Post by Quinn O'Hara on Apr 4, 2015 4:28:41 GMT -5
Out on the coast of Doxenia, within the rocks that ran across the intercoastal, Quinn was tucked away within the mist. The night was cold and the sea breeze kissed his skin in such a way that it caused his skin to bump. To his right Shepherd sat near, however where Quinn's gaze was busy at sea, looking through a spy glass, his was fixed in the air where the shadow of a creature could be seen flying above the water. "At this rate I'll never find this damn boat," Quinn said annoyed.
Shepherd held up a hand as if telling Quinn to hush, something that was almost met in protest until he quickly took Quinn's spyglass. He looked up towards his flying companion and noticed it was circling left, he had taught it this maneuver whenever it had found something, and thus a smirk crossed his lips. The spyglass was brought down and there it was, the ship heading for shore. Shepherd tossed Quinn the spyglass once more and pointed out towards the direction he had been looking and Quinn saw it too. Both men nodded and Quinn made his way for a path that had been conveniently set to the right of their position, there he waited for Shepherd's signal.
Minutes went by and Shepherd as still as a statue. In one hand he held a leaf, a rare white leaf with a jagged pattern, at first sight you could have sworn in could cut you, but Shepherd was careful. Another minute slipped by and Shepherd's other hand rose giving Quinn the signal and Quinn set off running towards the water yet he had something else in his a hand, a pole? His feet were light, his speed was quick, it took seconds for him to pass Shepherd and as soon as he near the water he gave the pole a twist and released a darkened cloth, it was a glider. With it held above him he yelled "now!" Shepherd replied by raising the left to his lips and with a soft blow the pollen swept off the surface and caused a wave of wind to sweep towards Quinn's direction. With the newly formed gust came a tide of sand but by the time it reached Quinn he was already midair, the gust lifting the glider into the air and he began to fly out towards Shepherd's companion's position.
It didn't take long for him to reach the raven that circled above the ship known as the Black Shadow. Landing on the ship itself would be dangerous and remaining in the air would only work for so long before he was spotted. He held position for a moment, taking a breath and preparing himself for his decent. He knew what his mission was, as he continued to fall his gaze began to watch those that wandered the deck, he counted three. His gaze shifted,and as the water neared he tucked his body close to himself and then planked out vertically hitting the water as silent as one could.
The water was cold, but it didn't seem to bother Quinn at all, his training had put him in worse conditions than this. He rose until he reached the side of the boat and with a rope and hook he began to ascend into one of the canon hatches. He took a peek inside and noticed the path was empty, of course it was, he thought, they weren't in battle and were heading for shore. A silent sigh broke from from his lips as he slipped through the hatch and made his way inside. His steps were soft and quiet. Any shadow he could find, he embraced and he began to make his way around the ship.
The ship seemed fairly new considering everything, the boards were a near black and there was little ware and tear, he didn't even see any leaks. He headed to the lowest deck first, his body sliding with the shadows as he passed one, two, three guards, all that seemed unaware of his presence. He assumed they were there protecting cargo but as he continued to venture further inside he noticed a room that had been sealed tight. He got close enough to hear that there was some sort of mechanism inside but it was to dangerous for him to pick the lock that held the door secure. He remained there for awhile, his eyes trained on the guards, he wanted to see if they went on patrol but after a half hour went by and they remained still he tossed away the idea and ventured on.
The floor above was the living quarters, some were given room while others slept in hammocks in a larger room. Truthfully, Quinn was having a hard time deciding if this were a pirate ship or a ship of the militia, or worse, the militia pretending to be pirates. The very idea seemed to irritate him. He took a head count, five were in their hammocks, and four rooms, all in which he could assume were occupied with at least one occupant. He continued further, approaching the kitchen, the morning stew alerting him that dawn was quickly approaching and his time was running out, yet it cooked on its own, no doubt the cook had passed out, but where? He didn't linger on the thought for very long, he grabbed a few bottles of booze, figuring they would come in handy in case he needed a quick out and then moved towards the stew and didn't hesitate. He dropped an herb within the pot, knowing that as it cooked with the stew it would alter it's contents, not by smell or look, but as soon as it touched the tongue it would make the person sick, more than likely why they called the herb greenrot.
The job seemed to go fairly easy as he cleared the two floors and made his way back into the armory where the canons were set in place. There was little he could do to the canons without causing a mishap later on, and considering Vixen's intentions for the ship he decided to leave them as is. Their firearms on the other hand... He began to make some tinkers, remembering how Shepherd had taught him to make the gun backfire, at least it would be one less thing they would have to worry about when the time came to taking the ship. As he continued to booby-trap the pirates equipment he heard a noise from behind him, a click of a pistol, Quinn didn't hold, he snapped around and snuck his finger behind the trigger preventing it from firing and jabbed his fingers into the assailants neck before disarming him. As the man began to choke, Quinn reached for his pouch and from it took out a rag and a vial of some blue liquid, a mix of chloroform and amnesia dust. "I admire the fact that you got the sneak on me, consider yourself lucky I'm not killing you." His words were spat with annoyance yet unlike his last mission, killing wasn't an option. He held the man still and allowed him to breathe in the substance, the fumes rushing to his brain and taking root, he wouldn't remember the last few hours. To cover his tracks Quinn took one more precaution, and freed one of the bottles from his pack. There he spilled some of it and placed the rest of the bottle in the man's hand, some of the contents were smeared around his lips and thus it served two purposes, making it look like he took the bottles and that when he came to, that he was a drunk. The ship's crew would deal with him and now only one floor remained, the deck.
