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PostPosted: Sat Sep 20, 2008 10:58 pm
by chickens1127
I thought this up, maybe it would work:

Your name is Todd Withersby, a resident of Newburyport, Mass. . You are an adopted son of the wealthy cannon forger, Alexander Withersby during the height of the American Revelution. During the Revelutionary War, Americans allowed pirvate investors to buy vessels and attack British merchant ships. Though, in America, there is no cannon forger and in 1774 your stepfather set's up the first cannon forgery and is immediatly bombarded by hundreds of orders for cannons for their privateers. You yourself are intrested in privateering, and work for your father for a few years. Once you have earned enough money, at 16, you buy an old sloop named the Gun Runner. Your father gives you eight cannons for very little cost. You hire a crew of 58 men and decide to read some books on navigation and be captain yourself. You set sail July 28th, 1778 and you sail for Bermuda. You must deicde the future of your ship, your fortune, your career, and your life.

PostPosted: Sun Sep 21, 2008 3:13 am
by mercedes
Sounds like it would be a really good game and book Chickenz..:)

PostPosted: Sun Sep 21, 2008 7:18 am
by Lyberodoggy
You could use some great techniques with such a game: 3d person plugin for the ship, maps, battles using the number of the cannons you have to decide who the winner is, etc

PostPosted: Sun Sep 21, 2008 5:28 pm
by chickens1127
Yea, I might actully write a book and once I finish AM Brawl I'll do a game on it.

PostPosted: Tue Sep 23, 2008 1:14 am
by chickens1127
Here's the first chapter of the book:

It was a mild, New England day, in Charleston, Massachusetts over the Charles from Boston. I sat on a small marina down on the wharf. It was an early fall day that the sun shone down on the water strongly for only a short time, and then turned into a cool, fall day. I heard footsteps approach me, but I did not care. I did not care about anyone. I wanted to build an impenetrable fortress, where nobody could enter or leave. I did not care- I did not care about my life. The footsteps got louder and louder on the wooden planking of the wharf, and I finally turned despite my instincts. The man, or rather boy, was about 16, just three years younger than me. He broke into a jog down the planking, and got into a rowboat not less than 15 feet from me. He started to row briskly, and before long he was heading across the river to Boston. Soon after, not more than ten minutes, an old man hobbled out of a nearby wharf house and walked down to where the rowboat was. He looked around for a while, and soon after, he started to walk back to downtown Charleston, toward the community of Cambridge. I had an impulse to say something, to tell him a boy stole his rowboat and headed off. ?A young boy took your rowboat, I think.? The man turned around, grunted, and walked away.

The weeks passed on, the days got shorter and brisker, the nights longer and colder. Ships came in daily, retiring to the harbor for the winter. A few brave ships left port and headed out on daring trade routes in the frigid water. It soon turned Holiday time, and I was restrained to my house besides in the early afternoon when I would go to the inn?s and pubs and look for a merchant crew to join. The attempts have been futile, all the captains are greedy and overzealous. My father needs the money to support my four younger siblings.

It became January and the whole town is covered with snow. The winters are frigid with feet of snow. I took my long walks in the evening, just before the sun set. I would sit at the wharf every day. I did not care anymore. I wanted to run away to a place where life would start again. I caused it, I caused it. I started the whole thing. I caused the whole thing. I caused it, and I ended it. But too late. If I was faster, if I moved faster, I would have saved human lives. But I was too late. It was getting dark and I retired to my house.

I am writing the whole thing in Word.

PostPosted: Sun Sep 28, 2008 3:21 pm
by chickens1127
Anyone like my idea???? Here's the second chapter. It's twice as long:

