[Elfsea] Greetings from Iron Roger Flint

[Harold Tolliver]

Lyoness?
I took you to be Welsh after seeing ye.
Aye, I was there, but you were surrounded by a myriad troupe of bucklers and
swash. And some say a Prince was there as well. To High and Mighty for my
crowd.

I like the set of your jib, and the lift in your sail. Though your crew is a
bit young, they will season well with time and salt.

I treat my bird well, as you saw, and if they prove they are not faithful to
me I treat them as dinner.

I remain the Iron Roger Flint


On Fri, May 2, 2008 at 10:23 PM, Randal Mars <rkmars at sbcglobal.net> wrote:

> *She removes the carefully folded scrolling from the talon of a truely
> magnificent peregrine and after settling the bird onto its perch and hooding
> it properly, after carefully tying its jesses, she sits down at her table
> and bringing a candle closer reads the words written to her from this
> Northman. Her eyes sparkle with good mirth and humor as she peruses the
> thoughts the Man has written to her. Gurgles of laughter slip from
> between her rosy lips as she reads His fine boasts. Tapping her teeth with a
> pearly pink fingernail she thinks carefully after completing the epistle.*
>
> **
>
> *Turning to look at her cherished feline curled up on a plump cushion
> carelessly tossed into a corner she speaks in a musical voice.*
>
> **
>
> Ahh, old cat, it seems there are fine and hearty Men borne on the tossing
> breast of Mother Ocean. One such calls himself Roger Flint. He has certainly
> caught my attention, this hairy hunter who sails as a ravening wolf against
> the fat sheep merchants. He mis-read me and thinks I fear Nobles. Nay cat,
> 'tis vomiting and retching and wasting good sustinance that I fear, and any
> thrifty Captain would fear the loss of food needed for crews who mutter and
> flag in their duties far too easily when their bellys twist in hunger.
> Nonetheless, old cat, he sounds to be a fine Man and worth the knowing of.
> We shall see what the morrow brings.
>
>
>
> *Putting away her quills and inkpot and folding the cherished scraps of
> parchment for another day's usage, she clears sundry other items from the
> table. Listening to the familiar creaking of the ship lying easily at
> anchor and nodding in quiet satisfaction, she stows her belongings*
>
> *carefully into a locked leather and brass bound trunk which is then
> pushed into a hidden closet in the wainscoting. Returning to the peregrine
> she stands for a moment reguarding the bird thoughtfully.*
>
> **
>
> You have served  me well this day, Bane, my fine hunter and messenger.
> From the look of you it seems the Northman was well mannered and fed you
> before sending you aloft to return to me with his last message. A Man who
> treats a skilled bird well is worth much and worthy of respect. We shall see
> what the morrow brings. Rest well, my friend.
>
>
>
> *Her last words as she slipped into the warm embrace of sleep echoed in
> the silence of a cabin broken only by the soft purring of a contented cat
> curled at the foot of her pallet and the occasional soft ruffle of feathers
> from a pirch across the room.*
>
> **
>
> Now I wonder why it is this Northman thought a proud and independant
> business woman of the Ancient Lineage of Lyoness to be an Anglick?
> Pffttt..... there is no understanding foreigners, is there? Goodnight, cat.
> Goodnight, Bane.
>
>
>
> *There were no answers at all from the darkness.*
>
> **
>
> *Aye, indeed, the morrow will tell.*
>
>
>
>
> ----- Original Message ----
> From: Harold Tolliver <ironrogerflint.harold at gmail.com>
> To: Barony of Elfsea <elfsea at lists.ansteorra.org>
> Sent: Friday, May 2, 2008 9:19:11 PM
> Subject: Re: [Elfsea] Greetings from Iron Roger Flint
>
> Aye, Shiver in Terror.
> I am from the north and my hair may be white, but I am not one of the Vik.
> They know not the courage of my crew, nor the skill of lying in wait for
> days for my prey. Nor do they live north of the trees, for that is my
> hunting ground, and they would not long survive in my world.
>
> And you...You Anglik Privateer.
> You have to have "permission" in order to wage thievery. Your ships sail
> the warm seas for you are not capable of watching a sparrow, let along an
> eagle.
>
> You even say that you are afeared of "offending Noble Women and small
> children"? I fear naught. Nor do I fear offense of my person, nay for I am
> the Iron Roger Flint.
>
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