|
Post by thundertail on Oct 24, 2007 17:03:57 GMT -5
IC: Clubber, Balckfish tavern
"I usually work to earn my keep, too...", Clubber said, suddenly realising he was broke too - or was he? "Maybe I got a thing or two out in my cart to trade..."
It seemed that the whole room went silent as Isabella silently considered what he said. He thought hard, thinking of all the items he had in the storage compartment under the seat. He usually kept camping equipment and firewood under there; plus the box where he kept his personal posessions. It meant a lot to him, but there was only one thing in there of real value. It was a medallion the Archaeological Guild of Waterfall City gave him for helping them carry supplies to an Archaeological dig - it made him an honorary guild member!
Maybe he could pawn it off for cash...
"Yeah, I think I got something.", he nodded his boxy head. "If you're interested, that is."
TAG: Isabella Tortoiseback
|
|
|
Post by Christopher on Oct 24, 2007 21:33:30 GMT -5
Chris stopped, just as he was starting his trek down the road. He was hoping to get out of town without having to say goodbye to anyone, or even tell them he was leaving. Turning his head just slightly, he looks over his shoulders at the old man that stopped him.
"ye'sa, I'll be takin my leave of you kind folk."
|
|
|
Post by rasputinsghost on Oct 25, 2007 22:13:58 GMT -5
OOC: Merry Christmas! It's the opening of the RP! If anyone's got any questions about the format, it's okay to make OOC posts, or to PM me. IC: Isaiah Achebe, Backbone Shipping Company, RuhmsburgIsaiah stumbled down the stairs swearing that he’d never drink that hard again, or at least not without ample reason to celebrate. Bolo was, of course, already awake and ready to face the day. Isaiah never knew how the little saurian did it, but the green guy didn’t look more than just a bit tired. Bolo looked up at Isaiah as he entered the kitchen, and inclined his head in the ceratopsian equivalent of an ironic smirk. The human would have resented him for it if he weren’t so grateful that Bolo had started boiling coffee. The aroma seemed to fill the two-story building, and Isaiah could almost feel his headache fading. “Morning,” Isaiah mumbled. “Good morning,” Bolo said, “Rough night last night.” “Yeah, very rough. You saved us, though.” Bolo chuffed. “Let’s just hope they let us back in the Blackfish.” “Ugh,” Isaiah scoffed, as he poured coffee into a mug, “I don’t think I ever want to go back in there.” “You say that every time.” “Well, next time I’m only drinking tea.” “You say that every time, too.” Isaiah shrugged and took his steaming mug to the study/living area, where much of the business of Backbone Shipping took place. Bolo padded along behind him. Isaiah picked up a copy of Shaw’s Pygmalion out of his chair and tossed it down on the floor beside a tome of dramatic works by Ferin Tallclaw. As he sank into the seat cushions and took a deep sip of his coffee, Bolo settled into a little couch. “A lot on the docket, today,” said the Protoceratops. “Well, hopefully,” said Isaiah. They had paid for an ad calling for people interested in working for a courier service. Print ads were ferried about Backbone Shipping was getting more demands, and needed to properly render its services. The ad called for applicants to show up at headquarters in Ruhmsburg, and was now flying just about everywhere but the Rainy Basin. Hell, they should have sent the message there, too; they could use the muslce. “It’s possible that no one’s interested and no one shows up.” “On the contrary,” said Bolo, “if no one shows up, we’ll be even more busy trying to figure out how to manage our work load.” Isaiah took another draught of his coffee, and massaged his forehead with his fingers. “What’s first on the docket for today?” “Applejack.” “What?” “DJ Applejack, our old client. He’s coming a-callin’ in a few hours.” “Right.” Isaiah had forgotten about this appointment. He wasn’t entirely