Re: "Prisioneros de los Piratas"
Publicado: 10-Jul-2022, 23:38
Vamos a pedir los papeles para poder piratear. A por la Patente de Corso.
Foro de debate sobre el Proyecto Aon Español y la web Lobo Solitario Español, así como todo lo relacionado con el mundo de los libro-juegos
https://www.projectaon.org/es/foro3/
El Analandés escribió: ↑10-Jul-2022, 14:03 Hagamos las cosas legalmente. Hasta para violar, saquear, asesinar y quemar (recordar, quemar siempre lo último) hace falta tener los papeles en regla. Pedir la patente de corso y darnos de alta en autónomos.
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A letter of marque would allow you to indulge in a spot of honest piracy – or rather privateering, as it is called. Such a letter licenses you to act as a private soldier of Her Majesty’s navy, with full entitlement to plunder Sidonian treasure-ships.
‘But we’ll never be able to get one,’ says Blutz despondently after you have all spent some time discussing the idea.
‘That’s right,’ growls Oakley. ‘It costs almost as much in bribes to get hold of a letter of marque as you’re likely to bring in as profit.’
‘Aha,’ you say, pulling a furled-up document from your sleeve and tossing it onto the table. ‘What’s this?’
Grimes inspects it with mounting astonishment. ‘Why, it’s a letter of marque, establishing our right to act as privateers on the Carab Sea! How did you get—’ He pauses and a slow grin suffuses his face. ‘The ink’s still wet.’
You retrieve the letter of marque, beaming with pride. It is as good a forgery as any you’ve ever done. When the ink dries it will be indistinguishable from the real thing. Record it among the possessions listed on your Character Sheet.
If you have the codeword Marathon and want to call on Master Capstick, turn to 69. Otherwise turn to 107.
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A letter of marque would allow you to indulge in a spot of honest piracy – or rather privateering, as it is called. Such a letter licenses you
to act as a private soldier of Her Majesty’s navy, with full entitlement to plunder Sidonian treasure-ships.
‘But we’ll never be able to get one,’ sighs Blutz after you have all spent some time discussing the idea.
‘That’s right,’ growls Oakley. ‘I hear it costs almost as much in bribes to get hold of a letter of marque as you’re likely to bring in as profit!’
‘We may as well try, at least,’ you tell them, irritated to hear such pessimism.
You make your way up the narrow streets to the fort, where you lose no time in applying to the Office of Prejudicial Trade for a letter of marque. A bland-faced fellow in a blue velvet doublet listens to your request, then favours you with a prim smile. ‘Of course, Her Majesty’s government is very keen to see private enterprise flourish,’ he murmurs silkily. ‘But drawing up a letter of marque is not just a simple matter of putting quill to paper. There are forms to be filled in, credentials to be established, the proper channels to go through, red tape…’ He pretends to stifle a yawn. ‘It all takes time. And money.’
Grimes nudges you and mutters behind his hand. ‘He’s angling for a bribe, skipper.’
If you have a diamond with which to bribe the official, cross it off your list of possessions and turn to 244. If you prefer to resort to CUNNING, turn to 260. Otherwise, you can take your leave, either to call on Master Capstick if you have the codeword Marathon (turn to 69) or to weigh up your remaining options (turn to 107).
Dark-kia escribió: ↑10-Jul-2022, 12:33 164
Recorriendo las esquinas de las calles iluminadas por la luna y las tabernas de bajo techo y llenas de humo, gradualmente vas conociendo una historia de verdadero terror. Parece que El Draque era un mercenario de los Cárpatos que llegó al Nuevo Mundo hace diez años y de inmediato se embarcó en una ola de piratería desenfrenada. Reconocible al instante por sus dientes limados y sus ojos acerados, inspiraba tal miedo que la mayoría de los barcos se rendían tan pronto como izaba su bandera. El consenso general entre todas las personas con las que hablas es que dormía durante el día en una caja en la bodega de carga de su barco, que bebía la sangre de los que asesinaba y que era inmune a las heridas mortales.
