Post by Blu on Oct 27, 2014 13:40:35 GMT -5
The title is a working one... if you have a better idea let me know.
Anyway please give this a look over? I hope to submit it by Friday. Please make sure there are no plot holes and that everything sounds good. I know I used second person, if you don't think it works, let me know. Other than that destroy it however you please.
Anyway please give this a look over? I hope to submit it by Friday. Please make sure there are no plot holes and that everything sounds good. I know I used second person, if you don't think it works, let me know. Other than that destroy it however you please.
You have always considered yourself a traveller. Your stories of daring adventures and races from gigantic monsters seemed incomparable. This changed for you, however, one afternoon as you sauntered through Moltara--picking up metal goods and lamps to trade during your travels--when a smiling, magma, Gnorbu hollered your way.
“Traveller,” you heard him holler in your direction, “Do you care to have all your questions answered?”
You looked at the Gnorbu. He seemed friendly enough, a smile stretching across his face to reveal fire-red teeth. You shrug your shoulders as you walked into the small hut and sat down across from the Gnorbu.
As he shakes your hand, he says, “My name is Igneot and I am a mystic who knows all.”
“Ya, right,” you scoffed, starring at the Gnorbu. “Nobody knows everything.”
Igneot raised his eyebrow at you. “Go ahead then, ask me any question.”
You thought for a moment, pondering the most absurd question he would not be able to answer. This mystic does not know you, you realized as you think through questions in your mind. A devious smile stretched across your face, your heart racing at the prospect of proving this mystic wrong.
“Name any other adventurer who has had better adventures than me,” you challenged the Gnorbu. He simply smiled at you. Irritation rose in the pit of your stomach at his grin.
“I know a man who sailed the lava tunnels of Moltara--” the Gnorbu began. “—and he had an adventure you have never had.”
***
“It was a position of honor in Moltara to be recognized by the title of Commodore. Many Neopians had acquired this title, but none were more deserving than Rigney Birkin.
Birkin had been just a small Kougra –a lad-- when he first set sail upon the S. S. Steam Reliant. He commanded his ship with discipline, but fairness. He motivated his sailors to work hard daily so that the pay was well earned.
It had been one day--while the S. S. Steam Reliant was transporting that week’s metal ore to Moltara-- the S. S. Steam Reliant came under attack. Rigney Birkin was sauntering through the steam engines, making sure that none overheated as it sailed over the lava on that hot day – hot even for Moltara’s standards. The gages read green and a healthy steam screamed from the metal holes, telling Birkin that all was good and that ship was running well.
“Incoming ship!” a sailor shouted into the horn—a communication device used throughout the large steam ship.
“Strange,” Rigney Birkin mumbled to himself as he ascended the metal steps, his boots stamping against each grate with a light clinking noise. As he walked upon the deck, the humid air assaulted his nose, increasing his difficulty to breath. Sweat began to drip through his fur. As he looked about the main deck he was addressed his first mate.
“The ship approaches quickly sir,” his first mate informed him. “We have attempted to make contact but to no avail, the ship does not reply.”
“Strange,” Rigney Birkin said yet again, only this time to his first mate, “What ship wouldn’t hail us in the lava tunnels? It is too easy for ships to ram one another in these tunnels, no matter how wide the tunnels are. The lava waves are hard to counter and makes the best of captains loose control of their steamships.”
“Perhaps it is an enemy,” Birkin’s first mate suggested.
“Perhaps,” Birkin agreed, “However, these tunnels are traversed only by Moltarians. What Moltarian would be an enemy to their own land?”
As the ship approached, Birkin’s anxiety grew. He paced along the main deck, his hands firmly clasped behind his back, debating what the ship could be. The ship grew closer to the S. S. Steam Reliant. The crew grew nervous as no flag was flown and no signal of hospitality was made. Birkin made his way into the pilothouse. The small red Wocky tilted his head in respect to the captain as Birkin gazed out the front window.
“Oh Fyora help us,” he whispered into the glass as he saw that upon the ship, pirates scuttled around ready to take the S. S. Steam Reliant as their captive. Birkin immediately moved into action.
“Prepare for battle,” he cried. “Do not let them steal the metal ore!”
Rigney Birkin’s crew ran about the main deck like sailors do when havoc approaches their ship. Above on deck, a Jubjub bounces around loading a cannon. Below deck a Shoyru shovels coal into the furnace, increasing the speed of the S. S. Steam Reliant. Birkin looked ahead to the pirate ship, a large metal steam ship, much like the S. S. Steam Reliant with tall stacks billowing black soot and smoke into the tunnel. Perhaps, Birkin thought to himself, if we fill the tunnel with smoke, we can slip by unnoticed. With haste, Birkin reached up to the radio horn.