certain what the guy wanted to come all the way to Ruhmsburg for. He ran a curio shop in Waterfall City and Isaiah and Bolo had moved some cargo for him in the past. He half considered being “away from the office” when Applejack arrived, but decided that wouldn’t be acceptable behavior. He looked around the room: books were strewn about the floor, stacks of paper occupied corners, as well as bunches of correspondence. He turned to Bolo. “Well, maybe we should tidy up, some, before he arrives. Besides, if people think we’re slobs, they won’t want to work with us.” Bolo chirruped his agreement. TAG: Aric, Everyone
IC: Geoffrey Arlington, JorotongoStroking his beard and inhaling deeply as he marched to the center of town, Geoffrey marveled at the beauty of the day the Creator had bestowed on Jorotongo. Of course, part of it was chance. If a year ago the youngest child had taken his first steps in a different direction, the elders would have marched the town everyone else, and the migrating village may have been experiencing worse weather right now. But as it stood, their current settlement, a day’s march from Snailshanks, was experiencing sunshine and a glorious breeze. Then again, perhaps it was part of the Creator’s plan that the child took steps toward Snailshanks. Ah, the mysteries of the world! Pulled along by an enthusiastic child, the recent excitement Jorotongo had experienced was made crystal clear. They had been visited by two strangers: one was a Maori man who seemed to find small comfort in the village, in everything from the food to the style of buildings the people lived in; the other, a man who arrived later, was American, and, having heard that the people of Jorotongo were descended from puritans, came seeking Christians. They did not measure up to what he was looking for, and he was disappointed, but enjoyed the hospitality nonetheless, and had brightened considerably during his stay. And now there was this: a Dimorphodon had arrived with a message, and Geoffrey was the only one around who could understand the language of small pterosaurs. A crowd had assembled around the little creature, whose chest heaved from his journey. The little girl led Geoffrey to the branch where the critter decided to perch. Immediately, as if in a great rush, it opened its colorful beak and chattered away. It introduced itself as Puffinstuff, a messenger, and it needed Geoffrey to make the following announcement: Backbone Shipping Company, a courier service based in Ruhmsburg, was recruiting anyone hardy enough or, frankly, interested enough in the job. No experience was necessary, and the rewards could be great, including travel and adventure, in addition to whatever material goods earned as payment. All interested should inquire for Isaiah Achebe in Ruhmsburg. With that, the Dimorphodon took off to fly to the next town, leaving a bewildered Geoffrey to relay this seemingly trivial message to the crowd. TAG: rasputinsghost, ChrisinDixie
IC: Isabella Tortoiseback, The Blackfish TavernOutsiders made the denizens of The Blackfish Tavern nervous. The Blackfish was a place full of people who tended to run up against many of the more ideal of Dinotopian ideals, which meant that new customers were wont to proselytize or wag fingers. But these two new faces didn’t seem the type to complain or object. One was an Ankylosaur who arrived the previous night. The other was a runty Achillobator who didn’t seem used to being around non-carnosaurs. Interestingly enough, they had both asked Isabella where they could find work. Wiping down the bar with a rag, she had referred them both to a flyer outside written in Ceratopsia script. RECRUITING! The Backbone Shipping Company, based in Ruhmsburg, is looking for hardy individuals with a bit of salt and swagger to help expand its operation. Benefits of the job include travel, adventure, and a good deal of wealth. No experience necessary, but enthusiasm and a tough hide are a must.
