The New Adventures of Cap'n Camel!

[Artificial Idiot]

Yeah, I finally decided to post part one of it. I have a few parts stockpiled, but it's took me a while to write what I have, so don't expect me to update that often. Anyway, Enjoy :D

Every small port town has one, it's no secret. Very often, there are even more then one. In fact, it's believed that in the Docks of the big cities, there are hundreds of these. But for now, we shall stick with just this one. A small place just off the docks, holed up in an alleyway, no windows, just a small oak door and a sign, hanging in a half hearted manner. In letters of gold, in the fancy writings of the world famous Yorkshire Monk's (Who are said to be on tour at the end of July!), read the words "The Three Camel's Inn". Although, this was no ordinary Inn, This was one of the premier sailor's bars. Just one look inside, and you wouldn't know if it was absolute chaos, or good business. Hypnotic songs of the sea such as "Seven Men Stamp on a Live Man's Chest", "Ten Green Land Lubbers, Walk Along the Plank" and of course the less PG-13 songs such as "Yo-Ho-Ho And I tie the Wench Down", "We Fed the Capt'n's _ _ _ _ _ to a Shark" and not forgetting the all time classic "I had it off with the Capt'n's bird" Often to be taken quite literally.
Men in all types of Sailor's uniform, or not in it, in some cases. From the striped vested to the full Navy uniform of many countries, even to those in full Pirate garb, Drink by the gallon, Eat almost as much as they drink and run around after skinny young women. But amid all the chaos, like a rock in turbulent water, lay the bar. This bar could be the envy, or disgrace, of the bar world. Theres not a thing that is humanly possible that hasn't been done to the bar, it's most proudest marking is the dent of a mans head, as he was shot out of a cannon by a friend. And behind this bar, stands the owner. Camel. A medium sized man with a long brown beard, the rations of entries armies entangled within it. Donning his grubby "Get Drunk and Kiss Me" apron, this man gets more business then any other establishment in town! Although, how much is actually paid for and how much of that money goes into repairs/cleaning is another matter.
This is a man who should be drowning in his own riches, eating from gold platters and employing n00bs off the street to clean his privy. But no, he has always lived a humble living, and an honest living. But this is all about to change.
Today had been like any other day for Camel. The odd scuffle between his regulars over the peanut bowl, only 3 people had been killed this morning, a record to be sure. There was the casual cleaning of the blood stains, pulling pints till your eyes watered, hiring entertainment, and the overripe fruit for the custom to throw at them. He'd even managed to fire the old ornate cannon! What a day, what a day!
So, with a light heart and a stained apron, the jolly old man was stood behind the bar, humming the tune to "Green Tree's grow on the high seas" when a man came up to the bar. Men often came up to the bar, wouldn't be much of an inn if they didn't. But this one, while looking like a normal, if not abnormally skinny, young man, had a purpose.

[sterio]

Great writing AI! :) :D

[Toxic10x]

...more!

:D

[Artificial Idiot]

I know I said I wouldn't post for awhile, but I needed cheering up. So here it is, part 2.

"Good afternoon mate, An' what a fine 'un it is, eh? What can ole Camel be gettin' ya?" Camel said in his cheerful barman voice. It was one of those deep, warm voices that echoed without a cavern in sight. One of those that large old men used to bellow down the house after a few pints, and Camel was no exception to that rule.
it could be said that the other man replied with a cold stare, if any eyes were visible beneath the hood of his travellers cloak. It was a stare you felt, and it made Camel slightly uneasy. Although, there was something familiar about it.
"Do you have a back-room?" The man whispered, Camel nodded in reply. "Do you have somebody to cover the bar?"
"Oh, ah... Nilloc!" Camel bellowed. "Git yer self in 'ere!"
A man in an off white chef's outfit made his way though the small double doors at the back of the bar. For a brief moment, you could catch the enchanting smells of food being cooked, often laden with spices, Not because there was anything wrong with the food, not at all. Le Grande Nilloc was a world renown cook, it was almost a crime for him to working in Camel's grotty little kitchen. No, it was because sailors got used to Spices on their food, it became like an addiction. Something that, after months and months on the seas, they couldn't go without. It made the rarest Steak smell like, well, far off spices to be precise. And then there was the man himself, Nilloc. The man who has worked everywhere. From royal palaces, to the fields of battle and it's even rumoured that he has cooked for bears in a cave! If Camel's bar was the envy of the bar world, then Nilloc was the Chef's world equivalent. Although, at the moment he wasn't impressive to look at. He had his amusingly large white hat perched atop his head, a wooden spoon sticking out his hat. He had a bright red face, only offset by his dark black hair and the perfectly trimmed moustache that sat proudly under his nose. Other then his hands and his shiny black shoes, the rest of him was lost in his outfit.
"Qui Monseir Chamal?" Nilloc said politely, although obviously disgusted by the customers.
"Ah, Nilloc me lad. Mind lookin' after the bar while I pop to the back room? Theres a good lad!" Camel gave him a pat on the head, flattening the hat down to the mans ears.
"Qui, Le grande Nilloc is on le job!" He scurried over to the bar, as Camel beckoned the young man to follow him. He walked though the double doors, into the kitchen. Nodding at Nilloc's staff as he went. Then, pulling out a key, unlocked a small door inbetween two cupboards.
"After you." said Camel as he opened it.
Inside was a small sitting room, called that because all you could do in it was sit. It had two well padded chairs, a table just big enough to fit two mugs of tea on it and on one of the pale green walls, a self portrait of Camel. Done, surprisingly enough, by himself! Camel sat down, took out his pipe and as he lit it began...
"So, yer got five minutes and th..." Camel's sentence was cut short by a brown bag, made of badly sown leather being thrown on the table. On impact, a few gold coins fell to the floor.

[sterio]

Oooh! It's getting exiting even! Yay!

And AI: That is some great writing!

[eLDiablo]

w00t keep it going.

[Artificial Idiot]

"Seven Thousand Spammish Golldians. Not worth much as currency, unless your in Spammish of course, but in gold alone, it's a fortune!" The man took one from the floor, biting into it. "All real, and all ours. That is, if you'd like to share."

Camel shifted in his seat, his eyes moved from the bag to the stranger. The only thoughts running though his head, was whether he could knock the poor fools lights out and steal the gold, or not.

"So it's true is it? Them silly Spamyards really do make their currency outta pure Gold?"

"By God the country is rich enough." Replied the stranger.

"So... Who be the one that brings an ole man this offer, eh? Let's 'ave a look at ya."

"As you wish." The man removed his travellers cloak, revealing a very pale, thin face. His hair was grey, although the way it caught the light it shone like silver, it didn't make him look old, oh no... Just eerie. His eyes stuck out of his face like two well polished stones, making him look slightly unhuman and coupled with the scar that ran from his left ear, right down to his chin, he made for an unsettling person indeed.

"It can't be!" Shouted Camel. A look of complete shock and awe on his face. "Cabal me lad?"

"Yes Camel, it is me." Cabal rested himself into one of Camel's chairs, slipping off his boots out of habit more then anything. "Anything to drink?"

"Anything to drink?" Camel practically laughed. "You great fool, I live in a bar! Course I got summat to drink!"

Cheerfully, Camel walked out into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with a bottle of "Lion's Special Brew: Specially brewed for those special occasions to enhance those special memories" , although it has been known to not just make you forget these "Special Memories", but enough of it has made men forget where they live. He also had two large tankards, for woe betide the man who tries to drink Lion's Special Brew directly from the bottle and neat.

"So, me lad... thought ya'd joined the navy. Become one of those Admirals... What yer doing back 'ere?"

"It's a very long story" Said cabal, taking a sip from his tankard. "You see, I wasn't healthy enough for active service according to those crackpot wise women, you know the ones that do the health checks?

"Aye, 'ad a few in 'ere in ma time lad... An' not just to order drink, if yer catch me drift." The old man gave a wink and a deep, yet jolly laugh.

"Quite. Well, I went travelling for a few years, and to cut a long story short... found this." He gestured to the bag of gold on the table.

"An' may I be asking..." Camel lent in and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Where ye be gettin' this?"

"That my old friend, is not important. The true matter is... What are we going to do with it?"

"Hmm" Camel sat back, spilling most of his drink into his beard. That soaked it up like a sponge. "We yer say?"

"Yes we... I purpose we buy a grand vessel, a miracle of timber and metalwork! We can sail the seas, live our dreams..." Cabal bent towards the old man until his mouth was level with his ear. "What do you say... Captain?"

"Captain, eh?" Then, with hardly a moments consideration, he continued. "Alright me lad, yer got a deal."

"Good. Couldn't do this on my own." Said cabal, getting up. "Meet me by the Bait Shoppe on the most easterly side of the harbour at dawn in four days. Oh, and another thing..." Cabal put his hand into the bag and threw a few coins on the table. "Make sure you look the part."

[Andra]

w00t Cap'n Camel returns! Really good writing AI :)

[sterio]

Yeah, very good writing! And you're building up something that looks like it's going to be a great storyline!

[Artificial Idiot]

The sun rose on a new day. As the cold morning winds whipped around your senses, numbing even the most hardworking hands. And the smell of the sea, and not to mention the rotting fish and rats around the bait shop, besieged your nostrils. You could say it was an honour to have just a few seconds of peace. For when the sun woke up, so did the docks. Sailors leaving their houses, pulling on various items of clothing as they go, the sounds of ships being loaded and readied to set sail, dozens of hard working men going about, what seemed to be hard labour. And it struck Cabal, that this was the life he wanted? One of non stop sweat and the occasional blood (not tears, theres an old saying, that goes. "Tears on deck a sinking ship doth make". Of course, with the astonishing advances in Sciences in the last 40 years, this has proved not to be the case. In fact, the deck of a sinking ship was actually made worse by dry rot, the weekly darts tournament and unexpected explosions in the engine room).
He was stood, as promised, by the bait shop. It was known as THE bait shoppe, because there was little point having more then one. Leisure time was rare in the docking business, and demand for fish had been very low lately. After a noble in Yorkshire had choked to death on a fish skeleton, it is unknown how it happened. But claims that it was rammed down her throat have been denied time and time again by her husband. Of course, those that still do fish for profit, don't really care for choice anyway. After weeks away fishing for the elusive "Gibbonus Aquaductias", known more commonly as "That damned tasty Gibbon Fish". And then drinking the profits, the last think you want is to stumble into a bait shop you don't know drunk.
Cabal checked his stop watch, it was a new invention by the spammish, He'd brought it just last week, the gold plating still glistening in the sunlight. It was Half Past 12 in the morning, and he was getting very cold indeed. Cold, and annoyed. He had his luggage and a small cage covered by a red cloth. He looked up along the docks to see the silhouette of two figures walking towards him.

