#gulmont

[pistols-and-pastries]

Set sails!

My muse is a pirate on the run from the law that just so happened to commandeer the boat your muse was napping in. From @luxelen and @gulmontjonty

While Mia was often times shy and quiet, she was incredibly observant.  For instance, since the three charr finished building and launched this boat, she knew where Flintlock kept all of the sweets in the galley, she knew where Grifter kept all of the parchment for writing down drafts and designs and she knew the combination locks to all of the doors throughout the ship.  And those doors that didn’t have combination locks and only had regular locks, she knew how to pick them.  A handy skill that her mother, Shani, taught her.

And being as small as she was, she could move around as quietly as a mouse (the actual kind of mouse, not the kind of mouse that was used as a slur against humans). With that, it meant that Mia could climb out of bed, get into her overcoat and make a midnight kitchen raid without Flintlock or Grifter ever knowing about it.

Besides, that’s where the ice cream chocolate creamcicles were stashed.

Mia’s stealthy ability also meant that the two people who had suddenly came aboard the ship and started arguing, albeit in a quiet manner, didn’t notice the small charr elementalist.

So there it was that Mia was first shaking Grifter awake and then Flintlock.  The two older charr groggily woke up.  Grifter looked out the window in the crew quarters to see the full moon shining brightly in the sky.  Flintlock rubbed her eyes and looked around for a moment as she tried to figure out just where she was and what time it was.

“It’s about midnight, I figure,” Grifter said as he looked back from the porthole.

“What’s goin’...” Flintlock began and then caught sight of Mia nibbling away on her freshly absconded ice cream treat.  “Mia, how did you get into the freezer, I had that locked.”

“I picked it,” She replied with a shrug and then added, “Luxelen an’ Monty are on the deck an’ I think they’re havin’ an argument.”

Both Flintlock and Grifter paused a moment.  They both attempted to figure out just how the two could have gotten on board the boat when they were anchored off the western coast of the lands that would be Elona.  They were sailing toward the Sandswept Isles, using an alternate route of travel that avoided all the dangers on land.  Orr was the only real exception, and that wasn’t nearly as difficult as it seemed as the Risen weren’t as organized now that Zhaitan was dead.

Flintlock and Grifter raced for the stairs that lead up to the main deck as Mia followed along behind them, still quietly nibbling on her ice cream treat.  Sure enough, there was Luxelen and Gulmonty arguing about something in as quiet a matter as one could have an argument.

“...most daft idea I’ve heard,” Monty said in a whispered shout as he was obviously trying to position himself in the argument.  “Joko’s phylactory is no where ta be found in Elona proper.  He’s gonna have it somewhere familiar, an’ b’sides we’ve no idea if he even has one!  An’ it’s a fool’s errand to try it anyway seein’ how all the Mordent Crescent is wise to what we did before!”

“Mordent Crescent be damned, they’re the fools.  Besides, Joko will want the object nearby in order to keep it safe,” Luxelen quickly countered.  “If we steal it, then we have a huge bargaining chip to use over him.”

“That’ll just piss ‘im off more!” Monty again argued. “We don’t just steal it, we destroy it right there.  IF it even exists...” Monty stopped as both he and Luxelen looked toward the three charr.

Before Flintlock or Grifter could say a word, it was Mia who piped up.  “Whatcha guys doin’?”

[korlynn]

For @gulmontjonty, thanks for being a follower!

[guildwarsstartrekskyrim]

Beer For My Horses

((special thanks to @gulmontjonty))

Previously

That justice is the one thing you should always find You got to saddle up your boys, you got to draw a hard line When the gun smoke settles we'll sing a victory tune And we'll all meet back at the local saloon We'll raise up our glasses against evil forces singing Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses

The gates of Divinity’s Reach. A bustling area of shops, merchants, travellers and the residents of the great city. While horses, oxen, dolyaks and the like weren’t an uncommon sight, there were those who stopped as the three siblings and Gulmont rode through. The horses moved easily at a swift gallop as they were spurred on to their mark. Gulmont matched the speed easily, having been used to travelling on foot.

They rode quickly past Durmand Hall and Rurikton Waypoint with their goal being the plaza of Lyssa and the gateway that lead to Lake Doric. They knew it would be all out war on the other side, while the city itself still felt protected and safe. All could see the massive mesmer shield that surrounded the eastern side of the city.

War was not something unfamiliar to the three siblings.  They were part of the initial forces that advanced in Orr, back when the Burn Warband was still at full strength. Back when the Black Riders meant something. While the threat of a dragon did fill one with purpose, this battle against the White Mantle held something greater. Sywyn and Wren had both been members of the Seraph before joining the Vigil. Shani had friends who lived in the city and often travelled to Lake Doric as a short cut to head out to the Seraph Landing in the Hirathi Hinterlands.