If you think you’re up to it, look for Isaiah Achebe at Backbone headquarters, Ruhmsburg. She then went back to making drinks. She couldn't help but give newcomers the cold shoulder like this: the people at the Blackfish were the type that were slow to get to know you, but once you gained their trust they were loyal. Maybe she'd see the two saurians for breakfast. TAG: korkoa, thundertailKinaki sat and watched the sun rise for the fifth time that week. He remembered Oar's advice and breathed deep, sought peace. It seemed to work. His bed, a near to his own back on Taranaki, was a simple reed mat place at the center of his thatched home. He had painted its walls and outside green, the colors of his tribe. The kotiate, which he slept with, was strapped to his thigh, and his spear hung on the far wall. Oar's tooth still rested like a teardrop on his chest. He stood and left his house, feeling the cool mist of the early dawn. His house was bare, all of his old trade goods long since given away for food, water, and clothes. The province of the warrior was fighting, and there was none to be had here. There never would be, he thought. He walked into the forest, carefully weighting his steps. If the warrior could not fight, he could still hone his skills. Life in the Iwi had taught him that practice was utterly essential. He breathed and felt the sun's heat touch his skin through the tree cover. He found tracks quickly, placing his fingers in the grooves. He ran while crouched, his hand on his kotiate's hilt. Not wanting to give away his position, he mouthed the words of his iwi's haka, a war prayer. His sandals made little sound as he hopped over leaf piles rife with twigs meant for breaking. The tracks disappeared and Kinaki paused. He knew that the dinosaurs of the Rainy Basin had to remain there by treaty, but all oaths were eventually broken... Then he heard breathing from afar. A sleeping Pachycephalosaurus lay in a clearing, silently. It had not woken. He crept closer and closer to the sleeping dinosaur, noting that it wore a small colored leather pouch hung about its legs, and a scroll protruded from it. Kinaki came close enough to feel the heat radiate from its sleeping body. Stealing isn't stealing if I give it back, he reasoned. Deftly he slid the scroll out of its place and began to read it. It read: RECRUITING! The Backbone Shipping Company, based in Ruhmsburg, is looking for hardy individuals with a bit of salt and swagger to help expand its operation. Benefits of the job include travel, adventure, and a good deal of wealth. No experience necessary, but enthusiasm and a tough hide are a must. If you think you’re up to it, look for Isaiah Achebe at Backbone headquarters, Ruhmsburg. A job would be beneath me in a different life, but here, alone, Kinaki found that he needed something to do. Jorotongo only held pained memories of home, its architecture merely aping the homes of his iwi. It was too painful to remain, he decided. Kinaki returned the parchment to the sleeping dinosaur's pouch, and walked back to town to find a map.
|
|
Stouthorn
Junior Scholar
"POWER! UNLIMITED POWER!!"
Posts: 341
|
Post by Stouthorn on Oct 26, 2007 1:24:26 GMT -5
IC: Isabella Tortoiseback, The Blackfish Tavern
The Saurian rumbled and moaned an assertion that he might have something to trade.
"Well," Isabella said, "let's see it and we'll decide, then. In the mean time, I'll go back and get your orders..."
She nodded and turned back to the kitchen, going through the doorflaps, leaving the Achillobator behind her. Remembering, she turned.
"I assume you want that marlin raw?"
TAG: korkoa and thundertail
IC: Geoffrey Arlington, Jorotongo
"Ye'sa," said the American traveller, "I'll be takin' my leave of you kind folk."
They often did, Geoffrey mused. "Well," he said, "I pray that your journey will be easy and that either you find what you're looking for or what you're looking for finds you. Please, come back and allow us to provide you with some provisions to take with you. Food, drink...please, I insist."
It was then that he noticed, coming from the direction of the Rainy Basin, the other stranger, the Maori man, approaching. "Ah," he said, grinning mildly, "one warrior goes, and another approaches..." He waved at the distant man, and, with a hand gesture, implored the American to follow him.
TAG: Christopher, rasputinsghost
|
|
SilvanoshiS
Apprentice
flightless and loving it
Posts: 143
|
Post by SilvanoshiS on Oct 26, 2007 1:34:55 GMT -5
Name: Jul’althus (Julius)
Species: Hypacrosaurus (a species of Hadrosaur)
Gender: Male
Place of Origin: Waterfall City
Age: 107 years
Height: 12’7”
Length: 32’6”
Weight: 4.6 tons
Appearance: Grey-skinned with age spots just beginning to show. His face is painted in tribal patterns that have not been seen on Dinotopia for about 60 years due to many of the secluded tribe’s integration into “modern” dinotopian society. There are several age-old scars along his left flank betraying the sense that he is a completely benign physician.
