TheSeaHawk

Ok, so the action didn't really pick up in this one but I promise it will in the next episode. By the way, anyone reading these? Not sure if they're any good but I'm having a blast writing them so I'll keep going. If you've got comments or suggestions, especially suggestions, I'd love to hear them.

Thanks again! Oh, and Episode Four: On Wings of War should be up by later tonight!

Episode Three: The Mended Wing

The sounds of laughter echoed down the beach as an extremely bizarre looking trio made its way along the dunes. Two were women and the third appeared to be a man, despite the fact his entire body was covered in what appeared to be scales of rock. The shorter of the women, a strikingly beautiful brunette, was engaged in a cheerful conversation with the other as they walked down the beach. The man, or whatever he was, wasn’t paying much attention to the females and instead was picking up shells that caught his eye. He’d clearly been at this for some time now because his left hand was already clutching an odd assortment of broken bits.

It was night now and a calm had settled over everything, the violent storms of that morning having long since blown out to sea. In fact, had it not been for one of them tripping over him, the three walkers might never have noticed the drenched body that had washed ashore.

One of the girls giggled, “Not too sure on your feet there, Crag?”

“I didn’t fall, something tripped me. Hey what the…” Crag had laid a hand on the body, “Come here, I think it’s a person!”

“What?” Both of the women immediately came running over and dropped down to examine whatever it was.

“My god, it’s just a kid. What happened to him?” The taller of the two women had moved up to look at the boy’s face, and to check if he was still alive. Laying her fingers delicately on his neck she felt nothing but his cold, clammy skin.

“I don’t think he’s alive, whoever he is. Any idea who he was, Striga?”
The brunette laid both her hands on the boys back and slowly let her eyes close as if she was retreating into her mind. None of the three companions moved for a matter of minutes, all was completely still as the young woman tried to reach out to the boy. Eventually she slowly pulled her hands off and, after a prolonged silence, slowly opened her eyes and sighed deeply.

The two others spoke in unison “Well?”

Striga shook her head a bit, “Nothing except loneliness, loneliness and pain…,” suddenly she stopped speaking and gasped. The boy had moved.

“Like hell he’s dead! Boy? Boy?! Can you hear me?”

“Crag, calm down, you’ll terrify the poor thing.” The blonde woman laid a thin hand on the boys face and whispered to him “Sweetie can you hear me? Do you know where you are?”

His eye’s fluttered for a moment as if he was trying to awaken, fighting to come back, but just as quickly he was still again.

Striga turned to Crag, “Pick him up, let’s get him out of here quickly. He’s not dead yet but he will be soon enough. Come on.”

Lifting the boy into his arms Crag began to walk back towards the direction they had come, the other two followed close behind.



A few hours later the same group, save for the boy, was seated around a fireplace in a rather spacious and well decorated room. Striga and Crag were seated opposite each other with a small coffee table between them on which they were planning some manner of card game In the corner the blonde woman sat alone in a plush armchair, quietly sipping a small cup of tea and staring into the fire. Occasionally she would raise the cup to her lips so take a sip then would slowly lower it back down, as though she had interrupted herself with a new thought. Her tranquility was broken by a roaring cheer of victory from Crag, apparently he had won the card game.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you were hiding cards somewhere in those massive rock arms of yours,” Striga grinned widely and Crag only grunted a reply.

“As out cold as that boy is,” Crag said slowly, “He could probably win easily the way you play.

Striga chuckled slightly, “Speaking of which, has anyone checked on our house guest lately?”

“No need.”

Both Crag and Striga turned towards the corner chair, “What do you mean?” Striga asked.
“He’s awake.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because,” She motioned to the other side of the room, “He’s standing in the doorway.”

Striga snapped her neck around and gasped. Sure enough leaning against the wall was the very same boy they had found that afternoon now looking like little more than a walking corpse.

“Where am…What are you….” The boy tried to speak but couldn’t gather his breath, his eyes rolled back and he pitched forward onto the carpet in front of him. Crag and Striga were at the boy’s side immediately, slowly helping him to his feet and guiding him over to a large couch which dominated the room’s center.

Crag gently laid the boy down and chuckled at him “Think you’re Superman, lad? From the look of things you took one hell of a beating out there today. Can you tell us what happened? Do you remember?”