Finally after such a long ride, they stood before the gates in the Plaza of Lyssa. Gulmont turned to the three and spoke the loudest and the most he had ever spoken in the trip.

“Once you clear the gates, break south,” he told them. “There’s a long ride to the main camp next to the East Divinity Dam.” He seemed to smirk a bit. “Fittingly called Camp Dam.”

“You’re not coming with us, Monty?” Sywyn called out.

“I know a faster way,” he said as he shook his head. “But I’ll see you again before this is through. I have some business to take care of.” Quietly and quickly, Gulmont stepped into the shadows and disappeared.

Shani turned her attention to the gates and held fast the reins of her horse. “Time fer a reckonin’. We walk the road ta perdition.”

“Let justice be done,” Wren added.

“And by the Six, we will have peace once this is through,” Sywyn said. The three siblings spurred their horses forward and they seemed to leap into action as they barrelled for the gates leading to Lake Doric.

[guildwarsstartrekskyrim]

I Am A Town

((special thanks to @gulmontjonty))

Previously

I'm a town in Carolina, I'm a detour on a ride For a phone call and a soda, I'm a blur from the driver's side I'm the last gas for an hour if you're going twenty-five I am Texaco and tobacco, I am dust you leave behind

Gulmont followed behind the three horses making sure to make himself as inconspicuous to those left in the now ruined town and fort that was Fort Salma. At the edge of the town the riders stopped, dismounted and approached a small house. While it had seen better days, it was not ruined like those closer to the destruction caused by the vines. It was a two storey house with quaint shutters on the windows, a small patch which presumably was for a garden at one time and a wide front porch. Next to the house was a wide field and a fence line that had seen more activity in the past than it was now.

Shani reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. Holding it in her hand, she looked to Sywyn and Wren before stepping toward the front door. It had been almost four years since they had left. Fortunately, when the vines struck the fort, their mother was in Claypool with Flintlock, Grifter Burnside and Mia Corpseburn. The three siblings had already settled in Dry Top. The house looked as though nothing had been disturbed since that day Unia Wennemein went shopping with her charr companions.

Gulmont watched as Shani pushed the key into the lock and opened it with some ease.  Yes, there was some rust, but it still fit. The door opened with a loud creak and the four walked in slowly.  Monty took a look around, seeing furniture left in place, shelves with books and knick knacks, pictures still hung on the wall.  Streams of sunlight came through the windows, shining through swirls of dust that began to settle. There was a musty smell, but not one of mold. That old smell of a place that had been left to it’s own devices.

“If ya clean this place up,” Shani said looking around. “Be right livable.”

“Should tell mother about this,” Sywyn said. “She’d have more room, be a place for Grifter an’ Flintlock an’ Mia ta live.”

“If the Seraph allow it,” Wren said as she opened one of the side boards. Monty watched as she took something out, her face beaming with a smile.  “Hey, look what I found.”  The four of them gathered and watched as Wren opened up a case and took out an old violin. It seemed in good condition still, even the bow was untouched. “This was daddy’s.” Wren looked to Sywyn and handed it to him. “Think it’ll still play?”

Sywyn took the violin and inspected it closely, then held it in the crook of his neck as his fingers gently plucked the strings. He drew the bow across the strings and produced a not too terrible sound. He gave a few draws and tuned it up, making adjustments where needed. Finally he held it up and looked to the others. “Give it a bit o’ work an’ be good as new.”

“We should get that ta mama,” Shani said. “I think it’d be a nice gift fer her ta hang onta.”

“For now, we should get some food together and prepare a couple of rooms for the night,” Sywyn said as he put the violin carefully on a side counter. “You’re welcome to stay, Monty. You can have one of the rooms.  I know ya prefer a tree, but it’s the least we can do while you’re with us.”

“We’ll see,” Gulmont replied in a non committal tone. For now, he helped the siblings clean up their house and prepare for supper. They were maybe half a day’s ride away from Divinity’s Reach. Gulmont wanted to suggest they could take the asuran gates, but he remembered that Shani wasn’t all too trusting of that network. Especially after the events that included the destruction of Fort Salma and the attack on Prospect Valley. The vines were using the ley line network, after all.

With the four of them working together, it didn’t take long and the house was as clean as it needed to be for their purposes.  Food cooked, a fire roaring away in the fireplace, the horses grazing in the paddock. And as the sun began to sink into the horizon, Sywyn had finished working on the violin.

At least for now, there would be music in Fort Salma once again.