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With your companions’ help, you examine the sea charts and plot your course. Where will you steer – to Tortoise Island (turn to 186), to Port Leshand (turn to 339) or to Crossbones Island (turn to 358)?
Bienvenido a bordo de nuevo. Espero que hayas recuperado fuerzas porque nos vamos a desenterrar un tesoro...
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Signing on a small crew, you set sail. A strong following wind allows you to make good headway, and you reach the island within a fortnight. As you coast in search of safe anchorage, Blutz points out a smaller isle that would be joined to the main island at low tide. Beyond it lies a bay where you drop anchor. Going ashore on the smaller island armed with shovels, you soon discover a boulder marked with crossed bones. ‘Here’s where we shall dig,’ you tell the others.
You labour on throughout the afternoon – and hot work it is, with barely a breath of wind under a sun steaming through coastal marshhaze. The western sky is already turning the colour of blood when there is the scrape of iron on wood. ‘I’ve found a box!’ yells Blutz.
‘And I another!’ Grimes calls out a moment later.
Scooping away the sand with your hands, you uncover a dozen large wooden crates. ‘This is a goodly hoard!’ you say, breathless with sudden excitement. ‘Break one open, lads, and let’s see El Draque’s treasure.’
Grimes smashes a hasp with his shovel. There is a creak as you wrench the lid up. A strong smell of tobacco and tar rises from the interior – and something else: formaldehyde. A corpse lies there, resting on silver ingots, eyes staring sightlessly from a face which is colourless but untouched by decay. On the waxy flesh of its bare chest you see a tattoo with the legend ‘Dethly is fear’.
‘In God’s holy name,’ breathes Oakley, ‘what’s this?’
Blutz grabs your arm. ‘The sun’s close to setting, skipper. For heaven’s sake, let’s forget the treasure and put to sea while we still can!’
You can open the other boxes (turn to 78), wait until nightfall (turn to 347), or return to the ship and set sail at once (turn to 413).
Profesorinternet, ¿cómo van tus traducciones? ¿tienes alguna a la vista?
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Two more boxes are swiftly opened, their lids splintering under hard shovel-blows. These also contain dead bodies lying on bars of silver. The third gives you particular cause to shudder – a thin rill of blood has caked on its lips, just as a careless or gluttonous man might leave a dribble of gravy.
‘Vampires!’ gasps Blutz. All together you turn to look at the sun, now almost drowned in the western sea. In mere moments the last of the daylight will have drained away.
Blutz pulls a stick from his belt and thrusts it into your hand. It is the broken stool-leg he got clouted with back in the tavern in Selenice. The end has splintered to leave a sharp point. Sharp enough to pierce a heart, if driven down with courage and strength.
There is just time to impale one of the three corpses you’ve unearthed. You glance from one to another. Which will it be: the body with blood on its lips (turn to 169), the one with a skull tattoo (turn to 188), or the one with ice-blue eyes (turn to 150)?
Me suena raro, lo cambiaría por "En apenas unos segundos".En meros momentos, ...
En unos momentos, la última luz del día habrá desaparecido.
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You do not relish such grisly work, but there is no time for hesitation. Kneeling in the bottom of the pit, you raise the sharp stake and drive it deep into the corpse’s chest. Instantly the mouth gapes open and there issues forth such a howl of cold hatred that it will haunt your dreams forevermore. The eyes blaze for an instant in their sockets, then darken in true death as a fountain of dry brown blood wells up around the wound.
You lurch to your feet, glad to feel your friends’ hands at your shoulders. Gradually, under your horrified eyes, the corpses collapse and shrivel away to dust.
‘Collect the treasure, shipmates,’ you say in a hoarse voice. ‘And look sharp – I’m keen to quit this place.’
The moon has risen by the time all the loot is safely stowed aboard the Lady of Shalott. Only then, with shaking hand, do you broach a bottle of rum. Each man gulps his tot eagerly, anxious to rid himself of his memories of this ghastly evening.
Turn to 16.