“I’m Thomas,” he spoke slowly through cracked and bloody lips, “I…I can’t remember anything. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright kid,” Crag smiled at Thomas, “You’ll be safe here.”

He didn’t know why but, for the first time in years, Thomas returned a smile.



Crag kept his promise and Thomas was allowed to stay. Months went by and he slowly began to recover his memory. The memory of that last horrible day at sea, however, had yet to come back to him. He learned a great deal about his benefactors as the days passed. They were Superheroes and called themselves the Righteous Trio, for years they had fought crime and other forms of corruption in Paragon City. Thomas remembered having read bits and pieces about them in Newspapers years before.

The house itself was massive and actually more of a mansion. Located on an empty road a good distance outside the city it was a very private place, allowing the Trio to train on the grounds and test their powers comfortably. Crag’s massive size, or strength, wouldn’t have worked too well in a Paragon City apartment. Thomas was given a small room in the northwest corner of the complex, it was easily five times the size of the closet he’d been force to live in at home.

In fact Thomas came to realize that he was truly happy.

Nowhere had people been so genuinely kind to him, so caring. All of them except the third member of the Trio. While Striga and Crag were always checking in on him and asking questions, she just stayed out of his way. When they did run into each other she would great him, but it was increasingly apparent to Thomas that this woman had an intense dislike for him. He never approached her, never tried to find out why, until one day he broached the subject to Crag.

“Hey Kid! What are you doin’ up this early?” Crag was doing his morning workout on the large lawn behind the mansion, heaving one massive bolder after another over his head then hurling them towards the woods.

“Just couldn’t sleep that’s all.”

“Nightmares again, kid? Like I’ve said a thousand times before: You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about here. Right?” Crag dropped the bolder he’d lifted and instead sat down on the ground next to Thomas. “Was it something else this time?”

“I’ve been thinking lately, and I think I’d like to know, why does…why does she hate me so much? You know, I mean…”His voice trailed off, he was very nervous about saying the wrong thing. Her feelings about Thomas aside she was Crags partner and Thomas certainly didn’t want to say something bad about her.

“It’s not you, Kid.” He sighed a bit, “Well nothing you’ve done anyway.”

“Then what is it, Crag? I don’t understand.”

Standing up slowly Crag kicked the boulder sending it bouncing along through the gardens.

“She’s scared of you.”

Thomas was stunned, he couldn’t think of anything to say. He just looked at Crag with a mix of confusion and disbelief.

“She senses the same thing in you we all do. She can tell you’ve changed.” Realizing he had said too much Crag turned and began to walk towards the mansion.

“What? What do you mean? I’m still the same. I haven’t change at all!”

Slowly Crag looked back over his shoulder, “Yes you have kid. You’ve changed. You’re like us now.”

Sorry this one's a bit longer, just kind of let it go on a bit. I promise the action really picks up in Episode Three: The Mended Wing

As always feedback is very, very welcome! Please let me know what you think

A Grand Voyage
Episode Two: Out With the Tide, In With the Hawk

As Thomas climbed over the side of the boat a few of the men afforded him a passing glance, most of them shared Patrick’s disdain for the young boy. Despite having been out on the boat more times than he could remember Thomas couldn’t recall having ever spoken to any of the men. Looking over their faces Thomas decided it was best to never attempt to start a conversation; Any friend of his Father was unlikely to ever warm up to Thomas. Trying his best to stay out of the way he made his way into the wheel-house, moving quietly so as to not attract any attention. He hoped if he could get inside his absence might go unnoticed at least until they put out to sea.

Thomas, however, had had never been very sure on his feet or lucky for that matter. A bit of coiled rope he failed to notice sent him tripping into a large bucket that just happened to be filled to the brim with fish guts. The ensuing crash not only sent the bucket’s unsavory contents all over the deck but brought the attention of every man on board directly to Thomas. For a few moments everything was absolutely still, Thomas dared not even move he just stood frozen above the gory mess. Then his Father’s eyes, which had been wide in a kind of shock, filled with rage and he stormed towards Thomas.

“You stupid little brat!” His father screamed spittle flying of his lips as he only yelled more loudly, “I ought to wring that scrawny, useless neck of yours!”

