Dartho (not based on my old RPG)

Sir Benjamin the Lion said:
*thinks of a demented evil villian who will kill Sammy or Tabitha:eek:.* :p

Shoot! I'm about to go to bed too. :p
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lol....im not a sicko. When my characters die...it will be when you least expect it, not when you expect it.

Anyway, no, not a vilian, we have the mysterious "shadow" that seemed to be following Tabitha for that.

lol, dun worry. I won't post the next up until tottyfruity and gentlesusan have read this....And it takes me a while to organize my head for this anyway.
 
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Haha but even if she was 10 she would still know about shadows and stuff like that, but I suppose in her case not having had any education she would be dumb to things like that.

E.T. Its him I tell ya! :p
I have no clue. Maybe its the gentleman lol. I really want this guy to ocme back :p Or it could be Ben. My two fave characters not including Tabitha.
 
SimonW said:
lol....I try.

(Chapter 4, part 3)

Tabitha glanced back down the dirt path, a sea of darkness ahead with a faint smell of musk from the sewage behind her.
Walking forward, Tabitha felt the ground beneath her cold feet. It felt slightly moist, obviously there was moist because of the rain from topside had cascaded down and been sucked down into the lower-levels of London.
Without looking back, Tabitha continued forward into the darkness, the only light visible was from the lanterns on the ground and even that did not really help to improve the dimly lit tunnel.
Tabitha knew Sammy was behind her, she could hear his footsteps behind hers. He was keeping a safe distance, in case he needed to be on lookout duty again at the front door.
After walking for several minutes, Tabitha had found out that the tunnel had widened, she had no fear of touching the dirty and moss-covered walls.
Tabitha heard a distant sound ahead, it was faint at first, but as she drew closer to the end of the tunnel, the sound was a lot clearer.
It sounded like a person was humming gently, an odd little melody that wafted upon a breeze that chilled Tabitha as it by-passed her.
Shivering slightly, Tabitha stopped, halting slightly by the coldness that overswept her.
Glancing at the walls, Tabitha could see the flickering shadows appear to dance, having no real form as they swayed in the dimly-lit passageway by the flame in a solitary lantern.
"Oi! What be the 'oldup?" asked Sammy Gibb as he caught upto Tabitha and stood behind her.
Tabitha did not reply, she had barely heard Sammy. Tabitha was enraptured by the figureless shadows that appeared to dance to the person's humming that came from up ahead.
In all honesty, the shadows were flickering to the flame from the candle-lit lantern, but Tabitha had no notion of this because of one thing, she was only ten years old.

(to be continued....)

Next part, Tabitha shall meet the mysterious stranger.... Who (or what) will it be?
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:eek:!!!!

Ohhhhh...this is gettin' goooooood!!! Well, better.:D
Ach, Sammy and Ben. The best way to go. If Sammy isn't there, Ben is.:D
 
tottyfruitty said:
Haha but even if she was 10 she would still know about shadows and stuff like that, but I suppose in her case not having had any education she would be dumb to things like that.

E.T. Its him I tell ya! :p
I have no clue. Maybe its the gentleman lol. I really want this guy to ocme back :p Or it could be Ben. My two fave characters not including Tabitha.
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lol, she isn't stupid. Maybe she has more of an active imagination then you do. :p

lol...you shall see. You shall all see.

(Chapter 4, Part 4)

Tabitha remained rigid for a few minutes until Sammy's words had sinked into her mind.
Without speaking, Tabitha began to move slowly forward once more, trying to ignore the dancing shadows upon the walls.
She found herself at the end of the tunnel, where it widened out into an inner sanctum, a chamber of sorts. There was a faint smell of flowers in the air that made Tabitha feel sleepy for some reason.

In a dark cobblestone corner was a small living area, a few dirty rags on the floor.
Next to the rags was a small inkwell with a feather dipped into it. Some sheets of parchment were scattered around the small area.
The room was small, but looked sturdy enough, it's ceiling a mass of pipes with a few shrivelled roots from long dead trees.
Sammy Gibb entered the room behind Tabitha, he merely leaned against the wall of the cave.
A solitary lantern was lit near the inkwell, the face of the humming man Tabitha had wanted to see was bathed in the lamplight.
He was an old man, scruffy with rags covering his feeble body. But, he also wore a heavy overcoat which looked dusty and well-worn.
The man was wearing a monocle, a streak of light making it gleam despite the fact it was rather grimy looking.
The man's face was a kindly one, his grey beard with unevenly cut into a goatee.
He glanced over at Tabitha, lifting his withered hand to his monocle to readjust it. He had stopped humming.
"Ah, you have come at last," stated the old man.
His voice was kindly yet wavered when he talked, it would not be as strong as it was when he was younger. His accent was that of a higher English gentleman, but was also coarse enough so as to not be able to fool the upper classmen themselves of his rather common background.
Tabitha had felt glad to see him. The Illustrator was well-known in the underground section of orphans. He was the one who taught them to read and write, to spell and think beyond what they could have imagined possible.
And more then that, he was a common criminal.

(End Of Chapter 4)
 
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SimonW said:
lol, she isn't stupid. Maybe she has more of an active imagination then you do. :p

lol...you shall see. You shall all see.

(Chapter 4, Part 4)

Tabitha remained rigid for a few minutes until Sammy's words had sinked into her mind.
Without speaking, Tabitha began to move slowly forward once more, trying to ignore the dancing shadows upon the walls.
She found herself at the end of the tunnel, where it widened out into an inner sanctum, a chamber of sorts. There was a faint smell of flowers in the air that made Tabitha feel sleepy for some reason.

