1: The Inkling are to be polite and respectful of one another.
2: We discourage violence, and insulting. Please settle disputes in a calm and rational manner.
3: Do not use any foul or dirty language, and please respect the values that we hold here at Inklings.
4: Do not ridicule, or tarnish anothers character, they are beloved by their creators.
5: No dark, or violent characters in the chat room.
7: Respect the moderators and obey them, regardless of age.
8: Anyone who abuses, stretches or defies these rules will be banned from the chat room and if great lengths are taken to rebel against these guidelines, then you will be cast out of Inklings.
The Chocolate Box
The Chocolate Box will be under Probation. So if anyone acts up badly and abuses the chatbox we will reserve the right to remove it without warning.
Jack here, I know-shcoking! I am here to whip you all into shape-just kidding.
Actually, I am here to thank Adam for all the work he has been doing in fixing things up around here.
I am also here to say that I will be gone for six months-though home for three weeks around Christmas. During the time I am gone I can't get on blogs, but I shall still be around to help out around here or answer questions. You guys can email me while I am gone, I think I can get email, my address is HNK1X3@Bresnan.net.
I hope everything continue to goes well and I shall do my best to assist.
Ever your one and only Jack Baillot's Ghost and his sardines.
*trips in with a loud bang* I am here. Never fear! Here is another part from Hazard on the High Seas. Don't worry, it is not as bad as the last part.
P.S.
I was bad though and made a girl revolt.
Jessie was so intent on looking at the ship that she did not notice the water was getting darker. She did not notice until Nate grabbed her arm and pointed up. The others were already swimming up, but he had returned for his distracted sister.
Jessie's eyes widened when she saw the change and she nodded her head to show she understood Nate. There was a storm coming and they had to get back to shore! She turned to follow him, leaving the old ship behind. However, she did not make it far when her tank caught on a piece of metal that was jutting out. Taken off guard, Jessie wrenched around, and did more harm then good.
One of the straps that held the tank to her shoulders, snapped. The heavy tank fell sideways and pulled her down. Jessie fought to rise, and in the process the other strap broke. The tank slid of Jessie's back, yanking her mask with it. Jessie clapped her mouth shut and swam upward.
Nate had not been idle during the whole thing. Seeing she was caught he had turned back to help her, but by then the tank had already fallen from her back. Bubbles filled the water, and Nate swam back to his sister. He grabbed her arm, tore his own mask from his face, and placed it over hers. Jessie breathed deeply.
Nate jabbed his finger back down at the tank, and then slowly swam down. He and Jessie took turns using his mask as they went. The tank had fallen in the door of a partly opened hatch. It was now caught fast. Nate made hand motions to Jessie to tell her he was going to pull it out. Jessie took a deep breath, then handed the mask back to Nate.
Nate tried to work quickly. He grabbed the tank and tried to pull it free, but it was much harder then he thought it would be. The tank was stuck, and he could not get good leverage to pull. Annoyed he let go and removed the mask so Jessie could breath again. While she was using it he thought. By the time she handed it back to him he had a plan.
*Trips in*
It's me
That is all
Read below
*Trips out with his sardines*
*Yells back* we have so many authors here now we are running out of names for everyone :-D
Jessie was sitting with some of the women when D'Arcy walked over to her and sat down. He was holding something in his hand, but Jessie did not notice it at first; she was too busy braiding strains of leather together. She had no idea what it was going to be used for, but the woman had been teaching her how to do it.
D'Arcy watched her in silence, then he touched her arm to get her attention. “Jessie?” he asked.
She looked up and smiled at him. “Aye?”
He grinned, and held the bowl out to her. Jessie looked inside, and saw it was full of wiggling, white slugs. She looked up at D'Arcy, wondering what he wanted her to do with them. He noticed the look of confusion, and for a moment he looked confused to.
“Doesn't everyone know what to do with these?” he seemed to be saying. However, he gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, reached in the bowl, and grabbed one of the grubs. With an encouraging smile, he placed the grub in his mouth, and chewed.
Jessie felt sick. He didna dae what I thought he did, she tried to convince herself. He held the bowl out to her again, and she knew she was in for it. Sure, she ate Nate's cooking, but eating a grub was pushing it; wasn't it? Even she would not go that far!
D'Arcy did not take his eyes from her face. He seemed to be searching for the right word; when he finally found it Jessie had to smile, it was one of the words she had taught him.
“Eat!” he declared in triumph.
