PIRATE

It had been a long, most boring and frustrating day. Mostly just boring. In lieu of patrols the golden had instead ‘volunteered’ to get some work done about the valley with one of the prisoners. It had been a bit of confusion given he rarely volunteered for anything, but nonetheless, he had found himself walking to the prison. Opening its doors he pulled from its shadowy depths, a slender and head heavy creature, Diesel. Even the gold raised a brow, he hadn’t exactly anticipated the creature being that pathetic looking. It was too late now though. Moving the dragging creature through the Basin they come to the Arch. They then moved a little to the side, and that’s where the work began. Well of course not for the golden! The bowed frame of Diesel labored under the pale sun, moving rocks and rolling boulders down the mountainside. For hours he worked, while the golden only occasionally helped, to take rocks from the path and line the sides, or stack them below.

Birds began to sing the end of the day, and the sun sink lower. The weak form had at least made progress, to the golden’s satisfaction. A small path, lined with stones rose a little more than fifty yards up the mountainside. It was slightly hidden, but still marked well to those who looked for it. And down at the bottom a pile of stones, and several large boulders lay ready for the next step. And the best part was, the golden never broke a sweat. The poor prisoners though hung his head low. His knees were roughed up and coat dirty, but he was at least still standing. Coming to the opening of the Arch the golden watched and waited. The sun was sinking down, and Haldir, who had been hanging about most of the day took his cue and left. He would act as a guise, and inhabit the golden’s cave alone tonight. For the Laurelin was not headed back there. Letting the weary man rest and graze the golden waited until dark.

Now he was more excited. As the moonless night progressed the golden’s smile rose. This wasn’t by any accident that it was a new moon, and he stood here with a prisoner. He looks around, checking best he could for wandering eyes. Then he gives a soft laugh and pulls from his satchel a black clock. Taking it, and threatening death for any funny business, he throws it over Diesel and quickly grabs the rope about his neck. He then dragged the slow creature to the Arch and out.

It was dangerous. But not for the reason you might think. He wasn’t worried about being caught, he was the golden after all, and each moment was carefully planned. The only trouble he had was that his precious cloak was on the back of some dirty grimy, sweat stallion. It could run off, but he doubted the creature would get far. After a full day’s work like that, and some fresh fallen snow, it would be easy to track the tired beast. This though was not meant to be a game of cat and mouse. Coming out of the Arch he moves over and down the slope towards the first row of trees on the Steppe.

They almost make it, but then, it never could be that smooth. A few yards from the tree a rush of air and cluttering crash of body and fabric falls beside him. Looking over in the near darkness of night the golden can barely make out a large indention of a fallen creature. Great, he collapsed. Mostly likely just worn. Rolling his eyes the golden puts his hoof on the rope and reaches into his satchel. Out he brings a blade. It sparks even in this low light, singing with the powers in possesses and is ready to let loose. “The whatching shift goes over on.” The reflection of the blade shimmers and images appear. Most were blank and dark, but he finally found something. A bit of blue.

With a smile the golden places the blade back and calls out in a whisper. “Pirates will brave thunderheads to see their treasure safe.” It was coded and smooth. Spoken with satisfaction, but also an edge. Now there was nothing left to do but wait, and hope somewhere in the dark a storm of thunder might meet him.


"TALK TALK TALK"
OOC::Permission given to PP Diesel