POOHEAD189

Gold & Glory: AU thread

Markus felt a bit sore on his backside, and a sense of vertigo had washed over him for a brief moment until he got his bearings. The telltale clinking of gold had halted, save for when he moved his hand, sending a small avalanche of coins tumbling down the veritable hill of gold that had accumulated in his cabin. It filled almost the entirety of his floor, covering his desk and even shoving into the underside of his cot. Markus rubbed his head, blinking as he adjusted. The sun was now almost fully lowered in the sky, so he gathered himself up and went to reignite the oil lamp beside the door.

As the flame kindled, he heard a groan behind him. Emmaline, stark naked atop the pile of gold, looked slightly hurt but very much healthy and alive. Beside her on the ground was the brass lamp, as still as if there was naught in it but air. Markus idly locked the door behind him so there were no more interruptions, and he knelt down beside Emmaline to check the small scratches on her lush form.

"I didn't think he would harm you, I'm sorry." He told her, sliding his callused hand softly over her stomach and up her chest. The captain looked past her at the very siezable treasure they had and snorted. "I think this is payment enough though, don't you?"

He produced her sapphire necklace out of his cloak fold and gently slid it over her head to hand about her slender neck. "Let's stay in the ship for the time being, ay?" He said, and then gave a wicked smile as his hand cupped her chin. "I wonder how we'll pass the time..."

Gold & Glory: AU thread

There was pounding on the door behind them. A dim voice called questioningly, and another, louder bang was heard. Markus cursed, though he knew he should count himself lucky that the princess had locked the door behind them. That, and Emmaline seemed to be back to her old self. Once they got out of this mess, he'd give the witch her the necklace back, he reminded himself.

The blades flashed in the lamplight, sending shadows and light spiraling across the chamber. It was briefly halted by Emmaline's launching of various peices of furniture. The first one Mavikim ducked under, which meant it was flying at Markus. The pirate leaped out of its path just in time before it shattered into the ground. "Hey-!" He tried to call at Emmaline, but he was too busy to continue as she continued to throw various objects as he waded in and out of combat. His boot audibly scraped along the ground after another lunge by Mavikim, who was beginning to look a bit more desperate. He had the look of one that wasn't used to not being in complete control of the situation. How did that work for his Eunuch outside? Markus thought wryly.

Meanwhile, the Arabyan woman had slunk away from Emmaline's position, eyes still intent on the lamp. The action of the two men fighting had kept even the asp's attention from her, though it seemed Mavikim was acutely aware of her position. Abruptly, Mavikim made a wild sweep of his curved blade, swiping across Markus's guard. It was a bit less skilled than his previous attacks. Had Markus been a lesser swordsman, he wouldn't have been able to recover so quickly, but Mavikim's intentions became evidently clear once he made a dive passed Markus, grabbing for the lamp within the coils of the adder. Jahazra screamed in denial and scrambled for it as well.

Markus lashed out with his knee, crashing into the diving Mavikim's chest like a hammer. It stung the pirate, but it sent the Arabyan Pasha flying off course into a rough tumble along the hard floor. The asp hissed, but halted once it felt its lengthy body losing the item it had been wrapped about from a sudden lift and a shake. The Princess had more confidence than she had before, it seemed. Like a child yanking a toy out of their younger sibling's hands, she let the snake fall to the floor and held aloft the small brass item, giddy as could be. In fact, she looked positively wicked in the fiery light, cackling.

"Yes!" She cried, raising the thing high into the air above her. Markus had to admit the light and the sudden nefarious turn to the once demure woman was fairly alluring in a way. She smiled wickedly, rubbing the faded brass along its side with her diminutive palm. "The power is mine! The power of the dreaded Djinn that only sultan's wield! Mightly Djinn, kill all in the room save me and make me the Pasha of this land! Do my bidding under Allah!"

The pronouncement sent echoes across the room, and Mavikim looked utterly defeated; horrified even.

But after the seconds passed, it eventually became clear that nothing had happened. The asp flicked its tongue in annoyance and slithered lazily over to Emmaline as Markus sheathed his backsword. The tension and fear mounting in the princess, who now realized she had shown her true colors, was palpable. Markus smiled with a smug expression, letting it slowly sink in that she held a small pot, rather than a lamp.

"This must be embarrassing for you," Markus tsked, shaking his head and drawing out a brass lamp from the folds of his cloak. Emmaline cackled in surprise whilst the Princess's jaw dropped. The pirate chortled, unable to halt his amusement at the two Arabyans utter defeat. "You know, I wasn't entirely certain how to use this thing. I figured I'd wait and let things play out, so I did a small switch. Thanks for letting me know that you need to rub it..."