Jessie shook her head. “I canna!” she gasped; she looked down at the writhing grubs again. “I dinna eat bug D'Arcy!”
The only word he understood was eat and D'Arcy. He grinned even wider, and grabbed another one. He popped that one in his mouth, and ate it happily. Jessie closed her eyes and clenched her stomach, but D'Arcy did not seem to notice her agony. In fact, he went so far as to pick one up and held it out to her.
Jessie tried to pull back, but there was such a look of delight in D'Arcy's eyes, that she knew she couldn't. He was trying to be friendly to her, and share, apparently, a rare treat with her.
“Father, I think this is the weirdest think I've e'er done,” she whispered as she slowly took the grub from D'Arcy.
The fat thing wiggled between her fingers as she held it; she looked more closely at it and saw two beady black eyes; they seemed to be looking right at her.
“I canna dae this!” she moaned, she tried to hand it back, but D'Arcy wouldn't take it. He made eating motions.
Jessie screwed up her face, held her breath, and did whatever else she could think of to make it easier. She then looked at D'Arcy one last time and whispered, “'Tis yer fault if I die!” then she placed the grub in her mouth.
At first nothing happened, it just sat on her tongue. Then, it began to move around, and she almost choked. She could feel it crawling around inside her mouth, little feet on her tongue. She almost choked, but forced herself to remain clam. She decided not to chew it like D'Arcy did, but to swallow quickly. With one defiant gulp she swallowed, and nearly lost it.
She could feel it sliding all the way down, feet tickling her throat. Once it was down Jessie closed her eyes, and fought back the sick feeling in her gut. When she opened her eyes D'Arcy was grinning at her; at least he looked pleased. All Jessie could think of was how she had a grub wiggling about in her gut.
D'Arcy held the bowl out to her again, but Jessie knew without a doubt that she could not go through that again. Without a word she leaped up, and scrambled away to get a breath of fresh air; and tried not to loose her dinner-and the grub.
(Hazard on the High Seas; Book Five in the Marshall Family Adventures)
Jack is back! Say! I just rymed! I am cleaver :-D-sort of, I still can't spell :-P
Anyhow, someone said I should post again, can't remember who now, but I thought I would-so here it is! Enjoy, and leave my sardines alone!
The following is from book five in the Marshall Family Adventure books. It is en-titled Clues over the Containent, and is written by me :-D
Herr Dominic Sinermian leaned over the side of the ship, and let his tears mix with the salty water of the ocean. He tried to rebuke himself; he, a German, son of a Nazi captain, crying! What was his dad say if he could see him now? Dominic decided he didn't care.
Behind him, Dominic could hear the passengers in the dinning room. They were talking and laughing, enjoying their pleasure cruise, and their late night party. They had no idea of the danger he had brought upon them. If they did they would probably through him and his little black box over-board right then and there! However, if things went well, they would never have to know.
“Calm down!” Dominic hissed to himself. “They can not find you out here, it would be impossible! Everything is going to be fine!”
A cool wind washed over Dominic, and with it brought back the memories that were still so fresh on his mind. He could see them now, as if they were standing right there next to him. Karl and Dane'l would be carrying on another debate; their last one had been on which was better, fired or boiled fish. Willi would be trying to get in the middle of them.
Dominic had been the youngest of the four, and it was because of him that they had gone that night. It had all been his idea, and he had dragged them along with him. Everything that had happened to them was because of him. It was not something he could so easily forget.
Karl had been the leader of the four. Tall, bold, somewhat cocky; he was the oldest, and had a natural bossy attitude. Willi had all the brains. He was a tall, gangly boy who had liked to spend his evenings working out complicated math problems. Dane'l was the athletic one; he could jump farther then them, run longer, and move quicker, and he made sure they knew it.
Dominic was the tag along, the one who was trailed behind them and been an annoyance. However, over time, he had won their friendship, until the four of them had been inseparable.
I bet you all really thought I was dead and gone :D. But never fear, I am back! AND! I have a new story! Real surprise there I know, NOT! So how is everyone? Has RK been up to no good, (I already know the answer to that question :D) How are the pirates? And the cookies? And, and, everyone else? Come on, you'll have to fill me in now :D
Anyways, here's my story.
Ever yours,
Jack Baillot's Ghost
The wind was whispering around the rocks as the dark clouds moved in with the intent of covering everything in a fog. Callan knelt on the hard ground, his bow taunt as he held it in his hand. He was sighting down the arrow, waiting for the man to move into view. The muscles in his arms began to ache as he waited and he started to wonder how much longer he could hold his position.