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You sail back into Selenice harbour with a hold full of treasure and hearts full of confidence. News of your fortune spreads rapidly, bringing the master shipwright himself hurrying down to the quay to greet you.
‘Come aboard, Master Kemp,’ you say, heartily pumping his hand as he steps off the gangplank. ‘We’ve found rich pickings on our travels. Perhaps now you can sell us a ship more suited to our needs?’ With that, you throw open the hold covers with a theatrical flourish.
The sunlight reflects off your haul in patterns of gold, silver and ruby-red across Kemp’s face. He looks up with as broad a smile as a mouth could manage and says, ‘Why, captain, I have the very ship for you moored just along the quay.’
You turn to look where he is pointing, a gasp of admiration escaping your lips as you do. The ship is a proud tall-masted galleon with sixty cannon bristling along her gunwales. Her figurehead is a painted oak mermaid of almost supernatural beauty. ‘The Faerie Queen,’ says Blutz, reading the name emblazoned on the prow. ‘I think I’m in love.’
‘That’s the one for us,’ you concur. ‘Master Kemp, you keep the sloop and the loot here in the hold. We’ll have the Faerie Queen.’
Kemp nods, stunned at having made the quickest sale of his life, while you stride down the gangplank and along the quay to take command of your new vessel. Turn to 184.
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Leading your comrades out of town, you walk to a secluded cove along the beach. ‘What have we come here for?’ asks Blutz. ‘Is it a smugglers’ cove?’
Grimes nods approvingly. ‘A good idea, if so. Any smugglers who try to avoid the port levy in Selenice can hardly go whining to the Brethren if we seize their contraband.’
‘No, there aren’t any smugglers,’ you say. ‘But if I’m right, it’s here we’ll get our ship.’ You wait at the fringe of the beach with sea foam at your feet. Sunset first sets the sky afire, then drains it of colour. Finally, raising the conch-shell horn to your lips, you blow a long low
note. It resounds out into the velvet dusk, rolling eerily across the water.
You lower the horn, but it continues to sound. The note gets deeper and louder. It is throbbing in your hands now, pulsing with magical energy. ‘It’s going to explode!’ shrieks Blutz in sudden alarm. ‘Get rid of it, skipper!’ Before you can stop him, he has snatched the horn and lobbed it far out into the waves.
The sound continues to build under the water, like the deepest rumbling note of a submerged organ. You avert your eyes, hands pressed to your ears, as a titanic blast sends a waterspout gushing into the air. Droplets of brine shower down around you. You look back out to sea. Something has bobbed up from the sea bed and is coming towards you: a coracle formed of a giant half-shell drawn by a shark and a dolphin. These strange steeds are tethered to the coracle with seaweed fronds, like horses pulling a carriage. ‘Climb aboard,’ says the shark in a sharp voice. ‘We’ll take you to Neptune’s harbour.’
The dolphin has a softer tone: ‘But beware, as you must find your own vessel for the journey back.’
Choose. Will you board the coracle (turn to 233), or refuse (turn to 203)?
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The four of you crouch down in the weird boat. No sooner have you settled yourselves than the two great fish slap the waters with their tails, drawing you out to sea. Darkness and frothy waves churn past. With spray in your eyes, the moon looks like a whirlpool in the firmament and there is no way to tell how far you’ve travelled when, at last, the boat drifts to a halt. You see that you are close to the entrance of a massive harbour. A long golden chain is stretched across the harbour mouth to block vessels from entering or leaving.
The moon emerges from behind a cloud, flooding the scene in its timeless white glow. You give a gasp, for now you see that what you had taken to be the pillars of the harbour gate are actually colossal legs stretching up far into the night sky. Craning your neck, you see the massive outline of a giant’s shoulders against the moon-grazed clouds.
The giant stoops, showing a smile as wide as a galleon’s beam in his face of smooth dark marble. ‘Four wayfarers,’ he says in the tone of one who has noticed four curious insects under his nose. ‘Mortals. What brings you to Neptune’s gate?’
If you say you seek a ship, turn to 34. If you ask for his help in your quest, turn to 53. If you tell him you want to return home, turn to 72.