Post by High Tide on Oct 31, 2016 20:14:23 GMT -5
October 31st, or Halloween as they called it. The one day he wouldn't catch nearly as much flak for being a pirate. Everyone just thought it was a costume, and they went on their way, without a comment, a second look, without criticism. Normally he would be out and about, taking advantage of this most opportune night to walk in peace and get things he might not normally be able to done.
Tonight was not a normal Halloween however.
Nobody spoke about it because it was secret, and speaking about secrets defeated their entire point, but there was a lot more to being a great pirate than just putting on a hat and drinking a shit ton of rum. Anybody could be a pirate, hell how many people dressed up as one (and for the adults, drank) on Halloween? Not anybody could be in the elite rank of pirates, and that was exactly where High Tide was hovering outside. Stuck on the outer fringes, known but not revered.
The sacred meadow had been cleansed by a carefully controlled fire over a couple weeks. He hadn't been able to do it all at once for fear of alerting local law enforcement who were recently the bane of his existence. The meadow was small only a six foot by six foot clearing completely surrounded by thick thorn brushes and overgrown plants. He could not afford to be interrupted and so he had created this place far away from any of the paths that he knew ran in his little forest. Even the barely used, or untouched for decades were too much of a risk for this special night and so he had bushwhacked as gently as he could to find this spot.
In the middle lay a small boulder with a hollowed out top, like a bowl. It was cold to the touch and slightly damp as it had rained the night before and of and off during the day. High Tide kneeled before it, one hand tracing the edge of the rock's impression lightly. The other hand held a tied bag clutched tight. Whatever was in the bag wriggled but he would not let it escape. Not yet anyways.
This was a sacred ritual and it had to be done correctly, or else it would be as useless as dried glue. He looked around in the near pitch black darkness the only light coming from a small lantern he had placed off to the side of the rock. He listened for any sounds of intruders, as he would be vulnerable when he started. After determining that there was no one in the immediate area, with his free hand he downed his entire flask of rum. It had begun.
More quickly, but still just as lightly Tide took the now free of flask hand and ran it around the bowl shaped boulder's rim. With his other hand he released the bag into the the center of the hollowed out rock. A frog jumped free, and with this act complete, High Tide looked up into the sky and shut his eyes. Had his eyes been open he would of seen a bolt of lightning through the few places where the leafy canopy was penetrated by the sky.
The frog croaked once and then there was nothing but the sound of rushing air. Then without warning he felt two fangs sink into his chest above his heart. He tried hard not to, but let out a little cry of pain though the rum had dulled a fair amount of it. He doubled over clutching at the small wound with immense pain and his head was now directly over the rock. He felt something flick at his ear, wet and hot.
“You are not ready for asssscenssssion. You mussssst prove yourssssself. Climb and all sssssshall be revealed. Your godsssssss have sssspoken,” and with that the hot breath was no longer in his ear. He looked up and the frog was gone and there was no sign of what had spoken to him, which he suspected had no doubt been a snake. It was always snakes with his gods, they seemed to be a fitting vessel to communicate. All that remained was the two pronged wound on his chest, that though fresh had the appearance of having closed over. He just hoped the gods hadn't sent him one of the venomous variety.
He reached into his pocket now and downed the emergency rum flask he kept there. Well, he had all the advice he needed. Climb the avatar of his gods had said, and all will be revealed. Well that was exactly what he was going to have to do and he'd be damned (quite literally) if Andy D, Lunacy, or Crazy Boy stood in his way.
Not this time.
Tonight was not a normal Halloween however.
Nobody spoke about it because it was secret, and speaking about secrets defeated their entire point, but there was a lot more to being a great pirate than just putting on a hat and drinking a shit ton of rum. Anybody could be a pirate, hell how many people dressed up as one (and for the adults, drank) on Halloween? Not anybody could be in the elite rank of pirates, and that was exactly where High Tide was hovering outside. Stuck on the outer fringes, known but not revered.
The sacred meadow had been cleansed by a carefully controlled fire over a couple weeks. He hadn't been able to do it all at once for fear of alerting local law enforcement who were recently the bane of his existence. The meadow was small only a six foot by six foot clearing completely surrounded by thick thorn brushes and overgrown plants. He could not afford to be interrupted and so he had created this place far away from any of the paths that he knew ran in his little forest. Even the barely used, or untouched for decades were too much of a risk for this special night and so he had bushwhacked as gently as he could to find this spot.
In the middle lay a small boulder with a hollowed out top, like a bowl. It was cold to the touch and slightly damp as it had rained the night before and of and off during the day. High Tide kneeled before it, one hand tracing the edge of the rock's impression lightly. The other hand held a tied bag clutched tight. Whatever was in the bag wriggled but he would not let it escape. Not yet anyways.
This was a sacred ritual and it had to be done correctly, or else it would be as useless as dried glue. He looked around in the near pitch black darkness the only light coming from a small lantern he had placed off to the side of the rock. He listened for any sounds of intruders, as he would be vulnerable when he started. After determining that there was no one in the immediate area, with his free hand he downed his entire flask of rum. It had begun.
More quickly, but still just as lightly Tide took the now free of flask hand and ran it around the bowl shaped boulder's rim. With his other hand he released the bag into the the center of the hollowed out rock. A frog jumped free, and with this act complete, High Tide looked up into the sky and shut his eyes. Had his eyes been open he would of seen a bolt of lightning through the few places where the leafy canopy was penetrated by the sky.
The frog croaked once and then there was nothing but the sound of rushing air. Then without warning he felt two fangs sink into his chest above his heart. He tried hard not to, but let out a little cry of pain though the rum had dulled a fair amount of it. He doubled over clutching at the small wound with immense pain and his head was now directly over the rock. He felt something flick at his ear, wet and hot.
“You are not ready for asssscenssssion. You mussssst prove yourssssself. Climb and all sssssshall be revealed. Your godsssssss have sssspoken,” and with that the hot breath was no longer in his ear. He looked up and the frog was gone and there was no sign of what had spoken to him, which he suspected had no doubt been a snake. It was always snakes with his gods, they seemed to be a fitting vessel to communicate. All that remained was the two pronged wound on his chest, that though fresh had the appearance of having closed over. He just hoped the gods hadn't sent him one of the venomous variety.
He reached into his pocket now and downed the emergency rum flask he kept there. Well, he had all the advice he needed. Climb the avatar of his gods had said, and all will be revealed. Well that was exactly what he was going to have to do and he'd be damned (quite literally) if Andy D, Lunacy, or Crazy Boy stood in his way.
Not this time.