“Wait until he is in your sights,” Callan's commander had ordered. “You canna risk missing Callan, not this time.”
Callan bit his bottom lip as the words rang through his head again. It wasn't like he missed often, his commander was just an old worry wort! Well Callan would show him! This time he would hit the man right in the heart! There would be no chance of the man living!
Something was stirring by the campfire. Callan focused all his attention on that spot now, ignoring the growing ache in his arms as he watched. Yes! It was as he had hoped! The man he had been waiting for was standing up, he was moving from out behind the group of men and coming Callan's way!
Callan felt his heart start to beat faster, his hands started to shake and sweat. He forced himself to remain calm, if he lost his control now there was no telling where the arrow might go! Pushing all else aside but his assignment Callan closed one eye and watched as the man walked into the cover of the rocks, right in front of the arrow.
Now! Callan released the string and the arrow sang through the air flying in a smooth arch. Callan watched as if flew toward its target, and embedded its self in the man's arm! The moan that escaped the young archer's lips would have been enough to give away his position had not the man suddenly howled at that moment. Instantly the rocks were swarming with men, all armed with cross bows.
Arrows filled the air as the wounded man was hurried into the cover of the rocks. Callan knew he had failed, he had forgotten to calculate the wind and therefore and lost his aim. Now his only thought was getting away without getting an arrow in his own heart. Quickly he moved backwards, hugging the shadows as he slipped into the rocks.
“There!” one of the men shouted and Callan could have kicked himself when he realized they must have seen him moving. That was another thing his commander had warned him about.
“The enemy most likely won't see you unless you move. No matter what, stay still until they are not looking, then slip away!” Callan heard the sharp words as he quickly moved backwards, there was no point in staying hidden now that he had been spotted.
The wind started to pick up as the men moved in on the young man. No longer whispering it started to howl and before the strangers had any idea of what was happening the clouds had settled over the mountain in a thick, dark fog. It was that fog that saved Callan's life. As the enemy stumbled about blindly Callan leaped to his feet and ran off, he knew his way around the mountains well enough, he did not need to see to know where to go and very soon he was well out of range.
Enters the room with head bowed and face red.
It has com to my attention that before my book is done, er Sybil's book, I shall be a dead man. Thank goodness I am already dead.
RK, Sybil is meaning nothing against you, this is a children's story that she is writing for fun, and rushing need I add. She is trying to get as many words done in so short a time, she does not have time to worry about all that now, please trust her on this. I have talked to her, she has this well planned. Please bear with her, the book will be edited, but for now it is just write without looking back. If you do she may take you out of the book, she is horribly nervous about this whole thing.
Jules, Sybil's views are old fashioned. She is not trying to add anything like romance, at all. She only...she told me to be careful when I wrote this. She is not meaning to offend you or anything, but anything she puts into her book, she promised when she started she was not going to add any romance, except where it is taken from some of the Inkling's books. She has an over bearing since of gallaenties, I mean I ought to know, being the only boy out of them all...and so, if it really disturbs you she will take it out when it is edited.
As for everyone else. She has asked me to ask you to please trust her. She is trying hard to keep you all within your character while weaving you all into this book. It has not been easy and she is very thankful you even let her put you in. However she is trying to do a great many things at once, and if you, not pester, but keep coming after her, it discourages her. She has some really great ideas, and she would be very thankful if you trusted her with this and when the book is done, then you can come after her with swords.
Sybil: *Peeks into the room* Is it safe Jack?
Jack: Come back later, once I am sure. Please guys, dont have her head just yet, give her a chance?
Jack Lewis's Ghost and his sardines
Just a quick note, if I vanish for the month of Novemeber I am not dead, er any deader then I already am. I am writing, a lot, in fact I am writing every moment I have the chance. If you want to see my book and read all about yourselves, here is the link.
Don't hit me if I got you wrong. And please find out who Spy is for me, I have no time to guess, he said he would reveal himself at the end of the month, because I put him in my book :D. Anyhow, that is all, RK, I did not put sardines in your chair, I would put them in your boots before I did your chair!
*Trips in door and glares at Jules* When are you going to learn to pick up your swords.
Someone has ordered me to invite OutlawedPrincess, I am afraid I do not have time, so whoever it was feel free to invite her and any other writers you know.
