Author Topic: Crewman Tales  (Read 3455 times)

Offline Silas Knight

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Crewman Tales
« on: August 14, 2013, 12:03:52 am »
Hello all!  I propose that we as a community post here and share back stories to our character.  I for one am going to be very serious in RP within the game itself, I've named my ship something spiffy, I've converted my name into something Steampunk here, used an old age voice, and more.  But what I'm missing is a story and I encourage others to post one for themselves.  You can be anything, make yourself famous, meet other people from their stories, whichever position of the ship you like (Commander, pilot, engineer, gunner, or something entirely different!) whatever.   If you post your story, length doesn’t matter.  Make it short or long, it’s your story.

Since I was the age of six, I've been fascinated with Gabriel's voyage of the Icarus.  The actual voyage wasn't what turned me on though, it was the ship itself.  From that young age I watched ships fly, battle, and land from afar until I was eight and decided I was going to build my own airship.  I had visions of embarking across the desert finding riches and becoming a famed aviator.  Since only the important members of factions had access to actual copies of Gabriel’s work and reverse engineered designs, I had to get as close to the ships as guards would let me or use my telescope to watch them function during battle.  I had no one to restrict me from following my dreams for both my parents died from the red death a week before my tenth birthday birthday.  This kept on until I was thirteen.

From a safe distance, I watched as an Empire’s galleon attacked a Guild’s galleon on the outskirts.  After hours of onslaught, the Guild repelled its attacker and the Empire’s galleon turned tail and fled, huge columns of smoke trailing behind it.  I realized a little too late that the Empire’s ship was falling at a steady pace and moving in my direction.  I booked my way out of there, running for dear life.  Suddenly there was a tremendous crash and I was thrown several feet forward by shock waves and blacked out.

When I came to, it was already night and everything smelled of smoke and death.  I turned around and saw the husk of the defeated galleon, still smoldering.  I was too exhausted to do anything and I fell back to the earth and slept.  In the morning, I realized that this was my opportunity.  My dream.  I could turn this downed whale into something of my own and get it back into the air again, fresh for adventure.  I rushed to the corpse of the behemoth.  There were of course no survivors and most of the ship was damaged beyond repair.  I spent the next few years of my life venturing out to the outskirts of that broken city, hauling the useable parts of this ship back home.  Bit by bit.

I was seventeen when the ship was complete.  It was much smaller than the original aircraft but it was a sight to see nonetheless.  I build my own junker.  All my possessions were already packed onboard, seeing as it would be my new home and set off to the dead city where all this had started, hoping to follow where the Guild’s ship had gone and join in their territory where I could trade any treasure I find and become famous, like I had always dreamt of doing.  Unbeknownst to me, the Guild and the Republic were warring over kerosene deposits and as a result the Republic set up blockades in that area, seeing as moving through the labyrinth of the dead city was a quick travel route for tankers to move from the deposits to a major Guild city.  I slowly entered the city when two Repbublic goldfish and a Spire ambushed me from behind thinking I was a Guild merc, taking the risk of traveling through the city.  I was so surprised I put the ship on full speed and barreled through the city.  I had to lose those ships; I couldn’t bear the shame of having my dreams ruined by being captured.  Left, left, right, forward, left, right, up, down, up again.  I was making decisions so fast I didn’t notice the explosions of Republic ships crashing into buildings.  Before I knew it, I made it out of the city and was on the other side.  I breathed a sigh of relief and looked forward and encountered an entire fleet of Republic ships.  I surrendered for fear of being blown into smithereens.  I was thrown into jail and my ship confiscated.

I spent a year in that hellhole, beating myself up for not turning myself in at the start.  I could have been free.  When I was eighteen, I was called by the guards to an interrogation room.  Curious, I let myself be sat down into a chair, facing a man dressed in the nicest clothing I had ever seen.  He introduced himself as Rear Admiral Teller and explained that many senior officers had seen me fly through that city and were impressed with my skills in maneuvering with such a clumsy airship such as a junker.  He asked me a few questions about myself and the ship I flew before offering me a proposition.  Either join the Republic where I’ll be a low ranking officer and I’ll be given a full pardon including a crew and a ship of my choosing or rot in jail for the rest of my life.  I hesitated a moment , acknowledging that I’d be giving up my freedom, but I decided that if I move up in ranks and do well, I can quit and lead an independent life.  I told him “I’ll join, but I want my old ship back.”
He snickered and asked me “Sonny, does she even have a name?”
 I realized that I hadn’t named it yet and thought for a moment.  I picked up a bit of an archaic language called Latin in an old book in the prison library.  After a moment I replied smoothly “the Nova Tempus, it means new time, in honor of what you’ve given me.”
He chuckled again and said “She’s what we call a junker, boy, that doesn’t look good on the Republic if we have a ship that that in our fleet.”
“Well you kept it for a reason, it’s my ship, I built it myself and it’s not going to waste.” I countered.
He let out a sigh and said OK.  He filled out some paper and told me to follow him onto his ship so he could get me to mine.