“Captain Birkin to engineering, Captain Birkin to engineering, can you hear me?” he said into the communicator.
“Loud and clear Capt.,” a squeaky little voice said through the communicator.
“I want you to fill the engines with coal, make as much smoke as you can.”
“Aye-aye sir,” the voice said. “Exactly how much smoke, sir?”
“Enough to fill the tunnel with smog.”
***
The ship was now upon the S. S. Steam Reliant. Sailors tried muffling their coughs into cloths and handkerchiefs but the smoke in the tunnel was still to much. Many retreated inside the ship’s engine room or pilothouse. Rigney Birkin’s heart raced, thumping loudly against his orange chest fur. He ran a paw though his white mustache and up to his ear, sweat sticking underneath his claws. Birkin’s first mate approached.
“We seem to be under cover from the smog,” he reported. “Do you really think this is going to work?”
“I do not know,” Rigney Birkin replied. “Be prepared for anything and keep the sailors quiet.”
The smog was thick, but Birkin worried it was not thick enough. He could hear the engines of the pirate ship no more than fifty feet larboard. Bracing himself against the smoke shafts, Birkin strained his ears to listen. Across the tunnel he could hear the pirates, angry and shouting at one another.
“Ye can’t see a darn thing!”
“Open ye eyes ye chunk O’Korbat spit!”
“Whatcha be callin’ me?”
Birkin smirked to himself as the angry yelling passed by him. The S. S. Steam Reliant was nearly clear now--clear to sail back to Moltara smoothly, without any more trouble. Birkin began to walk back to the engine room to inform his crew that the tunnel was clear when something knocked up against the S. S. Steam Reliant throwing Birkin to the ground with a hard clank of his body against the metal. The S. S. Steam Reliant hit violently against the pirate ship.
“Oh, Fyora,” Birkin heard a pirate holler from the pirate ship.
“Everyone to ye positions, it be a lava monster!”
Jumping to his feet, Birkin raced for the helm, his boots clanking against the grated metal of the stairs once more. In the pilothouse, Birkin’s first mate stood at the wheel, jerking the S. S. Steam Reliant this way and that to counter the lava waves licked at the sides of the steamship
Birkin ran to the communicator, screaming, “All hands on deck and full speed ahead.”
The S. S. Steam Reliant roared to life as it made its pursuit. Birkin had assumed the pirate ship would be preoccupied with the lava monster, but he was gravely mistaken. Just as he began to clear the smog, a cannon ball hit the rear of the S. S. Steam Reliant. Birkin turned in the pilothouse, looking out the rear windows as smoke billowed into the tunnel from the damage. Behind the smoke was the pirate ship, gaining on the S. S. Steam Reliant with the speed of a Shenkuu airship.
Birkin turned back to the communicator. “Captain Birkin to engineers, what’s the damage? Did they hit our engines?”
“No sir,” Birkin heard to great relief. “They missed our engines but we do have a heft hole in the ship, sir.”
“Try your best to get that patched and get us out of here. Birkin to deck hands, aim all fire at rear. Slow down that pirate ship.”
As soon as Birkin placed the communicator on its handle, cannon shots fired from the S. S. Steam Reliant. The first three missed, barely skimming the sides of the pirate ship but the fourth cannon ball hit dead on. The pirate ship wobbled in the lava as waves of the magma washed up against the pirate ship. This provided enough of a delay for the lava monster to catch up. It wrapped its arm around the end of the pirate ship, dragging it back into battle.
Birkin escaped not only the pirates that day, but also a lava monster. Upon his return to Moltara the mayor promoted him to the rank of Commodore, providing him and his crew special commission to continue sailing the lava tunnels to mine metal ore for Moltara.
***
You stare at Igneot. Sure, his story was fascinating. Sure, Commodore Rigney Birkin had an adventure you yet to have. Igneot could not know this, however. You would not allow him the satisfaction of knowing he was right, of knowing that he know everything!
Standing from the table you glare at Igneot, “that was a waste of my time,” you spit at him. “I have had adventures better than Birkin.”
Igneot smiled at you, “of course, young one.” His smile irritated you, so you storm from his hut with such fury that you knocked into a large red Kougra, his fur a dark, burnt orange, with a moustache on his face that traced up to his ears in fluffy white hair.