The long March days were soon upon Boston. The snow started to melt. On an early March day, when the snow was still on the ground, I heard a trumpet playing. I grabbed one of my father?s rowboats and rowed over to Boston. Then I heard gun shots and I rowed faster. I got there and ran toward the gun shots. I saw an angry mob. I ran there and I saw bodies on the ground. I looked at them and horror came over me, a sudden rush of icy wind. There was my father, bleeding to death. I kneeled down and just looked at him. And then he said four words that would stay with me for the rest of my life:
?Sail- on, sail on??
Then his head turned to the right and turned white. I knew that he was gone, gone for good. He was gone. I slowly walked back to the wharf. I was depressed- my mother died in a fire, my father had died in a riot. I tied up the rowboat and ran home, sobbing. I shut the door, and I cried. I could not believe any of this. My mother died in a fire caused by me, and I didn?t save her. Then eight months later my father dies in a riot with the redcoats. The British must pay- they must pay. And there I set my sights on revenge. This means war. This means war.
I soon sold my parent?s home, took the money, moved in with a family friend while they searched for a foster family. It soon turned spring, and my temporary parents moved out to their summer home just north-west of Boston. The peach orchards and open pastures were unlike anything I have ever experienced. I had never been out of Boston, and the country life made me forget my parents. They soon found a foster family, out in Essex County, in a sea-port called Newburyport. I soon left my family and thanked them for all they had done for me. A carriage soon came and I got in it. This carriage was extreme luxury, and I enjoyed the ride. When I arrived in a village, a only a slight sea breeze could be felt unlike my hometown of Charleston. When I got off, I was directed by the carriage driver to a building in centre square,that appeared almost like the town hall. The carriage master opened the door and I walked in. The floors were fine oak, and the Persian carpets elegant. There was about 30 people walking briskly up and down the long hallway, walking into rooms, shouting orders. I started walking down the corridor and looked into one of the rooms; a half dozen printing presses lined the walls of the square room, with twenty people inking and turning the press. I soon discovered that this was the headquarters of a book-printing studio, with over 100 presses, the most in all the colonies. I was soon directed toward stairs at the end of the hallway, and when I got up to the second floor, it was much more quiet. The carriage master told me to go into one of the rooms till Mr. Withersby came in. I sat there for about 10 minutes, and a man finally came in, wearing high end clothing. He was stocky and short, about five foot five. He sat down and sat there for a moment.
?So your Mrs. Subury?s son?? he asked in a deep voice.
?Why yes I am. Pleased to meet you,? in as polite manner I could think of.
? I am Mr. Withersby if you do not know. I will be taking care of you for a while.
You will being staying right across the town square from here, on the second floor, um, second right at the top of the stairs.?
?May I ask you a question??
?Why yes, son.?
?Where exactly am I??
?Oh, you have a good wit about you. Well, you are in a industrial village about a mile and a half outside of Newburyport.?
? Yes, thank you very much.?
And with this my first dialog with my new family ended. He left the room, and I left soon after. I went over to where I was to live, and found all my possessions already in my room. I then headed out and explored the town. He was right- this was an industrial village. But rather a large town. There were blacksmiths, goldsmiths, forgeries, the book studio, and more. The town bustled with hundreds of people running around, all in a hurry. And with this end?s the first saga of my life.

PostPosted: Sun Sep 28, 2008 3:25 pm
by Lyberodoggy
yep, it's good.

PostPosted: Sun Sep 28, 2008 4:02 pm
by mercedes
Hi there...yes its a good Story Chickenz..~!...

Just a couple of things..I don't know if you are looking for helpful critisism or not..If so here goes..:)

1.-..It's a young man in this right..?..16 or so..with a hard that he's alone and has lost his parents, and now is desolate.
I'm not sure i would put him with a family..Kinda ends the story for me
I would like to think..i don't know what's going to happen to him..I guess what i'm trying to say is, i felt safe, when a family come along to take care of him..
I would rather think he's desolate and have, maybe a Pirate..that takes care of him him an even harder edge..Being a boy on a Pirates ship..

For the next part..I would have him being older..say 24..and in this part of the story,..describe what he went through..this Pirate who takes him under his wing..Although was his gaurdian..was really hard on him too..and now he himself is a Pirate..and well known..~ feared..

