten on his favorite shirt."
"The Cap'n then made it his goal to catch the little varmint, but every time he got it in his bucket, it gushed out of the water and left another dark splotch on his clothes. It was a sly creature, hiding in the purple water-grass, disguising itself among the colorful rocks and bein' a general nuisance." At this, he laughed loudly, and then continued his story.
"Finally, when the crew's grumblin' grew into talks of mutiny he decided to quit tryin' to get the thing. Everyone went back to the ship, and we managed to make our way back to port a few days later without much happenin'. Upon arrivin' home, though, that changed. People were takin' notice of his darkly stained clothes, askin' him where he'd gotten fabric such a rich, deep black. And although he wasn't business minded, he saw an opportunity to get some gold and settle down."
"On our crew's next voyage, the cap'n made a point to go back to the island, which he now called Kraken island. Armed only with a few buckets and a barrel of grog, he went back to that strange pool with that strange creature and got as much of it's black goo as he could. He had the crew spread rumors of a great battle at sea with a mighty beast, and then showed the island's tailors how the creature's 'blood' turned fabric darker than the night.
"The demand for black fabric grew quickly, faster than he ever thought it could. So he took our brigand crew back to that island to get more of the little creature's ink, and set up a business. To this day, only those of us that are in The Brigands know where that island is. And that, mate, is where your fancy black clothes come from: some silly creature on some little island in the middle of the ocean, found by a pirate ready to retire with his family. Kraken's blood, HA!" The old salt slammed down his empty mug and burped with a look of satisfaction on his weathered face. Then he meandered back to the bar and ordered another drink, seeming to forget that I was ever there.
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