"You`re late." He said as they approached.

"Arr, I be knowin' that cabal me lad. 'ad to sort Nilloc's sauce pan's and the like... arr." Said Camel, still in his grubby apron and work clothes. Beside him stood Nilloc, with cases packed to the brim of cooking materials, and ingredients. Not cheese though, Nilloc had a strict anti-cheese policy.

"What in the devil's name is that?" Asked cabal.

"Arr, it be me new accent. Ya know, like all the ole sea dogs speak, arr."

"You sound like some Devonshire farmer who has had too much time in the alehouse, if you ask for my opinion."

"Ah do, well Ah'll e yarrred..."

Cabal shook his head, rummaging in the large brown sack for various bits of uniform. After he had fished everything out, he picked up the cage from beside him and held it at arms length.

"You uniform, put it on when we get inside the boat." Cabal said, gesturing with his free hand.

"But this be... this be... pirate capt'n uniform!" Camel nearly squealed as he examined the clothing, including a rather nice navy blue jacket. Which Camel had had his eyes on for months.

"What did you expect? Us to make our living as honest sailors? Theres no profit in that!" Cabal didn't let Camel take this information in, instead he thrust the cage into his arms. "For you."

Camel, not knowing what else to do, lifted the fabric from around the cage. Inside was a rather skinny bird with red feathers, minus the long blue tail feathers thatstuck out from the back, that had a rather ruffled looking. He looked a mess, but Camel instantly fell in love with him.

"What's his name?" Asked Camel, with a joyful glint in his eye.

"Rolk you _ _ _ _ing, _ _ _ _er!" Said the parrot, opening it's rather large black beak.

"Rather vulgar, isn't he?"

"You'd better _ _ _ _ing belive it! *Squawk*"

"My god... He's like the son I never had!"

"Quite." Said cabal, interrupting the touching moment. "But I take it you would like to see the ship?"

"Su... I mean Yarr!" Said Camel.

"Follow me." Cabal started to walk off, Camel, Nilloc and Rolk in tow.

[Artificial Idiot]

Forcing me to double post? Tsk. Some respect I get :p


There are many positive, uplifting, even praiseworthy things you could say about a new boat. Such as how the wood some how captures the reflected sunlight from the ocean below, how the sails stand proud and tall, how they blow in the gentle breeze! You could go on to say how each cannon looked like a little jewel poking out from the ship, how they glistened and how you wouldn't fear to take them to battle. But unfortunately, this was not the case.
To say the ship was unfit for travel was an overstatement, to say the very sight of it would offend the toughiest sailor in Liverpool however, was not. It was not that the sails were torn to shreds, nor was it that the cannons were old relics covered in rust. No, it was a seaworthy ship and a good one at that. But what it was was filthy! The name, printed in the same style of golden letters as the sign over the Three Camel's, was barely visible! The sails hung like the over used towels in Nilloc's kitchen, stained from top to bottom in many things, mainly bird droppings. However, there was one thing of beauty. The figure head. It was of a woman, a long haired woman in a dress so long that it flowed into the sea. She had her arms around her stomach, holding the Nubolic Cross of Spamyard, and as was common in figure heads.... she had rather exaggerated cleavage.

"Well, this is it." cabal said. "What do you think, gentlemen?"

"It's _ _ _ _ing awful!" Screeched Rolk.

"Aye, 'tis a bit on the ole grubby side matey... " Said Camel, absent mindedly scratching his head. "Could use.... a bit o' polish?"

"A BIT" Screamed Nilloc! Ze Grande Nilloc would dare say it is Disgusting! Le grande un sale! Just to think what le kitchens will be like!" He hurried off into the ship, muttering as he went.

After a while, Camel placed Rolk on the ground, much to his _ _ _ _ing displeasure, and faced cabal.

"So, who be that there lass on the figure head?" Asked Camel.

"They say it's the famed Princess of Spamyard, Quite a remarkable woman. Or so I have heard. Very strong Nubolic allegiance. Very graceful, refined, charming and quite the young temptress... Or so they say." Explained cabal

"I'm starting to like these "They" folk already" Said Camel with a big rascally grin on his face. "Dead is she?"

"No, she's said to be heading over to France. Arrive anytime this week, tides pending."

"France eh... May 'ave to pop in on our way past... heh, heh..." He then run a finger along the side of the ship, it was dirt black by the end. "Arr, this be a right mess cabal me lad, get it clean. I'll inspect it afterwards!"

"That might be difficult sir..."

"What you say?" Said Camel, in an obvious rip-off.

"Well, we need a crew for that kind of labour cap'n and..." Cabal began, but was cut short.

"Well bloody well find one!" Camel screamed.

"Yes Sir!" Cabal turned, and walked off into the busy of life on the docks.

[Toxic10x]

Still great AI- keep em coming :)

[eLDiablo]

The sun rised on a new day.
is that right? :scared:

[Camel]

:D Very nice story........(slightly edited for spelling now :p ) :cool:

[Artificial Idiot]

Yes it is Lpark, you flithly land lubbing dog :p

And Camel.... took your time finding it :p

Anyway, I'm coming to the end of my prewritten stuff, and have mock exams soon (i.e, tomorrow). So unless I write over the weekend, updates will be very slow. Or non-existant.


It should have taken hours, weeks maybe even a month, but cabal had none of those. He had to find a crew, fast. He was stood outside the Three Camels, many sailors often passed here. Maybe some would be out of work, maybe not. At least he could act like he was doing something useful. He looked at his new stop watch, new invention from the Spammish. They had had a real revolution lately, and were inventing like crazy. There were successes, such as the pocket Bump Topic. And of course, failures, like Starboard bow stickers. I mean, phrases such as "My other ship is a Spamyard Battle Cruiser" may be humourous, but there was the matter of the high seas and paper not mixing too well.

"Midday... Holy _ _ _ _, I've been here for hours." He muttered, folding the gold plated wonder away. "Ah well, best be off th..." he began, until the most terrible sound assaulted his ear drums. It was worse then nails on a blackboard, worse then the screech of Cabal's Nephew when he's having a tantrum, it was even worse then Camel passing wind! It was...

"BAGPIPES!" Cabal yelled as he temporally recovered.

A large Scotsman glared at him as he lowered the evil instrument of torture. He was wearing a kilt, obviously. It is a proven fact that any Scotsman in a story HAS to be evil, the owner of an ancient castle or wear a kilt. And this one wears a Kilt! He also had a stained white vest, and a little black hat with a red bobble on it. He also has muscle, a lot of muscle.

"Aye, that what they be laddie. Yer got a problem do ya?" The Scot asked.

"As a matter of fact, I do." Cabal replied, drawing himself up to his full height.

"An' what yer gunna do about it, eh? What yer gunna do yer wee ponce?" The Scotsman laughed. Cabal was about to draw his "other" little Spammish invention from his coat, when two more figures came along. One had the look of a long sighted man, a navigator of such perhaps. The other looked like he had just crawled out a grave, yet he still looked quite fit. More then a match for the Scot.

"Steady on Andra, we're never going to get work if you beat the living hell out of all the employers now, are we?" Said the first man, he wasn't physically impressive, but the Scot seemed to respond to him.

"Bah, Ah'm sorry Stormie, but yer know 'ow it goes, dun't ya?" The Scot called "Andra" turned to explain to the newcomer. He seemed to understand.

"Let me handle this, ok?" He said, pushing the Scot aside. "Now then sir, word is your hiring strapping young sailors to head out on the open seas."

"I may be." Cabal said passively, he didn't want to get their hopes up too much.

"Well I dare say you've found your men!" The man said excitedly. "This Scottish man here is Andra, a fine Engineer. Keep your engine running at top knots or he'll eat his sporran! This here is Krasny, Top man for weapons! Built like an Ox on steroids too, peaceful enough bloke though, just so you don't get the wrong end of the stick and all. And me? I'm Stormcrow, finest Navigator in the land! If I'm not in a Crow's Nest, then I'm not alive!"

When he had finally stopped his long winded Sales Pitch. Cabal just nodded.

"I'm getting desperate, and it's getting near to lunch. So..." He watched the hope in their eyes for one moment, he loved keeping people in suspense. It was almost like you had their life in the balance. "You'll do. However, the Captain asks you were the best out of a long line of people. Got that?"

Stormcrow thought about this for awhile, looking from companion to companion. He then faced Cabal again, an unnaturally large grin on his face.

"So... How long is this line again?"

"Miles long, twice around the block if you like." Cabal turned, beckoning them to follow. "I'll take you to the ship to sign on, then maybe we can get that incompetent chef to cook us a decent meal."

The four left the scene of The Three Camels, and this was to be the last time the Bar saw people by it's doors for a very long time.

[Camel]

:rockbrow: That last sentence doesn`t seem to make sense...

[Artificial Idiot]

Yeah, just noticed I missed a word out. :\

Meanwhile, Camel was stood by the Docks looking out on the ocean. The great blue mass that he would soon be calling home. He dared not look back on the land, for fear that he may shed a tear for what he was going to miss. He hadn't seen Nilloc since Cabal had left, he assumed that he was cleaning the Kitchen. He sighed.
"_ _ _ _ing beautiful, ain't it?" Said Rolk, still in his cage. Which was now held tightly in Camel's arms.

"Aye, lad. Aye it is." His eyes opening to take a look at the glistening waves. "How long d'ya think it'll be before we're sick o' the sight o' it?"

"Hour... Hour and a _ _ _ _ing half?" The parrot muttered.