One more thing..I may change what the father says to him..his dying breath..something to do with hating perhaps the enemy..This way he grows up with a chip on his shoulder for English..[They must pay..] already says it too...and Pirates as many English ships as he can..but meets someone to change his mind maybe..~

This is just my opinion..I read an awful lot of these kinds of books..:P..dont take offence, I enjoy reading any story, so wether you keep it this way..I'm sure i'll like it too~:)


PostPosted: Mon Sep 29, 2008 10:53 pm
by chickens1127
Well, this whole beginning is a sort of intro. Now the real story begins. I hope to do 30+ chapters for the book, each beign 2-3 pages.

PostPosted: Tue Sep 30, 2008 12:27 am
by mercedes
Cool..!~ I look forward to it..I love Pirate stories..:D



PostPosted: Tue Sep 30, 2008 1:39 am
by chickens1127
Short Chapter 3:

I explored the town the days after I arrived at the town. There was not much to do besides to walk around. I ate dinner with my father and I usually did not have much of a conversation with him. When we did, he usually told me about how the town worked and what happened. One day he said I could go into the town of Newburyport, but be back by dinner. I walked down the road and soon arrived there in about thirty seconds. The town was much bigger then my home village. I walked into town and felt a strong sea breeze. I walked toward the marinas and walked onto one. There were many merchant ships and a few sloops in the harbor. I then walked back to downtown and bought some odds and ends.

Months passed, and it soon became winter. It then became 1771. Nothing much ever happened. Here it seemed the winters were worse than Boston. I retired to my room, and would take long walks around the town. Then it became spring and I went to my parent?s cemetery. The warm summers became pleasant after the long cold winter. The autumn leaves soon fell, and before the frigid winter I visited Newburyport. There was a captain down on the marina. He was shouting out that he needed a ship?s boy before he left port. I walked by and he yelled at me, asking if I wanted to join. I first declined, but when I walked by forty five minutes later he was still there. I told him I?ll take the job, and he gave me a signing bonus. He said we sailed tomorrow and he would give me housing tonight. Though I know my decision was wrong, I wanted some adventure.
I woke up early that morning, and rushed down to the marina. The captain was there, and checked me on his list. I went aboard and dragged my chest over to my hammock. I noticed that there were cannons aboard seven on each side. I was curious with this, since I thought this voyage was one of mercantile purposes. A sudden rush of fear came over me that I was on a navy ship that I could be killed, and my foster parents would never know where I went. I suddenly ran onto the spar deck and looked into the town. I saw my foster father run onto one of the wharfs and looked around, and I soon burst out into tears. I ran down to the orlop deck where nobody goes. I just sobbed there for a while, and then when I got myself contained, I went back up to the deck and discovered that this was a British sloop-of-war, a British sloop. I am serving on a British warship.

PostPosted: Tue Sep 30, 2008 2:29 am
by mercedes
Well done...!~...Sounds good so far..:)

PostPosted: Fri Oct 03, 2008 8:49 pm
by chickens1127
I was away on overnight trip, no comps., :( :( :( , so will finish Chapter 4 by Sunday.

PostPosted: Fri Oct 03, 2008 10:29 pm
by mercedes
Oh i hope so... into this now...:D

PostPosted: Sun Oct 05, 2008 10:51 pm
by chickens1127
Chapter 4... (Drumroll! Big things happen! :D :D :D )