“Dad, I’m, I’m I’m…” Thomas stuttered, the speech impediment he’d had since a child only becoming more pronounced. He looked around desperately, hoping foolishly that perhaps someone from the crew would step in and save Thomas. Not a one of them even moved, instead they simply stood and watched the scene unfold not caring how helpless the young boy really was.

“Come ‘ere ya little worthless runt,” his Father made a grab for Thomas but he was already scurrying backwards, desperate to avoid letting his Father get a hold of him. His foot caught on a tangled pile of line and he collapsed backwards. The fall stunned him and it was all he could do to get his hands up to ward off the inevitable slap from his Father.

Suddenly someone moved in front of the elder James, blocking his way to Thomas.
“Come on Patrick, give the kid a break. It’s not that big a deal. The boys can have it cleaned up in a few minutes.” Thomas was stunned. He quite literally had no idea what to say. The newest member of his Dad’s crew, so new that Thomas didn’t even know his name yet, had actually protected him from his Father. Patrick James grumbled something and then walked off, without so much as a word to his son. The young man who had saved Thomas, whoever he was, turned and offered to help him up off the deck.

“You alright there kid?” The man smiled at Thomas as he pulled him up to his feet. “Might want to be a bit more careful around the deck, eh? Can’t have you sinking us before we get out of the harbor?” He chuckled a bit at himself before he turned and walked back over to help clean up the last bits of mess from the bucket.

Thomas knew he should have thanked the man, should have said something to express how truly much it meant that someone had stood up for him. He didn’t though. He just stood there with his feet rooted to the ground staring blankly at the workers. After a few moments he retreated back into the wheel-house and hid himself in the corner. Pulling out his book he opened to his favorite Chapter and let his mind wander.

After a few more minutes the small boat’s engine started and slowly the troller made its way out to sea. Thomas, however, was far too engrossed in his book to even notice.

When Thomas did at last emerge from his hiding spot the boat was already well out of the sight of land and a light rain had begun to fall. The sky, which had been a clear blue in the early morning, had now darkened considerably and showed that a storm was certainly on its way. Looking around slowly and trying to remain unnoticed Thomas could see that the men had been fishing for several hours at least and the nets over either side were nearly full.

Thomas’ Father looked up and noticed the boy, “ ‘bout time you get out here. Help the guys start pulling in the nets, will ya?” Thomas knew better than to think it was a request. Grabbing some well worn gloves of a shelf he went to work helping to haul in the line attached the port-side net. With thousands of tuna caught up in the net it was incredibly heavy though with six men all pulling on the line made it pretty easy to host up into the air. They certainly didn’t need Thomas help but it was better not to anger his Father. As soon as the net was all the way out of the water, complete with a massive amount of wriggling fish, the pole was swung around and the net was released down onto the deck. The various mutters from the men showed they approved of the catch and it was certainly the largest that Thomas could remember. The more fish they brought in the better mood his Father would be in, which meant he just might get off easy for one night.

“There we go boys!” His Father said with a rare grin, “Maybe today we’ll meet our quota!”

By now the rain had increased well beyond a drizzle and was beating down upon the boat, forcing a few of the men to grab buckets and haul the gathering water overboard. The others were keeping themselves busy by sorting the tuna into bins along the boat’s rail, otherwise they would start to flow overboard soon. Not knowing what else to do, and certainly not wanting to attract his Father’s attention, Thomas joined in and started to help fling the rising water over the side.

Suddenly lighting arced across the sky and the wind kicked up, the rain was lashing down onto the deck and Thomas was having trouble seeing the others through the downpour. Waves were not breaking over the rail and sending massive amounts of seawater spilling down onto the deck and into the small hold below. Sparing glance Thomas could see that the waves around the boat had become a good deal larger and they were begging to roll greatly from side to side. The water had begun to get high, too high, and the men were working furiously now so that the entire stern didn’t start to submerge.

