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Thread: Hello, um... lets start role playing??! :P

  1. #31
    Patroller Mulchior Lancer's Avatar
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    *Dertwill winced; his question did him no favors in the eyes of the Captain. He took a mental note of this and stored it for later. Next time he was given an order, he’d best complete it on his own.

    “R-right Cap’n,” nodded Dertwill.

    *The diminutive stoat moved away from the others and stood by the stairs, deep in thought. He didn’t know who Flogbane was, but he’d best wait for the surgeon and treat him for his condition. Then he’d have to step lively and learn the rules and ways on the ship, especially if he wanted to make it to the next port alive.
    “Aha! Today I shall become an author! And I will auth and auth and auth and make a squillion dollars, whoopee!”
    -Brian Jacques

    My Story Blog

  2. #32
    Dibbun Zemmerug_Zitspike's Avatar
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    As Zemmerug went up to his cabin, a skinny old stoat came down. He looked at Dertwill. Dertwill looked sick. The skinny old, gray stoat went and grabbed Dertwill's ear. He began dragging the poor (ferret, wasn't it?) to the infirmary. Flogbane was a no nonsense type, and he didn't take to beasts just waiting around for him to go to them. He smacked Dertwill across the muzzle.

    "Next time, yew kin come t'meh. Ah'm a busy beast an' ah don' got no time fer walkin' all d'way t'yew idjits."

    He said. By the look of things in the infirmary, Flogbane wasn't very busy at all. There were a few hammocks with nobeast in them, some old bloody saws and swords, some medicines with cobwebs on them, and a few gags. Flogbane's rusty saws for removing body parts were the only thing that looked like they'd been touched in the past one hundred years. Flogbane pointed to a hammock, making it clear that Dertwill was to get in. The hammock had blood stains on it.

    "Now, wot brings yew t'mah infermary. Per'aps yew got a 'eadache? Ah kin allus remove yer 'ead if'n yew gots a 'eadache. If yew stubbed yer toe, ah'll remove dat fer yew as well."

    He said. Flogbane obviously wasn't a real doctor, and perhaps was just some random beast who couldn't fight.

  3. #33
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    *Dertwill yelped in pain as the older, wiry stoat yanked his ear and dragged him up the stairs. Dertwill’s eyes watered from pain, but he held them back out of fear of being perceived as weak to the others. The poor lad wasn’t allowed a moment of rest or peace, constantly tripping over his footpaws while trying to maintain pace with his superior. Any attempt to slow down and get his footing was rebuffed with more tugging.

    Dertwill cried out in surprise as the surgeon smacked him upside the muzzle. Despite his pain, Dertwill stood at attention and clenched his paws, working through the pain.

    “Aye sir, sorrys about makin’ ya come ‘n finds me,” apologized Dertwill in the gruffest voice he could muster.

    *Dertwill eyed the various surgical tools that banged against the wooden walls with the rocking of the ship. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at the sight of the bloody tools and saws with missing and jagged teeth. The bottles all had strange liquids in them, each labeled with words Dertwill didn’t understand. The lad had the barest of learning, and struggled with literacy.

    Flogbane pointed at one of the hammocks, a disgusting one with blood long dried in the fabric. Obediently, Dertwill fell into the bed, practically flailing into it. He didn’t feel particularly comfortable resting in it, but the last thing he wanted to do was disobey an order. At the mere mention of having his head removed for his headache, Dertwill vigorously shook his head.

    “N-no headache fer me,” answered Dertwill, giving a nervous chuckle as he rubbed his sore ear. “W-water, ah’s need water, ah’ve gots a terrible thirst. If ah could jus’ quench it, it’ll do me sum good.”

    *The stoat hoped the doctor wouldn’t prescribe the removing of his tongue as the solution to his problem. Little did Dertwill know water was a scarce commodity on a sailing boat. He’d most likely get something much stronger instead.
    “Aha! Today I shall become an author! And I will auth and auth and auth and make a squillion dollars, whoopee!”
    -Brian Jacques

    My Story Blog

  4. #34
    Dibbun Zemmerug_Zitspike's Avatar
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    Flogbane's mouth hung open. Water? This beast wanted water? The stoat began laughing wildly. Mixed with the uncontrollable fits of laughter were muffled words.

