|Thread: Temptation & Righteousness - OOC|
Fan of Red Sox
posted May 25, 2004 04:29 AM
Temptation & Righteousness - OOC
Okay just post all off-topic comments in here. I'd like to keep the main thread clean. Thank you. Those who have posted in the main thread already, please move your comments in here if you wish to keep them.
Temptation & Righteousness
I'd love to hear some feedback.
What things could be improved? Maybe something wasn't worded well, maybe too wordy, etc.
I have a couple of questions that I want to ask, because I really want to make sure I get something specific out of this story.
As a reader...
What are your overall thoughts on Edwin?
Do you like Edwin?
Do you admire Edwin?
Any first impressions?
Go Red Sox!
posted July 24, 2004 10:24 PM
What are your overall thoughts on Edwin?
Well, from my opinion, I would say that he is a very clever rouge, and to me, as you know, I think of him almost like Garrett.
Do you like Edwin?
Ofcourse! He is the "hero" afterall, and because of my nature, I like him even more!
Do you admire Edwin?
Well, he is living his own life, not following the laws, just doing whatever he feels to do. That, I admire. On the other hand, the risk on being caught constalty is not an admirable thing.
Any first impressions?
Keep on like this, and you'll recive a Qp
Fan of Red Sox
posted July 24, 2004 10:58 PM
This is the first draft of the story. I will be editing this and inserting it into the story as I make artwork for the different scenes.
Chapter 1: A Master of His Craft
Edwin: “Barking… why did I never consider the dogs?”
The rogue stuffs another scroll into his pack and heads for the window. He stops short to examine a gauntlet. It looks fairly crude and worthless, but nothing is too cheap for Edwin to steal. He does it for the thrill… and the money of course. He stuffs the gauntlet into his pack and slips out the window jumping into the adjacent tree and acrobatically hoping down several branches eventually landing on the ground squarely. The dogs have found him, but he makes quick work of them, cutting their throats as they leapt at him, their drool splattering on his feet as their limp bodies hit the ground. This guy was good; he was one of the best. You would think he was a swashbuckler, but he was far too proficient in deception and backstabbing. You might even call him an assassin as well.
For those that are unfamiliar with such terms, a swashbuckler is a common term for a pirate. These rogues are very proficient with the sword, so proficient that they could easily defeat the most seasoned fighters. However, unlike most rogues, they are ineffective assassins. Most seasoned rogues are able to kill their foes with a single blow to the back without their victims ever knowing of their presence.
Edwin takes a look around the estate and sees nothing, not a trace of trouble. He arrogantly walks off the estate and hops the fence only to find himself at the point of numerous arrows. He was surrounded by the authorities. Edwin also had a head on his shoulders, an arrogant one, but nonetheless a good one. He knew that any sudden move would be the end of him. He slowly raised his hands and allowed the authorities to de-arm him.
A man in heavy armor steps forward giving orders.
Knight: “Make sure you get every weapon, every piece of metal off his body. Strip him down to nothing if necessary. This man is extremely dangerous and can pick just about any lock with practically nothing. Oh and make sure you take care of the stolen goods. The usual procedure.”
The guards were no less greedy than Edwin, just a bit more tactful. The guards took everything, all his booty from his recent larceny on the estate, all his possessions, even the clothing off his back. Edwin was at least spared a few rags to keep from being a visual obscenity. Edwin heard their conversations as he was stripped down to nothing. They would return a couple of possessions to the owners of the estate to keep them quiet, but they would proclaim that Edwin had hidden the rest of his plunder at an unknown location and would be given a bit of mercy if he was to confess where he had hidden the loot, very well knowing that he had hidden nothing. And even if he was to confess, in so many words, their “mercy” would simply be a quick and painless execution. Edwin knew he must find a way out of this mess. But he remained calm as he was thrown into the back of a carriage, chained up at the wrists and ankles. He was being taken to the stocks.
However, the rogue still had a few tricks left. He jolted around inside the carriage as hard as he could, stomping, kicking, screaming, anything he could do to prompt one of the guards to come into the compartment and personally restrain him. He got what he wished. One of the guards came into the carriage and pummeled him, but Edwin was pretty tough. He pretended to be helpless and the guard was more than satisfied after merely a few kicks to the gut and punches to the face.
Guard: “You pathetic piece of ****! Can’t even take a beating like a man? And they call you dangerous. HA!”