The long days on the Hudson were tiring, as we sailed into the deep blue ocean. I learned that the Hudson was an 18 gun sloop that was to patrol the New Hampshire coast. I was old enough, 15, to be paid as a sailor, for the life of powder monkeys are far worse. I was an average sailor, so I was entitled to a hammock, full servings of grog. I got two four hour sleep shifts each day, which was very annoying. One May day when we were patrolling outside of Portsmouth, a shout rang out, and soon the ship?s bell was ringing. Since I was on duty, I looked over the starboard side of the ship and saw to rowboats trying to run away. Soon, the two other jolly boats were lowered, and I was one of the crewmen assigned to catch the runaways. We rowed our hearts out so we were not whipped by the officer in charge. We soon easily caught up to them and towed them back to the mother ship. There they each got 30 floggings. As to deter jumping ship, the captain made the whole crew watch them get whipped. I felt bad for them, many people jump ship and escape. Many people jumped ship because life in the Royal Navy was so bad. Many swam to shore, and found a job in a nearby port. I never thought of it though, because I was so afraid of being flogged if I was caught.
We soon arrived near land, but none of us were allowed ashore besides the best of the officers. They put a double watch for deserters, and all the jolly boats were taken ashore. Four men tried to swim to shore, two were caught, one drowned, and one escaped. Then, one early morning, a sail was seen on the port side. As we sailed closer, we hailed the ship and got no response. We were sent to our battle stations. I was up in the crow?s nest with a rifle. I was a good shot, and I could take an officer out from up to 400 yards away. As the ship got nearer, a Pirate flag was raised. It was a 17 gun schooner named the Catfish. They soon got a broadside off, and turned to escape. We were slower, but with a maneuver we got a broadside off within 150 yards of the enemy. That slowed the enemy, and allowed us to ring around their stern, avoid their broadside of cannons. We soon fired another broadside, straight into the Catfish?s stern. They soon tried to escape again, but we brought our ship around horizontally, and grappled with the pirate ship. We rallied a boarding party, and ran aboard, I was one of the first to jump over, and fired all four of my pistols, striking down two men. I then took my cutlass out and ran toward the bow. I struck down another man. We ran down to the gun deck, threw some grenades down the stern of the ships. We charged toward them, and out of nowhere, and was struck by a sword below the knee. I screamed in pain, and then shot the buccaneer. I was in too much pain to continue, so I limped back to the Hudson. I was brought down to the surgeon?s cockpit and was bandaged. The Jolly Roger was soon struck, or in other words brought down. We soon applied cables to the ship, and made tow to Portsmouth. There, the ship went in front of a prize judge, and was awarded ?15,000 pounds. I got a share of 155 pounds, which was a year?s salary. We soon set out again, but there was no activity besides patrolling. I turned 16 on the ship, and in November my enlistment was over and they dumped me in Portsmouth. I soon agreed to be an officer on a merchant ship that sailed to New Providence, Bahamas and the ship would return to Charleston, Mass., my hometown. We soon set sail, and the conditions were a little better. We soon arrived in New Providence. I went ashore and the tropical weather was wonderful. We stayed here for about a fortnight, and then sailed to Boston. We arrived there and I went ashore. I bought a small house, for I had become rich. I soon decided to change my name temporarily, and since it has been a year and I now look much different since I last lived at Mr. Withersby?s village. I arrived there, and met with him. He apparently did not notice, and I got a job with him at his glassworks studio making stain-glassed windows. I worked for months and kept my pay, and whenever I had a day off I visited my home in Charleston. I soon bought a home in Newburyport, and it became 1773.

PostPosted: Sun Oct 05, 2008 11:09 pm
by mercedes
NOT bad chickenz..not bad..:)..

Way to Go.. ~


PostPosted: Mon Oct 06, 2008 11:43 am
by Lyberodoggy
It's a very nice story... But will the character actually become a pirate or hunt 'em?

PostPosted: Mon Oct 06, 2008 12:03 pm
by chickens1127
Actully, he'll be a privateer. A privateer is a liscensed pirate and cannot be hanged for piracy even in other countries. This all is historical fiction- there were tons of American privateers in the American Revelution, and there were no cannon forgeries in America till the Revelution.

PostPosted: Wed Oct 08, 2008 8:56 pm
by chickens1127
Almost done with next chapter.

PostPosted: Sat Jan 10, 2009 7:30 am
by reneuend
Ok. I finished reading the last chapter, where is the next one? :(

PostPosted: Sat Jan 10, 2009 11:59 am
by Lyberodoggy
Yeah I really liked this storyline

We want more! we want more!

PostPosted: Sat Jan 10, 2009 10:42 pm
by mercedes
Ya so did i...I was into reading this one too...:D

PostPosted: Fri Jul 24, 2009 1:56 pm
by chickens1127
RE-WRITING!!! On page 5 already.

PostPosted: Fri Jul 24, 2009 10:42 pm
by mercedes
Oh good Chickenz!~..I was into this story..:D

PostPosted: Sat Jul 25, 2009 11:57 am
by chickens1127
It is a little different, 15 years in the future, but still kind of the same.