"Aye..." Camel sighed. he turned back to Docks. They were still busy, but most of the ships had loaded up and sailed away by now. Life on the Docks in the early morn was quite interesting, but Camel was quite glad it had calmed down a bit. If Cabal got back fast enough, they could be away by the Lunchtime rush! Off to France, Home of fine wine, fine women and that really odd new structure they had put up. What did they call it? The GGGYYYAAAAGGGGHHHH Tower? Rumoured to have got it's name when a beam from the Tower fell on the Mayor of Paris' foot as he was naming it. Camel was sure they'd rename it soon, but it did have a certain ring to it.
Anyway, Camel had heard good things about France. Mostly about the women, and the booze, but that wasn't surprising when your main custom was sailors. He had heard that they had clubs that pretty much revolved around women dancing on tables and getting their kit off. Camel didn't find this shocking, Men did that in the Three Camel's all the time. Usually under "the influence", And of course, you just got those that were gone in the head anyway. He'd also heard about large Vineyards, far as they eye could see. Growing the finest grapes, to make the finest wine in the world. Now Camel knew this was nonsense. He could produce a good quality wine just by watering down some old jam he'd had in the cupboard too long. Nobody ever knew the difference anyway!
Camel sighed once more. He'd miss the Three Camel's, it was his home. And even to now, he wasn't sure he was ready for life on the High Seas. But he had to be! It was time to move on, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity!

"Ahoy!" said Cabal, as he approached. "It has been a busy day Cap'n, but I feel I have found the best of the best."

"Oh yes, From lines MILES long, You wouldn't believe it!" Said the smaller of the three men who were walking with him.

"Oh aye?" Said Camel. "Got names 'ave ya?"

"My name is Mr. Stormcrow, this is Comrade Krasny and Andra." Said Stormcrow. "We are willing to serve you Cap'n!"

"Well, Yer can prove yerself by gettin' the ship clean!" Camel ordered. "Me an' Cabal 'ere will go an' get a cuppa tea."

"Aye Cap'n!" Stormcrow saluted. "Have it done in a jiffy!"

[Camel]

:D Hmm, nice storyline.... :beer:

[Spooky]

Forcing me to double post? Tsk. Some respect I get :p





:evil:

Good story so far.

[Artificial Idiot]

Hooray for the weekend! Banish the evil, evil, exams for two days!

After the two had left, Stormcrow paced up and down the deck for a few seconds. Until stopping to look at his comrades.
"Right, Krasny, go find us some brooms, buckets, cloth and a sewing kit."
"Sewing kit?" Krasny almost rumbled. He was a large man, rarely spoke unless spoken to. But he was decent, and knew a standard cannon like a spamyard knows the Nubolic Cross.

"Well look at those damned sails!" Stormie almost screamed, sails were a perticular worry of his. "Leave 'em any longer and they will fall to pieces."
Krasny gave him a nod, then wandered off into the lower parts of the ship. Later returning with all that was needed.

"Right good." Said stormcrow, picking up the buckets. "Andra, take these and fill 'em with water. Hot, cold, fresh even sea if you like, just get 'em filled."

"Right ya are then, laddie." The Scotsman said, taking them in his arms. "Be back before ya kan shake an 'aggis!"

When he did eventually come back, his buckets filled with a pale green substance that Stormcrow wasn't going to ask about, they got to work. They placed a bar of another of Spamyards latest inventions, Soap, into each bucket. Now, you wouldn't think it, but there is a great international debate going on about soap, that heats up every single day. On the one side, you have Italy. Who say they have documented evidence that their ancestors, the Rommings, invented soap, baths, underfloor heating, toilets and showers while the Spamyards were still sucking their thumbs in mud huts. And then, you have Spamyard who claim that God has given them, and them alone, the right to good hygiene and that, "Spamyard, By Divine right, shalt pass these secrets on at her leisure. And that, by the command of God himself, shalt be the first to receive such aid". And on a completely different side of the debate, you have other Countries, such as Great Britain, France and Germany telling them to "Grow up and get on with it" really.

Then Krasny and Andra went off into the lower deck, while Stormcrow set to work on the sails and when they were all done, they would all work on the deck. But while Stormcrow tried to remember the difference between a cross stitch and a Spamyard weave, he was interupted by an ear piercing yell.

"What does le think le are doing!" It was of course Nilloc, accent and all. "Where iz la Chamal? And la Cabella? An' oo iz thiz?"
Stormcrow was a bit baffled at first, unlike Camel he'd heard French, but he'd never heard it like that.

"Ah, Allow me to introduce myself. I am Stormcrow, Navigator of this fine vessal." He gave the Chef a little bow. "And you would be?"

"I zee! Bonsoir, monsieur. I am le Nilloc! Grandest chef of all time!" He took his hat off to Stormcrow, then shuffled back off to the kitchen. Stormcrow shrugged, carrying on with his work.

[ccabal86]

i've said it before, i'll say it again: great story :D

[Artificial Idiot]

Didn't think I'd let it die did ya? You did? Unfaithful fraggers :p


A few minutes later, the crew were on the deck. Looking out over the docks. The ship was so clean you could see your face in each individual plank, providing however, you had a very thin face. Stormcrow smiled smugly, a broom in his hand.
"I gotta say lads, we did a fine job."

"Aye, that we did..." Andra began. He then squinted across the dock. " 'Old up lads? Is that some poor bastard runnin' tawords us?"

"That it is. Two poor bastards actually." Stormcrow corrected. Shielding his eyes from the sun. " Bloody hell! It's the Cap'n, and First mate cabal! And they are being chased by some waiters, a chef and some guy in a suit."

"Oh.." Muttered KO. "Well don't that just beat all?"

"He now appears to be waving wildly and mouthing words at us." Stormcrow observed.

"Any idea what they are?" Krasny inquired.

"They appear to be, "Hurry up ya buncha filthy land lubbers! Git da ship ready ta sail!"

"Ah dunno 'bout yoo, but ah ain't gotta clue what he means." Andra said, ever insightful.

"I think he's asking for a song." Stormcrow said randomly.

"No, he's not!" Said Krasny and Andra almost in unison, knowing that cheap song parodies end in tears and made up songs end up in the loss of ear drums.

"Hmm, well... those waiters sure don't look friendly." Stormcrow observed, rubbing his chin. "Comrade Krasny, the cannon please!"

"Right you are sir!" It took only a matter of minutes for Andra and Krasny, both extremely muscular men, to lift the Cannon onto the deck. The freshly polished surface gleaming in the sunlight.

"Right, into position Krasny! No waiters get away with chasing our Captain!"

"Aye! Show the bonnie wee bastard what we're made of!" Andra, being the typical stereotype he is, cut in.

"We have a problem sir!" Said Krasny, with a slight sense of unease. "You see, I could only carry the cannon... but not the cannon balls. What with having two arms and all."

Storm crow pondered over this for a few seconds. He supposed they could fire Andra, but there was obviously some disadvantage to that course of action he wasn't seeing.

"Well, theres only one thing for it!" He said at last. "We'll have to fire the buckets and mops!"

"Are ye mad laddie!" Andra yelled, clutching hold of his mop like it was a child. "Us Scotsmen dun't live in no unclean ship yer noo!"

"Well, do you have a better idea Mr. Andra? As I would love to hear it."

"Well, there is one thing..." Andra fumbled in his sporran for a moment, before pulling something out. He smiled, holding the dead animal above his head. "Tis a haggis, Ah was savin' it fur tonights tea, like. But ah guess this is a better use."

"Do it, and quick!" Stormcrow yelled urgently as the Scotsman loaded the haggis into the Cannon' barrel. "They will be here any minute!"

"Right, Cannon, loaded. Target, locked on.... Any minute now..." Krasny lit the fuse. "FIRE!"

With a deafening boom, the haggis was propelled at a great speed. Narrowly missing Cabal, and hitting the head chef with such a force that it knocked him into the ground. His followers in the chase couldn't stop and soon they all lay in a heap on the ground. With the Cap'n and 1st mate safely on board, the boarding plank and anchor were raised. The ship drifted off, leaving disgruntled Restaurant owners shaking their fist in it's wake.

[Toxic10x]

:lol: Perhaps the best installment yet :)

Didn't think I'd let it die did ya? You did? Unfaithful fraggers http://www.forums.cncden.com/images/smilies/moosmilies/tongue.gif

erm, I had total faith... sure.. :scared:

[eLDiablo]

you sure took your damn time didnt ya? :p

story getsbetter every time.

[Andra]

n00000000!

You fired a haggis! :p Good work :D

[Artificial Idiot]

you sure took your damn time didnt ya? :p

Your still here aren't ya? Yes? Well quit moaning :p

-----


"For gawds sake cabal me lad! Will yer jus' leave it be!" Yelled the Cap'n, who was quickly mimicked by the vulgar uttering of Rolk.

The ship had been out to sea for five minutes, and already chaos seemed to have taken hold. Cabal was patting Camel's newly formed black eye, Stormcrow and Krasny had taken their positions, Nilloc was down in the kitchen and Andra, like the lazy Scottish bastard he is, was goofing off.

"So, what 'appened to ye, eh?" Andra asked the two commanding officers. "Ah mean, what were those bonnie wee bastards doin' teh ya?"

"Well, Andra me lad, It all began when we left yer, see?" Camel began, recalling it as if it were 20 years away. "Me and me lad Cabal decided to pop into one of those swanky Inn's along the Dock's yer see? Tryin' to get some of that good ale down us... or arr. Anyway, we drank till the seahorse came home, then found that we couldn't pay... quite the set back, aye cabal me lad?"

"Not the only _ _ _ _ ing thing that's a set-back.." Rolk muttered.

"'Ang oon a minute, ah thought you guys were loaded with more gold then a Spammish Haggis." Andra pointed out, confused.

"We are." Cabal said calmly. "We just didn't have the money on us."

"Yeah, we _ _ _ _ ing know who's _ _ _ _ ing fault that is, don't we?" Came Rolk's squawking disapproval from Camel's shoulder.

"Quiet yer stupid fu...." Camel's cursing was cut short by an ear piercing shriek. "There's only one person aboard this 'ere ship that screams as girly as that!

"Nilloc!" Cabal said, jumping to his feet and running to the kitchen, Andra and Camel in tow.

When they got down to the kitchen, they found Nilloc stood on a chair with his Apron held up around his knees. He was pointing at a large pot in the corner, face white with fear.

"Ztep no closer! It is ze beast!" Nilloc screeched. "It vil devour uz all!"

"Stand back lads!" Camel ordered. "Dun't want nobody getting hurt now, do we?"

"Whatdya think we gunna doo about it cap'n?" Andra almost whimpered as he hid behind the Cap'n.

"ABANDON ZEE SHIP! THERE IZ NO HOPE FOR US NOW!" Nilloc screamed hysterically. "VE ARE DOOMED! DOOMED AS A GARLIC ZELLERZ NOSTRILS!"