With a wicked smile, he did so.

An unseen force popped the top off of the lamp like it had been flicked derisively. Despite his bravado, Markus was a supersitious man. He did his best to hold his dignity in check once the swirling torrent of smoke and flame leaped out of the small brass lamp like a Tilean Typhoon! Up and up it went, gathering in size and splendor, filling the very top of the large bedchamber with its girth as the storm coalesced into a being the shape of a herculean man. Markus blinked, not entirely knowing what to expect. A part of him thought it was a daemon of the north, but Emmaline didn't seem frightened, only enraptured by the sight. The thing's skin was the color of blood and coal, depending on where the light hit it. Bangles were clutched to his forearms, and its beard and hair were braided and long. Its blazing eyes gazed about the room, emitting a deep rumble from its belly that erupted into a full blown laugh.

"So!" It said, its voice echoing with immense authority. It pierced the very mind and commanded obedience, though Markus knew it was a ruse. The pirate was not the slave here, so he raised his head high as the Djinn spoke. "My master and that woman whom I stole have been degraded! I have waited many years for such a sight. Who is it that summons me to such a treat?" It demanded, glinting with lusty interest at Emmaline until it followed the path of the smoke to Markus.

"Great Djinn!" He cried to it. "I have heard tale you do the bidding of any who hold your lamp! But I do not wish to enslave someone so great as you. Let us parlay, mighty one!"

"Parley?" The Djinn remarked, thinking. Its massive hand, somehow both gaseous and solid all at once, stroked its wispy beard. Markus gave another wink at Emmaline. "What would you wish of me, northern one?"

"I wish you send both me and Emmaline Von Morganstern back to our ship with all of the gold in this palace!" He cried, and an evil smile spread across his face. "But I do not desire for you to be without compensation, as your previous master had so rightly denied you! Do that, and I shall allow you to acquire both the pasha and the princess as your own slaves! To help you pass the time in your millennia of bondage."

Gold & Glory: AU thread

"It is the Pasha's orders." Markus declared, face once again wrapped within the strange Arabyan helm.

The two guards, less armed and less large than the elite men outside, glanced at one another. Despite being of a lesser variant in height, they clearly were (to your average man) dangerous by the way they held themselves. The two eyed the Princess that stood before them, the lithe woman attempting to appear both subservient yet brusque in manner, at least as far as she could. She had spoken to Markus only briefly; too soon to gauge on whether he was a threat. She had to admit if he wanted her dead he could have done it far earlier, and likely to greater benefit unless there were strange circumstances about.

"Hurry and move, slave." She snapped at them, drawing both ire and confusion from how she spoke. "My love had ordered me to come and see him. Yes, I know of the foreign whore, but I still do as he bids, as you do. Hurry or your lives will be forfeit!"

He knew she was a native to the land, but Markus wished he sounded as fluent as she did. He saw their will collapsing, breathing easier once he realized they were about to let them in. Until they heard a muffled yelp and a frustrated cry through the oak and brass door, and not that of a woman. Markus couldn't help but smile at that. Only Emmaline could make a man sound like that, which meant she was still alive!

The moment passed and the two guards turned, Markus grabbing the Princess's forearm so she didn't do anything rash. He watched as the left mamluk fumbled for the leather thong around his neck where the doorkey lay. Hastily the guards went to opening the door, pushing against the heavy material and swinging it in to reveal the situation in the room. A fit, dark man wielding a sword searched high and low for something no one could guess whilst a naked Emmaline was bound and strapped across the room, a long cut and a few bruises on her fair skin. The Princess gasped, but Markus elbowed past her and ran the first guard through whilst his back was turned, his backsword blade erupting out of the man's chest. He didn't hesitate, yanking it out and slashing the next guard across the face as he turned, sending him screaming onto the floor of the room.

Markus pulled the Princess along, telling her to close the door behind them in harsh Arabyan as he saw Mavikim finally noticing them, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"Jahazra?" He asked incredulously, blinking. He seemed almost too amused to be mad, but there was indeed a simmering rage beneath his visage. "You dare betray me? Is this your pathetic attempt at a coup?" The pasha held his sword in the practiced stance of a dervish, glaring at the Princess in a way that promised a slow and painful death. She shrank back behind Markus, who remained unmoved save for the quick downward thrust that ended the door guard's life.