    "YEW COME T'DA SURGEONS OFFICE FER WA'ER?? DAS NO' A SICKNESS! MAY'APS AH'M LIABLE T'CUT YER TONGUE OFF ANYWAYS! DAT'LL FIX THE PROBLEM!!"

    Said the wild stoat. This was hardly audible, due to the laughing. Flogbane selected a short, sharp, jagged cutting knife. A wicked smile crossed the stoat's face.

    "Giddoutta mah office unless yew wants t'lose yer tongue!"

    Said the stoat, his laughter quickly dying down. Flogbane glared daggers into Dertwill.

  5. #35
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    Dertwill crawled back further for protection in the hammock as the other stoat ranted and raved about, brandishing his knife. The short stoat wondered if everyone on the ship would wave a knife at his face when he talked to them. This Flogbane seemed as much a doctor as he was a shipbeast, in title only. Dertwill cleared his throat, ready to give it one more try; otherwise he’d have to act fast or lose his tongue.

    “Ain’cha ever ‘erd a dehydrashin?” snapped Dertwill, making his voice firmer than usual. “I ain’t jus’ lookin’ ta cool me tongue. Ah’m dyin’ of thirst, an’ if ayes don’t gets it, aye’s ‘ll perish.”

    As Dertwill spoke, he casually slid his left paw back. He didn’t like how the older stoat was eyeing him, but he’d be ready if he tried something funny.
    “Aha! Today I shall become an author! And I will auth and auth and auth and make a squillion dollars, whoopee!”
    -Brian Jacques

    My Story Blog

  6. #36
    Dibbun Zemmerug_Zitspike's Avatar
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    Flogbane started laughing maniacally again. He shook his head once he stopped and rolled his eyes.

    "If'n yew's jus' thirsty, why'd yew come t'da surgeon's office? Yew idjit!"

    Yelled the stoat. Flogbane might have some fun with this smaller stoat.

  7. #37
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    Dertwill fumed at the sight of the stoat laughing once again at his request. When he snuck aboard the ship, Dertwill expected he’d have to get used to the ribbings of the other shipmates and prove himself, but this was just aggravating.

    “Cap’n’s orders,” snapped Dertwill. “Even he said ah need’s it. Yew wouldn’t wanna go against an h’order of th’ Cap’n.”

    Dertwill straightened himself and shot a glare back at the stoat, as hard as it was to concentrate. If this stoat wasn’t going to help him, he’d have to help himself.
    “Aha! Today I shall become an author! And I will auth and auth and auth and make a squillion dollars, whoopee!”
    -Brian Jacques

    My Story Blog

  8. #38
    Dibbun Zemmerug_Zitspike's Avatar
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    Flogbane rolled his eyes and sighed. He looked at Dertwill. He smiled. Flogbane was having lots of fun, and he would have more still. Flogbane made smiled sweetly and tilted his head.

    "Weel den, where d'yew expect t'find any wa'er?"

  9. #39
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    Dertwill narrowed his eyes at Flogbane. He knew the doctor was toying with him, and he had just about enough of the seabeast acting condescending towards him. Dertwill decided he’d probably have a better chance finding water on this boat than waiting for the good doctor. The stoat hopped off of the unsanitary hammock, almost tripping in the process, but managing to recover without making a complete fool of himself.

    “We’re floatin’ in it,” growled Dertwill, resisting the urge to throw in some choice insults at the stoat. “Ah would thinks a doctor ottah ‘ave some, but ah sees it’s too ‘ard fer ya ta find if yer askin’ me.”

    With a harrumph, the stoat headed towards the door, stomping his footpaws as he went.
    “Aha! Today I shall become an author! And I will auth and auth and auth and make a squillion dollars, whoopee!”
    -Brian Jacques

    My Story Blog

  10. #40
    Dibbun Zemmerug_Zitspike's Avatar
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    Flogbane smiled as the stoat left. Did that stoat really expect Flogbane to help him?! Flogbane helped nobody. The wiry stoat loped off to find some other unfortunate beast to toy with, and left his office.


    As Dertwill left the sickbay, a greasy and fat ferret stumbled out of a room, with some smaller searats following him. The fat ferret tumbled through the cabin. He landed on his large stomach and looked up at Dertwill. He grinned.