The guard gave a sneer at Edwin, before he locked the door back up. Then came the second part of his plan. As the carriage takes off, Edwin bends over as far as he could. He reaches his hands above his head and searched through his hair until coming across his most beloved treasure, a thin piece of metal, his favorite lock pick. Within seconds Edwin was completely freed, yet he kept the shackles deceptively around his ligaments as though he had done nothing. The rogue would make noise once more. It wouldn’t take much to get the guard to come out again. Not but a single insult and a stomp before the carriage came to an abrupt halt.
Guard: “So you think you’re a wise guy, do you?”
Edwin remains silent. The guard opens the door with a glare of rage on his face; and Edwin remains motionless, waiting for the right moment. The guard steps inside and closes the door. With all the willpower to hold in his excitement, Edwin stays seated and drops his head. This was more than just a chance to Edwin. This was going to be easy.
The guard takes a swing at Edwin’s head missing as his target ducks out of the way. Edwin begins his counterattack. He quickly rises from his seat head butting the guard knocking him out cold. He exchanges clothes with the guard as quickly as he can while bumping around making grunt noises. He exits the wagon and sees several guards standing around smiling at him.
Guard: “So has he learned his lesson this time?”
The guards don’t notice anything unusual on such a dark, overcast night… soon enough that is. Before they could unsheathe their swords and draw their bows and arrows, Edwin had already made quick work of several, targeting the marksmen first. The swordsmen were not even a warm-up for Edwin and fell quickly ending the slaughter, a term which would be putting it nicely. Now that Edwin had “taken care of his minor nuisances,” as he liked to call it, he took back his stolen goods, changed back into his clothes and headed for the docks to cash in on his night’s work and head for his favorite tavern to boast in front of the other usual customers. It was a popular hangout for merchants and adventurers especially swashbucklers who would often call themselves a little bit of both. However, Edwin had forgotten about the guard in the wagon who would soon regain consciousness and who would be looking for him… personally.
Chapter 2: His Favorite Tavern
Edwin looked up at The Sailor’s Cantina and smiled. It was his favorite hangout. The tavern/inn was a mansion. It used to be owned by the richest family in town, but for the past dozen years or so it has been owned by Cecil Morgan, the head of the second most powerful Thieves Guild in the city known as The Violent Pacifists. Cecil always had a sense of humor and was just different than most rogues. If there was anyone in the business you could admire or like, he was the guy.
Now I did say the Violent Pacifists were the second most powerful thieves’ guild. Their rivals, The Other Tax Collectors, were the most powerful Thieves’ Guild in the town. They controlled parts of the town military and a few of their top officers. This has put them only slightly ahead, which otherwise would be completely dominated by The Violent Pacifists. The man running the Other Tax Collectors is Jacob Allen. No one likes this guy, but he always seems to get away with everything. Take for example the name of his guild, the Other Tax Collectors. It was originally a nickname of the Violent Pacifists, which he decided to proclaim as his own.
But such a complex system of corruption will be saved for explaining on another occasion. All that needs to be known for now is how Edwin ties into this guild. Edwin is perhaps the only Rogue you will ever meet that left a thieves' guild and is on good terms with his former associates.
Why might you ask? Well perhaps you should learn how a thieves’ guild operates after all. Most of you likely already know all there is to know about thieves’ guilds from other stories, but it’s pretty simple. It’s like a pyramid. Each associate takes orders from their superiors and gives orders to their subordinates. All members must carry out their orders successfully. The price for failure is very costly. It will lead to demotions. Most often the failures or the unsuccessful rogues are demoted to a status of what thieves call RODAVs. This stands for Relieved of Duty and Vitality. Thieves always have a way of putting the most abrupt, bold, standout things in the subtlest of ways. They take pride in their wittiness and always crack a smile whenever someone mentions the word RODAV. Yet it is this humor that allows them to hide their fear as well as repress their desensitized hearts over such matters.
So one can see why rogues never leave their guild. Such an act would lead immediately to the most serious of demotions. But how could Edwin leave and remain on good terms? Well he didn’t leave on good terms. In fact the Violent Pacifists tried to demote him several times only to see Edwin escape or see their best bounty hunters slaughtered. Edwin was too talented of a rogue to be demoted. And after a month or two the VPs, the nickname for the Violent Pacifists, had lost tremendous military strength. It was at this time, Jacob Allen came into power. He took the distraction as an opportunity to take over the business and ever since that time, the Collectors have been the most powerful guild in the city right up to their current status. Cecil saw his guild spiraling into what could have been its ultimate downfall. Like I said earlier, he is different from most rogues. He may have been prideful and arrogant, however he was wise enough to realize that swallowing his pride and ending the feud with Edwin was necessary for the guild's ultimate survival. That is where he succeeded where any other rogue would have failed. However offering a straightforward truce among thieves was not something that was done. Any halfwit rogue would smell trouble right off. But Cecil Morgan was an anomaly. He knew exactly how to end the fiasco with Edwin and offer a truce in such a fashion that would only make himself look like a genius.