I, Silas Knight, have been serving for the Republic for seven years now and am one of the youngest captains in the fleet and have moved through the ranks quickly and am currently an Ensign.  Through the years, I’ve given up on leaving the Republic, my dreams are no longer important.  What dreams are important are those of our leader and his vision of our future.

To everyone that posts, feel free to rate other people’s submissions and give feedback on things that don’t make sense (I know some of mine doesn’t match the story of Guns of Icarus accurately).

Offline Captain Ayla

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Re: Crewman Tales
« Reply #1 on: August 19, 2013, 09:37:37 am »
I grew up in a shady city ruled by the Guild to the slightly wealthy Tenebris family. Wasn't much to my childhood, my friends and I played down by the docks where the great airships docked. Saw all manner of things, every day. Navy officers in their fine coats and big hats, common sailors in clothes of whatever fancy they had, and the working captains in their cleaner and better-made coats lined with sheepskin to keep out the accursed cold. I heard from sailors in was nearly always cold in the sky, except in warm places.
When I was seventeen I was pressed into service onboard a warship. Learnt all my trade there. For seven years I served on board different ships, from tiny sky cutters to hulking warships sent to eradicate opposing forces bent on harming trade. I eventually climbed to commander, was given a small ship called the Gruff Wolf. Cute wee thing, though she was fast and her guns a brutish force.
Six months I had her, but one day, in vile fog near my home city, a daring pirate attacked us, caused my ship to crash and stole off with the merchant we'd been escorting. I knew the punishment for losing my ship, and they would never listen to my explanation. So, I left the Navy and told my lieutenant that I was supposed to be dead, and he'd best spin the tale that way.
With what money I salvaged from the Wolf I bought myself a new airship, an adorable tub called Old Betsy. I hired a small crew, bought myself the finest leather coat you ever did see and set off as an honest trader. For three years I flew Betsy, trading in materials, old technology, foods, weapons, anything that people wanted taken or sold. I spent my evenings on the small balcony at the stern, staring off into whatever distant land we'd flown to.
I saved a fair bit of money whilst trading, so I bought a bigger, better ship that had space for guns called the Sadness of Things. A high ranking navy officer, who had heard of my straight-edge exploits as an efficient merchant captain befriended me, and when I was in port I'd ask whether his ship was in. Another two years of trading and I eventually told him of my business in the old Guild navy. He offered me a letter of marque, and said that if I wanted he could give me some crew, some guns, and I could work as a privateer, hunting down pirates or other enemies of the guild for good coin. I accepted, and the Sadness of Things was given a good complement of guns, a hardy crew of skilled and honest sailors, and for three years I hunted and stole a great many ships. I was given the nickname Slackjaw, but returned to simple work with the occasional hunt.

Offline Allen Fierte

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Jack is here
« Reply #2 on: February 28, 2014, 07:44:14 am »
Welcome welcome one and all, I am here to answer your call!
You’re probably wondering, “Who are you?” Well I’ll tell you, that’s what I’ll do!
I am Jack of many faces, I am Jack of many places,
My age is somewhere from zero to ten, then up to infinity and back again,
I am a man of peace, but also a man of blades, I am The Jack, The Jack-of-all-trades.
Now you know who I am, now you have learned something new, but I have a question, look into your soul and tell me “Who are YOU?”
(Note: Jack is a character that made up on a whim. He is incredibly unpredictable, an embodiment of chaos and randomness. I think that I’ll have fun writing as him. Maybe even write a story about him. Also I would like to change my name on the forum, but I can't so just pretend it says Jack-Of-All-Trades. (My IGN) Adios)