I am peaches in September, and corn from a roadside stall I'm the language of the natives, I'm a cadence and a drawl I'm the pines behind the graveyard, and the cool beneath their shade, where the boys have left their beer cans I am weeds between the graves.

[guildwarsstartrekskyrim]

Guitar Town

Special thanks to @gulmontjonty

Previously and set before this, this and this.

There's a speed trap up ahead in Selma Town But no local yokel gonna shut me down 'Cause me and my boys got this rig unwound And we've come a thousand miles from a Guitar Town

The small camp was cleared easily. Those bandits that didn’t fight just ran. Most likely they were recent recruits. Shani noted a long time ago that the bandits, and conversely the White Mantle, gave promises of prosperity and even some power to the down trodden. It’s easy to be swayed by words coated in honey when you feel you’ve hit rock bottom. Those ones Shani had some sympathy for, because it’s difficult to find some light at the end of the tunnel, especially when you feel the world is against you to begin with.

Those people she had no problem letting them run. But the so called ‘true believers’, the ones who took in the words of the Unseen Ones, the Justicars, the Confessors. Those ones were the dangerous ones. They were zealots who held such a views that would define cognitive dissonance to a T. They only cared about power and they didn’t really care who they stepped on to get it. If the White Mantle was to continue, then it would be the end of humanity.

As it was, it was very difficult to get rid of such a parasitic disease in society. Even jailing or executing every last member of the White Mantle wouldn’t be enough because someone, somewhere, would hold some sort of sympathy with them.

But today was not the day for thoughts of political resistance or the crushing realities of such an extremist group. Today, Shani, Sywyn and Wren had other things in mind.

As Wren tended the horses, Shani cleared up the camp and searched for anything of value. Sywyn went out to hunt up some food for the evening. Better to get something fresh than subsist on baked beans, flat bread and salted bacon.

As Sywyn returned from his hunt with two pheasants and some fish, Shani finally gave a look around the camp. She sighed as she looked up into a tree and saw a familiar figure lounging lazily like he was born to do such a thing.

“An’ jist how long have y’all been followin’ us, Monty,” Shani said as she stood under the tree where Gulmont sat.

He pushed up his hat and looked directly to to Shani. “Long enough,” he said in his usual quiet manner. With ease he jumped down out of the tree and looked to Sywyn as he carried the fresh kills to a make shift cooking station. His stomach grumbled loudly.

“Care ta join us in a bit o’ supper?” Wren asked with a small smirk.

“Like ya haveta ask thet,” Shani said as she directed Gulmont to the recently set up camp fire.  “I trust y’all was there when thet bomb went off,” Shani said as she moved to the fire and stoked the flames. “Anybody get caught fer it?”

“Not yet,” he replied as he took a seat and watched Sywyn clean and dress the pheasants and fish. “But soon. You can count on it.”

“There will be a reckonin’,” Shani said as she took out her tobacco pouch. “The White Mantle is a festerin’ disease thet has gripped it’s claws into this land more ‘n it should have.”

Gulmont sat down at the fire and smirked as he huffed. “You’d make a good preacher if you didn’t like speechifying so much,” he said, using a turn of phrase Shani often would use.

“There’s a diff’rence b’tween wantin’ ta an’ actually doin’ it,” Shani said as she rolled up a cigarillo for herself. She took note of where Wren sat down at the fire, opposite of Gulmont. There was something there, something that her guardian sister felt around him, but she never pressured for an answer. Thus far, she had no reason to be suspicious of him.

Eventually, food began to cook. Pheasant breast, fish steaks, corn bread, beans and even coffee and tea. The four ate in silence as the sun slowly sank beyond the horizon.

“You gonna ride with us at first light, Monty?” Shani asked as she reached back to her supplies and took out a guitar. “We’re headin’ back up ta Lake Doric through Queensdale.”

“You three’ve left a trail behind you,” Gulmont pointed out. “There’s still trails to run through Queensdale.”

“We’ll avoid the bandit caves,” Sywyn said with a nod. “The only reason ta go through there is ta kill bandits. Or free captives they’ve taken.”

“Which also means killin’ bandits,” Wren said with a shrug. “But if we can avoid ‘em an’ head up through the Reach... b’cause I doubt Lord Beetlestone’ll let us cut through ta Lake Doric by way o’ his mansion.”

“With any luck,” Shani said as she tuned up her guitar. “Thet peckerwood’ll be dead.” There wasn’t much else that needed to be said about such things. Everyone held the same feelings about the corrupted Minister. For now, Shani finished tuning her guitar and began to play.

And hey pretty baby won't you hold me tight I'm loadin' up and rollin' out of here tonight One of these days I'm gonna settle down And take you back with me to the Guitar Town