• Hello Guest, the Post-Trespasser timeline is open to all characters now. If you want to play your DA:O/DA2 timeline characters in the Post-Trespasser timeline, please check out the thread below. It will give you all the information you need to get up and running in no time:

    Getting your DA:O/DA2 Character ready for Post-Trespasser!

Walk The Prank [Closed]


Prominent member
Canon Character
DAO/DA2 Timeline
Celeste was stone-cold, balls-out crazy sometimes, and that was precisely why Isabela was friends with her. As she straight up dropped herself into the arms of the yelling crew below her, she whooped, and Isabela roared with laughter at the exasperated expressions of the crew. As for her? She grabbed a rope and jumped, swinging herself across the deck before spinning in a ball and landing in Gideon’s arms. He was clearly unimpressed to have been used as a landing mattress twice in quick succession, but any protest was cut off by a quick kiss. She sprang out of his arms and towards her own men.

“Alright, yer swabs! We’ve got a prize idiot on the way who thinks we’re easy pickin’s. We thought, rather than scare-sing them away, we’ll give them a nasty surprise. Mr Adams, Ms Molley, and Mr Szari, make like you’re just a bunch of happy, cheerful merchants!”

The three designated to decoy duty were good at it, and the three of them were quick to hide their weapons below various artfully designed pieces of clothing that would look a lot more expensive through a telescope than they did up close. The three of them stood together as though they were gossiping, while the others blended into the background as regular members of the crew.

The cabin girl on Celeste’s ship had been ordered below decks, and Isabela stepped back a little from anywhere that she might be seen. She was supposed to be notorious, after all, and if the rapidly nearing ship spotted her they might turn about and ruin the fun.

At the right moment, her crew reacted as though they’d just seen the ship heading for them, and a carefully arranged sort of chaos broke out. For all intents, it was as though the ‘merchant’ ships were trying to detangle from each other so they could flee, but were doing a disorganised job of it.
The other ship came at them quick, turning smoothly in the water as several grappling hooks were thrown their way. Good helmsman on them, which was about all could be said for it. From her hiding spot, Isabela tsked to Celeste. “Look at the state of them all!”

The ship was clearly in dire need of repairs, some of them fairly basic in nature, speaking of a crew that was either inept or – worse – simply didn’t care. And while a liberal coating of general grime was expected, quite often the sea took care of the job of giving you a wash now and again even if you didn’t bother to anything. These people were dedicatedly dirty. “Don’t bite. You might get the plague.”

“Merchants!” A man on the deck of the other ship had stepped forward. He was a large sort, and carried a sword in one hand and a crossbow in the either. He was grinning, which didn’t make for a pleasant sight at all. “My name is Captain Tarquin Urquhart Callow.” Three names, clearly a dick. Nobody good was ever called ‘Tarquin’. “No need to be afraid. Just hand over your valuables and we might not kill all of you.” He cackled. “Some might get to join our little pleasure boat! I like the look of you,” he added, directed at Kali.

Isabela could barely suppress her glee. This guy had it coming.

Celeste Monroe

Shenaniginstigator In Chief
DAO/DA2 Timeline
One-upmanship was as much a part of their friendship as drinking, so when Celeste simply dropped into Gideon’s reliable (if less than pleased) arms, Isabela had to top it with an acrobatic swing and tumble to the same destination. The first mate accepted the kiss of thanks, then ducked into the galley as Bela turned to address her crew.

“Alright, yer swabs! We’ve got a prize idiot on the way who thinks we’re easy pickin’s. We thought, rather than scare-sing them away, we’ll give them a nasty surprise. Mr Adams, Ms Molley, and Mr Szari, make like you’re just a bunch of happy, cheerful merchants!”

Obviously not the first time they’d utilized this particular ploy: the crew of the Siren’s Call immediately settled into their assigned roles as frantic crew and clueless merchants as the pirate ship angled in.

“You heard her,” Celeste called to her own people. “Let’s draw them in. Kali, Sorcha, Piotr, you’re the bait.” Even in her deck rags, Kalindra could project a haughty air that screamed ‘wealth’, while the two elves would be assumed to be her servants. Kali immediately began fluttering about on deck with Sorcha and Piotr in attendance as the rest of the crew feigned a desperate and clumsy effort to separate the two ships.

Celeste joined Isabela in the concealment of the aftercastle. “Look at the state of them all!” the pirate murmured in disgust, and Celeste nodded. The ship had once been a proud one; you could see it in her lines, but the bastards who sailed her now had let her go and badly. Her sails were tattered and patched; her rigging so sloppy that any attempt to quickly adjust the sails would end in a hopeless tangle of line, and the deck was cluttered with refuse that the crew had evidently been too lazy to even pitch over the rail. Said crew were in no better state: their clothes filthy and ill-fitting finery that had undoubtedly been stolen and was eminently unsuited to deck work, and the scent that the prevailing winds carried was beyond ripe. Even a occasional sodding bucket bath would have taken care of it. Rank amateurs at sailing; likely some fucking raiders who had managed to seize a ship.

