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Edward_Thatch
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Subject: A little story...

The yelling and music is getting louder and louder as you meander down the fire lit street towards the tavern. It has been a long voyage and no booty to be found. You are exhausted and sick of living off bean and cheese rations it will be nice to get a warm meal for a change.

As you approach the tavern you can quickly make out the words �The Gee Willikers Pub� on the creaky, rusty sign and ponders once again the sanity of the strange people in this eternally forsaken �New World�. Walking through the door you are hit by the distinctly conflicting smells of sweat, mead, whisky, and tobacco all swirling round and mixing together in your nostrils.

The room is dotted with the usual painfully exaggerated clich�s one would expect in such an establishment; the wenches milling around for free drinks or more, the cut throats and thieves, the washed out drunks, and in the corner both is of course the other pirates. Judging by the garb and bright colours, these are not friends, but nor where the strange men enemies so maybe a duel can be avoided and a drink enjoyed.

Sauntering up to the simple wooden stool near the corner of the bar you order a drink from the barkeep and sit down waiting for it. While waiting, you notice a stuffed mount of one of the odd creatures of this land. Bigger then a cat but smaller then a dog, the small mammal is still giving a feral air despite its size. You can tell they are fierce protectors of their kin, like how man should behave. Thinking to yourself you try to remember what your mate had told these creatures where called. Just as the bartender sets a strange green in front of you the name clicks; they are called racoons. �What a strange name� you ponder as you reach into the pouch at his side for the bar keep�s pay.

Before you have a chance to get immersed in your drink you can hear footsteps on the creaky wooden floor behind you.

�Contrary to what you may have heard, we do not much relish strangers here,. You lot have never given us no reason to trust your kind�

�No, I have not heard about such feelings either way,� you try to reply but as the words leave your mouth you can already hear the all to familiar scrapping sound of a sword being drawn behind you. Drawing as you turn, you have just enough time to block a downward strike with your own piece of tempered steel. You glance around with your eyes and see every eye is on the fight and every other gnarled hand is on a hilt of a blade or the handle of an axe; this could be bad. It doesn�t matter how good you are, outnumbered is outnumbered and its always better to live to fight another day.

Knowing a sticky situation when you�re in one, you think it�s best to end this as fast as possible and get the hell out of Gee Willikers. Before the assailant can gather themselves from the speed of your block you give your wrist a sharp flick, sending the attackers blade across the room as you draw a dagger from you belt and place it to the man�s throat. The room is deadly silent, every person ready to move fast at a seconds warning, including yourself. Moving behind the original attacker so your sword was ready in the right hand and the knife was held to his throat with the left, cutting in ever so slightly so show how serious you are... and partly for the revenge of ruining your drink.

Slowly backing towards the door you keep a close eye on everyone in the bar, waiting for someone who didn�t care about this scum to make a move. All the women have gone upstairs... that is another bad sign that something bad for your health is about to happen.

Reaching the door, you look to the bartender and say , �I guess I have outstayed my welcome and should be moving on now yes?�� When he replies with a nod you push the man forward knocking over the closest table of people and take off running towards the docks and your ship the Cherrywood.

Jumping up onto the deck of your ship you double over to stop the gasping and raging heartbeat with deep controlled breaths. When the ringing in your ears cause by almost getting skewered over ordering a drink passes, you turn to your first mate and ask them to get you out of this pond of a harbour town.

�We can get some supplies in the next town before finding us some treasure boys!� is the last thing that can be heard as the Cherrywood pulls back out into the ocean for another spell.