"Calm down yer lilly livered fool!" Camel yelled. "Now theres only one way to tackle this problem as I see it... Andra, yer go on first me lad."

"Me? But ah'm too young teh die!" The Scotsman weeped. "Think of teh poor wee Haggis... without their daddy, teh poor wee haggis.... oh Robert teh Bruce!"

"It's no good sir! We're going to have to evacuate the ship" Cabal said sorrowfully, shaking his head.

"Oh for _ _ _ _'s sake. _ _ _ _ ing bunch of yellow bellied _ _ _ _ ers. Rolk muttered as he took flight towards the giant pot.

"Nooooo! Rolk me lad! Dun't do it!" Camel yelled, going to run after the bird.

"Sir, no!" Cabal held the old man back, pulling him behind the doorway. "It's too late for him now!"

The bird flew gracefully though the kitchen. Taking a short cut over Nilloc's head, making him faint with shock. As he came closer and closer to the pot, his pass slowed. Talons spread, he snatched the lid, unveiling a rather tasty looking cheese free omelette.

"Ah well, nothing to worry about th..." Cabal began, but then something caught his eye. The omelette started to bubble and shake, as if some unknown terror could rise from it any second. Cabal and Camel both felt their shoulders go numb as the burly Scottish man grasped hold of them, knuckles white with fear.

"Yee gads Rolk... What have yer done!"

[Artificial Idiot]

I guess my skills of suspense must have stunned you all into silence. :shifty:

------

"EEEEEEK! It iz ze cheeze demon! Come to eat me like zee cheap block of British pig-dog cheddar!" Nilloc Shrieked as the gooey mix of egg, flour and ham started to rise from the pot. Well, rise may not be the right word, stumble perhaps. Well, actually it was more of a "tip the pot over and fall flat on your face" but however it happened, it was moving!

"Draw yer weapons an' stand yer ground men!" The Camel warned. "It's four of us to one of him."

"WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIIIIIIIIIIIE!" Nilloc yelled.

"Alright, Three of us and one of... Andra?" The Cap'n looked around. "Oh bloody hell! Cowardly Scotsman."

"Yeah, _ _ _ _ er" Rolk muttered.

The catering monstrosity crawled along the floor, it seemed to be blinded by the mix, becoming less mobile as it started to harden. He stopped suddenly, a trail of yellowish slime in his wake. It looked up at cabal, and started to suck it's thumb.

"Aww, It's kind of cute from this angle, isn't it sir?" Cabal said, until he noticed the batter mix dropping from the figures face.
It revealed a short man, stubby little limbs and an over sized head. He had a disgustingly cute face, with a dopey, innocent look on his face.

"Hi." He said in a cute, squeaky voice.

"It's _ _ _ _ ing hideous! Kill it! Beat the _ _ _ _ out of it!" Rolk yelled, obviously disgusted.

"My name's Tolken..." He began, an innocent smile on his face. "I'm a pirate!"

"Seems to me, me laddies, we gots ourselves a stowaway!" The Cap'n stated.

"I knew it all along!" Nilloc declared, stepping down from his stool. "Ze great Nilloc doez not get ze scared by anything, unlike your cowardly English pig-dogs!"

"Rolk, would you do the honour?" Cabal asked.

"Gladly." Rolk Replied. "Shut the _ _ _ _ up Nilloc!"

Camel stared down on the midget, who was giving him puppy dog's eyes. You couldn't really abandon something that unhumanly cute to the high seas.

"Come 'ere me lad." Camel said, kneeling down. "How would yer like to travel the seven seas with us, eh lad? Yer'll get to see France and maybe even the mighty Spamyard."

"Do I get to talk funny an' drink ginger ale an' stomp on people's chests?" The little fellow said, with almost uncontainable excitement.

"Yeah, I guess so, but..."

"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! FUN! FUN! FUN!" Tolken giggled, running out the room madly. The Cap'n sighed.

"What 'ave I just let us in for?" He said, shaking his head. "Anyway, I believe we have a course to follow. Come, to France!"

The Cap'n and Cabal walked out of the kitchen, leaving Nilloc to grudgingly clean up the mess

[Camel]

:D Nice story...keep it going!

[Andra]

Andra says:

lol :D

Andra says:

Tolken is[sic] ever is teh r0xx0r

:p

[Wesforce]

The way you describe Tolken... Its like you were there :scared:

[Toxic10x]

hehe, i like it.

"Hi." He said in a cute, squeaky voice.

"It's _ _ _ _ ing hideous! Kill it! Beat the _ _ _ _ out of it!" Rolk yelled, obviously disgusted.

ah that rolk :D

[Nyerguds]

Wow! Guess what AI, I finally got off me lazy arse ta read yer story :p

It's great, dude. Just abso-spamming-lutely magnificent :p

But while Camel corrected some English grammar mistakes I feel it's my duty to point out that "qui" means "who" in French, and not. "yes". That's "oui", not "qui".
...not that you'd care :rolleyes:

You also made a bit of a mistake in calling the Land of Spam "Spammish" first
("Not worth much as currency, unless your in Spammish of course")
and later "Spamyard". Make up yer fragging mind :freek:
I'd call it Spammy, personally. It's the closest to the real country's name :p

[Artificial Idiot]

Allow me to use this time to clear a few things up...

The offical name of the country is Spaim, but it's often refered to as Spamyard, as it's the port of many a great vessal. The people are "Spammish", what I probably meant was "Unless you ARE Spammish, of course."
Spammy sounds like a seal :p

On account of any mistakes about Nilloc, who said he was actually French? :shifty:

"The way you describe Tolken... Its like you were there"

I was, it was a dark, dark day for humanity.

[Artificial Idiot]

Seeing as a lot of people seem to be interested, heres another part for you :p


--------
It was a fortnight later, and while Tolken was a bit of an annoyance, he was surprisingly useful for getting into those small places, like, let us say... cannon barrels? That aside, it was a cool Summers day, not the threat of a storm cloud in the sky. As Camel's ship drifted effortlessly across the waves, a cool breeze gently passing though the sails. It didn't seem like a thing could go wrong... Which made Stormcrow's cries from the Crow's nest so much more shocking.

"Cap'n! Cap'n!" Stormcrow yelled at the top of his voice. "Ship off port, bough!"

"Eh, lad? Which side that be?" The Cap'n asked.

"Ah.. Well, right hand side.. I think." Stormcrow replied unsure.

"Right then, Mr. Cabal, order Mr. Krasny to begin boarding procedure."

"Will do sir!" The first mate replied, running down below deck. He found Krasny dozing away on the ships only cannon, obviously having sweet dreams. Tolken was sitting on the wooden deck nearby, staring blankly at bits of floating dust as they caught the sunlight. Cabal cleared his throat. "Mr. Krasny, Prepare boarding procedure!"

The giant stirred slightly, opening one eyeball. He stood up straight, stretching out and yawning.

"Right you are." He knelt down on the floor, beckoning Tolken towards him. "Tolken, Come here. It's time to clean the cannon."

"Yay!" Tolken squeaked. "I like cleaning the cannon! It's fun!"

"Ah, but this is a special cannon cleaning." Krasny said, casting a grin in Cabal's general direction. "And do you know what I said about special cannon cleaning?"

Tolken looked around for a few minutes, as if he was trying to think. And then, his eyes sparkled and his grin stretched across his face.

"Gunpowder makes it extra, extra clean and spotless!" He said, almost bouncing with happiness.

"There's a good lad." Said Krasny, picking up the midget. "Now, in you go."

"Yes sir!" Tolken said enthusiastically as his head vanished into the cannon.

"Would you pass me that match please Cabal?" He said to the 1st mate, who proceeded to pass the lighted match over to the the Weapons operator. "FIRE!"

There was a deafening boom as Tolken was shot into the direction of the ship, which was still gently floating on the sea. There was a soft thump far off as Tolken hit the deck, and if you listened hard enough, a whispered "ouch!"

"What about this decking procedure?" Cabal asked, somewhat confused.

"That was stage one of it." Krasny said, calmly. "You see, anybody the little mite hasn't driven to insanity or suicide, we can kill when we board. Half the effort for the same amount of loot."

"That is pure genius." Cabal said, impressed by the man's intelligence. "So what now?"

"We wait." Krasny said, simply.

It was a few hours later, and Cabal, Andra and Krasny found themselves on the deck. Camel had drew the ship in closer to the seemingly deserted vessel. There was now a very flimsy looking boarding plank between the two ships, Andra seemed quite nervous and was fiddling with his sporran.

"Ach! Yer want us teh go over that?" He asked, staring at the plank as if it were a sheet of thin ice.

"But of course, how else are yer goin' to board the bloody thing?" The Cap'n asked.

"Ah was thinkin' that maybe we could, swing on ropes?"

"Don't be gettin' silly, lad! Now yer do as yer told, yeah?" Andra nodded under the stare of both Camel and his 1st mate. "Right, now yer get goin' and bring back as much as possible!"

"Right you are Sir!" Cabal barked as the Cap'n turned around. "Right then you 'orrible lot, Get over that plank, now! And I won't have any excuses Mr. "Who ate all the haggis" Andra. Ok?"

"Yeah, whatever." Said Krasny as he trampled over the plank.

"Aye, right yer are Mr. "Ah'm a... erm... big.. command... type.. person." Cabal." Andra said, later mumbling. "Yeah! Showed yer good yer bastard!"

[eLDiablo]

roflmao

great stuff

[Nyerguds]

Wewt! Teh Funnay mon! :D

[Artificial Idiot]

Note to Camel, a few dialogue mistakes are meant to be there, so... erm, just don't edit them out :p

-----

Cabal led the way as Krasny and Andra followed him though the desolate deck and then rooms and corridors of the lower ship. There were dead men everywhere. They were fresh corpses, richly dressed, the ornamental uniform of the Spammish royal guard. But below deck, they were just common sailors. In rags not much different to Krasny's.
"Wow, I knew that little mite was powerful, but this is all out slaughter!" Krasny said, surprised by the damage.

"I would guess that these people were killed by something other then Tolken." Cabal observed. "Notice the wounds, made by bullet and sword."

"Ah feel sick..." The scotsman moaned, going greener by the second. "Smells like rottin' 'aggis.."

"Quit your whining." Cabal whispered. "I can hear something."

Cabal edged closer to a room, the door was only open a crack , but he could hear voices inside.