Also I am starting my book next week, I will post parts so you can all see how you look in a book, RK you had better be nice to me or I shall find great pleasure in cruely tomenting you in the book! And you forget one important fact, YOU brought up the sardines, not me!
Now if you toss another long on the fire I shall read you the next part of my story, as I know you have all been dying to hear, me more then anyone else, the dying i mean :D
Ever yours, Jack Lewis's Ghost and her sardines
P.S. This is a random part from the book, not chapter two.
Nate ran his hand through his red hair and leaned forward in his chair. He looked closely at the man across from him. He was tall, gangly, and for the most part looked like a computer geek as Jessie would put it; however his features were much to sharp. That and he wore a permanent scowl. So, this was the man who may have the missing key to finding the sword.
“I hear you caused quite a disturbance in my castle,” George Alderson laced his fingers together, rested his elbows on his legs, and gazed long and hard at Nate.
Nate felt a flush creep up his neck. What was he supposed to do? Deny it? What was there to deny? Creeping out the window, scaring a maid, annoying the butler, crashing into Mr. Alderson’s brother while sliding down a banister? Face it Nate, you are guilty!
Nate wondered how he was going to get out of this one, imagine it, being arrested for a supposed break in, murder, escape, and admitted breaking a man’s neck all in one day. That had to be a record of some sort, many he would get his name entered into the book of world records. Mr. Alderson was still studying Nate.
“I have heard of you,” He said finally as he broke the gaze and sat back in his chair. “Yes I have heard much of you Dr. Nathan Marshall.”
Nate wanted to sink into the chair’s cushions, what exactly had this man heard about him?
The man forced a smile on his lips as he said, “You seem to have a guilty conscious Dr.”
Nate ran his hand through his hair again and said more to himself, “More like an unnatural ability of getting into dangerous situations.”
The man stood abruptly, clasped his hands behind his back, and started to pace, crossing the room in long, swift strides. “From what I have heard you have, so far, taken on tomb robbers and stopped a mad man from killing a town full of innocent bystanders.”
Nate wasn’t sure what to say and so stammered, “Well, Jeremy did help me stop the tomb robbers, and it was more Sam and Jessie who stopped the Red Baron.”
The man turned swiftly and cast his screeching gaze on Nate. Nate slumped a bit in his chair again. “You do not give yourself enough credit Dr. Marshall,” Mr. Alderson finally said. “Any man who can climb across a ledge to escape a library must be a man of remarkable abilities.”
Mr. Alderson sat again, crossed his ankles, laced his fingers, leaned forward, and said, “Come, tell me about yourself Dr.”
***
Jessie knelt before the door, ear pressed to the crack, listening intently. Jack stood above her, trying to keep still, but was constantly shifting his feet. Jessie finally hissed at him, telling him to hush.
“I can’t hush!” Jack moaned as he knelt beside her. “They have been in there for a half hour!”
Jessie shook her head. “I haena heard anything though.”
Jack pressed his ear close to hers. “No sword fighting?”
“Nothing,” Jessie whispered. “Ye dinna suppose he uses poison?”
“He owns a castle; poison definitely has to be considered.”
When Mr. Alderson’s brother had taken Nate up to see George Alderson Jessie and Jack had been ordered to wait in the hall, after an half hour of waiting they had taken up listening at the door, thus passing another half of an hour.
Jessie moved back and looked at Jack who looked grave. “We should run in there and save him,” Jessie said.
Jack leaned back, rocking on his heals. Without thought his hand went to the dagger at his side and he said, “Are you with me?”
“He’s my brother,” Jessie said with a hint of gallantries. “O’ course I’m wi’ ye.”
They both stood up and Jack reached for the door handle, turned it, and shoved the door in, it didn’t hit the wall as they were expecting. Instead it hit something soft, swung back, and whacked Jack on the head. He staggered backwards and stepped on Jessie’s feet, causing them both to fall backwards to the floor.
Nate stood over them with a look of bewilderment while Mr. Alderson rubbed his chest where the door had hit him. “Let me guess?” Nate asked as his eyes landed on the dagger. “My rescue party?”
PLEASE READ BELOW!!! I ADDED SOMETHING I NEED YOU ALL TO FILL OUT!!!!
Jack' Ghost here. I am sorry I am not posting a book, but this is an emergency!! I am having NaNoWriMo plot troubles...I have too many ideas. However I would love use the things from here for the book, I don;t have a plot yet, am working on that, however first I have to have all your concent. May I mention your penames and characteristics in my book, if you would rather I didn't that is fine, but PLEASE LET ME KNOW SOON!!