"No, it's mine." Markus said in Reikspiel, pulling down the scarf to reveal his suntanned but clearly unArabyan face. He gave Emmaline a wink, and despite her injuries she seemed ecstatic at his sudden arrival. The look on Mavikim's face was priceless, though it was nothing compared to the look he gained when an asp slithered along the floor just before Markus's feet, an old brass lamp in the coils of its tail. Both swordsman glanced down, and then at one another.

"Jahazra," The Captain told the woman, eyes never leaving the dark man that approached. "Free my lover while I kill the pasha."

That was what set the scene in motion. Mavikim suddenly leaped with impressive grace just as Markus bent down to scoop up the oil lamp with his offhand. Mavikim thought to halt the move, but Markus merely rolled out of the way, Mavikim's scimitar slamming into the smooth floor with a 'clang!' The Captain rose up from a new position and grinned, raising his backsword up in a block from Mavikim's next attack that sent sparks flying.

Urban Shadows

My vote is either for Chicago or an unnamed custom city.

Dungeon Builder Monster Extraordinaire

@Mae I would like the ritual to sort of 'improve' his minions, sort of like granting them a small bit of increased strength and endurance to better serve him.

Gold & Glory: AU thread

The gardens were uncharacteristically lush compared to what the pirate had expected. He could tell the pasha siphoned many tons of precious water from the city to this place in order to keep it as alive and vibrant as it appeared. Large hedges had buffeted into the sky, immaculately cut in the fashion of mythic beasts and great works of architecture, whilst feral wildflowers had been planted along their bases to keep anyone from getting too close. As Markus crept, he drew out a knife and hid it beneath his closed hand and wrist to keep it on hand, hearing the spring water grow louder and louder as he approached. It was good he was so cautious, for he nearly stepped out of the hedgeline and into the spring 'area' just in front of a lovely young Arabyan woman. Her bedlah pants and crochet top were indigo, hugging her dark skin as she sat bored, although she wasn't alone.

A hairless fellow stood before her, bedecked in robes that denoted he had a trusted status amongst Mavikim's court, Markus had to guess. The pirate had knelt down and watched through a small opening of one of the great walls of foliage that towers across the grounds. The man seemed to be lecturing the woman over some slight, or perhaps warning her. He unwound clothed helmet upon his head and pressed his ear to the hole, closing his eyes.

"-before you are disciplined as the others. You may be the chief wife, but he does not look kindly upon women who disobey him." The man, possibly a Eunuch of Markus had to guess, berated to the woman. He spoke like he took great pride in making demure servants scared, likely because he used to be just as powerless.

"It will not happen again. Please, lord Khazeem, I simply wish to be left alone." She explained, but it was followed by a small gasp and a brief struggle. Bits of water could be heard splashing, though he spoke before Markus would remove his ear to see with his eyes.

"That is good to hear, princess. Even now he makes a foreign whore his plaything. Once he is finished with her you will be his only means of...expunging his wickedness. I doubt today's session will not end in her life." He gloated, chortling by the end. Markus's heart skipped a beat, realizing he might have made a mistake if this pasha was particularly cruel. Once again he mused if it was not better for Emmaline to be gone from the ship, but almost immediately that thought was purged. Merely a runoff notion from back when he considered her a liability. The captain had already come to terms with their mutual feelings and desire for one another, and soon a fear gripped him when he thought of her safety. He decided it was time to move a bit quicker than usual.

As the princess began to cry, she placed her face in her hands. It came as a shock to her when the steward's chastisement suddenly ceased, and she poked her eyes up to see a rakish northman with a knife to Khazeem's throat. Her mouth opened and closed, but before she could scream for help, the northman placed a finger to his lips. "If you want to be freed of this place, keep yourself quiet." He told her. He didn't expect she was totally convinced, but it kept her silent for the moment, which was truly all he needed. Markus moved the knife from Khazeem's throat to let him speak, but he put a hand around his throat and the knife next to his fingers.

"There is a magic lamp with a Djinn inside this palace. Where is it?" Markus asked, not in the mood to mince words.

"Ha! A lone man here, chasing after rumors and legends?" Khazeem chuckled as if he were control of the entire situation. "There is no Djinn here, fool. You've resigned your fate to a lie. You'll not leave this place alive, even if you kidnap me or h-" He suddenly gave a hoarse cry of pain, luckily blocked by the gardens around him so the guards at the wall were as of yet, unalerted. Khazeem began to whimper, and the princess saw a stubby appendage fall to the ground amidst a stream of blood. It was his finger.

"Do say something I wish to hear, next time." Markus remarked simply. "Where is the magic lamp?"

