Uh... can join? I'll probably forget about this tomorrow but I wrote a thing for the thing. It's not proofread or w/e, just a bit of fun.
Someone was following him. A grimy pickpocket, or a spy for Emmaline, he wasn't sure. He pushed the thought from his mind, returning to the task at hand. Pirate Roberton was crossing the docks to buy himself a necklace. This would be no ordinary necklace, but a necklace that could shoot fireballs.
Not for any nefarious purpose, of course. The city hall dance was tonight, and those chandeleirs were so high up that you needed either a necklace of fireball-shooting, or a very large ladder. Pirate Roberton hated ladders. In fact, he had been walking carefully around an old stepladder when the dark figure had come upon him out of the corner of his eye, a blur of silver.
"A-ha!" he shouted, the cutlass following behind him. "I knew you were a knave from the start."
His opponent merely smirked, before coming in again with the blade. He sidestepped, finally gaining the sense to take out his own knife. The fabric of his dress was cut, and he almost tripped over a sandal. "You'll pay for this! I just had my outfit tailored!"
"You should have dressed for combat, not a cocktail party."
"Where do you think I'm going today? This hat isn't for show! Let me pass, before I teach you a lesson you don't want!"
Pirate Roberton's knife scored a hit across the ribs, several times at least, but the attacker showed no chance of slowing. He looked confused, getting some distance between them.
"You'll have to do better than that," said the knave, pulling back the fabric where the shirt had been cut. Underneath was a shine of metal - fine steel armour. What had been the price on his head to send this bastard after him?
Sword met knife, and as the blade edged towards Roberton's neck he pulled an ungentlemanly punch, right across the eye. The assassin shouted, swinging wildly. She quickly recovered and Pirate Roberton's almost lost his fingers as the dagger was struck from his hand. Another stroke, and the swirling pink feather of his feathered hat was cut to dust infront of him.
There was no more time for quips or jibes, and old pirate Roberts ducked and weaved under the blows, dodging like a circus acrobat before they were both at the edge of the pier.
"It's the end for you, old man." the assassin said, her gold teeth glinting in the sun as she spoke. Blood trickled down her eyebrow and she was out of breath. Without a final line, she brought her blade up to take off his head.
He ducked and reached forward, grabbing the back of her cloak. They spun off like two marionettes and crashed into the water.
That was the day that Pirate Roberton was grateful for his love of flowing dresses over a ringmail suit. He swam back to shore and drank a lot of wine, and the new lanterns they had to bring in ended up burning the whole city down.
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Topic: Story A Day Month (Read 4273 times)