Possessions: A marshy strip of land up the river from Waterfall city which he uses to farm several of the herbs he uses for medicine, a pack that has several compartments for the different herbs that he finds on his expeditions, and a hackey-sack
Skills: Medicinal herbology and excellent eye-limb co-ordination due to the constant use of the hackey-sack.
Languages: Dinotopian, Carnosaur, Stilted English and Skybaxian
Alignments: Physician’s Guild, Apothecary Guild
Biography: Grew up in a marsh on the opposite side of Waterfall City, downriver from the great city, where he learned his first types of herbal cures from his father. When he became of age (17 by his tribes standards) he left on a journey through the rainy basin, as was the custom in those days. He survived the trial and was accepted into the tribe, but at a cost; His father died mysteriously during his journey. Later Jul’althus found out that his father had died the same day that he was struck and nearly killed by a carnosaur in the basin. This has fostered a strong belief in the tribe’s old teachings, to the point of abandonment of the tribe when it moved into civilized country. Jul’althus eventually came to miss the interaction between others and has recently been forced into the city to socialize. This is why he adopted the name Julius; not many people could say his name properly. He has since joined both the apothecary’s and physician’s guilds to further the medical training that his father gave him.
|
|
|
Post by thundertail on Oct 26, 2007 6:25:22 GMT -5
IC: Clubber, Blackfish tavern
Clubber shifted his four ton weight, deep in thought. That medallion he had earned through many months of hard work, and he hated to lose it this way: just for filling his fat gut! He finally grunted and backed away from the bar.
"May as well go and get it...", he said. "Hey Korkoa, want to go with me? I'll show you the cart while I'm there!"
Clubber winked his armored eye as another human waitress scooted past the Ankylosaur's tail and other goings on in the tavern. Knots of scraggly looking humans wandered in and either took tables or joined them at the bar; and thier smaller saurian counterparts came in and dispersed around the room. the general hubbub of human and saurian voices escalated in volume as the tavern was gradually filling up.
"On second thought, maybe you should stay here and save our spots!", Clubber recanted. "The place is getting too crowded!", he turned and headed out the door of the Blackfish tavern.
TAG: Korkoa
|
|
Korkoa
Dolphinback
I'm a Christian Dinotopia lover. So?
Posts: 43
|
Post by Korkoa on Oct 26, 2007 9:05:59 GMT -5
IC: I turned to look at the waitress. "Yes, please. Actually, do you have it smoked?" Before I got an answer, I turned back to Clubber, "Sure, I guard this spot with my life!" Noticing people staring at me, I said: "Uh... it's a figure of speech. I'm not going to kill anyone."
|
|
Stouthorn
Junior Scholar
"POWER! UNLIMITED POWER!!"
Posts: 341
|
Post by Stouthorn on Oct 26, 2007 16:13:23 GMT -5
IC: Isabella Tortoiseback, The Blackfish Tavern
Isabella listened as the raptor made some snarling remark that sounded threatening, before apologizing emphatically. Rolling her eyes, she said, "Smoked. Gotcha." And turned back to inform the therizinosaur chef.
------ IC: Fiddledee, The Blackfish Tavern
The stygimiloch knew that the tavern was a good place to find information. Lady Crumplesnoot liked information, and Fiddledee knew that the Lady wanted a particular piece of information: what was Isaiah Achebe up to and where could she find him? As Achebe insolently frequented this pub, Fiddledee was certain he'd get something out of someone.
Most people there recognized him, and he recognized most of them. Fiddledee learned a long time ago that the best people to ask, if you could, were newcomers. If they didn't know your reputation, they'd tend to cooperate. Especially those Dinotopians who thought everything was sunshine and roses.
He pushed past a large Ankylosaurus that was on his way out of the bar, towards the kennels where larger saurians tended to stay, and made a bee line for a lone Achillobator sitting at the bar, wearing a blue vest. He turned his spike covered head towards him and, in his best raptor, managed, "Hello. How you do?"