He knew that the truce must involve some sort of trustworthy action in order for it to be taken seriously at all. Cecil also knew Edwin quite well. They were good friends. But both of them knew that in their business, business always came first. Cecil knew that Edwin was leaving for that very reason. He knew that Edwin loved the thieving, the sneaking, and sometimes even the killing when it was someone he didn't like. But he didn’t want to be controlled by the business, the business that forced Cecil to send out bounties after his close friend. Yes... the business forced Edwin into killing who he thought were good, innocent people. But most importantly, the final straw was when the business killed Edwin's family. Cecil knew that Edwin wasn’t going to join The Collectors and based his plans completely around that fact. Counting on the fact that Edwin had not joined The Collectors, Cecil instigated a fight between Edwin and a lesser experienced thief of The Collectors. He knew Edwin would make quick work of the man as well as the bounties who would be out for revenge.
Cecil let the pot stir for a week or so and sent a messenger to the Collectors. The gist of the message was simple. Edwin was more than “a minor nuisance” to both guilds and should be dealt with accordingly. They "wanted" to set a trap for him that he could not escape and could not win. Both guilds proved that any solo efforts to demote him were folly. The plan was to leave Edwin alone and allow him to get settled and comfortable. He eventually found his way to visiting a small hole-in-the-wall pub near the government district quite frequently. Cecil told them to plan an attack as Edwin exited the pub. However Cecil had no intentions of following through with his plan. On the night of the big trap, he sent one of his new recruits, an unfamiliar face, into the pub. Cecil didn’t really care if Edwin knew who the man was, but rather that The Collectors didn’t recognize him. The messenger informed Edwin of the death trap that awaited him outside. He also told him that Cecil had been rooting for him every time he sent out a bounty after him. Edwin smiled when he heard this and remained silent. Finally he said that Cecil no longer wanted to continue with their “business competition” and that his guild was planning on backstabbing the Collectors just as Edwin left the building. If he wished to be on good terms with The Violent Pacifists, then he should join in the slaughter of the Collectors. Good terms did not obligate him to any future dealings with “the business” in any manner. You can guess how it went. At a time when the Collectors were on the verge of completely taking over the town, the VPs evened the score and since that day has been a close second. The Collectors have hated Edwin all the more ever since.
Edwin had put himself into the common lore among thieves... at least the local ones. He even had a figure of speech named after him. Rogues that are not affiliated with any guilds are often called "edwins."
Edwin stepped into the bar. He was a well-liked and well-known man in the Sailor’s Cantina. The bartender called out his name immediately as he walked in, a female voice…
Bartender: “It’s about time, Edwin.”
Edwin: “Victoria! Good to see you.”
Victoria: “I’ve been waiting for you and so has this pint of ale. Get over here. It’s piss-warm just how you like it.”
The two of them laugh at their inside joke and gaze into each others eyes as Edwin takes a seat at the bar, his usual spot.
A tall, lanky man with a clean-shaven face discreetly comes out from one of the back doors and approaches the bar. He is headed towards Edwin. Victoria sees the man creeping up behind Edwin and maintains her smile. The man pokes Edwin in the back with a stick nearly scaring him right out of his skin.
Cecil: “So the famous Edwin would have been killed, but it was only an old friend playing a joke. Ah, the power a beautiful woman can have. It’s amazing they don’t rule the world.”
Victoria: “We do run the world, you just don’t know it.”
Edwin: “Do we have to go over the same jokes every time?”
Cecil: “Only when you still jump out of your skin. Come here.”
Cecil opens his arms for a brotherly embrace. Edwin hasn’t paid a visit to the tavern in a few weeks, something that has been more and more frequent as of late. As the two release each other, Edwin cannot keep the smirk off his face.
Cecil: “What’s this about the same old jokes every time?”
Edwin tosses up Cecil’s coin pouch straight up in the air.
Edwin: “Still never carry money on you I see.”
Cecil: “Not when there are fools like you trying to pickpocket the master of a thieves’ guild.”
Edwin: “So did I earn any brownie points?”