“Come on! Faster! We’re gonna lose the whole damn catch!” Patrick James was yelling, trying to be heard over the roar of wind and rain but most of what he said was inaudible to the men. Another clap of thunder and lightning illuminated just how desperate their situation was about to become. The waves had grown massive and any moment if one hit the vessel at the right angle they could all go under. The poles which held the nets in place were being buckled by the sheer force of the wind. The port side net must have caught on something rather large on the ocean floor because the whole boat was listing heavily to that side. One of the men had already scurried up the mast above the wheel-house to cut the main line which held the port pole in place, if he didn’t one wave could take the keel and capsize the vessel.

He felt a strong hand grab onto his shoulder and spin him round, bringing him face to face with his father.

“Don’t just stand there and gawk! Get your scrawny worthless self up there and help him”

Thomas nodded, he turned and pulling himself up the ladder on the side of the wheel-house grabbed onto the mast to steady himself as a large wave rocked the whole boat. Looking up he could just barely see the man above him, desperately trying to detach the line which held the net-pole in place.

Then, suddenly, everything was in slow motion.

A massive wave rammed into their starboard side and Thomas watched in disbelief as every man, his Father included, was swept over the side. He tried to scream to the man atop the mast but just as he looked up a bolt of lightning popped the mast and the worker was thrown completely off his perch. As the man’s limp body fell towards the roaring sea Thomas glimpsed his face for just a moment.

It was the man who had helped him that morning and Thomas realized he had let him die. If he’d acted, if hadn’t hesitated, he could have helped him and they would both be safely back below.

But he hadn’t and a good man, a man who had been nothing but kind to him, had died just a feet away from him.

Another jolt brought him back to reality as the boat listed even more. He recognized that if he didn’t detach the line himself then he’d join everyone else. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and put his hand on the first rung, then the next, and slowly he began to climb upwards. The list of the boat meant he was having to climb at an obscene angle and the constant gusts of wind and heavy rain didn’t make it any easier. At last, after holding his breath for what seemed like hours, he had reached the top and finally let go a long sigh of relief. With rain constantly flowing through his eyes he began to try and work the line apart from its clamp on the mast, but he couldn’t budge it. He could feel tears running down his cheeks and he screamed out form frustration.

Then it happened. Time stopped and everything around him became a blur of white light. He felt like he was on fire, he couldn’t breath, and he was tumbling downwards.

He’d been struck by lightning and he knew it must have killed him.

An enveloping cold was a welcome relief.

Thanks alot Slipshod, I appreciate it. I read your Bio a while back and really enjoyed it.

And on another note Episode Two: Out With the Tide, In With the Hawk should be up by this evening! Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read.

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Just now noticed this thread, and thought...wouldn't it be easier if roleplayers put [roleplayer] in the start of their bio? That way we could at least randomly meet up and know what to expect.

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A lot of them do. Alternatively you can just look for a person with a very detailed Bio, that usually denotes a roleplayer.

The Origin of The Sea-Hawk

A Grand Voyage
Episode One: The Lone Hawk

Even for a 17 year old Thomas James was remarkably miserable. His father was not a peaceful man and the frequent bottles of scotch didn’t do much to help that. Thomas’ mother had left years ago, he barely could remember what she looked like he had been so young. All he could remember was a silhouette in the doorway walking out and not looking back.
Things had been horrible ever since that day and had only gotten worse for the past 10 years. Thomas had retreated into books but they offered little refuge from the anger of his Father, yet he would still spend nearly all his time locked away in his room reading. He must have read Beau Geste, Captain Blood, Black Arrow and countless others hundreds of times. But the one he read more than any other was The Sea-Hawk. He wished he could escape to the high seas, live the life of a pirate but still do good and protect those in need. Protect everyone from men like his Father.

Whenever he read anything he would always imagine himself as the hero and, often enough, his Father would become the villain in his imagination. A blustering, dark and vile man were all the evil doers of his imagination; And they all looked like his Father.

Thomas was often forced to accompany his Father when ever he went fishing, which was quite frequent as that was how the elder James made his living. There was nothing that Thomas hated more in the world than going out on the small fishing-troller; it was hard to hide from someone on a 25 foot boat.

This time it was a freezing November morning and one of Patrick James’ crew had called in sick which meant it was Thomas’ lucky day. He’d been reading nearly since he woke up that morning, running with Rob Roy across the Highlands on a spirited adventure. He smelled his Father coming long before he saw him, that reek of scotch on his clothes never truly faded. Then there it was, that massive frame taking up nearly all of the doorway and the large bloodshot eyes staring with disgust at the young boy.

