50 The North pole (1/2)
'A whistling echo shook the high seas as a mighty sea king arose to confront the wooden ship. Its hull had been beaten in and the mast twirled precariously as the storm whipped at the sails and the ocean rose in a terrifying cacophony. Lightning struck in the background illuminating the well wooded ship for what it was, a pirate vessel with a lean skull with a particularly flowery moustache..' I said before taking a deep breath and a swig from the sake bottle on the table.
We had made it a habit at this point, I would tell stories of one or the other famous pirate crews during dinner, at the express pleading of Sorren, this had evolved from a onetime thing to a tradition of sorts.
Sorren could be seen with glowing eyes, possibly imagining the scene I had just described. Of all of the crew, he seemed to be the most childish, wanting always to be pampered and coddled. It wasn't that we minded however, he helped break both me and Fawkes from our somber retinues in his childish bouts of comedy.
Fawkes looked on appreciatively from the kitchens while Terrick and Angella sat at the table enjoying the food.
”Captain, then what happened??” Sorren said, impatiently waiting for the supposed climax of the story that would conclude the days story.
”Calm down lil' fatty and let me finish this bottle, we'll finish the rest then” I said before taking a deep swig and sighing in satisfaction.
”Then the pirate ship swung smartly to the side, and swung the residents over as if it were an actual person, the pirates cutlasses blazing pounced upon the majestic sea king and stabbed it to death!” I said ending with a flourish of my hands.
”COOL!!!!” Sorren said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. How he got excited at these barely blood churning situations when most of the things we had gotten into within our rather short adventure was all but baffling to both me and my first mate.
”Boss, when are we going to reach??” The whiney voice of Terrick rang out from his pedestal on the ship's deck. He had finished shining his blades and now looked much like a bored puppy with no interesting things to do.
As soon as he had finished however, a steady stream of snowflakes began falling down from the dark and looming skies. The suddenness of it all had reminded me of the Grand line within which I had the brief pleasure of cruising.
The temperature had begun to cool falling at a terrifying rate with the tips of my nose taking a distinctive red hue quite reminiscent of Rudolf the red nosed rain deer.
Sorren stood shivering uncannily at the corner of the deck, in the process of pulling on his fifth shirt and tying his shawl around his neck in a distinctively unflattering knot around his flabby neck. His hands shook and his breath fogged in front of his face, making him look quite like the Eskimos from the tundric reaches of the remotest mountain range in the drum island.