"Well, while that may be a fault in my plan. But I am telling you a ten foot, steam powered metal monster with wings is the future!" Said a voice that Cabal did not recognise. It had the heavy accent of Spaim written all over it, a Spamyard. It also had a regal ring to it, possibly the only survivor of the clash on the deck. He continued to listen. "It will be a mighty creation, made of solid Iron, unbreakable by shot or arrow! It'll fly too! And you know what I'll call it? The Iron Dragon 3000!"

Cabal was about to storm in and kill the madman, when he heard another voice. It was a giggle, and one he knew well.

"Your funny! And you smell like a flower!" It was the rambling of Tolken. Cabal considered walking in and killing them both, but he then decided it was a waste of energy.

"Tolken is in there with another." Cabal whispered to the others. "It sounds like he's being tortured. Draw your weapons, we're going in."

Cabal drew his ornate, wooden handled pistol from his jacket, while Krasny had a long sword in his hand and Andra a haggis. He'd have told the Scotsman to stop being a fool, if he hadn't have seen how deadly a haggis could be.

"Right, after you Mr. Krasny." Cabal whispered, Krasny just nodded.

"Stand back" he warned before delivering a forceful kick to the door. The impact of the man's boots sent it flying off it's hinges, before coming to a premature stop at the other side of the room. Cabal followed the giant into the room, pistol first.

"Right then, you fiend! Let our friend go or die!" Cabal yelled, before he realised Tolken was sitting on a very well made chair. Cabal guessed it to be spammish, of the highest quality too. The other man was highly tanned, but other then that, he had no distinctive features. Cabal almost swore his eyes changed colour by the second. He bore no expression on his face, it seemed blank. He had an aura of invincibility about him, but was plain. Like a freshly forged bar of iron. Cabal relaxed his pistol.

"Who are you?" Cabal asked.

"My name is C.K.W" He began, he was well spoken. Although other then his strong spammish accent, his voice had no other defining quality. " Holy knight, Inquisitor of the 1st order, Highly trained physician, trainee Ninja with magical abilities, Treasurer of Spamyard, protector of the realm, chosen of the God's, professional sailor, heir to the bumpdom of Spaim, Head of international affairs, Spymaster, professional Ironsmith, Part time poet and playwright, Mr. Spamyard in last years "Mr. World", Killer robot from another dimension, Master of the secret order of The Dragon and Guardian for the Lady Wesforcia... Oh, I'm also a stripper on weekends. And I used to be a make up artist and dressmaker, but the Princess declared that I made her look like a "cheap Tart" and threw me out, declaring me a "fragger". How vulgar... but she is still fair and kind and noble."

"That's quite an impressive amount of skills." Cabal observed. "But it sounded as if you were an inventor as well."

The man sighed.

"I would be, but the King of Spaim refuses to fund my ideas." He said, the mans voice still seemed blank, lacking something. "Says my ideas are "Fantastical" at best."

"I see..." Cabal said, rubbing his chin. Ignoring Tolken's frantic waving and cries of "I'm Cabal's friend! I'm Cabal's friend! Lalalalala!"

"So, what does C.K.W stand for?" Krasny asked. "And more importantly, what happened here?"

"Well, in answer to your first, I'd have to kill you with my amazing, super strength, supernatural powers and razor sharp wit if I told you." Cabal found it extraordinary that the man even made threats without a change in voice or twitch of an eyebrow. "As to what happened. We were invaded by a bunch of Pirates. Of course, I would have killed them all at the start, all 500 of them, had it not been for them distracting me."

"Distracting you?" Cabal inquired.

"Yes, one said "Hey look behind you! There's a sexy female dragoness in Human form behind you showing her cleavage." Being curious, and there was no other reason other then curiosity I assure you, I turned around. Next thing I know, they struck my only weak spot that I had left uncovered as I wanted to maintain my all over tan." He stopped to allow the giggling laughter of the others. "Well, I was knocked straight out. And when I awoken, my men were dead, the princess was gone and this charming little fellow was stood over me."

"The Princess?" Cabal asked, suddenly curious.

"Yes, her grace was destined to be married to a humble Prince in France, I was here to protect her." He sighed, managing to do even that without a hint of feeling. "But unfortunately I have failed, and her fair Lady Wesforcia has fell into the hands of Pirates. I mean, what kind of ruffians would invade a ship so?"

Krasny and Andra whistled and shuffled their feet innocently, but Cabal was too intrigued to notice.

"The Lady Wesforica? Yes, we were travelling to France hoping to meet her." Cabal explained. "She is the figurehead of our ship, she is truly beautiful."

"Yes, yes she is." C.K.W said. "AND IF THOSE FILTHY PIRATES LAY A FINGER ON HER, I'LL SMASH THEIR FACE! THOSE FRAGGING BOLLOCKS!" he yelled suddenly.

He coughed, calming himself. He faced them once more, a blank expression.

"Ah, that ship. Yes it is a fine vessel."

"You know of it?" Cabal asked.

"Know of it!" The Spammish man said. "I built it! Well, I didn't. But I carved the likeness of our fair lady, it is a marvellous vessel. May it serve you well!"

"Right." Said Andra, who had got bored. "We'll be goin' now, aye?"

"Wait!" C.K.W urged. "Bring me back Lady Wesforcia, and the royal family of Spaim will reward you well!"

A reward for a missing Princess eh? Well, we could find her..." Cabal began. "But we'll need some gold upfront."

"Yep." Said Krasny, as Andra hadn't quite caught the drift of what Cabal was implying. "Lot's of gold... for expenses and all."

"Oh course, how silly of me." C.K.W said. "You in luck, it seems the pirates specifically targeted the Lady herself, nothing else taken. The gold vaults are straight down the corridor on the right, here take this key."

"Great, we'll be going on our way then." Krasny said. "Come on Tolken."

The midget jumped off his seat and ran over to Krasny, hugging his leg.

"Good bye Mr. AKUU" Tolken squeaked. "Good luck with your flying golden Donkey!"

[Wesforce]

W00t! Figurehead!!!! :color1:

[Nyerguds]

Ah! Finally!

Wow. CKW's introduction rocks, AI. Amazing :p

[Camel]

:D 'Lady Wesforcia'?? LOL :lol: :rofl:

[Artificial Idiot]

I'd just like to say, I'm currently working on my story comp entry, so the next bit will be somewhat delayed. Sorry.

[Wesforce]

DAMN YOU, STORY COMP!!!

Oh wait...

[Artificial Idiot]

Cabal looked out of the small porthole, he could see that Andra and krasny had almost finished off loading the gold from the Spammish ship. He was sitting in a meeting with the captain. He'd already described the meeting with the Spammish man and the tale of the lost princess, even after the Cap'n had just sat, leaning back on his chair, his hand rubbing his chin carefully. He occasionally made "hmm" like noises. He leaned forward on his chair, the two legs clattering on the wooden plank floor. He made another soft "hmm" and then spoke.

"So, we'd better get after those bastard pirates, aye lad?"

"That we should." Cabal agreed. "But they could be miles away by now, we'd never reach them."

"Arr, could be a problem that could me lad..." Camel said, shaking his head.


"I have a suggestion..." As soon as Cabal said these words, he wished he hadn't. "But you won't like it." He added hastily.

"Ah'm all ears." Said the Cap'n, calmly.

"Well sir, It involves Andra..."

"Stop the _ _ _ _ ing ship! I'm getting the _ _ _ _ off now!" Yelled Rolk from his perch on Camel's shoulder.

"Quiet you!" The Cap'n yelled. "Well, ah guess we ain't havin' a choice..."

Cabal said nothing, instead he scribbled a small note on a piece of paper. Then ripped it up, realising the Scotsman couldn't read anyway.

"Tolken, get over here." Cabal yelled. "I need you to tell Andra he's needed in the Captain's Quarters, on the double!"

"yes sir!" Tolken squeaked. Scuttling off. A few moments later, the burly Scotsman had marched though the door. His face was slightly blackened by working down at the furnaces for so long.

"Yer called Cap'n!" He snapped.


"Andra, I want you to preform the emergency procedure." Cabal said, watching the face of the Cap'n go from red to white.

"CABAL! Ah didn't authorise this!" The Cap'n yelled, mirrored by the cries and cursing of Rolk the parrot. The Scotsman had a manic grin on his face.

"Sir, we don't have a choice. If we want to catch that ship we need the boost!" Cabal protested.

"Aye, Ah'll be extra careful Cap'n!" Andra put in gleefully. "Yer can count on meh!"

"Fine, fine! But if we all die 'orrible deaths, ah'm holdin' yer responsible lad!" The Cap'n said, he then turned to Tolken. "Tolken, Sound the alarm, everyone below deck, double quick!"

The midget leaped out, screaming in a shrill little voice. A few moments later the entire crew were locked below deck, and the Cap'n, Cabal and Andra were down in the engine room. Camel watched in amazement as Andra stirred some foul smelling mixture.

"What on Earth is that?" Asked the Cap'n.

"It's meh special fuel." Said the Scotsman. "'aggis an' Chewin' gum."

"You have got to be _ _ _ _ ing kidding..." Said the parrot.

"Nope, It works! Ah swear it works!" Insisted the Scotsman. "One shovel load of this in yer engine an' it'll go fast as a ragin' 'aggis on a cold, winter's morn!"

"And you intend to put how much in?" Cabal asked.

"The whole bucket o' course!" Proclaimed the Scot.

"I want to get the _ _ _ _ off now!"

"The whole bucket!" Camel choked, he had to lean on the door frame for support. "Are yer flamin' well stark ravin' mad!"

"The way ah see it, we're either gonna catch the wee bastards or shoot right past 'em an' cut 'em off at the pass." Andra said simply.

Camel was about to protest, when Tolken wandered in, he looked as if he was looking for something. Camel saw the little fellow on the edge of tears, he knelt down and wrapped an arm around him.

"What's the matter, eh laddie?" Camel asked. Tolken gave him an utterly sorrowful look.

"I can't find nice Mr. Krasny..." he muttered, he slumped down in Camel's arms. "He said he was going to fine Mr. Stormycrow and he never came back."

"Dear God!" Camel whispered. "Me lads are outside on the deck! We need to get 'em!

"Noooo! Yer cannae do that laddie!" Andra said, waving his shovel around and almost taking the top of Cabal's head off. "It'll be ready soon!"

"He's right Sir, we can't risk any more life." Cabal said, almost unemotional. "Besides, by the time we get the hatches open, it would be too late. All you'd do is get thrown out of the ship by the immense speed of the ship."

