The night had crept up on the town, shadowing it and enveloping it all in hues of navy blue and violet. However, the city was not sleeping. Lights shone through windows and open doorways, casting a watery glow through the mist-enshrouded streets. At the Hell's Gate Tavern, business was thriving. The air inside was thick with the fumes of tobacco and the stench of grog and rum. A continual humming of conversation flowed as freely as the liquor sold, mingling with the sounds of somebeast scraping away on a violin and the loud, angry voice of a big brutish weasel who didn't think he needed to pay for his grog.
Seated at a circular table in a secluded part of the room several beasts sat. They swilled their grog slowly, their eyes were riveted o…Read more >
When I was a young ratjack
I joined the crew of the Blackjack
To sail the foaming main
The bos'n was a fat old rat
The Cap'n was called Grimy Nat
But both of them were slain
Ole Cooky Slopp could whop up a stew
That'd lay out 'arf the crew
An' yer'd think yew'd gone insane!
Rigg the fox called a mutiny
Sent the first mate to the bottom of the sea
An' said "He ain't comin' back again!"
One dark night while all were a-bed
We crashed into a reef, they said
An' it caused us so much pain
The ol' Blackjack sank like a stone
None survived but I alone
An' that's when I vowed never again to sail the main!
Around the mess'all table we sat
M'jolly lads an' I
Berrin Forgey was enormously fat
An' vowed to scoff all th' pie!
Tiny Torpil shook his head
"That's a bloomin' lie!" he…
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