“Don’t bite,” Isabela warned her as grappling hooks flew, attaching to the rails on the Grace’s free side, and a closer look showed the pirates to be even filthier than the clothes that they wore. “You might get the plague.”

Celeste grunted, anger simmering toward a boil in her belly. She’d had more than her fill of bastards like these the past few weeks: preying on folk fleeing the demons and fighting, taking what little they had left, maybe even taking them to sell into slavery or worse. Thoughts of Nicolette at the nonexistent mercy of these sorts haunted her even worse than the damn demons. “I need at least one alive for questioning.” The odds were long that they’d have any answers, and if they did, she wasn’t going to like them, but she had to know.

“Merchants!” A burly man in a tattered velvet coat, the gilt trim unraveling at the sleeves and neck, gave them a predator’s smile that displayed all four of his teeth. “My name is Captain Tarquin Urquhart Callow.” In spite of herself, Celeste snorted.

“Crossbow’s not even cocked,” she murmured to Bela contemptuously, hands settling on the hilts of her daggers, her eyes taking stock of the opposition. No other crossbows; the rest of the crew brandished cutlasses, swords and daggers that were as indifferently maintained as the ship. They likely did well enough against unarmed farmers and townsfolk.

“No need to be afraid,” he went on. “Just hand over your valuables and we might not kill all of you. Some might get to join our little pleasure boat!” he added with an ugly laugh, his greedy eyes lighting on Kalindra. “I like the look of you.”

“Please, Captain Tallow,” Kali simpered as Sorcha and Piotr cowered behind her. “You can have our cargo. Just let us go!” Celeste tensed, watching and waiting as the crew secured their sad wreck of a ship alongside the Wicked Grace.

Not yet. Not … yet. She didn’t want them getting away.


Prominent member
Canon Character
DAO/DA2 Timeline
Oh, this was a sorrowful lot of malcontents. One of Isabela’s many rules of piracy was that if you wanted to roam the waves and do a bit of plundering, you needed a damn bit of style. Why rob people if you weren’t going to spend the money on yourself? Even the captain, dressed as he was in finery, was all ragged at the edges. Isabela clicked her tongue. Any seaman worth their salt could use a needle. That was just lazy.
Celeste was muttering contemptuously alongside her, although she did have one instruction; at least one left alive. In the past they’d clashed a bit over what was considered a necessary level of violence, but judging by that remark she wasn’t feeling too merciful. “You got it.”

‘Alive’ had a lot of degrees to it, after all.

Up front, Kali was playing the part of shivering wimp to perfection. “Please, Captain Tallow. You can have our ship. Just let us go!”

The man swaggered forward, his men crawling over the rails. In Isabela’s position, she’d have had two rats up in the sails, bows or slings ready to rain down some hell, and a couple of archers further back. There was no sign of strategy whatsoever to this lot. They all seemed to be coming at once. Heh.

Kali was backing up, and Adams, Molley and Szari were fluttering about like a bunch of overfed pigeons realising there was a cat amongst them. The invading crew were eyeing them greedily, and calling out casual threats to the few crew members that had remained on deck. If this was actually real, Isabela knew that these louts would have no compunction with murdering absolutely everybody on board they didn’t intend to capture, and right now were simply toying with their food.

Tallow had swaggered his way onto the deck of the Wicked Grace, and with a nod two of his cronies moved to flank Kali and the others. Just a bit further…

As soon as he was far enough on that he couldn’t just throw himself back over the rail, Isabela lifted her blade up, the sunlight catching it. Immediately, four of her men raced along the side, blocking off any chance of retreat. She then stood up, turning her daggers lazily in her hands, grinning. “Well, hello boys.”

At the sound of a female voice, the captain turned about, still smirking; then it dropped off his face immediately. His mouth opened, his hand lifted to gesture wildly in her direction, and Isabela bellowed. “NOW!”

The two men who had been trying to surround Kali, Sorcha and Piotr were dead before they even realised what was happening. Isabela leapt over into the fray as carnage erupted, laughing as the first person she came up against folded like wet parchment. It was good to be the Queen of the Eastern Seas – people shit themselves before she so much as stabbed them.

“Keep the captain alive!” She bellowed over the sounds of clashing metal. “Everyone else can feed the sharks!” She didn’t much care if they surrendered; once they’d established themselves as possible slavers or rapists, they were chum.