“My apologies,” the Kougra said, offering you a paw as he helped you to your feet. You look upon the Kougra. Fascination and excitement swirl in your stomach like lava flowing down the Moltara tunnels. In front of you stood Commodore Rigney Birkin, your newest hero and idol.
“Traveller,” you heard him holler in your direction, “Do you care to have all your questions answered?”
You looked at the Gnorbu. He seemed friendly enough, a smile stretching across his face to reveal fire-red teeth. You shrug your shoulders as you walked into the small hut and sat down across from the Gnorbu.
As he shakes your hand, he says, “My name is Igneot and I am a mystic who knows all.”
“Ya, right,” you scoffed, starring at the Gnorbu. “Nobody knows everything.”
Igneot raised his eyebrow at you. “Go ahead then, ask me any question.”
You thought for a moment, pondering the most absurd question he would not be able to answer. This mystic does not know you, you realized as you think through questions in your mind. A devious smile stretched across your face, your heart racing at the prospect of proving this mystic wrong.
“Name any other adventurer who has had better adventures than me,” you challenged the Gnorbu. He simply smiled at you. Irritation rose in the pit of your stomach at his grin.
“I know a man who sailed the lava tunnels of Moltara--” the Gnorbu began. “—and he had an adventure you have never had.”
***
“It was a position of honor in Moltara to be recognized by the title of Commodore. Many Neopians had acquired this title, but none were more deserving than Rigney Birkin.
Birkin had been just a small Kougra –a lad-- when he first set sail upon the S. S. Steam Reliant. He commanded his ship with discipline, but fairness. He motivated his sailors to work hard daily so that the pay was well earned.
It had been one day--while the S. S. Steam Reliant was transporting that week’s metal ore to Moltara-- the S. S. Steam Reliant came under attack. Rigney Birkin was sauntering through the steam engines, making sure that none overheated as it sailed over the lava on that hot day – hot even for Moltara’s standards. The gages read green and a healthy steam screamed from the metal holes, telling Birkin that all was good and that ship was running well.
“Incoming ship!” a sailor shouted into the horn—a communication device used throughout the large steam ship.
“Strange,” Rigney Birkin mumbled to himself as he ascended the metal steps, his boots stamping against each grate with a light clinking noise. As he walked upon the deck, the humid air assaulted his nose, increasing his difficulty to breath. Sweat began to drip through his fur. As he looked about the main deck he was addressed his first mate.
“The ship approaches quickly sir,” his first mate informed him. “We have attempted to make contact but to no avail, the ship does not reply.”
“Strange,” Rigney Birkin said yet again, only this time to his first mate, “What ship wouldn’t hail us in the lava tunnels? It is too easy for ships to ram one another in these tunnels, no matter how wide the tunnels are. The lava waves are hard to counter and makes the best of captains loose control of their steamships.”
“Perhaps it is an enemy,” Birkin’s first mate suggested.
“Perhaps,” Birkin agreed, “However, these tunnels are traversed only by Moltarians. What Moltarian would be an enemy to their own land?”
As the ship approached, Birkin’s anxiety grew. He paced along the main deck, his hands firmly clasped behind his back, debating what the ship could be. The ship grew closer to the S. S. Steam Reliant. The crew grew nervous as no flag was flown and no signal of hospitality was made. Birkin made his way into the pilothouse. The small red Wocky tilted his head in respect to the captain as Birkin gazed out the front window.
“Oh Fyora help us,” he whispered into the glass as he saw that upon the ship, pirates scuttled around ready to take the S. S. Steam Reliant as their captive. Birkin immediately moved into action.
“Prepare for battle,” he cried. “Do not let them steal the metal ore!”
Rigney Birkin’s crew ran about the main deck like sailors do when havoc approaches their ship. Above on deck, a Jubjub bounces around loading a cannon. Below deck a Shoyru shovels coal into the furnace, increasing the speed of the S. S. Steam Reliant. Birkin looked ahead to the pirate ship, a large metal steam ship, much like the S. S. Steam Reliant with tall stacks billowing black soot and smoke into the tunnel. Perhaps, Birkin thought to himself, if we fill the tunnel with smoke, we can slip by unnoticed. With haste, Birkin reached up to the radio horn.
“Captain Birkin to engineering, Captain Birkin to engineering, can you hear me?” he said into the communicator.
“Loud and clear Capt.,” a squeaky little voice said through the communicator.