"Fine." Said Camel grudgingly. " When your ready Mr. Andra."

"Your going to let nice Mr. Krasny go bye, bye?" Tolken's squeaky voice almost choked. Tears started to run down his impossibly cute face. But Camel knew it was for the best.

"Aye Cap'n!" Said Andra, as he started shovelling in the mixture. "Find yerself somethin' teh hold onto, it ain't gunna be a pleasant trip!"

***

And it wasn't. Cabal and Camel, with Tolken in his arms, ran as fast as they could from the engine room. Andra, being a stubborn Scottish git, continued to see the job done. As the ship's furnace started to expand and hiss violently, the ship took a slight lurch forward and then it happened. The ship shot forward like a kilted Scotsman on a cold day. The planks barely staying in place from the unnatural speed. Inside, the occupants of the ship were also having a tough time.
Andra, who had tried to run a little too late, ended up being thrown back against the furnace. He tried to pull himself away, all the time yelling about "meh googlies". Camel, Tolken and Cabal had been thrown down a corridor, they had been lucky enough to catch a hold of a nearby door frame, but Rolk wasn't so lucky. He was thrown straight though the glass of a nearby port hole, yelling "Oh _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _!!!!!!" all the way. meanwhile in the Kitchen, completely ignorant to what was going on in the rest of the ship, Nilloc was finishing todays dinner, nobody could say what it was. But it had enough spice on it to fill an Asian merchants inventory for a year.

"What la hell?" He asked as the ship took it's first lurch. "How am I, ze grande Nilloc, meant to cook with all zee lurchi... EEEEEK!"

Luckily for Nilloc, he was only thrown back back into a nearby cake he had baked.
Nobody really knew how long the ship maintained this speed, but it managed to stay together. That is until it stopped violently. Camel only had a few seconds to contemplate this until the ship caved in around him. His vision faded to black, as did the vision of the other crew members.

[sterio]

:D... that is all there is to say... and exiting as well...

[Toxic10x]

hmm, i've noticed the humor level correlates directly to the number of cheap-shots you take at andra :D
Keep up the good work ;)

[Camel]

:D Can`t tie a good story down.....

[Artificial Idiot]

hmm, i've noticed the humor level correlates directly to the number of cheap-shots you take at andra :D

Well obviously. In an ideal world, all the great works of fiction would revolve around taking cheap-shots at Andra. I mean, imagine Lord of the Haggis. With the vile creature Mcnub and his cowardly pathetic side Andrathesemileet.
Imagine DUNE, where all the Fremen have dodgey Scottish accents and feed off grinded down haggis... the list just goes on :p

[Wesforce]

Imagine DUNE, where all the Fremen have dodgey Scottish accents and feed off grinded down haggis... the list just goes on :p

I smell an idea for an RPG!!!!

[Toxic10x]

Hehe, it's true! And really, you just need to keep recycling the following 3 items- Haggis, kilts, and caber tossing (which, I might add, has yet to enter cap'n camel :p )

[Artificial Idiot]

It was now late in the evening, the sun a blaze of red as it was getting ready to set, allowing the moon to enter and cast it's dim light on the world. And for any sailors on the ocean, it would be a picture perfect sunset. The breeze played gently across the sea, as the endless expanse of blue rippled softly. Birds wheeled up ahead, fish swam carelessly below. It would have been perfect, but unfortunately, perfection doesn't last. And this particular perfection was broken by a vessel.
And a large vessel it was. Powered by the beating of thousands of Oars that stuck out from small port-holes in it's side. It was painted a pure white, with golden trim. The silver words "The Octopus of Questionable Virtue" glimmered on the side. The ship was named after the mythical sea creature who has captured the hearts of many with her charming looks and infinite (yet somewhat cryptic) wisdom. As the front of the ship comes into view, a figure head carved from the finest oak can be seen. It was a beautiful creature, her fish like tail following the line of the ship and dipping into the sea. The top half of her however, was humanoid. Her face, unfortunately, had been worn by the storms and battles this ship had endured, but it still held a certain beauty. Human, but somewhat unhuman.
Inside this ship there was the Captain's Quarters, which was probably unlike anything most sailors had ever seen. It was furnished with only the finest carpets, all the way from Mystical India. Over the windows hung silk curtains, cut from the finest fabric with a gold leaf pattern on them. Around the room were various pieces of richly decorated furniture and fine art.
On one of the chairs, sat a figure in noble attire. His jacket and trousers were green, with gold lining. He was wearing a white ruffled shirt, black leather shoes with a golden buckle and a green cloth hat with a feather stuck in it. He was a slender figure, not exactly skin and bones, but just below average weight. He was obviously a noble of some description, and obviously one that valued his looks rather then stuffing his face. The curious thing about him was that he was wearing a seeing-glass, a new invention. They were basically two pieces of specially cut glass, set in a wire frame that helped people see. It's said that it adds to a man's natural sex appeal, probably as he has to be insanely rich to afford them.

"Dr. Jones, Dr. Jones, callin' Dr. Jones. Dr. Jones, Dr. Jones wake up now..." He sang along to the phonograph in the corner of the room. There was a slight knock on the door, The man swiftly changed the phonograph to play "Mars, Bringer of war". "Yes, yes, do come in."

A man, in much more common clothing, entered the room. He was wearing a worn, black coat that was just a few centimetres from touching the floor. He was obviously a toughened old sailor, one eye missing, replaced by a red irised glass eye. He had a snarl plastered on his face.

"Good afternoon Mr. Sterio." The man said, his voice was deep. Full of menace.

"Ah, yes, yes I suppose it is." Sterio said, getting to his feet. "How goes the operation, Mr. Lpark?"

"Quite well, sir." Lpark replied. "The Princess is on board, I will be guarding her personally. Although sir, I still believe we should have killed that foolish noble."

"Now, now Lpark." Sterio said, calmly placing a hand on the Man's shoulder. "We needed somebody alive to tell Spaim about our little raid. Besides, I think any more blood would have made me sick."

"Yes quite." Lpark said in a sour tone. "Anyway, something moving at very high speed crashed into the back of our ship."

"Oh, really? Any structural damage?" Sterio inquired.

"There was some damage to the steering, but Secondary Slavemaster Nilsog already has those bastard n00b's working on it."

"Oh good. Can't have anything go wrong with the steering, we'd be going around and around in circles else. Perhaps forever!" Lpark rolled his eyes, and just nodded in agreement. "Is there anything else you would like? Perhaps you would care to join my for afternoon tea?"

"It's the morning, sir." Said Lpark. "And I really must be getting back to my duties."

"Ah yes, yes. Of course you do. Thank you for dropping by."

Lpark turned around, cursing the noble under his breath. When satisfied that the man was gone, Sterio walked over to the Phonograph and changed the track once again.

"I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world. Life in silver, gives me shivers..." He sang happily.

[Nyerguds]

INTRIGUE!

:p

[sterio]

Yay! :p

"C A L L I N G now, I'm calling you, calling you now!"

[eLDiablo]

rofl is all i can say.

[Artificial Idiot]

"Ugh..." Krasny groaned. He felt dry land under his hands, which had been quite unexpected. He heard Stormcrow choking up water next to him and the guttural cursing of Rolk the Parrot. It took him awhile to orientate himself, but he remembered now. That mad Scotsman had caused the ship to go into a state of low-down. He'd climbed to the Crow's Nest to get Stormcrow when it happened. The ship moved at inhuman speeds, making Krasny slip and fall. Yes, he'd been knocked out. Then he was here.
But where was here? Well, it was obviously outdoors, as Krasny could feel the sea breeze blowing on his back. But it wasn't the Cap'n's ship, was it? It felt bigger, but how would he have got on another ship? Was he washed out to sea and hauled in by some friendly fishermen? Krasny had a feeling that wasn't the case.

"Stormie, what happened?"

"No idea." The other man moaned. "One minute I was up in the Crow's Nest, the next it was just a blur and then bang, I'm here."

"Will you two shut the _ _ _ _ up!" Came the voice of Rolk, who had perched himself on Krasny's back.
Krasny went to get up and shake the bird off, when he felt the cold steel pressed against his throat.

"Oh _ _ _ _ ing hell, You've done it now!" Rolk muttered.

"Oh _ _ _ _" Krasny agreed.

* * *
Camel and Cabal were a bit more organised though. They already had Tolken tied and gaged, and as fun as it was, it did have a practical purpose. I mean, it's almost impossible to get the little bugger to shut up otherwise. Or at least, that's how Cabal put it.
And now, they were creeping though the lower deck of a vast galleon, weapons drawn. They had been flung straight though the hull of the ship, or at least that's how it seemed. When they had awoken, they found themselves surrounded by armed guards. This would have been a problem, had Tolken not screamed at the top of his lungs. As the guards dropped to the floor, Camel and Cabal thanked the heavens that their own ears were water logged.
And they had much more to be thankful for, It turns out that according to one of the guards they had questioned, this was a pirate ship. A pirate ship that contained what they were seeking, The Lady Wesforcia herself. She was in a room marked with a piece of blue ribbon.

"Ah think I can see it, lad." Camel whispered, as he stopped by the door.

"Ok, you first. I'll cover you." Cabal said, raising his gun. Camel nodded.

The Cap'n opened the door. The hinges obviously had not been oiled in months, and squealed as they swung the door aside. Inside there was a simple room. It had a straw stuffed bed, a simply made wooden chair and a leather bound book. Sat on the chair, he could see a mop of curly blue hair travelling down below the neck and brushing against a pale blue dress. It looked quite unkempt, but Camel guessed it would have once been the envy of every woman. For this, was the fabled Lady Wesforcia. He was sure of it.
He stepped into the room, Cabal following cautiously, leaving the still tied Tolken by the door frame. Camel carefully brushed the hair aside, and placed a hand on who he believed to be the princesses shoulder. She jumped slightly, startled, but then turned around.
Camel found himself staring into the deep, emerald green eyes of the Princess Wesforcia. Even though he had expected it, the actually beauty of her stunned him. She was even more impressive then the figurehead on his ship. Which was actually a shock, usually pieces of art were exaggerated. But if anything, the figurehead had been toned down!

"Oh, I am so glad you've come..." She said, raising from the chair. Her voice was like a choir of angels. "I do assume you are here to rescue me?"