In a dark cobblestone corner was a small living area, a few dirty rags on the floor.
Next to the rags was a small inkwell with a feather dipped into it. Some sheets of parchment were scattered around the small area.
The room was small, but looked sturdy enough, it's ceiling a mass of pipes with a few shrivelled roots from long dead trees.
Sammy Gibb entered the room behind Tabitha, he merely leaned against the wall of the cave.
A solitary lantern was lit near the inkwell, the face of the humming man Tabitha had wanted to see was bathed in the lamplight.
He was an old man, scruffy with rags covering his feeble body. But, he also wore a heavy overcoat which looked dusty and well-worn.
The man was wearing a monocle, a streak of light making it gleam despite the fact it was rather grimy looking.
The man's face was a kindly one, his grey beard with unevenly cut into a goatee.
He glanced over at Tabitha, lifting his withered hand to his monocle to readjust it. He had stopped humming.
"Ah, you have come at last," stated the old man.
His voice was kindly yet wavered when he talked, it would not be as strong as it was when he was younger. His accent was that of a higher English gentleman, but was also coarse enough so as to not be able to fool the upper classmen themselves of his rather common background.
Tabitha had felt glad to see him. The Illustrator was well-known in the underground section of orphans. He was the one who taught them to read and write, to spell and think beyond what they could have imagined possible.
And more then that, he was a common criminal.

(End Of Chapter 4)
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A criminal?:eek: Almost what I was thinking. :p
 
Haha well I was way off :p

Thanx Alex! My imagination is fine for your information :p

He's a nice criminal though, I think..............

Keep it coming Simon.
 
A criminal?? Sounds like Ben...:D
Oh, wait. I meant the demented villian...:p

IT IS REALLY GOOD!!

Geez, Mya. Demanding, aren't we??
But she has a point. Keep it coming...:p
 
Sir Benjamin the Lion said:
*cough* The demented villian is more like you, Carz, considering you're the one on crack. :p
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lol...yeppers. lol, no offence Carz.


GeNtLe SuSaN said:
A criminal?? Sounds like Ben...:D
Oh, wait. I meant the demented villian...:p

IT IS REALLY GOOD!!

Geez, Mya. Demanding, aren't we??
But she has a point. Keep it coming...:p
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lol...at your request....here is the rest....lol.


Chapter 5: The Illustrator's Dream....

But, the orphans did not care, he was simply The Illustrator to them. Allways has, allways will be.
Tabitha watched as the old man dressed in the pale robe had stood up from his corner. She could almost hear those old bones creak from where she stood.
Walking towards Tabitha, The Illustrator, formally known as Leroy Currey, had a smile upon his face, which made the whole room appear slightly brighter from Tabitha's eyes.
The Illustrator was a kind man who had educated Tabitha when she was only five. Tabitha was like a granddaughter to him, being the only child who was fully capable of looking after herself.
Tabitha had often wondered what had made a man like that become reduced to living in the sewers. She was told by a boy called Fred Jenkins when she was eight that The Illustrator was a criminal on the run. He had apparently been a book-keeper and did a swindle on his taxes. The Illustrator was caught, but had fled custody by running down an alleyway after jumping out of the police coach.
Tabitha was enthralled by the man's history with the police, she was very inquisative even at that age. Which was more then could be said by other orphans in The Illustrator's care. They just knew he was there, but had never questioned WHY he was there or in actual fact WHO he was.
To them, he was just a kind old gentlemen whom looked after them.
Tabitha had been thinking all this as The Illustrator walked towards her, dragging his left leg behind him. His left foot was practiclly lame, it was so much diseased with numbness that The Illustrator could not feel anything in it, he merely scraped it along behind him as he walked.

(To be continued)
 
lol...good idea. I'll "memo" it.:D

(Chapter 5, Part 2)

The Illustrator's leg scraped along the ground as he walked over to Tabitha.
She had not seen him for months, but he looked as tired and old as he ever looked.
"I was about to give up hope," stated The Illustrator as he stopped walking, standing a few inches from Tabitha's face.
"Hope is what defines us, sir," replied Tabitha, having memorised what she was taught by this great man.
The Illustrator chuckled slightly, if one could call it a chuckle. It was raspy and faultering, The Illustrator having not laughed for seven years. Not since his knowledge of his real daughter's death in the newspapers.
"You have not forgotten me," he stated sagely, reaching out and patting Tabitha on her head with his bony hand.
This was the only gesture of affection The Illustrator did to those few children whom he thought were different then the rest of the almost-empty vessels that lay in the waste of London's sewerage.
He never harmed them nor reprimanded them, for the top world people did that enough to the poor souls whom had gotten in their way. High society was not a very caring one, despite the advantages of having money, it made one black and cold on the inside.
Taking his hand from Tabitha's head, The Illustrator turned and started hobbling back to his corner, talking as he did.
"Come, child. I have a thing that should interest you," he muttered to Tabitha as he was walking away.
Tabitha obeyed, walking forward. Any gift from The Illustrator was a good gift. At times it was a book, other times it was an extra piece of clothing, but only for those that were attentive in The Illlustrator's lessons.
The Illustrator bent down, hiis old bones creaking as he thumbed through his pieces of parchment, the monocle glinting in the lamplight once more.

(To be continued)
 
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GeNtLe SuSaN said:
That was good!
Okay...G'night!!

Ben, my accomplishments do not extend that far, but thank you for your praise. :p
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lol...I posted that about going to bed last night. Just letting you know. I'm staying on. :D

Glad I have not (as yet) made this good story become bad.
 
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