TAG: korkoa -----
IC: Puffinstuff, Jul'althus' Dwelling, Waterfall City
It had been a bad day. The winds had picked up as Puffinstuff the dimorphodon tried to go around the Rainy Basin and hit the settlements along the way. He had been forced higher and higher - determined to finish his run - until he was lost and off course. During an attempt to loop back around, a particularly strong wind gust had pushed him, flailing, into the Basin. He hit a tree and injured his wing. He'd have to put down for the night, but not in the Basin. No, fear caused him to try and get as far from the Basin as possible, towards the Polongo river. His wing was in pain but he pressed on, fearing being stranded on the ground far from anyone who could help him. He beat his hurt wing as hard as his little heart would let him. The last thing he wanted was to lose flight over Thunder Falls. Finally, he crash landed in Waterfall City, where he was picked up and taken to the physician's guild. Once there, he had been taken to a Hypacrosaur named Jul'althus who. usefully enough, spoke Skybax. They went back and forth in this pterosaur tongue, and, Puffinstuff got his wing bandaged. By way of gratitude, Puffinstuff relayed his message to Jul'althus, the same one he had announced in Jorotongo earlier that day.
He now perched on a window sill, looking out at the city below him.
TAG: SilvanoshiS
|
|
Korkoa
Dolphinback
I'm a Christian Dinotopia lover. So?
Posts: 43
|
Post by Korkoa on Oct 27, 2007 10:24:43 GMT -5
IC: I was sitting at the bar, daydreaming about this new job, when I heard someone speaking Raptor! "Hello." He said, "How do you do? My head turned sharply toward the raptor-speaking Stygimiloch. "Wha- Oh, hi. I'm fine, and you?"
TAG: Fiddledee.
|
|
Stouthorn
Junior Scholar
"POWER! UNLIMITED POWER!!"
Posts: 341
|
Post by Stouthorn on Oct 27, 2007 11:15:11 GMT -5
OOC: By the way, thundertail, you don't have to be tagged to post. Tags just refer to who an individual is directing his posts towards, i.e. who he's "tagged" to respond. I haven't been tagging you because Clubber's headed out of the pub and toward the dinosaur residences, so he's all alone.
IC: Fiddledee, The Blackfish Tavern
Fiddledee cleared his throat and shook his spiny head, and proceeded in his poor approximation of raptor. "Me no quite good. Er...maybe you help? I have queries."
It was a good thing most dinosaurs didn't have enough muscles in their faces to make expressions, because Fiddledee would be grimacing right now at his performance. Oh well, maybe the raptor would sympathize with him for trying so hard. Maybe. He was a carnivore, and they usually preyed on the weak...
TAG: korkoa
|
|
Korkoa
Dolphinback
I'm a Christian Dinotopia lover. So?
Posts: 43
|
Post by Korkoa on Oct 27, 2007 17:07:22 GMT -5
IC: I switched to basic Saurian. "Y'know, I can speak languages other than Carnivore." I cocked my head, hopefully a nont-threatening gesture. "What did you want to know?"
|
|
|
Post by thundertail on Oct 27, 2007 20:09:26 GMT -5
IC: Clubber, Blackfish tavern
Clubber clopped off the steps of the Blackfish tavern and turned down the lane, to the path leading to the small clearing where he had left his reconditioned Copro cart last night. He passed many saurians coming back from being hitched up, and paced a few more that were on thier way to do so. When he got there he found his cart just the way he left it; but the Gypsy-like wagon he parked next to was missing, along with many other carts he remembered from last night. Looking left and right, he scrabbled up to his cart and walked around it; doing a visual inspection of the contrivance like he did every time he approached it.