The princess covered her ears and closed her eyes, counting to fifty and shaking with fear. She yelped when something poked her shoulder, the woman slowly opening her eyes to see the handsome foreigner standing before her. Behind him, Khazeem bled into the dirt, his body like an ever reddening sack of flesh.

"You want to be rid of this Mavikim, yes? ... Yes?"

She gulped and nodded, dark hair bouncing from the movement. She looked mortified, but simply for her life and not Khazeem's it seemed. Markus stepped back a bit, but offered her his hand. She hesitated like a nervous fawn, but reached out to accept it after a moment's hesitation. To her surprise, he did not begin to cut off her fingers. He merely helped her up and let her go, sheathing his knife back into its small, hidden scabbard.

"You will take me to this Mavikim's chambers. I am your guard and you are to go and see him. Do this, and I'll kill him and set you free."

Gold & Glory: AU thread

In a way, the Arabyan estate wasn't too unlike the larger aristocratic domains of the north. The walls surrounding the small palace were made of stone, likely sandstone, and the guardrooms at the base of the towers and framing the gates were small and square. Laughing and cursing could be heard within as the two passed onto the stone road that lightly curved upwards climbing a low, undoubtedly artificial hill. Along the parapets behind as well as the roofstop of the approaching manor, the patrols walked to and fro lazily, or were lost in thought on various musings of their lives. Obviously they had been in this job so long they weren't as alert as a new recruit would be, though Markus could make out all eyes inevitably fell on he and Emmaline, seeing as they brazenly walked under the failing light of the sky and her voluptuous charms were on display for all to take a gander at. At the corner of his eye, Markus could see a well tended garden with a spring pool that gently cascaded water from the mouths of two stone jungle cats. On the left was all of the pragmatic housing and equipment storages a baron would need for his servants and soldiers.

The two approached the great central stairway amid the marble pillars that held up a large foyer, leading into the solidly built palace halls. Two large, swarthy skinned guards approached. Their glaives were likely ceremonial in use, but Markus could tell they knew how to use them if it came to it. They stepped down two of the large steps in tandem, eyeing Markus and Emmaline. The woman looked a bit uneasy, and Markus whispered to her. "I doubt you'll have to touch him. In fact, I'll kill him if he does."

"This was your idea!" She whispered harshly, then she turned and fluttered her lashes at the guards.

"For the master of the household," Markus declared, his voice clear even though the cloth covered all but his dark eyes. He spanked Emmaline for good measure, which sent her in a small leap and a squeal. The guards chuckled at that, a bit of the tension dropping. They spoke to one another in their language, a dialect Markus had a hard time deciphering. Something about the master needing a new batch of women. They exchanged a coin, likely from a bet between the two of them.

The one who had won the bet beckoned for Emmaline to come forward. She did so obediently, and Markus slowly began to follow her, pressing his luck.

"You can go," the loser said grimly. Markus met his stare and did not flinch. The guards above were too high up to be able to see the exchange below, but Markus knew fighting now was still far too blunt of a solution.

"My own master in Copher paid many coins for her and for our travels. It would be a dishonor to not see her safely to the one who would acquire her." He explained, lifting his head with authority.

"Too bad. You can go back to Copher and tell him she was received. Do so now or we'll send back your head." The other warned, waiting for Markus to back down, which he did after a moment of hesitation. The Captain gave a low, prideful bow and turned, striding down the steps and towards the road that led to the gate. Ever were his eyes on the two guards, and as soon as he saw them both turn to stand between Emmaline so as to escort her, he quickly ducked and made his way left, towards the cover of the gardens. If there was a way in, he would find it there.

Gold & Glory: AU thread

Markus was always amused watching Emmaline work. Since he had known her, she had been mostly on his terms when it came to decision making and setting, so whenever he had a chance to see her wheel and deal he found it was interesting. Now that they were within the steet, the swordsman opened his magesight and felt the world a bit more keenly, able to decipher the magical indicators on the city map, a bit more satisfied now that he saw real proof that there might actually be such a being of legend within the city. The Captain had heard of great sorcerers of Araby and Sultans using Djinn for tasks, but he had never learned much on even what the things were save for vague rumors.

Still slightly apprehensive, he traced his finger from where he supposed their location was to the sizeable domain of what could only be Mavikim on the map, then deducing how far away it was from their ship. He still did not know what this creature was able to accomplish for them, but he decided to humor her on if it was worth it and thought outloud.

