Trekas the Master of Notes, Anathema to the Empire

PK Gank-O-Meter

Role

Chapter 9

And so it was that Trekas found himself on a tiny island in the middle of
nowhere, sitting on a cask of dye that no one would want to buy. He knew that
in water this shallow, someone would be around to rescue him - people liked
coasts more than deep ocean afterall he reasoned.

He used the intervening time to work on his story, the one the exotic ladies
he found would adore and beg of him to put to song. The first subtle change he
made was to his name - in this foreign kingdom he would be Captain Trekas
Brightsail, which he determined sounded much more like a hero's name than
Trekas Wright the carpenter's son. He had also decided as important details
that the ship was his by right, and that he had crashed only after defeating a
mutiny. His crew had turned on him, he reasoned, because his brother had
connived to have him killed at sea to claim his vast merchant fortunes. By the
time he was finished, the past week seemed like a much more suitable story
that would fit him properly.

The other decision that Trekas made while waiting on rescue directed his goals
for the future. He knew that he would not live out his days in this foreign
land - he imagined that their ales were likely wrong and their women only
somewhat to his taste. Trekas determined that he would use this kingdom as he
imagined it to recruit an army. He would return to Murrandy with fifty-one
cannons, be elected leader by unanimous consent, and have Yirda the Black
executed. Once that was settled, he would need to have harsh words with his
brother.

He had settled all things in order and arranged them neatly in his head before
the first hint of a sail appeared on the horizon. Trekas was starting to feel
that all was right in the world as they altered course to meet him. In
addition, the ship that approached was magnificent - a strong vessel that he
imagined raining metal upon his foes. This ship, the Buzzing Hornet, was
captained by a proper crew of men that did not strike him as pirates. These
soldiers - this Empire - would be his road to both vengeance and wealth in
this new land.

He wondered if they had a fashionable taste in dye.

Role

Chapter 8

"Sailing is harder than it looks!" thought Trekas ruefully, again adjusting
the large knot doing its best to keep the ship's billowous sail secured. He
knew almost nothing about rope. He could sing a dozen songs about ships and
sailing, but not one verse had thought to mention how to tie a knot such that
it would stay in place.

But he was not dead. This fact had still not ceased to amaze him.

Beyond his inability to keep a knot secure, there were other things worth
worrying about. After his quite successful stint as a pirate, Trekas had very
quickly lost sight of land. He had a sense that he was going vaguely north
along the continued whims of the wind, but could not figure out how he was
intended to steer. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, he had only found
scant rations below deck alongside the six barrels marked as dyes. He had not
found a single drop of ale, and was going to have to make this trip sober.

Not knowing where he would land was a somewhat interesting change of pace for
Trekas - it was a dread he could not see coming. While he had accepted the
possibility that he would drown, the rogue made a concerted effort not to
dwell on it. Instead he chose to dwell on what he would tell the grand city
where he was inevitably destined to dock. In his head he imagined the
beautiful exotic women that must live there, and the riches they would bestow
upon him in exchange for the heroic tale of his escape from slavers. He
visualized himself draped in luxurious fabrics, being tended to by the subtle
touch of obedient servants. In short, Trekas spent his ocean voyage
daydreaming.

It is perhaps unsurprising that the ocean had other plans for a ship sailing
heedlessly at full sail in a somewhat straight direction. An experienced
sailor would never have put himself into a situation of having to sleep on an
unmoored ship. Trekas was no such sailor, and so it was that after dutifully
retying the sail knot on his third day adrift, he settled comfortably into a
nest of ropes for a midday nap. He had only been asleep a short time when his
journey ended - his ship crashing quite suddenly against shallow rocks.

The sharp snapping sound of splintering wood shook Trekas awake from a
pleasant dream involving figs. He had never had a fig dream before, and in
retrospect was highly disappointed not to see it to its conclusion. At that
instant however, his more immediate goal was to stay alive. The sound of a
ship crashing into rocks is less like the crumple of sticks cracking, and more
like an entire forest of trees being leveled at once by a giant. From his nest
of ropes, the bard was thrown forward by the impact to sail free of the
wreckage immediately.

When he came awake some time later, he was laying on his back half buried in a
combination of sand and debris. He was sore in a half dozen places that one
did not wish to be sore, but for the second time that week he was quite amazed
to not be dead.

Role

Chapter 7

As he rounded the last bend, with the sounds of his pursuers growing steadily
closer, he saw what might have been his last and best chance to avoid giving
the spectators the performance they were anxious to see. A small trade vessel
flying the flag of the pirate baron Yirda the Black was just raising sail and
slowly starting to pull out from the dock. The ship was high off the water and
clearly unburdened by cargo, there not being much reason to bring more than a
cursory amount of dyes no one would buy on a voyage destined to lose money.