The cart itself was thirty five feet long, with a thirty foot hitch that was designed for Ankylosaur use. It wasn't the largest Copro cart on the island, ones where it took a pair of sauropods to pull it; nor was it those smaller ones that humans and other small dinosaurs pushed around cities. This one was of medium build, made for medium saurians to pull around farms and small towns; but this model was becoming obsolete, and being phased out throughout the island - and was quite a bargain! The hooklike shoulderpads went over his shoulders, and leather strapping went over and under his torso to hold him in place. The front wheels were five feet tall while the rear wheels were ten feet tall. The front ones were small so they could rotate on a turretlike mount constructed underneath. The bed of the cart was six feet off the ground; and though the cargo area was originally designed to pivot so the load could be dumped, this Copro cart was redesigned with a rigid framework. It used to be painted a bright crimson at one time; but years of baking sun, torrential downpours and sheer neglect had left the whole cart bleached and nearly colorless. The Copro guild emblem was still on either side of the cart: a blue shield with a golden crown at its' center; but that was equally faded.
He looked up at the driver's seat and small enclosed living area a full ten feet off theground; and seeing that everything was the way he left it, went down to the storage compartments underneath them. The storage compartments were split in two by a short wall within that provided support for the living area above. The left hand compartment held all sorts of camping gear he and his driver would need, but the right side contained firewood and all of his personal belongings. The ring latch that secured this compartment was a mirror image of the one on the other side, and designed to look like a Triceratops holding a brass ring in his mouth; but the ring didn't pull down like one would expect. Clubber grabbed the ring in his teeth and twisted it counterclockwise, and the hatch folded down on brass hinges. Inside he saw all his spare blankets for those chilly nights and a steelclad wooden box; and in the gloom could be seen the half cord of firewood still there. He pulled the box out with his teeth, then nosed the box open to reveal his prised treasures.
There wasn't much in there that others would consider valuable; but they certainly were to Clubber. The box contained his birth cirtificate, a few writs of reccomendation, the title to the Copro cart, a commendation from the Archaeological guild of Waterfall City and many letters and correspondence from friends and relatives; which made up the bulk of the items. Underneath these items was the thing he came here for, and he nosed the papers aside to bring it into the light. On a thick brass chain long enough to fit around his neck was a pretty thing indeed. The medallion was given to him by the Archaeological guild: a cartuche-like amulet designed almost like the 'Eye Of Horus' of ancient Egyptian lore; only the eye was designed like a saurian eye instead. The catlike iris was made of opal, and was embossed with Lapis all around with tiny mica chips forming the wording of the Archaeological guild in saurian script - and covered all around with gold leaf. On the reverse side of the medallion was his name embossed with mica chips in saurian script. It was almost ten pounds in weight including the chain; and the last time he wore it, it seemed to weigh nothing. Everyone who participated in the expedition got one...
Clubber lifted the amulet out with his tongue and grasped it in his teeth so he could flip the chain over his head; and when he did so, the amulet dangled under his chin. Looking at his reflection in the brassy hubcap next to him, he smiled and closed the storage compartment. Wearing it brought back memories of that grand achievement; and the wonders of science he helped bring to light. He knew nothing of Archaeology before that trip, and became even more confused if any of the eggbrained scientists tried to explain things to him; but he had a grand time just the same. He began taking happier steps as he left his cart and made his way back to the tavern proper.
As Clubber stepped back into the Blackfish tavern, the whole room became silent as if the noise was swallowed up by a tidal wave; and many eyes soon drew to his form, and to the amulet dangling from his neck!
"What?...", Clubber asked nervousely, lifting a foreleg and checking for odor. Finally shrugging, he trundled over to where he left Koroka; and someone else was there, talking to him.
TAG: Koroka, Fiddledee
|
|
aric
demi-admin
I drink your milkshake!
Posts: 989
|
Post by aric on Oct 27, 2007 22:05:50 GMT -5
DJ rattled in his seat as the pachycephalosaur pulled the wagon the human was sitting in up the last stretch of the road to Ruhmsburg. His butt was sore from the bumpy ride on the miles-long road from the small pier aside the Jubila River. And before that, he got water-logged from the trireme trip along the coast from Sauropolis. That didn’t even include the ride down the Polongo from Waterfall City…. All this for a curio-finding expedition financed by a parasaurolophus named Krekor. Krekor… what the hell kind of name was that? It didn’t sound right even in Saurian….