    "Ah yiss! Jus' t'beast ah'm lookin' fer! Aye, ye'll do jus' fine."

    Said the ferret, getting up. The searats nodded and went to Dertwill, leading him into the room which ended up being the kitchen.

  11. #41
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    Dertwill stood outside of the sickbay, leaning against the wall and searching around. Where could he go to cure his condition? As if someone had heard his mental cry, a portly ferret fell to the ground in front of him, startling him momentarily. The ferret had a few searats with him, and apparently the group had been looking for him. The searats and ferret called him forward, and Dertwill nodded dumbly, unsure if this was another trap for him to endure.

    Much to Dertwill’s surprise, the scruffy group actually led him to the kitchen. The short stoat’s eyes widened in joy at the barrel of water, just sitting there waiting to be sampled. With an unsteady paw, Dertwill took a cup and dipped it in the water, and then downed it in one gulp. One cup quickly became two, then three as the stoat finally recovered from his thirst and renewed his strength. Dertwill sighed as he set the cup down, full and ready to continue.
    “Aha! Today I shall become an author! And I will auth and auth and auth and make a squillion dollars, whoopee!”
    -Brian Jacques

    My Story Blog

  12. #42
    Dibbun Zemmerug_Zitspike's Avatar
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    The ferret watched as Dertwill drank his water. He shook his head.

    "Dat's no' why ah brought ya 'ere! Now, if'n yew's done causin' a drought, yew kin start cookin'! We been in needs of a new kitchin helper since ole Jeggan died!"

    Said the ferret, pointing at a skeleton with it's head in a pot.

    "Ole fool din't know 'ow t'check the tempachur on dat pot, so we stuck 'is 'ead innit."

    Said the ferret, laughing.

  13. #43
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    ((Next on Top Vermin Chef...))

    Dertwill eyed the skeleton of the deceased Jeggan standing over the cooking pot. The stoat joined in with nervous laughter at the joke.

    “Hehe, wot a nitwit,” chimed in Dertwill, casually leaving out that he didn’t quite know how to check the temperature of pots well, either. He never did much of the cooking back at home, but now he dearly wished he had paid better attention.

    The stoat strolled up to a pile of onions waiting to be chopped at a counter with a dulled, rusty knife waiting at the cutting board.

    “Humph, ‘ow ‘ard ken cookin’ be?” asked Dertwill, raising the knife and crashing it down on the yellow onion. The knife bounced off the edge of the vegetable, sending the onion flying off of the board and into the skeleton, crumbling it to the ground.

    Maybe it was a bit tougher than he thought.
    “Aha! Today I shall become an author! And I will auth and auth and auth and make a squillion dollars, whoopee!”
    -Brian Jacques

    My Story Blog

  14. #44
    Dibbun Zemmerug_Zitspike's Avatar
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    The cook eyed Dertwill. He wasn't doing well. The fat ferret whispered something to a sinewy searat and then walked off. The rat nodded and crept up to Dertwill.

    "Yew know dat if'n yew don' do wot yer s'posed ta do, yer gon end oop loik 'im."

    Said the rat slyly, his voice a menacing croak. He pointed to the skeleton, whom nobeast had removed.

  15. #45
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    ((Just to double check, the fat ferret is the ship cook, correct?))
    Dertwill chuckled again as the rat gave him the stink eye. Never one to let the opinions of a beast get to him, the young stoat retrieved the onion from the grimy floor and wiped it off on his shirt. If Dertwill knew anything at the moment, it was improvise, improvise, and improvise.

    “Harhar, ya don’t have ta be worryin’ about liddle ol’ me endin’ up like my mate over there,” explained Dertwill, adopting the toughest corsair accent that he could as he thumbed in the direction of the crumpled skeleton. “Ah ken cook wit th’ best o’ ‘em. Ain’t that rite, mate?” Dertwill eyed the skeleton and made his voice deeper, imitating what he thought Jeggan must’ve sounded like. “Rite mate!”

    Grabbing the knife again, Dertwill swung it down, chopping the onion in two this time, before turning to the rat overseer.

    “Ah’ll make a meal fit fer th’ king o’ th’ seas ‘imself!”
    “Aha! Today I shall become an author! And I will auth and auth and auth and make a squillion dollars, whoopee!”
    -Brian Jacques

    My Story Blog

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