The little Trekas knew of ships came mostly from tavern songs. One
particularly catchy one making the pubs feel less dreary of late was a
cheerful ditty about a merchant racing home to be with his lady. In this song,
the merchant tossed both his crew and wares overboard to make the trip home
faster, which everyone found both delightful and comical. Now our bard turned
would-be ship thief did not know if this was true, or why it would be funny at
all in fact, but in the moment of thought he gave while racing along the dock
he could find no reason why pirates and sailors would both sing so happily
along with something they knew to be a lie. An empty ship might well outrun
the heavily laden combat vessels that were bound to give him chase.

With his options running out, and death standing tall to meet him, the
recklessly exhausted Trekas shifted his stride and sprinted full speed toward
the end of the dangerously rickety pier that might be his salvation. Aboard
the ship was a man pulling a rope - hoisting Trekas remembered it called - to
bring the sail higher to catch the stiff ocean breeze. At the end of the pier,
with nowhere else to go, the bard leaped with all the strength remaining to
him. With luck on his side, which he felt was generally the case more often
than not, he landed safely on the deck. The thief's momentum carried him
forward, and he fell quite dramatically into the rope puller, who he saw was
the only other man onboard.

Taking inspiration from the merchant of song, he did next what was demanded of
him. Shifting his weight onto his front foot, he grabbed the surprised sailor
and cast him off the deck. Suddenly alone, not knowing what else to do with
himself, he did what the other man had been doing. Trekas pulled hard on the
rope attached to the sails, and through exhausted breaths he prayed to all the
Gods that the winds would carry him somewhere safe.

Role

Chapter 6

Very few people would have tried running from Yirda, as when you live on an
island there is a general understanding amongst everyone that there is nowhere
to go. As a result of this brash breach of decorum, the pirate baron and his
men were initially caught unaware and Trekas was able to make his way halfway
down the length of the port dock before the cries of pursuit began in earnest
behind him. Passerbys previously uninterested in the matter suddenly became
spectators, as everyone assumed that the inevitable end of this chase would be
a sound drumming. There are few finer pleasures in an ex-pirate's life than
watching another man get beaten to death.

For a new follower of Trekas' life, it might be easy to assume at this
juncture that the scoundrel was not good at very much. It would be equally
easy to assume that he did not know anything at all. Both of these beliefs,
while well founded, leave out some measure of detail. For example, when
motivated to do so Trekas is well known for being able to weave a quite
believable tale. He also has a passingly well regarded singing voice and,
useful in this instance, is fairly handy in a fight.

Though bruised and unarmed, Trekas barreled down the shoreline that made up
the island's docks as if his life depended on it - which at that moment it
quite literally did. He leapt across two baskets of fish, upended a slave
carrying washing home for his master, and overturned a cart carrying half
completed woven baskets. The trail of his escape was littered with spilled and
fallen goods as workmen and porters scrambled to get clear of the mayhem.

Role

Chapter 5

The man to whom Trekas knew he would be carried was called Yirda the Black,
one of the other less than successful pirate barons that now made up the
Murrandy nobility. Yirda's business involved a quite loathsome trade
purchasing casks of dyes from the southern continent and then reselling them
in the north. He never made money doing this, both because no reputable trader
would purchase dyes from a pirate and that his knowledge of color was three
seasons behind. Fortunately for Yirda, and unfortunately now for Trekas, he
also ran two substantially more profitable side businesses as both the
island's resident money lender and its chief slaver.

Trekas had never cared for slaves, though he did not know much about them. He
cared decidedly less for the very real prospect of becoming one himself.
Murrandy did not have a court of law, or police, or in fact any judicial
system at all. If you owed a man like Yirda gold, you either paid it or became
his property. He thought of his brother as he crossed the dock atop the
shoulder of the larger man, as this was most assuredly HIS fault. If his
brother had even given him just a few coins, he'd have won the afternoon race
and had the coin to pay! In that light it seemed downright unfair that HE
would become the slave when the fault rested so soundly elsewhere.

On the other end of the pier, just far enough away from the pub to result in
more than a few bruised ribs when carried atop the shoulder of a giant, was a
large open topped warehouse stacked with casks of dye that no one ever seemed
to want to buy. Behind that warehouse were cages people very much wanted to
buy from, full of slaves that very much did not want to be bought. It was to
the front of this warehouse that Trekas was brought, and into dirt rough with
the deep furrows of wagon wheels that he was dropped.

As he slowly regained his feet, Trekas was met with the gaze of the
buck-toothed one eyed pirate known as Yirda the Black. No woman had ever
called Yirda handsome, but one did not need good looks to be a successful
slaver. Yirda had earned his reputation for cruelty countless times, and it
was for this reason that blind panic bubbled up quickly as the bard Trekas met
the pirate's emotionless gaze. It was also for this reason that Trekas did the
most reasonable thing that came to him.

He ran.

Role

Chapter 4

While ruminating on his ill-fortune, an enormous man with dark skin and a
shaved head approached, a heavy and dangerous looking cudgel hung loosely from
his hip. "Ye Trek!" the man bellowed from three tables away in a deep island
accent that Trekas regularly only pretended to understand. "Ma' we bot know
says i' time to brin' him da' money you owe"

There are several things that people often do when a man twice their size
approaches to settle a debt. Some will beg for more time, while others will
attempt to mislead their heavily muscled collector into thinking they have the
money elsewhere to perhaps grant an opportunity for escape. Neither of these
things were what Trekas did, as in that moment of blind panic that happened
shortly after he felt his life coming to an end, he instead decided that he'd
feign losing his ability to hear.