The wagon jolted to a stop almost causing DJ to fly forward onto the saurian’s back. “Hey!” DJ shouted. “Watch your driving!”
The pachycephalosaur harrumphed. DJ didn’t need to be familiar in saurian to know he’d been told to shove off.
Grumbling, DJ hopped off the front passenger’s seat and started to walk to the back of the wagon to retrieve his cases. An irritated bleat made him jump and whip around. The pachycephalosaur driver craned his head in DJ’s direction and snorted. “Okay okay. Sheesh! What kind of customer do you think I am? I take it you want the agreed-upon amount for the taxi fee.”
The saurian rumbled amicably – the first time he did so the entire trip. Muttering, DJ fished into the satchel he had hanging by his side. He produced a ten-credit gold token and slipped it into the saurian’s purse-pouch which was hanging from the dinosaur’s back and lying against his side. “There, happy?” DJ asked. The saurian crooned and lightly bucked his harness, letting DJ know in a not-so-subtle fashion that he wanted DJ’s stuff out of his wagon. Luckily for DJ, the flash of gold had set a couple of idle coolies up and running towards the wagon. He sighed – he hadn’t intended to spend any more money than he needed for the trip, hoping to cut out a lot of middle men to maximize his profits once the item was in hand. But then, half the world was middle men, and all were trying to get by. He pointed at the cases and bags in the back of the wagon. “A two-credit gold piece and two Big Silvers for each of you for your trouble” DJ offered.
One of the coolies – a human – stopped and rubbed his chin in a mockingly thoughtful manner. “Well, let’s see,” said the human coolie. His saurian companion – a Troodon – snickered. The pachycephalosuar driver growled their way. The human coolie yipped and both of them dashed toward the back wagon to grab DJ’s stuff. Now it was DJ’s turn to snicker. The troodon managed his load by tying two of the large cases and straddling them over his back with some help from his human companion. The human coolie had to lug his load without such aids. Once DJ’s things were off the wagon, the pachycephalosaur walked off, pulling his wagon behind him, in the north-easterly direction.
DJ turned to the human coolie, who appeared to speak passable English, and said “I want these things taken to the headquarters of the Backbone Shipping Company. With a spring in their step they marched towards Isaiah’s place. DJ trudged after them thinking about this rather unusual expedition that Krekor had sent him on. Apparently, Krekor was fond of hanging around in the Waterfall City Library archives and looking up little facts about Dinotopia’s ancient history. He seemed to have a special fondness for the now-defunct Poseidosian empire. When DJ first met Krekor, he found a lot of what the saurian had to say pretty interesting. However, DJ had learned to tune out a lot of what Krekor yammered on about as Krekor was prone to go off into tangents and non sequiturs. What he had caught was about fantastic tales of mechanical monsters and flying machines – not to mention unheard of technological power. The only thing comparable to what the saurian talked about was Plato’s myth of Atlantis.
And now, Krekor was paying DJ to go on a little expedition to actually look for something he read about in one of those dusty scrolls. He wasn’t quite sure what this Sunstone Sceptre did. But Krekor was willing to pay good money for it. Krekor even went through the unusual step of paying two-thirds of his total fee up-front. That didn’t even include the paid-expenses promissory notes and petty cash Krekor dished out. It would seem Krekor wanted this sceptre more than he did the loads of money he was unloading onto DJ. Of course, from the directions that DJ had briefly glanced over after his business partner Grigori had handed them to him after receiving them from Krekor, it looked like he’d be needing that money to either bribe some low-level carnivore peons to pass unmolested through the Basin, or to hire some muscle to protect DJ and his stuff from the predators outside of the Basin…
DJ’s thoughts were interrupted when the human coolie cleared his throat. DJ looked up and saw that he was already under the front awning of the Backbone Shipping Company. The human coolie and his Troodon companion laid his stuff next to the front door and held their hands out. DJ paid them what he owed and they skipped off, glad to have bought enough for a couple of meals and a week of boarding at the local inn. DJ sighed and looked at the pile of cases and luggage I front of Isaiah’s door. He’s gonna love me for this DJ thought. He knocked on the door.