Cecil has always carried around a coin pouch with rocks in it, something that is well known amongst the local rogues. Ambitious rogues will try to pickpocket it off him. Those who are successful earn brownie points. Although most of the time, he will always jokingly say that he felt something or knew it all along, just to get them going. Even if he does feel something, Cecil will be more impressed with the ambition and courage rather than their skill. Edwin has been pulling the same prank for the past ten years, just as Cecil has been doing his prank for the last seven or eight.
Cecil shakes head and laughs.
Edwin: “Hey I needed to make up for getting caught off my guard earlier, get back in your good graces.”
They really didn’t have much to say to each other, other than the usual ritual they just began. They were just glad to see each other again. Cecil went behind the bar and pored a tall glass of Dark Rogue Ale. It was the very drink that made this tavern popular among rogues. It was one of the strongest, smoothest ales you’ll ever find. It went down real easy and got you good and drunk quick. That’s why the rogues loved it. The name helped too.
Edwin: “Now for the real reason I came here, a tall glass of Rogue Ale. Who cares about meeting old friends when you can drink the best damn ale ever? That’s the only friend you’ll ever need.”
More of the same routine jokes, however Victoria couldn’t keep herself out of the ritual.
Victoria: “And I suppose your ale is also better than old romances. Am I not as good as that ale as well?”
Edwin: “Beer and women are both completely different. They are both better than old friends. They work very well together I might add.”
Victoria: "How can you be so sure of that?"
Edwin: "I just know."
Victoria fills a glass of ale from a freshly tapped keg. She does it purposefully quickly creating a giant head of foam. Edwin takes the tall glass and takes a drink.
Edwin: "This ale is all foam. You didn't pour it right."
Victoria: "So then I guess ale and women don't always go well together."
Edwin: "No ale and women go well together whereas women and foam don't go together well at all."
Victoria: "Then I will get you another pint of ale."
Edwin smiled a big grin. Victoria took his glass of foam and threw the ale, and foam, onto Edwin.
Victoria: "Your right. Foam and women don't go well together."
This was certainly something not part of the routine these old friends go through during their reunions. Edwin stood up from his bar stool shocked, mouth wide open gaping at the mess that spread from himself down to the floor beneath him. He raised his eyes to look at Victoria and saw a face full of laughter.
Victoria: "I'm sorry. I couldn't resist."
Edwin: "Don't fill me full of lies. You aren't sorry at all."
Victoria burst out laughing again. She could barely speak gasping for air.
Victoria: "You're right. I'm not sorry."
Edwin stares at Victoria with a devilish grin for a moment and runs around to the other side of the bar. Victoria screeches out in excitement and runs out into one of the backrooms. In a matter of second. Edwin is holding a completely filled pint of ale chasing her around the room dodging tables. Cecil enters the room, yelling at them trying to sound as stern as possible holding back laughter himself.
Cecil: "Hey don't go making a mess of the place. No more throwing ale."
Edwin puts down the pint of ale on the table and offers his hand out to Victoria.
Victoria hesitates seeing Edwin's devilish smile once more.
Edwin: "What? I'm not going to do anything."
She takes his hand accepting the truce and heads back out to main hall. Edwin picks up his pint and follows her closely behind. Victoria keeps a close eye on him making sure that he isn't going to throw his pint of ale on her while her back is turned. Edwin, being the tease that he is, jerks his arm threatening to empty his pint of ale. Victoria lets out another yelp and scurries off lengthening their distance to a safe range.
Edwin takes his usual seat at the bar, this time next to a rugged looking man. Victoria returns to her bartending and asks the man sitting next to Edwin who presumably had taken his seat while Edwin and Victoria were enjoying their childish games.
Victoria: “Good Evening. What’ll it be?”
Man: “What would you recommend?”
Edwin: “Dark Rogue Ale of course. A bit expensive, but nonetheless the best ale you’ll ever have.”
Man: “I’ll have… What is it called?”
Victoria: “Dark Rogue Ale.”
Man: “Yes, Dark Rogue Ale.”
The man holds out his hand.
Man: “Name’s Richard Folly.”
Edwin: “Edwin. Just Edwin.”
Richard: “Oh really? I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Edwin: “Yeah most people have.”
Edwin put on a big grin hearing those wonderful words. He loved his fame or rather infamy.
Richard: “You’re all wet. How did that happen?”
Richard let out a chuckle whence Edwin threw a devilish glance at Victoria.
Edwin: “Hmmm…. I don’t know. It just sort of…”
Edwin turned to look at Victoria once more.
