Stratics Staff – Mr. Sapp's Tale

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Character Name: Mr. Sapp

Mr. Sapp’s Tale


“Errrr… you want to know about me? My life?” Mr.Sapp gazed at the stranger with disbelief.

The stranger grinned. He saw the disbelief but saw that it was quickly followed by more than a bit of pride… and greed. The stranger took the hint and reached into his money pouch for some gold coin, only to find it empty. He shot a sharp glance at Mr.Sapp who was leaning back in his chair, sipping his ale with a shit eating grin on his face.

The stranger grumbled to himself thinking that Sapp’s story had damn well better be good and rummaged in his pack for his scribe pen and a book. A snicker from Mr.Sapp stopped him cold.

“You be looking for these?” said Sapp as he slid the book and pen across the bar table back to their previous owner.

The stranger accepted the items with a smile that could almost be a snarl. He snapped the book open, poised the pen above the blank sheet of paper and glared at the thief, daring him to tell his story.

Seeing that play time was over, Mr.Sapp tried to think of where to start, how to start and was stumped. The stranger took pity on him and asked, “Where were you born? Who were your parents?”

“Don’t know who my pa was. It was just me and my ma.” Sapp took a healthy pull from his ale. Now that he was started, it would be tough to get him stopped.

“I ran with the other street brats while my ma cleaned some rich folk’s house.” Sapp snorted, “House, ha! Well that’s what they called it, ‘house’. Weren’t no house, it was a frickin mansion!!”

“Anyways. I ran with a thieving pack of brats. That’s what we were called, ‘pack of brats’. We stole anything not locked down. We worked real good together. Had to. If we messed up and were seen stealing, the guards would give us a good whack. Which umm hurt. Taught us good.”

“Was a good time though, until the monsters started walking into town nice as you please. Guards were exhausted and were busy elsewhere, so were no help. Things didn’t get better like they should of, but got much, much worse. Undead invaded and Trinsic, my home, was taken. Don’t know what happened to the kids I ran with. Think about ’em now and then, but anyways, I managed to escape, but my ma didn’t.”

Mr.Sapp drank the last of his ale and stared at the empty tankard lost in thought. The stranger ordered two more tankards and waited for Sapp to continue his tale.

“Don’t remember much of what happened after that, but I do remember the lands being rift into two. One dead, one full of life. Well I was a growing lad and hungry so I went where everyone else went – Trammel.”

“Trammel. Biggest mistake I ever made. Couldn’t steal a dang thing there. So I had to ‘ask’ for things I needed or go out and ‘earn’ the gold I needed! I was a thief! Not a… a… a miner!!” Mr.Sapp gestured widely at this point with tankard in hand giving a warrior nearby a good splash.

The warrior turned with a snarl wiping ale from his ear and neck, looking for the idiot responsible. He quickly spotted said idiot who was still waving his tankard ranting and raving about what the hell was a thief supposed to do in Trammel anyway? The warrior was no dullard, patted himself down making sure his valuables were still where they ought to be, then left the bar.

Realizing that Sapp needed a push, or possibly a shove, to get him off the subject of Trammel, the stranger quickly asked, “So you moved to Felucca…?”

“Right straight I did! Thieves in Felucca have skill! They have style! Let me give you an example. There was this one thief, can’t remember his name, then again he could of had a disguise on, but anyways, my he was good! Here’s what happened…”

“There was this warrior at some bank, no one else in sight. Out pops this thief. He must have gotten something good, ’cause the warrior got hopping mad, started yelling ‘guards!’ But no guards came ’cause the thief wasn’t seen stealing anything. Guess they must have thought the warrior was yanking their chain. But anyways, the warrior draws his sword and gives the thief a good hit! The thief had on armor I guess ’cause he lived and yelled ‘guards!!’ This time the guards saw this ticked off warrior beating up on what they thought was an innocent citizen and gave that warrior one nasty WHACK!! The thief thanked the guards while rifling through the dead warrior’s belongings.”

“Now that’s style!” Sapp sat back smugly and waited to hear what his audience thought of this tale.

*snort* “How can a thief steal something and no one notice?” the stranger asked.

“That’s the skill part. The better your skill at stealing the better your chance of not getting noticed when you steal something.” Sapp nodded wisely. “Everyone wants to be the best and to be the best you have to have Power Scrolls. Power Scrolls are the bread and butter of those who live in Felucca.”

Seeing the ‘ask me more!’ look on Sapp’s face, the stranger ordered another round figuring he’d need it if Sapp’s tales weren’t any better than that last one. “Let me guess, you stealth into a champ, steal someone’s scroll, and run away. Right?”

Mr.Sapp chuckled softly. “No. I steal the champs.”

The stranger didn’t expect this answer and didn’t have a clue what to say, “tell me.”

“Well you see in Fel, it’s all about being the best and the strongest. It’s something I learned in the streets of Trinsic as a kid, a group working together is stronger, better than someone alone.”

Not seeing how that had anything to do with stealing champs, the stranger just nodded and motioned Sapp to continue.

“I do many things for my guild, my friends, that others can’t. I am often their eyes. No one can see me when I’m stealthing around so the group working the champ won’t know they are being watched.” Sapp grinned, “But I get bored just watching. So sometimes, when I get the chance, I’ll loot the corpses of those the spawn kills.” Sapp was almost laughing now, “They then have to ask their friends for stuff or leave the champ and get more, usually mumbling something nasty about looting spawn.” Mr.Sapp snickered. “That be one less person my guild won’t be needing to fight. And when my guild does roll in, I be ready with a bola to knock them murderers off their mounts! Anything I can do to help take the champ, I do.”

Mr.Sapp saw that the stranger was looking rather disappointed, so he continued, “And once in a while that means I get to steal me the champ. Pull it away from the fighting to some spot where a couple others can go kill it while the rest continue to fight. Sounds simple don’t it? Well it ain’t. Let me tell you a true story.”

“I was watching a group work the Rikktor spawn in Destard. Yes, we was going to raid. But another guild beat us to the punch and raided them first! We figured what the hell and joined in on the fun. While the three different guilds were bashing and blasting each other, Rikktor appeared all nice and calm as you please sitting on the alter. I got his attention and he decided I’d make a good snack. I ran. He followed. Ever try to find a hiding place for something as big as Rikktor – in Destard? With every dragon you pass also on your tail? I get Rikktor to where that water elemental spawns. I hide and wait. And wait. And wait. Where were my friends? Turned out they was all dead. So here I be, alone with Rikktor and no way to kill ’em. Needless to say, he got stolen from me. Irritating.”

MrSapp drained his ale and said, “So you see, stealing champs takes skill, a group of friends, and luck.” Sapp stood up and thanked the stranger, “well stranger, I hope you got what you wanted. I’m not a very good thief, but I do me best. Enjoy your stay in Fel.” With that said, Mr.Sapp left, or at least appeared to.

The stranger was looking over his notes when the bar maid came over to collect for the ales. The stranger reached for his money pouch and then remembered it was empty. “SAPP!” Yes Mr.Sapp was still there and came out of hiding when he near doubled over laughing. The stranger drew his sword, Sapp stopped laughing and bolted. The stranger thought about chasing him down and running him through, but saw a guard walk by, remembered Sapp’s first story and sheathed his sword instead. “Damned thieves.”

Last modified: September 8, 2011

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