- Aric
|
|
Stouthorn
Junior Scholar
"POWER! UNLIMITED POWER!!"
Posts: 341
|
Post by Stouthorn on Oct 27, 2007 23:57:35 GMT -5
IC: Fiddledee, The Blackfish Tavern
"What did you want to know?"
Fiddledee made a grumbling sound in his throat. He didn't like speaking "Basic Saurian." It was so...ugly. The idea behind its creation was that, like humans, dinosaurs should create a basic language for simple communication with everyone. The difference was that humans, despite their various backgrounds, were all one species with a common set of vocal apparatus. Dinosaurs came in all shapes, sizes, and biologies, and had all sorts of different sound producing capabilities. Basic Saurian was a compromise. It was an inelegant collection of sign language and grunts.
But...such was life. Stay on the raptor's good side. Get the information. Stay on task.
He continued in Basic Saurian. "Do you know of a man named Isaiah Achebe? He comes here sometimes. Owns a shipping company."
He waited for a response, trying to appear casual. He idly watched the Ankylosaur who passed him earlier reentering the tavern, a medallion around his neck.
TAG: korkoa, thundertail
IC: Isaiah Achebe, Backbone Shipping Company Headquarters, Ruhmsburg
Bolo sat, bored, staring out the window. Isaiah sat in his chair, sipping his coffee and reading Tallclaw's work, this time a particular play whose title was often translated as "WorldBasin" but who's meaning was more equivelant to "When the world was as the Basin is." It was famous for being particularly daring for the Dinotopian stage: it was one of the only works that actually took place during a time when dinosaurs walked the entire earth, and there was no civilization. It was based on a few saurian myths and legends and entertained the idea that, in its own way, things were better, then.
It was a notoriously difficult play to stage, and was usually only read. The subject matter was unpalatable in most of Sauroplis and Waterfall City, and the availability of theater space large enough to accomodate large theropod performers was rare. Isaiah had seen an interesting production here in Ruhmsburg with an all-human cast in elaborate, impressionistic costumes. Reviews were mixed. Isaiah loved it. Bolo hated it. Since Bolo was the semi-professional theater critic between them, it was Bolo's opinion that seemed to carry weight in conversations about it.
Isaiah looked up from the book to see the helicoid geochronograph on the wall. It was ornate, and beautiful, and utterly useless. He had received it as payment for a job he had done, but, while it was a masterful work of craftsmanship, it was unintelligible. He used a pocketwatch to tell the time, instead, and let the cranking and tuning of the spiralling "clock" to Bolo. Still, he knew DJ was late, and went back to his reading.
Slowly, Bolo lifted his head and lazily turned it in Isaiah's direction. He blinked. Isaiah looked up. "Applejack's here," Bolo said, impassive, "He's brought bags."
Isaiah closed his book, sighed, and put it aside.
TAG: Aric
|
|
|
Post by thundertail on Oct 28, 2007 8:06:20 GMT -5
OCC: You can use my RP character name for tags - I'll know who you mean! (LOL!)
IC: Clubber, Blackfish tavern
The spiky crested creature talking with Koroka was just a little bit shorter than Clubber's bipedal friend, but one could compare them like night and day; for if this was an uncivilized society, one would be predator and one would be prey. But here they were simply talking, getting along and trying to get to know each other. Clubber just sauntered up to the pair and took his previous place by the bar like nothing was amiss.
"Say buddy, I thought you were going to save my spot!", he joked.
The smell of frying meat and boiling vegetables wafted through from the kitchen and made Clubber remember why he was here. One look at Koroka and he saw the case was the same for him. Then he took a look at this Stygimoloch and gave him a smile.
"So, who's your friend?", Clubber inquired.
TAG: Koroka, Fiddledee
|
|