The massive man coughed loudly then spoke slowly, “Parkins called in sick. You’re coming out with us today.”

Thomas opened his mouth to speak, to attempt an excuse, but quickly thought better of it. He had tried to argue in the past and his Father had never taken kind to it. Unless he was asked a question, which was seldom, Thomas almost never addressed his Father at all. The man didn’t say anything else, just turned around and stomped back down the hallway. Thomas knew he was expected to follow or there’d be trouble so he scampered after him as quickly as he could.

The car ride which followed the brief exchange in Thomas room was spent in silence and within a few minutes they had arrived at the docks. Even though it was early morning the small harbor was already bustling with activity as all the fisherman prepared to get a start on the day. One of the few things Thomas enjoyed about being forced into days like this were the sights and smells of all the ships and the ocean, though he was sure he would rather be just about anywhere else. With the sharp scent of the salty sea and the shouts of the Fisherman it could almost be like the start of an adventure, if he closed his eyes.
A slap to the back of the head from his father started him out of his daydream, “Go on, get on the boat. You better not slow us down at all.”

Thomas nodded a bit and followed his father down the wooden ramp down to the floating docks. He stared down at the planks, watching his feet, imagining himself walking towards his very own pirate ship that was set to sail out to sea on a grand voyage. In the end he knew that he wasn’t marching to anything more than a long, miserable day that he would spend entirely alone.

A day that would be far worse than he could possibly imagine.

(Feedback is very welcome and, obviously, more to follow shortly!))

As someone who plays a lot of MMOs I have to admit that I didn't even know this was in the works. Had it even entered development yet, or was it still in the design phase?

Well having played on a few other servers before coming to Virtue I can say without a doubt it is certainly the most RP active. So having said that, I don't think you can really go wrong by moving here

Well done, man. You certainly started off on the right foot I think. My first character that I RPed quite a few years ago was a alcoholic Dwarf Pirate, so there is something to be said for creating a slightly over-the-top quirky character. As you play him, as strange and out there as it may seem at first, you will gradually add depth to him--It certainly doesn't have to be all at once. I've found one of the best parts about RPing is getting to know my character as it grows and evolves, even from a silly and simple first step.
Anyway, good job bud. Just like any other time you really have to put yourself out there Roleplaying takes some guts. You've got the hardest part out of the way, now have fun!

Well I changed my forum name to that of my main character, in case anyone was confused an/or cares.
Oh and no relation Rick Laird, heh, The Laird is a reference to an ancient Scottish title which trasnlates roughly as Lord. One of these days I'll get around to posting his origin story and it will make alot more sense.

I've been around Roleplaying in online games for a while now but I have to say, on my first night after switching to Virtue, I have never been so quickly impressed by a community. I walked into Atlas park and immediatley encounterd a large group of RPers just standing around and chatting. I found myself joining right in with the conversations and was made to feel very welcome by all that were present. I know I probably just happened to log in at a good time, but as I hopped around a few other zones I would almost always run across another roleplayer. While I did admitedly find far more powergamers (not that I have anything against that playtype) but it was great to just occasionaly run into some in character.

Nearly every person I encountered had a creative character that stood out and impressed me. Killer Whale really stood out for obvious reasons, one of the few really funny characters I came across, but I was glad to see someone else played a character with an accent. Two others that I really enjoyed listening to and watching were Lion Pride, who had some very very cool emotes, and Arctic Express who just had a neat character. Silver Dynamo, however, was far and a way the most interesting person I came across and amybe the most creative too.

Anyway, just thought I'd share my reactions to my first night as a pseudo member of this RP community. I can't wait to meet even more of you on streets. Until then, keep up the awesome work!

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We can't even seem to populate a single spot much less a chain.

On the other hand, it would provide a motivation (for the character) to show up. The only motivation for standing around Galaxy Girl is... what, staring up the skirt of a statue?

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Well I could pose Laird so you could all stand around and look up his kilt....What, no takers?

Well, since I figure this post should stay towards the front page thought I'd do my part.
Anyway, I'm The Laird and just moved to Virture from Victory and looking forward to some RPing.
See ya around.