Foundational Weapons For A Modern War
(also a Dread Pirate Roberts) On the fifteenth day, Trajan sat near the bow after breakfast, as was becoming his custom. He had not expected to find books on board and had hardly cracked one since beginning his training with Pilbrick. Now, with whole days at sea punctuated with silent progression over
Chapter 6 The Sea (continued) “Gentlemen,” Trajan finally said, “let me propose this: Say that Inigo and I meet them and report that we are hunting the Dread Pirate Roberts. We wouldn’t be speaking a falsehood. It might even allow us to gain some intelligence as to his whereabouts.” They stared at
Two days later, the double-masted caravel made its way past the breakwater and out onto the open ocean. Trajan stood near the stern and looked back at the mainland, wondering how long this next leg would take, and how this next Roberts would receive them. Both Inigo and Westley doubted Archard was
Chapter 4 Another Dread Pirate Roberts (part 3) Before he could set down his goblet Inigo was upon him, brandishing his sword in Trajan’s face and causing the young man to stumble backward to escape, knocking small pieces of pottery, tools, and unshaped steel rods across the floor. “En garde, Guilderian! En
Chapter 4 Another Dread Pirate Roberts (part 2) “These are marvelous,” Westley said, looking at the array of swords along the walls and scattered on tables. “Did you craft them all?” Inigo thumped down into a chair. “Craft, craft, what know I of craftsmanship? These are sharp paperweights.” Looking into the distance,
Trajan watched the sky as his ferry approached the dock. Several large birds circled the harbor and one made a sharp dive into the sea, then bobbed back to the surface with a fish twice its length clamped in its beak. “Is it true the ptarmadactyls attack humans?” “Yah. Haven’t ya never
Trajan and Pilbrick rapped on the door for the third time. “Go away!” a voice finally answered. They looked at each other. Pilbrick knocked again and they waited. The door swung open, revealing a withered hermit of a man with a reddish beard trailing to his waist. He brandished a pair of
Continue readingChapter 2: Miracle Max (retired, go away don’t even ask)