The deck still had the three patrolling, not like guards, but like simple men who had been ordered to be stationed there. They laughed and seemed more intrigued with themselves than their surroundings, much different than the three that were stationed on the lowest floor. He continued to watch them for a while longer, nothing changed. However above from the crows-nest a man called out, they were approaching land no doubt and Quinn took a peek while remaining low. He remained there in awe as he looked at the hidden cove, a cave in the water. It was like one of those story book tales his mother read to him as a child. As they neared, Quinn spotted only a few workers, four at most, however his count was disrupted as the Captain came barging out of his quarters with a woman who was barely holding up her clothes. She ran for the stairs like a bat out of hell and it then dawned on Quinn that she was most likely the cook, he'd seen it all.
The Captain was a large, bald man with nothing but a black beard that seemed fairly well kept. The man was barely dressed himself, a pair of trousers and not much else. Had Quinn not seen him barge from his quarters or seen him command the ship the way he did, Quinn would have simply thought he was a member of the ship and nothing more. People began to gather on the deck preparing to dock and Quinn decided this was a good place to get off, that many eyes would surely catch him. He rolled off the side and slipped through the water like a ghost. As the boat continued its course Quinn headed in the other direction, gliding under the waters surface, he had to get back to Vixen and report his findings.
The floor above was the living quarters, some were given room while others slept in hammocks in a larger room. Truthfully, Quinn was having a hard time deciding if this were a pirate ship or a ship of the militia, or worse, the militia pretending to be pirates. The very idea seemed to irritate him. He took a head count, five were in their hammocks, and four rooms, all in which he could assume were occupied with at least one occupant. He continued further, approaching the kitchen, the morning stew alerting him that dawn was quickly approaching and his time was running out, yet it cooked on its own, no doubt the cook had passed out, but where? He didn't linger on the thought for very long, he grabbed a few bottles of booze, figuring they would come in handy in case he needed a quick out and then moved towards the stew and didn't hesitate. He dropped an herb within the pot, knowing that as it cooked with the stew it would alter it's contents, not by smell or look, but as soon as it touched the tongue it would make the person sick, more than likely why they called the herb greenrot.
The job seemed to go fairly easy as he cleared the two floors and made his way back into the armory where the canons were set in place. There was little he could do to the canons without causing a mishap later on, and considering Vixen's intentions for the ship he decided to leave them as is. Their firearms on the other hand... He began to make some tinkers, remembering how Shepherd had taught him to make the gun backfire, at least it would be one less thing they would have to worry about when the time came to taking the ship. As he continued to booby-trap the pirates equipment he heard a noise from behind him, a click of a pistol, Quinn didn't hold, he snapped around and snuck his finger behind the trigger preventing it from firing and jabbed his fingers into the assailants neck before disarming him. As the man began to choke, Quinn reached for his pouch and from it took out a rag and a vial of some blue liquid, a mix of chloroform and amnesia dust. "I admire the fact that you got the sneak on me, consider yourself lucky I'm not killing you." His words were spat with annoyance yet unlike his last mission, killing wasn't an option. He held the man still and allowed him to breathe in the substance, the fumes rushing to his brain and taking root, he wouldn't remember the last few hours. To cover his tracks Quinn took one more precaution, and freed one of the bottles from his pack. There he spilled some of it and placed the rest of the bottle in the man's hand, some of the contents were smeared around his lips and thus it served two purposes, making it look like he took the bottles and that when he came to, that he was a drunk. The ship's crew would deal with him and now only one floor remained, the deck.
The deck still had the three patrolling, not like guards, but like simple men who had been ordered to be stationed there. They laughed and seemed more intrigued with themselves than their surroundings, much different than the three that were stationed on the lowest floor. He continued to watch them for a while longer, nothing changed. However above from the crows-nest a man called out, they were approaching land no doubt and Quinn took a peek while remaining low. He remained there in awe as he looked at the hidden cove, a cave in the water. It was like one of those story book tales his mother read to him as a child. As they neared, Quinn spotted only a few workers, four at most, however his count was disrupted as the Captain came barging out of his quarters with a woman who was barely holding up her clothes. She ran for the stairs like a bat out of hell and it then dawned on Quinn that she was most likely the cook, he'd seen it all.
The Captain was a large, bald man with nothing but a black beard that seemed fairly well kept. The man was barely dressed himself, a pair of trousers and not much else. Had Quinn not seen him barge from his quarters or seen him command the ship the way he did, Quinn would have simply thought he was a member of the ship and nothing more. People began to gather on the deck preparing to dock and Quinn decided this was a good place to get off, that many eyes would surely catch him. He rolled off the side and slipped through the water like a ghost. As the boat continued its course Quinn headed in the other direction, gliding under the waters surface, he had to get back to Vixen and report his findings.