"Why, y-yes we are." Camel stuttered. He cleared his throat and recovered, when Wesforcia threw her arms around him.

"I'm so glad your here, but alas, I have a little surprise for you..." Camel crumpled to the floor as the Princesses knee connected with a sensitive part of the Cap'n's body. Once Cabal got over the shock that said part still felt anything, he aimed at the woman, but found another pistol to his head before he could shoot.

"Surprise." Muttered Lpark in a sinister tone as he appeared from the other side of the door.

"I never, never want to have to do that again!" Wesforcia complained. "That was utterly degrading."

* * *
"Row, Row, Row..." Were the first words Andra heard upon waking up. And they were already doing Andra's head in. They were accompanied by the beating of a large drum, that Andra could not see at the moment. But what he could see was depressing. Hundreds of slaves, all chained up and rowing in rhythm to the drum. Andra was about to mindlessly get up and wander off, when he felt a soft tugging on his kilt.

"Le Andra, You are awake!" It was the voice of Nilloc, the chef.

"Nilloc, whut yer doin' 'ere aye?" Andra asked.

"Le ship, it was going so fast, and then poof, le grande Nilloc was here." Nilloc explained.

"Aye, right yer are then!" Andra said, realising his backside was still stinging and turning onto his stomach. "Let's git our bonnie wee arse outta 'ere then!"

The two started shuffling along the rows of slaves. But Andra had realised that the drumming had stopped, and something large was looming over them. Very large.

[eLDiablo]

Krasny went to get up and shake the bird off, when he felt the cold steel pressed against his throat.

* * *
"Surprise." Muttered Lpark in a sinister tone as he appeared from the other side of the door.

* * *
The two started shuffling along the rows of slaves. But Andra had realised that the drumming had stopped, and something large was looming over them. Very large.

woot, suspense.

[sterio]

Well, I was going to say "Ooh, suspense!", but instead I'm just going to tell you to read Lparks post... so:

Read Lparks post...

[Artificial Idiot]

After a long walk down the twisting and turning corridors of the ship, Camel and Cabal were pushed into a small room. It was much like a noble man's office, with one grand desk in the centre. Camel saw Krasny and Stromcrow sat on two of the simple wooden chairs laid out for him and his crew. He noticed two were missing.

"No Andra or Nilloc." Cabal whispered to him.

"Does this mean they are our only hope?" Camel whispered, fearing the worse.

"It would seem that way." The groan Camel gave in reply was inaudible.

The two were sat down on two of the chairs, Rolk fluttering over to Camel's shoulder. Camel looked at the grand desk, it had a seat which had it's back facing the captives. All around the well furbished room, guards stood. And Camel noticed that as Lpark passed by, he and Cabal glared at each other.

"Good to see you Cabal." Lpark began. "Although, I would have thought you would have been living a life of luxury in a mansion on the Spamish coast by now."

"Indeed." Cabal replied. "And I would have thought they'd have locked a thief like you up by now."

Camel saw an eyebrow raise on Lpark's face, a mocking smirk spread across his mouth like a disease.

"You have the cheek to call me a thief? May I remind you that it was you who stole the gold!"

Camel was completely lost by this point.

"I stole nothing!" Cabal said defiantly. "That gold was rightfully mine, and you damn well know it! You back stabbing bastard!"

Lpark was about to reply, but a cough from Wesforcia stopped him.

"I would honestly love to let this little pissing match continue, but how about you 'lil boys kiss and make up?" She said from her half sitting, half standing position on the edge of the desk. She winked at no one in particular.

"He started it." Lpark muttered. It was odd how the put down of a beautiful woman could crush even the strongest man's spirt. However, Sterio wasn't happy. He spun the chair around to face the "prisoners", slamming his fist on the desk. Making Wesforcia go off balance and slip slightly.

"Well, that is just perfect Lpark, perfect!" He yelled, face red with anger. "You just completely ruined my dramatic entrance!"

Lpark rolled his eyes.

"I'm sorry, sir. Would you care to do it again?"

"I'll have too." He muttered, spinning back around halfway. He then spun the chair around again, to face the Cap'n. "Ah, so we meet at last Mr... Mr.. ARGH!"

"Shall we try again, sir?" Lpark sighed.

"No, no. The show must go on. Because as you know, There's no business, like show business like no business I know..." Sterio hummed along happily. He stopped when he noticed the others staring blankly at him. "What? It's a classic! Anyway... erm, where was I?"

"You were about to show them that you were serious and not just a bungling idiot with too much money, sir." Lpark said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Ah, yes. Yes of course I was." Sterio sat twiddling his thumbs for a moment. "Carry on Lpark."

"Thank you, sir." Lpark pulled his black handled pistol from inside his jacket. "Now unfortunately, You have seen too much. And thus, can't be allowed to live. Now, we could just throw you overboard, let the sharks do the job. But I'm a direct man, and I like to be sure my jobs are done."

He pointed the pistol directly at Cabal, his gloved finger resting on the trigger. The world seemed to stand still for those few seconds, but at the last moment, Lpark's hand swerved. Aiming directly at Krasny.
It all happened so fast, and yet it unfolded so slowly in front of Camel's eyes. The banging sound of the gun seemed to last a lifetime. But when it was over, and Camel chanced a look at the gentle giant. He saw him lifelessly slipping to the floor, a blood soaked hole between the eyes.

"Now, who's next?" Sinister didn't begin to describe the look on Lpark's face.

* * *

Andra and Nilloc were having their own problems. Neither had risked looking at the looming shadow that hung over them, and Nilloc seemed too petrified to even readjust his hat. But it didn't look friendly, whatever it was. This was enforced by a threatening snarl heard overhead.

"Alright ah noo..." Andra muttered to Nilloc. "Dun't yer be movin', aye?"

Nilloc just mumbled in agreement. Andra reached for his Sporran, his hand searching for a Haggis. At first he found nothing, but then something cold brushed against his fingers.

"A fruzen 'aggis? Whut teh blazes 'ave ah got a fruzen 'aggis for?" He asked, but there was no time to change it. He grabbed Nilloc and rolled aside, narrowly avoiding a fist larger then Andra's head.
And sprang to his feet, Haggis level with the enemy. He saw the bulky form of Nilsog. Secondary Slave Master of the Octopus of Questionable Virtue and beater of the drum. Andra ducked to avoid another swing of that massive fist, it impacted with a nearby slave, breaking his jaw and probably a good many more things.
Andra took a swing with his Haggis, but missed horribly, decapitating a poor slave for life. The battle went on like this for awhile, and after an epic show-down costing many slaves their lives, a voice came to Andra.

"Oi yer wee Bastard, did ah not teech yer nuthin'?" It was the voice of Andra's great uncle Angus. "Use yer kilt yer 'aggis turd!"

With that, in a last ditch attempt to sway the fight in his favour, Andra spun around and lifted his kilt. This action cost many more slave's their lives, and Nilsog his eyesight. Not that it mattered, for Andra spun around with all his might and unleashed frozen, haggis like death upon Nilsog. Sending the brute of a man sprawling across the lowest deck of the ship, straight into his drum.
Andra walked calmly over to the dazed behemoth, placing a foot on his chest. This would have been the part where the hero says something really witty, or repeats a famous catchphrase. Unfortunately, Andra and wit were never a good combination, so he just placed a good, hard kick to the Nilsog's stomach. Sending him, and his drum, though the hull of the ship and into the vast, unforgiving ocean.

"Well, that wus sommat, eh?" Andra said walking back over to Nilloc. "Where d'ya think teh Cap'n 'as gone?"

"I does not 'ave le slightest clue." Nilloc said. "But I have ze plan for freeing us!"

Nilloc pulled a knife from his apron and started trying to pick the lock on the slaves binding the chain. Andra watching him for a moment, shrugged and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Ah found this 'ere set o' keys, whut should ah do with 'em?"

Nilloc stared at him blankly, then uttered a string of curse words in French. He snatched the keys from the Scotsman and began unlocking the chains.

[Nyerguds]

Another few forum members brutally murdered... Whatever did poor Nilsog do to deserve such a horrible fate? :p

[sterio]

"No, no. The show must go on. Because as you know, There's no business, like show business like no business I know..." Sterio hummed along happily. He stopped when he noticed the others staring blankly at him. "What? It's a classic! Anyway... erm, where was I?"


Well it is! :p


Good twist to the storyline, AI...

[Andra]

Good choice of members to kill ^_^ :p

[Artificial Idiot]

Good choice of members to kill ^_^ :p
Keep that up and you are next :evil: :shifty:

:p

[Wesforce]

Another few forum members brutally murdered... Whatever did poor Nilsog do to deserve such a horrible fate? :p

You have to ask? :wtf: :p

Use yer kilt yer 'aggis turd!"

With that, in a last ditch attempt to sway the fight in his favour, Andra spun around and lifted his kilt. This action cost many more slave's their lives, and Nilsog his eyesight.

Sheer, sheer class :D

Poor Krazy. He would have been proud :cry:

[Toxic10x]

hehe, 10$ says Kras returns in zombified form :p

[Nyerguds]

Keep that up and you are next :evil: :shifty:

:p
Nah. You need him to make fun of :p

[Apache_Longbow]

Its true. Without Andra this stroy would be nothing :p

Great stuff AI :D

[Artificial Idiot]

Whatever did poor Nilsog do to deserve such a horrible fate? :p
He stole my Acronym for a start :p

***
"I honestly can't decide which one of your ugly mugs to blow off next." Lpark said, still looming over them with the pistol. "They say no opinion is fairer then a woman's. What do you think, Lady Wesforcia?"
All eyes turned to the Spamish Princess. She pondered the question for a moment, almost hair deep in thought, and then answered.

"None of them are really lookers, are they?" She replied. "Well, I have to admit the parrot is kind of cute. Perhaps I can keep him as a pet."

She winked at Rolk. The bird ruffled his feathers and was busy clearing his throat and being entranced with a piece of fluff on the Cap'n's jacket. He was thinking of his trademark obscenity in a different context.

"Yer'll never get away with this!" Camel piped up. "Ah swear on me dying breath that this rust bucket, an' all that sail on it will sink below the waves!"

Lpark was about to laugh in the old man's face, when he noticed Sterio's eye was twitching. The man gulped, he considered shooting the enraged noble. As he, unlike the others, had the advantage of knowing what was coming next.

