Hundsgugel

Slave ship wrecked

Hello

Srysrysry for not writing, I am insanely overrun with work and university and stuff.
Feel free to kill me off when you hadn't done it already :)

Slave ship wrecked

Szandor felt a rough shove by willow as the others ran by him. He saw the young mute boy in the natives arms but was unsure what had happened. The pain and dehydration made his head swirl as he started to run again to keep up with the others.

"Where are we going?", he screamed.

Slave ship wrecked

After the elder had talked to the other villagers in a language Szandor didn't understand, the natives moved back from him and where busying themselfes with other tasks.

Szandor took the mute boy in front of him by the hand
@DriveEmOut "We should follow your friends", he said to him and hurried to catch up to the rest of the group.

He reached them as they ran besides a riverbank the young native pointed downwards and said something about a boat. Szandors heart skipped a beat. Was there really a boat somewhere? Was there the posibility to get of this island? Szandor tried to remember the sea chart the ship's navigator always had laid out on deck while calculating their route. He was almost certain that there where at least 4 or 5 islands within a days sail but the intense pain of his right arm made it extremely hard to concentrate.

Introducttaping

Hello everyone, time for some of this introducing that's going on around here :)

My name is Hundsgugel and I am living in Austria right now but on the move to Ireland.

Roleplaying was always a hobby of mine in one variation or another. Be it pen&paper, larp, theatre, reenacting, gaming or plain text writing.

This is my first time in an english forum though, so please don't judge me based on my spelling^^

@NekoMizu Heya. I would like to thank you in advance for the post about the tagging and mentioning ;)

Slave ship wrecked

Szandor was startled by the clear voice of the girl and looked her in the eyes.

@Kelewen "They certainly tried to kill me. Only the gods know why they haven't succeed. But you don't need to thank me sweetheart, I did it for myself. Wasn't a proper slaver to begin with. Just wanted to sail home."

He forced his face to a smile but in his current condition it rather looked like him baring his teeth. Then the young boy in the group ran forward and hugged Szandor hightening the pain for a second. Szandor looked at what the boy was scribbeling on the ground.

@DriveEmOut "I think my arm is broken boy. But nothing a proper splint and some rum will heal with time I reckon. And I still got a fine working pair of legs. Won't do us much good for getting of this bloody island though. Would need some finns for that."

After this quick discourse his throat felt like sandpaper. He looked to the natives still surounding him. "Can I bother any of you fine gentleman for a cup of water?", he asked.

Slave ship wrecked

Szandor forced himself back on his feet and stumbled on towards the noise and the light. And then he stood in the middle of a small village surrounded by natives with spears. He suddenly remembered that he still wore his torn sailor's uniform. "No! Please!", he screamed hoarsley raising his left arm while his right dangled lifeless by his side. Panic striken Szandor looked around and recognised a small group of slaves accompanied by one of the cabin boys from the ship standing in the entrance of a big hut. "You please, I can help you.", he said more silent.
Szandor bowed his head as the pain caught up with him and saw his reflection in a puddle. His blond hair was blood encrustet and his thin muscular body was tattered and torn showing hundreds of small wounds and scratches. His pale face was a crass contrast to his steel blue eyes. 'I must look like death to them', he thought to himself.

Slave ship wrecked

Hello

Sorry but I enjoyed reading the story so much I just 'jumped in' without asking. Hope that's alright^^

Slave ship wrecked

Szandor looked up towards the stormragged clouds. 'Well thats what you get for beeing a humanist on a bloody slaveboat!', he thought to himself.
Short after this heathen storm had hit the Eel and ripped her sails to shreds, he decided sailor or not he wouldn't let those poor slave bastards drown in the ship's hull. Szandor took one of the boarding axes and snuck down the sterns' storage area to break the chain locks and relase those poor souls.
Sadly good intentions didn't save Szandor as Ulric caught him and brought him before the captain. The bastards even took the time to let him walk the plank in this bloody hellstorm.
Szandor looked around. Well he was on dry land now, the gods know how. Only the unnatural bend of his right arm worried him. 'Probably broken', he thought but his senses where numbed by the hypothermia. He pulled himself on shaky legs.
"Better find some high ground", he whispered to himself, "if those bastards find me again I will have to perform a hangman's jig between the leaves of the next tree I reckon."
Slowly he climbed a small cliff and moved into the jungle. Almost mad with thirst Szandor aimlessly stumbled onward. But then he heard voices in a strange dialect. Those wheren't kingsmen, those where slaves or natives! Allies! Probably only a couple of feet away!
"Wait!", Szandor cried out and fell onto his knees.