Okay, I got 15 days, I need things FAST.
Please please fill out this list
Name you want to be referd too
Can I write you as I think of you, even though I may be off?
Will it offened anyone if I make them different then they are, by acadent?
Hair and eye color
One quirk that makes you stand out, Mari's is world domination *Grins*
Talkitive or shy?
Favorite character you made, can I use him, name you would lke him to go by
Can I even use you in my book?
Main lesson you learned on friendship
hardest writing struggle
Someone had to post, give us something to talk about other then sardines and Scott's imprisonment! Here is more from my adventerous book, Peril with the Pirates.
C.S. Lewis and her sardines
Same day, At Sea
Black storm clouds covered the moon and stars, blocking out their faint light. A chill wind picked up, blowing over the lonely ship as it rocked on the gentle waves. On board the ship most of the crew were being lured into a deep sleep in the rocking ship, little knowing the storm that was hanging over their heads.
A light rain started to fall, only to quickly turn into a gale. The wind picked up, the waves became choppy, lighting lit the sky and the thunder seemed loud enough to split the ship in two. No sooner had the storm broken upon them then the cry was raised of, “ALL HANDS ON DECK!”
Sailors came scrambling up the hatchway. Some where yanking on coats and others where stumbling into their boots. A wave washed over the ship, threatening to take some of the crew with it. The men clung to anything within reach and waited until the wave washed over the other side of the ship.
“Lower the main sail before it is ripped off!” The captain yelled over the wind.
The next moment Jack Patterson was climbing the rigging, struggling hard to keep his grip in the violent storm. A wave came up over the ship again, on Jack's left, and caught him off guard. Without warning he felt his hands yanked from the rigging. Jack tried to find something else he could grab onto, the water spun him around, and disoriented him so that he no longer knew which way was up or down.
Jack knew he was going to be swept over the side of the ship, and cruelly tossed into the raging sea. Just when he was certain there was no more hope he felt a pair of strong arms grab him and pull him out of the water.
Jack blinked salt water from his eye and looked up into the grinning face of the first mate. “Whaur d’ ye think ye be goin' Jacky boy?” The huge Scots man yelled above the storm, “We'll hae nae desertion on this ship, especially during a storm!”
McLeod, the Scots man, was clinging to the rigging with one arm, and holding onto Jack's waste with the other. He did not let go until Jack had regained his footing on the rigging. Jack grinned at his friend and together the two began to make their way to the main mast.
“Caught ye on the left side did it?” McLeod asked as the two climbed.
Jack nodded his head, and continued his climb. The ropes whipped about in the wind; needless to say this did not help anything. The rain drenched Jack, McLeod, and the ropes and the two nearly lost their grips more then once. However, getting to the main sail was nothing compared to getting it in. It flapped in the wind with such force it could have easily knocked Jack and McLeod to the deck, or worse, the ragging sea.
“I have it!” Jack yelled as he tugged the sail in.
Together the English boy and the Scottish man secured the mast and then began their perilous climb down. They had not made it far when another wave swept up over the ship, only this time it was McLeod who was swept off the rigging.
Jack watched in horror as his friend was swept toward the hungry sea. “MCLEOD!” Jack yelled, before another wave hit him, filling his mouth with water and sweeping him after his friend.
I skipped a part because it is going to be changed, but here is more, enjoy!
A few weeks earlier, some where in England
“Sir Edmund was the best knight the king had. He was brave, fearless, an exultant swordsman, in fact he was probably just one inch away from being perfect, except for his temper and bad table manners. Anyways, he was nearly unbeatable with the sword, though many claim this had more to do with the sword itself then with the man who wielded it.
“The sword was one of a kind, Scottish made…”
“Scottish?”
“Aye Scottish, you heard me!”
“I thought he was English.”
“He was!”
“Then why did he have a Scottish sword? Wouldn’t that be like a Confederate have a Yankee gun in the Civil War?”
“Nae, it would not be like that, now are you going to let me tell this story or not?”
“Go right ahead, I was just wondering why an English dude had a Scottish sword, and what happened to your accent.”
“Scotland makes better swords, so there! And I didn’t want to confuse you by using an accent.”
“As though using an accent could confuse me any more then I already am?”
“Will you just hush up?”