"So if we capture this Djinn, we still must wait three days before we can set sail. I won't go back on my word to the men. Which means we need to find a suitable safehouse for us, or we will need to make it to my ship without being seen by guards, or preferably anyone."

"There's also the matter of getting in." Emmaline added as they stood close, both still peering at the map whilst sharing the occasional glance. "His small palace won't be impregnable, but this is the City of Corsairs. If the average thief could bypass his security, he would have remained a rich man to speak of. Aaand since your men are on holiday, you can't exactly assault the place. Not that I would suggest the brute approach."

The two thought for a moment, Emmaline pursing her lips. Markus glanced at her, and then decided to do it again. A wicked gleam entered his eye, and she noticed it a second later. He gathered she usually liked that look, but when it was at her, it wasn't very reassuring.

"I think a more feminine approach would work wonders." He decided.

Gold & Glory: AU thread

"We still do have that shipment of iron and goods you got from Tobaro," Morgan commented, the quartermaster reminding them they still had a fair way of getting cash. Markus looked at Emmaline, who looked away guiltily so as her wave of blonde hair fell before her eyes to hide her.

"You know as well as I do that one flimsy promise of money leads to a mutiny the second it fails." Markus reminded him, turning back to the old seadog. "Besides, there's no telling what the Duke might think of us at this moment. We can transport the goods, but there is a chance they'll try to arrest us once we make our destination."

Morgan raised his hands and shrugged, sighing. "Well then, what do you suggest lad?"

Emmaline raised a hand, and the two regarded her. "Uhm...I have an idea?"

---

The City of Corsairs was a spectacular sight from the railing of the ship. The spires reached the sky, towering with majesty as if they were carved by the hands of giants. The sun gleamed golden in the expansive blue sky that reached as far as the eye could see, and even the colors, sounds, and smell of the place came to opulent life as they had drifted closer. No crewmember of the Hammer wasn't breathless from the spectacle, whether or not they had seen it before in a past life. Markus had only been to an Arabyan port once, and it was for just a day. The closest he had ever gone to a true desert was a foray into the badlands during his mercenary days.

It was a strange experience to the crew when they had stepped off and saw the city close up. The colors were there, but most were on cheap and gaudy goods men would lie to their teeth to you about. The spires were there, but that was only in a small area of the vast shantytown of a city teeming with the poor and destitute. The sun beat down mercilessly on any that were not in direct contact with a coastal breeze. Thankfully, the crewmen weren't picky, and they knew something about making a living in the slums. Each member of the crew save Halfdan and Morgan had readily embarked on a journey of debauchery, to squeeze Lashiek dry of whatever pleasures and money they could find.

Markus and Emmaline found themselves in a less than safe area, having passed alleyway through alleyway, descending down stairs into a slum of blackmarket trading and illicit activities that even the city proper would turn their nose at. Markus wore his normal attire, though he had taken a windswept cloak he could wrap about his face if any sand billowed from below. Now they just needed to find the right man with the correct information in this den of theives.

Gold & Glory: AU thread

Markus mouth was full of sausage and eggs, still slightly bleary eyed from sleep. Finally they had begun their journey to Ind, with only one pit stop along the way. Had it not been for the various business meetings they would had left earlier, and now he would be disappointed yet again once Morgan strode in. He didn't blame the man. The quartermaster did his duty as any good quartermaster would, but it wasn't the news Markus wanted to hear.

"They did have some land time in Sartosa," Markus corrected, but Emmaline shook her blonde head. "No, you had them stay put while conducting business."

Markus opened his mouth, and then closed it when he realized his woman and first mate were right. Dammit, now? Really? His first thought was to get up and go scare them a bit, but he cowed the urge. He knew they needed some time off. Blowing off steam was what any pirate needed, just as Markus had done killing those thugs that had attacked he and Emmaline. He refused to go off course again, but perhaps there could be a compromise. He did need some rum himself, anyway.

Moments later, Markus and Morgan pulled out the map of the Arabyan Gulf, tracing fingers across the paper to see where their course was to lead. The waters of Araby weren't treacherous (near the coast) save for pirates, and that wouldn't necessarily be a disadvantage to them in so many words.

"Copher?" Morgan mumbled. "Been there before. The City of Spices, they call it."

"Lashiek," Emmaline pipped in, drawing their gazes. When Markus gazed at her questioningly, she added. "City of Corsairs."

"Hmmm, very well then." Markus replied. "We'll take a 3 day trip to Lashiek. Let the lads do what they want, fuck who they want, give them their shares. But then they're going to haul ass across the great water to the new world or I'll keelhaul all of them."