Victoria laughed partially once again at her little prank partially out of fear that Edwin would soon raise the stakes with his practical jokes as he always did.
Richard: “You two seem to be pretty close now aren’t you? I take it you must be spending the night… eh?”
Edwin: “Yes. Why not spend the night?”
Victoria: “Sounds wonderful.”
Victoria hands Richard a large pint of ale who immediately takes a whiff of his prize.
Richard: “Smells wonderful. I love the smell of a good ale.”
Victoria: “Maybe next time I should add rose petals? What smells better than a woman?”
Richard: “No I think that would ruin its taste.”
Victoria: “Oh I was worried you bought the ale just so you could smell it.”
Richard: “We’ve got a wise one here. Don’t we?”
Richard drank his ale in matter of seconds, all in few massive gulps.
Richard: “That was a wonderful ale. What a great bite it has. Well I’d best be going. I’ll definitely come back again to have that again.”
Richard paid his tab giving a more then generous tip.
Richard: “Good Night, m’lady. Nice meeting you, as well as you Edwin.”
Victoria: “Thank you. Please come again.”
Richard: “I definitely will.”
Richard walked out of the bar confidently waving goodbye and nodding his head. He exited the Tavern and turned right down a dark alley.
Richard: “He’s inside and he’s going to stay the night.”
The guard gave him a silver coin.
Richard: “We agreed on a gold coin.”
Guard: “Too bad. It’s better than nothing.”
Richard left the alley grumbling.
Chapter 3: A Good Simple Man
The man had been deceived; he had been swindled by a no good guard. Richard had had enough. What he had thought was a good deed, helping the side of order and righteousness, was not as he had expected and Edwin the man who was supposed to be the outlaw the bad guy, had been as friendly as any man he had met. Whatever the case was, Richard decided that he could not trust that guard. For all he knew Edwin could be completely innocent, he seemed like a decent guy. Certainly nicer than that swindling, obnoxious guard.
Richard was halfway home when he had worked all of this out in his head. It had taken a while to clear his head of anger. Such thoughts only could have come to his simple mind when it was not clouded with anger.
Richard stopped dead in his tracks immediately turning around. It was approximately a ten minute walk back to the Sailor's Cantina, but Richard made it in just over five. However Richard did not arrive at his destination without adversities. Only just fifty or so yards from the entrance to the massive Tavern/Inn, a familar, stern voice stopped him in his tracks.
Guard: "And where might you be going?"
The guard pulled Richard down the same alley as that of their last meeting.
Richard stuttered and stammered over his words in fear
Richard: "I was going to get some more information out of Edwin to see if you might give me the money I so deserve."
If there was one thing to say about Richard, he was a pretty quick thinker when put into a tight situation, given that he isn't the brightest man you'll ever meet.
Guard: "What other information could possibly be useful? You've told me all I needed to know."
Richard: "Perhaps the room in which he is staying."
Guard: "And how what will I do with that? Walk in there and kill him? The entire place would have their eyes fixed upon me the minute I walk in there. One sudden move would be the end of me."
Richard: "Then lose the uniform."
Guard: "And wear what?"
Richard: "Wear nothing if you must."
Guard: "Wear nothing? Eyes would be fixed upon me in an instant."
Richard: "I think rather the opposite. There be no pirates in that Tavern on this eve. A few females might have their eyes on you, if they are bold enough to not cover their eyes."
Richard smiled at his little joke, but the guard simply maintained his impatient, condescending stare and the smile quickly faded from Richard. He was certainly baffled by the emotionless of this man. His buccaneer jokes always broke the ice, especially the cliche homosexual references.
Guard: "If you get me some appropriate clothes and in which room he is sleeping, then you have yourself a deal."
Richard: "Consider it done."
This was not how Richard had planned out any of this. He simply wanted to inform Edwin of what happened. Now he had gotten himself into some huge orchestration. He was upset at his bad luck as well as his poor judgement of the guard.
Richard left the alley grumbling.
Go Red Sox!
posted October 08, 2004 04:36 AM
OOC: Second Draft
Chapter 1: A Master of His Craft
“Barking… why did I never consider the dogs?” The rogue grumbled and stuffed another scroll into his pack. He took another look around the room, a crude misproportioned guantlet laid on the table.
"Ah! A wonderful piece for my collection." Edwin quickly seized the worthless booty and slipped out the window. He jumped into the adjacent tree and acrobatically hopped down several branches. The dogs found the crafty rogue just as he touched ground. Edwin remained calm and well-composed. He cut their throats as they lept at him, their drool and blood splattering on his feet as their limp bodies hit the ground. This guy was good; he was one of the best. You would think he was a swashbuckler, but he was far too proficient in deception and backstabbing. You might even call him an assassin as well.