“I want you to fill the engines with coal, make as much smoke as you can.”
“Aye-aye sir,” the voice said. “Exactly how much smoke, sir?”
“Enough to fill the tunnel with smog.”
***
The ship was now upon the S. S. Steam Reliant. Sailors tried muffling their coughs into cloths and handkerchiefs but the smoke in the tunnel was still to much. Many retreated inside the ship’s engine room or pilothouse. Rigney Birkin’s heart raced, thumping loudly against his orange chest fur. He ran a paw though his white mustache and up to his ear, sweat sticking underneath his claws. Birkin’s first mate approached.
“We seem to be under cover from the smog,” he reported. “Do you really think this is going to work?”
“I do not know,” Rigney Birkin replied. “Be prepared for anything and keep the sailors quiet.”
The smog was thick, but Birkin worried it was not thick enough. He could hear the engines of the pirate ship no more than fifty feet larboard. Bracing himself against the smoke shafts, Birkin strained his ears to listen. Across the tunnel he could hear the pirates, angry and shouting at one another.
“Ye can’t see a darn thing!”
“Open ye eyes ye chunk O’Korbat spit!”
“Whatcha be callin’ me?”
Birkin smirked to himself as the angry yelling passed by him. The S. S. Steam Reliant was nearly clear now--clear to sail back to Moltara smoothly, without any more trouble. Birkin began to walk back to the engine room to inform his crew that the tunnel was clear when something knocked up against the S. S. Steam Reliant throwing Birkin to the ground with a hard clank of his body against the metal. The S. S. Steam Reliant hit violently against the pirate ship.
“Oh, Fyora,” Birkin heard a pirate holler from the pirate ship.
“Everyone to ye positions, it be a lava monster!”
Jumping to his feet, Birkin raced for the helm, his boots clanking against the grated metal of the stairs once more. In the pilothouse, Birkin’s first mate stood at the wheel, jerking the S. S. Steam Reliant this way and that to counter the lava waves licked at the sides of the steamship
Birkin ran to the communicator, screaming, “All hands on deck and full speed ahead.”
The S. S. Steam Reliant roared to life as it made its pursuit. Birkin had assumed the pirate ship would be preoccupied with the lava monster, but he was gravely mistaken. Just as he began to clear the smog, a cannon ball hit the rear of the S. S. Steam Reliant. Birkin turned in the pilothouse, looking out the rear windows as smoke billowed into the tunnel from the damage. Behind the smoke was the pirate ship, gaining on the S. S. Steam Reliant with the speed of a Shenkuu airship.
Birkin turned back to the communicator. “Captain Birkin to engineers, what’s the damage? Did they hit our engines?”
“No sir,” Birkin heard to great relief. “They missed our engines but we do have a heft hole in the ship, sir.”
“Try your best to get that patched and get us out of here. Birkin to deck hands, aim all fire at rear. Slow down that pirate ship.”
As soon as Birkin placed the communicator on its handle, cannon shots fired from the S. S. Steam Reliant. The first three missed, barely skimming the sides of the pirate ship but the fourth cannon ball hit dead on. The pirate ship wobbled in the lava as waves of the magma washed up against the pirate ship. This provided enough of a delay for the lava monster to catch up. It wrapped its arm around the end of the pirate ship, dragging it back into battle.
Birkin escaped not only the pirates that day, but also a lava monster. Upon his return to Moltara the mayor promoted him to the rank of Commodore, providing him and his crew special commission to continue sailing the lava tunnels to mine metal ore for Moltara.
***
You stare at Igneot. Sure, his story was fascinating. Sure, Commodore Rigney Birkin had an adventure you yet to have. Igneot could not know this, however. You would not allow him the satisfaction of knowing he was right, of knowing that he know everything!
Standing from the table you glare at Igneot, “that was a waste of my time,” you spit at him. “I have had adventures better than Birkin.”
Igneot smiled at you, “of course, young one.” His smile irritated you, so you storm from his hut with such fury that you knocked into a large red Kougra, his fur a dark, burnt orange, with a moustache on his face that traced up to his ears in fluffy white hair.
“My apologies,” the Kougra said, offering you a paw as he helped you to your feet. You look upon the Kougra. Fascination and excitement swirl in your stomach like lava flowing down the Moltara tunnels. In front of you stood Commodore Rigney Birkin, your newest hero and idol.
I have had issues writing lately but your feedback made my story a thousand times better. I'm going to read through it to make sure I didn't write anything inconsistent and then submit it. Thank you again!