"How dare you! How dare you, sir! What give you the... the... there is no word in English or Spamish to describe your ignorance! How can you describe this marvel of artistic genius, this... this wonder of the modern age as an "it"! As an inanimate object, as mere planks of wood! No, this vessel has life! It is a maiden of the sea!" He rose from his chair, placing both his hands flat on his desk. He was looking directly into Camel's eye's when he yelled, "It's a SHE!"

The noble man barged out of the room, face red with anger. Lpark was about to continue, but it wasn't even a matter of seconds before the noble had flung the door open, this time his face had grown a pale shade. White with fear you might say.

"L-Lpark... you might want to look at this..." Sterio insisted. Lpark would have brushed him off, but he sensed it was serious.

"Fine, hold this." He threw the pistol to Wesforcia. "If they move, kill them."

"It would be a pleasure." She smiled. Adding "The most pleasurable thing I've done on this floating fortress" in her mind.

Lpark looked out the open door. A mutter of "Oh _ _ _ _" was heard, then he slammed the door. Or at least, he would have. If the still tied up Tolken hadn't been blocking the doorway. There was a muffled squeak as Lpark kicked him out the way, but it was too little, too late. A large booted foot blocked the door this time. And Lpark knew this wasn't good.

He pulled out a knife, but before he could strike a fork embedded it's self in his shoulder. He dropped the knife, and before he could react Stormcrow had ran from his seat to tackle him. Wesforcia was about to shoot, but in a daring move, Cabal wrestled the pistol off her. He didn't have much time to celebrate, because he soon found a diamond ring implanted in his face.

"What's the matter?" Wesforcia said to the now unconscious Cabal. "Thought I would break a nail?"

In her momentary gloating, Wesforcia failed to notice the little chef run into the room and jump onto the desk Wesforcia was standing by.

"Vive la France!" He yelled as he shoved his chef's hat over her face. As she struggled to get it off, Nilloc followed the example of the others and punched her. Now, Nilloc wasn't well versed in fighting, so while his punch was strong enough to down Wesforcia, the pain in his hand almost brought him to tears.

"Good job Nilloc." Camel said, slapping him on the back. "Didn't know yer had it in yer, lad."

"Medic..." The Frenchman sobbed.

Meanwhile, Lpark lashed out at Stormcrow with his wrist spikes, making deep cuts down the man's cheeks, but still unable to shake him off. He couldn't even kill him! So it came as quite a shock when he found himself elevated a couple of feet from the floor.

"Ah got 'im Cap'n!" Andra said proudly, as he displayed Lpark. Who was still pointlessly lashing out at thin air.

"Good work Mr. Andra!" Said Camel.

The guards were about to spring into life, having the intelligence of a fried haggis they had only just realised they were being invaded, but held back and dropped their weapons as a swarm of slaves from the lower deck pushed past Andra into the room. The Guards lowered their weapons and surrendered. Letting the slaves run past them to the desk. They tipped it over and found Sterio hiding underneath.

"Oh.. erm.. good day..." He stuttered as the sea of faces stared at him. "Erm.. I... surrender?"

But it was too late, for him and Lpark. The slaves swept them both away, kicking, screaming and cursing all the way.

"Andra..." Camel began. "What did yer do, lad?"

"Ve let all ze slaves go, they are taking over le ship as we speak, Cap'n!" Nilloc answered in Andra's place.

"Taking over?" The Cap'n asked, helping the groaning form of Cabal to his feet.

"Aye Cap'n. Dun't worry, we got it under control!" Camel didn't like the sound of that. "Whut we doin' with the lass?"

"Oh, I don't know. Go tie 'er up." Camel said. "We'll think about it later."

"Yes, Cap'n!" Andra said, dragging the form of the Princess away.

"Right, the rest of yer, I want yer on deck on the double! We got a lot of work to do!" He looked at the pitiful form of Tolken. And then to the corpse of Krasny. "Get him untied, and I want Krasny on the deck as well."

"Yes Cap'n" The remaining crew muttered.

[Nyerguds]

Wow. So Wesforcia astually actively helped the badguys... I didn't really expect that.

[Artificial Idiot]

Wow. So Wesforcia astually actively helped the badguys... I didn't really expect that.
Well, if you didn't take the hint when her knee connected to Camel's "goolies", then I don't know what you're standards of "activily helping" are :p

[eLDiablo]

Well, if you didn't take the hint when her knee connected to Camel's "goolies", then I don't know what you're standards of "activily helping" are :p
rofl

[Artificial Idiot]

"There's a lot that can be said about Krasny. But ah know the lad would want me to keep it short." Camel said. He was stood on deck with the remaining crew, Krasny's body was lay on the deck. Wrapped in an old Union Jack they found lying about. "He was a brave, loyal and hardworking man. Ah couldn't have hoped for a better crew man. God bless ye soul, and may the sea take you to rest. Rest in peace, Krasny Jason Oktyabr."

"Rest in peace." The rest of the crew muttered. Poor little Tolken was in tears.

They all moved aside as Andra barged past. Camel had managed to convince him not to play the bagpipes. He picked up the body, the weight was almost too much for him. Not that Krasny was fat, he was just very tall and very muscular. Andra tossed the corpse overboard, and as he thought it was a lot like a caber. Which was fortunate, as Andra just so happened to be Champion Caber tosser of the Aberdeenshire Lowland Games for 4 years running.
That over and done with, the crew wandered back to their new stations on the new ship. Camel and Cabal walked over to a small gathering of slaves who were surrounding something protectively. One of them walked over to Camel.

"They are here Sir, awaiting your judgement!" Camel nodded, the slave ordered the protective circle to be disbanded. And there sat a very angry Lpark and a very tired Sterio. They were tied up with some of the spare docking rope from the stores of the ship.

"Good Morning." Said Camel, Lpark growled at him. "Now, I'd love to let you go. But you, Mr. Sterio is it? Well, these folk ain't too happy with you I'm afraid, and majority rule I'm afraid. And you." He pointed at Lpark. "I had to send one of my finest men to the sea because of you! That is unforgivable!"

"Very well! But you won't get away with this!" Sterio practically ranted out. "One day, mark my words, these treacherous beasts will turn on you too! And then it will be you! You, not I! That is tied to the floor and facing death, and on that day, I shalt be laughing from heaven!"

"Maybe so." Cabal said. "But until then, this ship will serve us well. It is, after all, a fine vessel."

Camel and Cabal walked away from the two. Leaving Sterio to shout "IT'S A SHE! A SHE!" madly at their backs. They had decided to let the slaves deal with those two as part of a long term agreement. Last Camel heard, they were being thrown overboard. But they could be shot or cut to pieces at the last minute. Either way, it didn't matter to Camel.

* * *

A week later, Camel and Cabal were sat in a small office they had found in the ship. They were still exploring and getting to grips with the vessel, however, the slaves seemed well versed in it's twisting corridors and endless doorways, so there was no need to panic. Camel sipped at the tankard of beer in front of him, best pint he'd had since he'd left. But there were still important matters to be dealt with, such as where to go next and more importantly, what to do about the Lady Wesforcia.

"She's been banging on in there for a week now." Said Cabal. "We can't even get food into her any more, without her attempting to rip our limbs off."

"Well, I would say just _ _ _ _ the bitch lad. But there's still that reward." Camel and Cabal looked over their drinks thoughtfully. "I guess we'll just have to put up with it. She escapes, someone will catch her."

"Yes, I am quite sure my ears will get used to her screaming "Let me the frag out, you fraggers!" eventually." Camel nodded in agreement, both men had lost a lot of sleep because of that.

"It'll be worth it when we get her back to Spamyard." Camel said. "And I don't care how much she protests, she's bloody well going back."

"You do realise you're severely spoiling my _ _ _ _ ing chances, don't you?" Rolk muttered. He was swiftly ignored.

"I honestly don't know why she is protesting. They treat royalty like God's on Earth over there."

"Ah well, yer can't please them all my lad." Cabal nodded and sipped at his own tankard. Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Come in."

Andra stumbled into the room, trying not to bang his head on the door way. His face was black with soot and oil, but there was a satisfied grin on his face.

"Engine installed, tested an' ready teh go Cap'n." Camel smiled. He had ordered the building of an engine, much like the one in his old ship. This was far more practical then having slaves row it along, it would eventually be cheaper as well.

"Very well Andra, get ready to sail." Camel ordered. "And tell Mr. Stormcrow to set a course for Spamyard."

"Aye, sir!" Andra snapped. Almost knocking himself out on the door frame on the way out, again.

"Well, Cabal my lad." Said Camel raising his tankard. "A toast, to the future."

"To the future indeed." Cabal said, tipping his tankard.

The two old friends drank together. And at this moment in time, even through all the danger, excitement and cheap shots at Andra's nationality. Somehow, It felt as if not a lot had changed since those lazy days at the Three Camel's.
And as the Octopus of Questionable Virtue drifted peacefully along the current, Only the song of the birds could be heard above the gentle rustling of the ocean. That was, until Andra had made a mistake in the engine calculations and started cursing "The son of a haggis", making Tolken scream at the top of his lungs as "The bad man Andra was using nasty words!" and causing the rest of the crew to yell at the Scotsman (Nilloc even threw a freshly baked cake at him). No, not much had changed at all.

The End.

[Wesforce]

*blinks*

I... I can;t believe... Is it really over?

NO00000OOOoooo00ooOOO00oo!!!!!1111

[sterio]

'Tis sad that it should be over, but that is a very good ending. Indeed it is probably the best chapter of the story. Except of course the fact that I die. That is a major flaw... :p

[Nyerguds]

Wow. This is amazing.

No happy end for Lady Wesforcia, it seems :p

[Toxic10x]

**standing ovation**

yay! You even got caber tossing in before the end :D

[Artificial Idiot]

Wow. This is amazing.

No happy end for Lady Wesforcia, it seems :p
She's breathing isn't she? :p

[Apache_Longbow]

*blinks*

I... I can;t believe... Is it really over?

NO00000OOOoooo00ooOOO00oo!!!!!1111

[eLDiablo]

ill be back damnit! ILL BE BACK!!!!!
:p

[Wesforce]

She's breathing isn't she? :p

What if Rolk gets his way? :shifty:

[Artificial Idiot]

What if Rolk gets his way? :shifty:
She'd probably just laugh at his manhood, proclaim him a fragger and ring his neck... Or something along those lines :p

[Blue Aurora]

Beautiful. :cool: When you'll write a sequel AI? :rockbrow: