Marco

Marco struck Smaz as a strange character. Not only was his heavy pirate dialect slightly humorous to Smaz, to the extent that Smaz saw himself slightly superior than the shaggy male, but it was Marco’s friendly nature that struck the knight as bizarre, considering Marco was a pirate.

Not long after the encounter, Marco had sat Smaz down at his circular, wooden, table, thanking the knight delightfully for the kind gesture of standing up to the thug.

"I 'andle mah own ba'tles, sir, but you know, McClaren has been givin' me a hard time since I got in ter town... so I thank ye must 'umbly sir knight," Marco said, shaking Smaz's gloved right hand with his own left hand. Smaz was somewhat shifty in case anyone from outside of the Inn came barging in, looking for him, but he guessed that they would never look for a high-class knight, as such as himself, in such a rundown joint as this. After a few seconds with this in mind, Smaz relaxed a little and gave a warm smile back to the pirate, still shaking his hand. Marco's hand was strangely cold.

"Well, it is my duty to help those in need, Mr..." Smaz trailed off for two reasons - the first being that he didn't know Marco's full name, and the second because Marco's pawed hand was not becoming any warmer. He looked down momentarily whilst Marco replied.

"No misters in 'ere, sir knight - jus' plain ol' Marco," chuckled the warm-hearted pirate.

Smaz's eyes froze as they worked their way down Marco's golden rimmed sleeves and down his jacket's red arm until he located the source of his questions. Marco's hand was not living and even Smaz's paw let go. It was pure metal.

Marco chuckled in response. "Don' ye worry abou' mah 'and there, sir knight - it's an old memory from long ago..." the pirate paused as his eyes drifted off the days of the old. Smaz was wondering if he should leave before things became somewhat too bizarre for his tastes, but quickly decided against that when he saw a small group of angry Kyotes whizz past the Inn window, nearest him, shouting out Smaz's name.

Marco's eyes were still glazed over until a distinctive female voice called out to him.

"Marco, if yah don't order a drink now, ye can ge' outta the Inn before ye cause even more trouble, you ol' dog." The bar waitress was holding a small silver drinks tray and also held a scrunched up face full of attitude. If any resemblance, she looked like a rat with a skimpy dress on.

"Oh... yeah," Marco jumped, his eyes suddenly becoming more distinctive in colour, once again, " I'll 'ave some o' ye best Ale, an' sir knight 'ere will have..."

"It seems the action unfolded has halted my notion for a beverage. I shall have some of your finest juice - the usual, if you please." Smaz replied.

"Uh-huh... so that's one Grimsley Ale and Scotch Juice?" The bar waitress asked back in her somewhat working class accent.

"No, no, no," Smaz shook his head, "Mango juice. I assume you are new, here, Miss for I am a regular attendant to this Inn."

The area around went silent.

Smaz looked around. Old men had stopped sipping their alcoholic beverages and were staring at Smaz with gob-smacked expressions on their faces.

“I assume they are also new, here.” Smaz muttered as the expressions pierced him.

"GET. OUT." shouted the waitress.

"Wait - he is with me," Marco said, putting a hand on her arm and standing up. The waitress looked sternly at Marco's face – with one eye shielded by an eye-patch. "I've already ordered, and he's with me - you 'ave no reason to throw us out." The waitress looked sternly for a few seconds before shouting out the order to the bar maiden. The area around was still silent.

"An honourable knight surely deserves his fruit juice every so now and again, am I correct?" Smaz asked innocently, shrugging. Someone called out that bananas were the fruit of excrement.

"If yah know what's good for ya... get back to drinkin'!" Marco growled. Immediately everyone got back to drinking asides one drunken old man in the very corner.

"If... yeh... think you... can threaten me... *hiccup* with your... mutanininnieee...d... crew... then... you 'ave another wing... coming..." The drunkard slumped to the floor, obviously haven drunk himself stupid. "I want... big.. bagels..." With that, he fell out cold.

Smaz turned to Marco to see his sad face... and his blue eyes very clear in his shaggy furred head. His muzzle was very fluffy and shaggy around the tip, and its brown fur only brought out the sad blue eye Marco was sporting at that moment. His left eye was concealed under an eye patch. The pirate's red jacket, embroided with golden buttons and golden tips at the sleeves and jacket's bottom was highlighted by the translucent window near the drunkard.

"You were mutinied?" Smaz asked as Marco sat sadly down in his chair.

"Let me tell you a story..."

**********

“A long time ago,” Marco started, his voice seemingly deepening just for the tale, “On the seas, far, far away… Piratetubbies come ta play. Each o’ those Piratetubbies had a sword on the top o’ thar head, with different colours o’ skin on them.”

Smaz was unsure what to believe about the tale’s progression, so far. Either Marco was hallucinogenic at the time, or he was crazy.

“Thar were Tinkle Winkle, Dippy, Lardeedar and Pota’o.”

“I am sorry to have to intervene at this point, oh ‘great warrior of the sea’,” It was evident Smaz had had enough of the bizarre story already, and even emphasised the term of ‘great warrior’ to such a sarcastic effect, Marco scowled, “but your tale seems somewhat too far-fetched for even a toddler’s liking. I am sorry but I do not believe you.”

Marco jumped up at this point, an angry expression on his face.

“I didn’t say yer had to believe me, but insultin’ me is somethin’ I don’ take too kindly, good ‘sirrrrr’!” It was evident the pirate captain was rather peeved at Smaz, emphasising the term ‘sir’ to the exact same effect that Smaz had done to him. There was a slight pause in which Smaz simply looked up at the captain with his steely-thin eyes. Marco brought up his organic paw to his face and scratched the side of his cheek, in thought. “…Arrrr… pardon me… tha' was an ol’ dream I had when the night were young and I had indulged in some o’ my finest ale…” He apologised, embarrassed.

“Not at all, although I did think something was amiss. Do continue.”

“That very night, in fact… I 'ad met a wonderful woman, whom were sooooo beautiful, me 'eart melted from ‘er sheer sight…” Marco’s voice had become softer when he said this, but retaining the same deepness as when he started the tale, making it all sound somewhat like a strange melodic poem, “…her hair were shiny and sleek, goin’ down to ‘er perfectly rounded shoulders… bearing a perfect name – Melissa.”

Smaz was always quiet when others talked of their own love interests in such a way. Had he heard the front guards, at the castle, earlier, he would have not had his usual cold heart to dismiss them as he did, but rather go past them silently. He had no true memory of anyone loving him in such a way, and he loving them, and it made him feel somewhat lonely in comparison. He longed to be close to someone, but in his deepest heart, he knew no one would ever like him for who he really was, and accepted that, somewhat painfully, inside. He could never tell anyone of his feelings towards such manners, though, and keeping to this, he simply looked down at the wooden, circular table as Marco continued.

“I admired ‘er chest. It was big. So I stole it.”

“How is that possible?!” Smaz asked, looking up from his spot. “How can you steal someone’s chest? It is attached to their front. Do not tell me you killed h-” Smaz was then interrupted.

“I wouldn’ ever have killed me dear Melissa, and am insulted, good knight, tha’ ye were to think so!” Marco fiercely stated. It was at this point Smaz gained the impression that although Marco had a kind soul, his temper was short when insulted or misinterpreted. “If ye must know, I stole her treasure chest. Me and me crew-”

“My crew and I.” Smaz corrected.

“DON’ INTERRUPT ME AGAIN.” Smaz saw some humour in irritating Marco as he did, although stifled his expression, as he usually did, keeping everything inside. “Me and me crew had invaded a nicely built ship of cap’ain by the name o’… now wha’ was it, again…? Ah yes… Lugae the Large. Foolish pirate he was more fat than he was smart. Any’ow, we easily bombarded the ship with our cannon balls and sorts… stealing the riches, but the true prize were the ‘ostage… my dear Melissa. ‘Er clothing were minimal, thanks to Lugae’s crew… but wha’ she did wear were fine white silk…”

Smaz had taken the spot on the table as rather more interesting, visually, than it should have been.

“In the strong’old with her, were ‘er father’s gold that the pirates had taken when kidnapping ‘er. So I stole it.”

“Marco! You talk as if you adore her so, and yet you abandoned her there and then?” Smaz cried out.

“Arrr… not quite. I untied ‘er. She was ever so thankful… but I ‘ad to steal the treasure, first. Her father WAS a different pirate, ya know? I wish I hadnee done it, now…” Marco’s voice trailed off and his eyes positioned themselves to the spot where Smaz’s had taken their root.

Smaz looked back up at Marco’s now sullen face, his memories obviously hurting him. The silence was only broken when the waitress returned with the drinks they had ordered.

“I take it you wannit on yer tab, Marco?” she replied, chewing some form of gum, it seemed.

“Oh… er…”

She had taken the pirate by surprise and he was now looking around everywhere.

“I am here. In front o’ yer.”

“Arr, right.” Marco flipped a coin to the waitress and then turned his attention back to Smaz.

“This ain’t enoff, Marco. Ya still owe us for the past six or so drinks, and this guy’s, an’ all!” She was certainly aggravated from Marco underpaying her for the drinks.

“Nah worries, doll – this is contribution towards the final pay.” Marco explained, smiling.

“One o’ these day you’ll ‘ave to pay everything you owe, and it will be more than any o’ those chests o’ gold are worth, believe you me!” She walked off in anger after plopping both the ale and the fruit drink down onto the table. Smaz adored his fruit drinks, but it was interesting to drink in this place with his glass of the fruity concoction – he usually drank in other Inns, but always in the same far away corner in each one. Smaz smiled one of his rare smiles as he picked up the glass.

“Yer a weird guy.” Marco commented before continuing. “Anyway… Melissa… took my ‘eart away from me. Being such a beauty as she was, she captivated me crew, as well. They were all over ‘er whilst I tried getting away with the treasure… they allowed beauty to get in thar way!” Marco thudded the table with his metal fist at this point, angry, once again. “…And then… being from a pirate line, herself… Melissa grabbed one o’ my crew’s scimitars… and caught me by surprise… angry at me not REALLY saving her after me crew came onto the ship’s deck. At this point, the ship were sinkin’… but untying her… despite her being all over me at firs’… was a bad mistake.”

Marco took a sip of his ale at this point, and his eyes turned into small arches of glee as his mouth filled up with his favourite yeast-infested drink. Smaz decided this was the perfect opportunity to down some of his purple fruity liquid, that somewhat looked crudely milked from fruit. The taste was more than a satisfying burst of rainbow flavour on his tongue. It was bliss.

“Ahhhhh… I love me ale, I really do… I do… they don’ break hearts like women do! Melissa… she… when she caught me by surprise, she took no time in slashing down my face… and ultimately…” Marco pointed to his eye-patch, which covered his right eye. “...gorged my eye out, throwing it into the deadly depths o’ the seas!”

Interesting, this move seemed similar to Aera’s slash across Smaz’s left eye, which he was thankful wasn’t deep, and had closed his eyelid to prevent blindness in the eye. He lightly shivered from the thought.

“We then fough’. The battle didn’ last very long… but she overwhelmed me… and me crew… obviously thinkin’ mighty o’er her beauty and power, turned against me at that moment… joined ‘er side. I were flabbergasted. They tied me to me to the mast o’ the sinking ship and thar I were… sinking with the ship we had attacked that rainy evening… whilst they sailed away in escape boats. Me own ship still stood sail nearby… simply because they wan’ed it as a beacon of my final resting place.” Marco’s voice grew croaky once more and he took another sip from his beloved ale.

So how did you escape?” Smaz asked, curiously.

“Through the treasure. Upon stealing Melissa’s treasure, I discovered thar were a lot of gold… and also a mirror piece o’ some sorts. It seemed valuable… with a big pearl in the centre and bordered with gold, reflectin’ mah face in a perfect manner… I placed in in mah jacket, and as I was abandoned thar, in the rain… somethin’ amazing happened…” Marco lowered his voice at this moment, but rather not to a deeper tone, like previously, but more to a whisper. He leaned close to Smaz, as he did so. “It produced a great pearl light from mah pocke’, which then shone a ligh’ onto the ropes, that tied my thar, to the mast… burning a hole in the ropes, but nowhere else. It were a miracle, like some o’ tha’ psychic force were ‘elpin’ me! I dropped to the water, and swam to mah ship… alive. All the while, knowin’ I were saved that day.”

“That is impressive.” Smaz simply said, however, he wasn’t sure whether or not to believe this. Then again, he had witnessed a powerful levitational magic just earlier on that day, which he thought was not to be of this world, at all. The day was turning out to be quite a day, indeed.

“So ‘ere I am today. I haven’ found me crew mates since, but if I do, they deserve death – traitors! Still, I keep the pearl with me for a good luck charm, now…”

Marco then produced a large circular object from his jacket pocket. It was amazingly beautiful – the centre was a glorious marble white pearl, with such intense shine, that Smaz could see his slightly battered face perfectly in it, even if slightly circular due to the distortion. The pearl was rimmed with a shining gold border, which seemed to be made of gold, itself. Smaz instantly recognised the pearl from the King's new portraits that hung in the castle, but he said nothing. To Smaz, it must have been worth as much as the King’s jewelled crown.

“Even to this day, ‘owever, I cannot, fer the life o’ me, realise what this great ol’ pearl is for.” Marco said, shrugging. He wasn’t expecting an answer to his comment, but he received one.

“I do.” Came a sinister and yet familiar female voice. The voice of Aera.