PuckOfTheCarribean Chap 2Chapter Two: Snooping There was nothing quite like standing up in the crow's nest of a ship, feeling the vessel leap over the waves beneath you towards the harbor while the wind dramatically blew back every loose garment and strand of hair. The effect was generally ruined when you looked down only to discover that said boat was leaking. Leaking... quite seriously. Leaping down from his perch on the mast of the little dinghy, Jack splashed into water that was already well over his ankles and snatched up a bucket. "No, no, no," he muttered to himself as he bailed. He loved the ocean. He just didn't love having it in his boat. Oceans i
Puck of the Caribbean Chap OneChapter One: AssignmentMost pirates would consider the appearance of a blue-skinned, white-haired elf the better part of seven feet tall on their ship a rather startling thing. Many might even call it foreboding, if they managed to keep themselves from accidentally leaping overboard in panic.For Captain Jack Sparrow... this was actually within the realm of normal.The dusky-skinned pirate looked up at his visitor, apparently completely fogged with rum. "Well then!" he cried, staggering to his feet. "Look who we have here, all spiffied up. Going to some great fancy shindig, my Lord?"To his credit, the fae did not seem too taken aback by
Strange EventsFollows immediately after the events of MarkedPuck fled.Normally, Puck was not the fleeing type. As the only hobgoblin to stand with Oberon during the war that had split the Court in two, she'd fought hard and never retreated unless her Lord commanded it. The Puck's ferocity in battle was as legendary as her love of tricks and pranks.Now, though, she was running through Shadow, the place between places, her newly-branded arm cradled against her chest. She gasped at every movement that jarred the iron-caused injury and sent another stab of pain up her arm.Iron. The bane of every faerie's existence. The metal that mortals tore from the
Marked The Wicked Wench burned. On the deck of the Sentinel, there was nothing Captain Jack Sparrow could do. Already Beckett and his men had held him back from diving over the railing and swimming across the open water in a last-ditch attempt to save his beloved ship. Now two very burly sailors had their hands clamped down on his arms, forcing him to watch as the smell of woodsmoke, burning pitch, and gunpowder profaned the clean salt breeze. Jack's face twisted into a mask of fury as the Wench's powder magazine suddenly blew, spraying wood splinters a hundred feet in the air ahead of a mushrooming fireball. That was his ship out there, his fr
Sweetspring Part 1SweetspringA Tale of the Sun's ShadowPart I “And in thy name and thy service, Sunsword, I pray that you grant my allies with clear sight, so that even in the darkness of deep night they may be able to strike down those cursed beings that stalk by shadow, to cleanse the land of this plague which besets it. In thy name and service, Sahar-Sunsword, so mote it be.” The late afternoon sun seemed to shine a little more warmly on the clearing, gilding the armor of the men who broke down their camp so that for a moment each metal plate and ring and buckle seemed to be wrought of gold rather than steel. Alberich did not see this a
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