The ruse began with an intense focus on his ale. He paid no heed to the man
stomping his feet toward him, or to the creaking of the wooden tavern floor as
it protested against the weight. For good measure, he chose that moment
instead to take a deep swig from the bitter mug before him. When the man
grabbed his shoulder, as he'd expected would happen, he cried out and stumbled
back in feigned surprise. Then to finish the show, as the man shouted at him
about his debts, threatening the dreadful things his employer would do to him
if he did not pay, Trekas simply raised his hands, tapped his ear
apologetically, and slowly shook his head.

If this had seemed like a good idea at any point to him, it very quickly
proved not to be. After only a brief quizzical look of confusion, the large
debt collector brought his cudgel to bear and smashed it into the midsection
of the unfortunate rogue. Trekas quickly crumpled in half with a sharp cry,
the room spinning suddenly as if he'd consumed far more ale than he'd had a
chance to. Before he had even recovered his breath, Trekas felt himself lifted
from the floor and thrown over the larger man's shoulder like a gasping and
wheezing bag of grain.

"At least no one will ask me to pay for my drink this time", Trekas thought as
he left the bar.

Role

Chapter 3

The island nation of Murrandy was a poor one, as nations go. When the larger
nations began to more aggressively patrol their waters with naval vessels some
decade past, a few of the less successful pirate barons banded together to
carve out their own little corner of legitimate trade.

Both the nation and its capital, currently called Murrandy City, had changed
names at least four times in Trekas' memory. The current leader had named
himself 'King Bruta the Just', which was a sharp divergence from his previous
name 'Captain Bruta with Fifty Cannons'. He became leader by unanimous consent
- as all present agreed that you did not argue with a man with fifty cannons.

Whether due to the constant name changes, unstable governments, or hesitancy
to trade with known pirates, the island currently called Murrandy had not had
much success at trade. What they did have was gambling - specifically horse
racing.

Trekas Wright did not know much about horses, though he had cause to think
about them a great deal. He could not tell a good horse from a bad, but he
thought he knew about luck. When luck turned sour, which was natural to happen
from time to time, he could also typically talk a few coins out of his boring
brother. His failure to do that this time was giving him no end of trouble,
and he found himself stewing over the matter at yet another portside pub
drinking ale he again did not have the coin to pay for.

Role

Chapter 2

One week prior Trekas Wright, who was also a scoundrel of some renown and hero
of many self-written stories, was not thinking a thing about sailing. In fact,
this son of a craftsman turned thief and neerdowell had likely spent less than
an hour of his entire life thinking about sailing. What he was thinking about
that moment was money - notably his sudden lack of it.

"How was I to know the horse was lame?" He scowled across the tiny table of a
filthy tavern at a man that looked enough like him to be believably his
brother. That he was his brother was a fact neither liked to admit, as his
brother was a proper son to their father and soon to be a master woodcarver.
These were both things that Trekas found to be dreadfully dull.

"I do not have the coin for you this time" the man across from him said again,
in the forceful but calm manner of one who'd practiced this line a few times
before sitting down. "You got yourself in this debt, you are going to have to
work yourself out of it. The craftsman's guild is looking for apprentices, and
they are always looking for men to unload at the dock."

"But I would drown and die, or cut myself and die!" Trekas pleaded in his most
pitiful and helpless voice. "And besides, I am allergic to my own sweat. I
have a solid line on the next horse. You gotta get me this one to get back on
my feet."

But his brother shook his head, and then stood to rise. "I'm sorry Trek, I
hope you work this out." he said mournfully. A moment later he had left,
leaving the first man alone with a half finished pint of beer and no coins to
pay for it.

Role

Chapter 1

"Who could have possibly known? This is decidedly NOT my fault", said a tall
man to himself as he stepped over the broken wreckage and shattered wood of
what used to be a ship."

A casual observer might well have claimed it WAS quite decidedly his fault as
he was the captain, an indisputable fact that would likely have been disputed
all the same. But as there were no observers, casual or otherwise, his
statement met the empty sea air with nary a complaint.

It had not always been like this for Trekas Brightsail, scoundrel of some
renown and hero of many stories - all written and performed by him. He had,
until recently, been a quite successful musician and gambler. He'd never
cheated enough to make anyone suspicious, and if by chance he went home with
another man's wife he never overstayed his welcome and was always the first to
go.

"This is patently unfair", he thought. The sun was high overhead by then. His
voyage to get stranded upon this tiny island in the middle of the sea had been
a chaotic one, some three days tossed at sea before crashing quite
dramatically, but for the time being there did not seem anywhere else to go.
This bard turned sailor turned over a still intact barrel marked as dye, and
settled in to wait on rescue.

Immortal Comments

PK Statistics

Song List

Skill List

Title History

PK Wins

PK Deaths

Leveling History

Timeline

Mob Deaths