For those that are unfamiliar with such terms, a swashbuckler is a common term for a pirate. These rogues are masters of the sword, so proficient that they could easily defeat the most seasoned fighters. However, unlike most, they are ineffective assassins. Most seasoned rogues are able to kill their foes with a single blow to the back without their victims ever knowing of their presence.
Edwin looked around the estate, not a single threat nor trace of trouble. He arrogantly walked to the edge the estate and climbed a vine covered stone wall. He jumped down and laughed at the pathetic resistance of this excursion. Taking his time, the rogue adjusted his load to a confortable fits and headed for the docks district to meet his friends. However after taking but a single step the points of numerous arrows revealed themselves. He was surrounded by the authorities. Any sudden move would be the end of him. He smirked ever so slightly and slowly raised his hands.
'If only you knew you were all gonna be dead in a few minutes,' thought Edwin. Several guards came over and slammed him against the wall ripping of his pack and various other sharp contents well-concealed around his waist, up his sleeves, in his boots and underneath his armor. After a thorough search the guards found a pack full of booty, some high quality leather armor, two katanas, and well over a dozen daggers.
Edwin had been stripped down to nothing and was given a few dirty rags to keep from being an obscenity. The rogue couldn't help but make a snide remark as they dragged him away.
"You sure you got all of them? Legend has it I can magically **** them out. You might want to be careful about that," said Edwin.
"A wise crack like that is gonna cost ya," snapped one of the guards, by far the biggest one of them all. A sharp punch to the gut and Edwin folded over weasing, gasping for breath. They throw his limp body into the carriage and slam the door shut locking him away. He sits up leaning against one of the walls and let out a yawn stretching his arms finding a comfortable position. He situated himself and sighed, rolling his eyes, shaking his head.
A voice looms from outside.
“Make sure you get every weapon, every piece of metal off his body. Strip him down to nothing if necessary. This man is extremely dangerous and can pick just about any lock with practically nothing. Oh and make sure you take care of the stolen goods. The usual procedure.”
The guards were no less greedy than Edwin, just a bit more tactful. They would return a couple of possessions to the owners of the estate to keep them quiet, but they would proclaim that Edwin had hidden the rest of his plunder at an unknown location and would be given a bit of mercy if he was to confess where he had hidden the loot, very well knowing that he had hidden nothing. And even if he was to confess, in so many words, their “mercy” would simply be a quick and painless execution. Edwin knew he must find a way out of this mess. But he remained calm as the door opened and several guards chained him up at the wrists and ankles.
"To the stocks," ordered the same looming voice. The rogue still had a few tricks left beginning his plan. He jolted around inside the carriage as hard as he could, stomping, kicking, screaming, anything he could do to prompt one of the guards to come into the compartment and personally restrain him. He got what he wished. One of the guards came into the carriage and pummeled him. Edwin pretended to be helpless playing up the same act as before and the guard was more than satisfied after merely a few kicks to the gut and punches to the face.
“You pathetic piece of ****," the guard said condescendingly as he spat tobacco juice from his chew onto Edwin's old rags. "Can’t even take a beating like a man? And they call you dangerous. HA!” The guard gave a sneer at Edwin, before he locked the door back up.
Edwin laughed to himself at the gullibility of the guard. He waited for the perfect time to initiate the second part of his plan. That time was at the moment the carriage took off again. He bent over as far as he could and reached above his head searching through his hair until coming across his most beloved treasure, a thin piece of metal, his favorite lock pick. Within seconds Edwin was completely freed, yet he kept the shackles deceptively around his ligaments as though they were still securely attached. The rogue would make noise once more. It wouldn’t take much to get the guard to come out again. Not but a single insult and a stomp before the carriage came to an abrupt halt.
“So you think you’re a wise guy, do you?” said the guard. Edwin laughed at the guard. 'Can't think of anything better to say, can you?' thought the rogue. He remained silent waiting for the guard to storm in like a fool. The guard opened the door with a glare of rage on his face. Edwin remained motionless, waiting for the right moment to act. The guard stepped inside and closed the door. With all the willpower to hold in his excitement, Edwin stays seated and drops his head. This was more than just a chance to Edwin. This was going to be easy.
posted February 07, 2005 08:39 PM
Your writing looks like my writing, except waaaay better. Good job!
Knowledge is power...