Silence, then, “Now as I was saying, many believed this wonderful Scottish sword was indeed magic. It was a long sword, very heavy; many say Sir Edmund was the only one who could pick it up…”
“If that was true the king could not have given it away because he would not have been able to pick it up…”
A smoldering gaze from the storyteller hushed the listen instantly. “Anyways, as I was saying, again! The sword was very long, on one side of it there was written, ‘For God and country,’ and on the other side, ‘For home and family,’ both writings were in Gaelic…”
“No surprise there…” This time the listener received a slap on the arm.
“Well, one day England was invaded, not by an enemy that boldly stormed the country and met the king battle, no it was invaded by a bunch of cowards who came in by night with the intent of killing the king in his bed…”
“They were probably Scots, sore at the king because he stole their sword…”
Whack! “Now hush up or I will find some duct tape! Anyways, as these men were sneaking about the castle someone saw them and raised the alarm. Sir Edmund rushed to his king’s side as the other knights searched the castle for the invaders. Sir Edmund locked the king and himself in the king’s private chambers, instructing the king to hide somewhere Sir Edmund stood guard at the door.
“How long he stood there he was not sure, but very soon it seemed there was a pounding at the door and a harsh voice yelling, ‘Open up!’”
“Oh that was smart! ‘Open up so we can kill you!’ Like any king would be that dense!”
“Now we agree on something! Anyways Sir Edmund just smiled and yelled back, ‘I will when I wake up, it is night you know and I am trying to sleep.’ This did not make the men at the door happy…”
“Duh!”
“And they pounded louder and yelled loud enough to wake all of England.”
“That would have been a good thing; someone could have come and helped.”
“Hush. Sir Edmund drew his sword; he grasped the hilt that had the image of a snake, done in gold, twisting up it, the eyes were inlaid rubies. He took a deep breath, and watched as twenty men knocked the door in and came running in. Sir Edmund smiled when he saw them, and they laughed when they saw the lone Englishman with his sword. They said…”
“We’re Scots! Now give us our sword back!”
“If you really don’t want me to finish I won’t…”
“No! I mean go ahead, I will be quiet.”
“Thank you. Anyways they looked at Sir Edmund and said, ‘Today you will die, and after you your king!’ Sir Edmund did not even bat an eye as he met them. The fight was long and you may think one sided but Sir Edmund held his own. Though he received many wounds he kept on fighting, and in the end the twenty men lay dead at his feet.
“Sir Edmund was spent however, he fell to his knees, unable to stand from lose of blood. He could hear the other knights in other parts of the castle yelling, ‘They flee! After them!’ Satisfied that his king was now safe, Sir Edmund fell over and died right there, with his sword still clasped in his hand.”
The listener was struck silent, much to the story teller’s delight. “All of England grieved Sir Edmund’s death, but none as much as the king. He had him buried in the castle’s own grounds were only royalty was buried. His sword was kept in the castle’s treasure chamber. Until the reign of King Charles.
“Charles’s son was to marry a maiden from Spain, a governor’s or something, to bring peace and trade between Spain and England. However when she finally came the prince changed his mind on marrying her. So to keep peace Charles gave her many gifts, including the sword, England’s most prized possession in an attempt to keep peace. However, right off the coast of England the princess’s ship was attacked by the pirate Red Jones the Terrible.
“Jones found the sword aboard the ship and rather then kidnap some Spanish girl and hold her for ransom he took England’s most prized possession. He intended to flee for a time and then return and offer the sword back to Charles, for a price. However, when he return to England he was met by The Phantom, a man who hunted pirates, he wore a mask and no one knew who he really was.
“The Phantom had no clue that Jones possessed the sword, and so he attacked his ship, and sunk him. As Jones’s ship was going down he ran up to the bow and shaking his fist at the Phantom yelled, ‘Ye think ye’ve won? I have Sir Edmund’s sword aboard me ship!’
“When the Phantom heard this he jumped in the ocean to try and get the sword but it was too late. As the waves swallowed the ship Jones yelled, ‘If ever anyone comes for the sword me ghost will haunt him the rest o’ his days!’
“Then the waves passed over his ship, pulling it and the crew and the sword down. And so the sword was lost, never to be seen again many believed.” The story teller lowered her voice to a sad whisper as she finished her tale.
“So what your saying is, we are supposed to go find a magical Scottish sword which some dude used to save a king’s life only to die in the end and have his sword given to some girl as a sign of peace because some prince chickened out on his wedding day and his dad didn’t want war?” Jeremy, the listener, asked.
“Aye, basically, but my version was better,” Jessie said as she rolled her eyes.
