Post by Carl Morris on Jul 19, 2008 10:40:07 GMT
Staggering into the tavern, out of the sea mist, Cap'n Morris walks slowly over to the bar, his wooden leg echoing out loudly as it struck the wooden boards of the tavern floor.
"A bottle o Morgan's Finest" He tells the barman as he looks up.
Taking the oppend bottle, he knocks back his head and takes a large slug of rum, drainng a third of the contnts in the one go.
"Arr, there was a sure need for that. Feed ha been done on those waves this morn tha no man but a devil could cleave through victorius.
Fortunatly for me crew, I be that devil, and the the Frog's I sent to the sharks 'll be a testifying to tha, for any man cares to ask em."
Not getting any response, Carl takes another swig of rum, then contiunes his tale.
"Aye, young Jake, oh the Crimson Blades, sailing his Finly Crafted Raa Frigate, and the lads an I in our Wild Cat, the Refit Polacre. Came across a flottila o them French chaps out in the vast, between Havana and Tampico.
You should o seen us, the two of us verses teir eight. Wild Cat ran rings round em, slicing their hands from the rigging, and young jake, his cannons was hotter than hades.
4 of em had gone under, but the flag o thier admirl was still flying, so young Jake, he led three o em off in a merry exchange of fire, and I broke out the arms, and through hooks over the flagship.
Ee, there were some mean deeds done on that deck, fought like the hounds o hell were on em those frogs, and that there was. The lads hewed em hard, and those decks were a cloged with the dieing, and the sea bubbling with the sharks thrashing to get at the blood, as it poured like rivers off the deck.
Aye, bye the close of it, ther was only 5 men standing, my mate and the cabin lad, and two foul stinking cures sheltering that french officer.
Ah, i'd ;ve gien em quater if they'd 've bacaked down, but wasn't till the last man fell that he handed up his sword.
"Too late for that Mister" I said, and heaved him over the deck.
Took long enough sorting our living lads from the cadarvers, but there's a fine doc aboard, and he managed to patch up enough o the crew to get us ita port.
Ahh, but it was a fine action that, every one of my lads that made it to port, i've put a bag o gold in his hand. Aye, if you listen out, you can hear em having their fun over road."
"A bottle o Morgan's Finest" He tells the barman as he looks up.
Taking the oppend bottle, he knocks back his head and takes a large slug of rum, drainng a third of the contnts in the one go.
"Arr, there was a sure need for that. Feed ha been done on those waves this morn tha no man but a devil could cleave through victorius.
Fortunatly for me crew, I be that devil, and the the Frog's I sent to the sharks 'll be a testifying to tha, for any man cares to ask em."
Not getting any response, Carl takes another swig of rum, then contiunes his tale.
"Aye, young Jake, oh the Crimson Blades, sailing his Finly Crafted Raa Frigate, and the lads an I in our Wild Cat, the Refit Polacre. Came across a flottila o them French chaps out in the vast, between Havana and Tampico.
You should o seen us, the two of us verses teir eight. Wild Cat ran rings round em, slicing their hands from the rigging, and young jake, his cannons was hotter than hades.
4 of em had gone under, but the flag o thier admirl was still flying, so young Jake, he led three o em off in a merry exchange of fire, and I broke out the arms, and through hooks over the flagship.
Ee, there were some mean deeds done on that deck, fought like the hounds o hell were on em those frogs, and that there was. The lads hewed em hard, and those decks were a cloged with the dieing, and the sea bubbling with the sharks thrashing to get at the blood, as it poured like rivers off the deck.
Aye, bye the close of it, ther was only 5 men standing, my mate and the cabin lad, and two foul stinking cures sheltering that french officer.
Ah, i'd ;ve gien em quater if they'd 've bacaked down, but wasn't till the last man fell that he handed up his sword.
"Too late for that Mister" I said, and heaved him over the deck.
Took long enough sorting our living lads from the cadarvers, but there's a fine doc aboard, and he managed to patch up enough o the crew to get us ita port.
Ahh, but it was a fine action that, every one of my lads that made it to port, i've put a bag o gold in his hand. Aye, if you listen out, you can hear em having their fun over road."