Friday, December 6, 2013

A pirate and a priest walk into a bar....

This is a creative exercise I worked on the other day. I had this thought, "A pirate and a priest walk into a bar." But then that had me wondering, what would a conversation between a priest and a pirate look like? This is what came of that question.

“Whew!” Jefferson whistled as he walked into the church, his boots clicking along the wooden floor. One hand rested comfortably on the rapier on his belt. His long black coat trailed down to mid-calf, his cream colored shirt was covered somewhat by a silver and blue vest. His wide brimmed hat shadowed his face.

The wooden pews were polished to a fine shine, symbols of the god Balandor hanging all around. He looked to the man standing in front of the altar, his long dark blue robes and white collar indicating his position as a priest of Balandor.

“How can I help you?” the priest asked. He was slightly taller than Jefferson, and he had gained a little more weight since Jefferson had last seen him. The priest had golden blond hair and deep blue eyes, which watched Jefferson intently.

“Is that how you great your best mate after all these year?” Jefferson asked.

“That was a long time ago,” the priest said. “Things are different now.”

“Look at you, getting religious and all.” Jefferson mocked, trailing his fingers over the pews as he made his way forward. “I would have never believed it until I saw it with my own eyes.”

“What services do you require of Balandor, Jefferson?” the priest asked.

 Jefferson ignored the question. "It’s not what Balandor can do for me; it’s what you can do for me James.

He sat down on a pew, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other, getting comfortable.

“I gave up that life forever,” the priest said. “I now serve the greater good.”

“Trying to make recompense for your checkered past, so you overcompensate and become a priest?” Jefferson asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Say what you will,” James said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But after Lizzie’s death, something had to change. I had to change.”

“So you turn your back on your family?” Jefferson prodded. “Leave your best mate stranded on Devil’s Trumpet, with nothing but a dirty canteen and a rusty sword?”

The priest shifted uncomfortably.

“You took my ship James.”

“Our ship,” James argued, clearly annoyed. “And you got it back.”

“That I did,” Jefferson said. “After the crew came back for me. Why did you do it James?”

“Because if I didn’t, you would have stopped me from going after Felter.” James said.

Jefferson laughed. “So the priestly act isn’t just because of your deeds as a privateer? It’s because of what you did to Skylan Felter? I see the need to turn to religion then. Murder is a hard act to make up for. You’re right; I would have tried to stop you.”

“I didn’t kill him,” James said, looking suddenly very tired. “I wanted to. I wanted to very badly. But I couldn’t. I had an opportunity to and I couldn’t do it. That’s when I knew I had to change.”

Jefferson played with the hoop earring in his right ear, taking in the information. “Regardless of what happened in the past, I still need you.”

“I told you Jeffs, I’m not a pirate anymore.”

“Privateer.” Jefferson corrected.

“Fine, privateer,” James said exasperated. “What do you want?”

“The Admiral is in trouble.” Jefferson said.

The priest’s eyes went wide. “Dad? What happened?”

“He has been distraught since Lizzie’s death, so he made a deal,” Jefferson said. “He promised his soul to the goddess Sharatel in exchange for the chance to find Lizzie’s soul.”

“He didn’t?” James said, sounding suddenly very worried. “That means.”

“You see my dilemma?” Jefferson interrupted. “He plans to sail for the Gates of Fire tonight, and I am thinking that a priest might come in handy on the voyage. You know the reputation that place has.”

“Yes I do.” James said, sitting down beside Jefferson.

“So?” Jefferson asked, leaning forward. “What do you say little brother?”

 The priest shook his head. “You know I won’t leave dad alone in this. I’ll help.”

“Good,” Jefferson said, slapping him on the shoulder. “Glad to have you back mate, and the boys will be happy to have their Quartermaster back.”