2022-04-24 14:49:08 +05:30

18 lines
911 B
Plaintext

A tricorne hat thick with the smell of alcohol.
Its shape and design symbolize the position of its owner.
The hard-drinking Chief Mate was lost in a drunken reverie from morning till night, and was rarely ever sober.
He reeked of alcohol all over, mumbling often of tattered memories.
The jovial Skipper did not reprimand him, however, and indeed kept giving him important responsibilities.
"Well, we are both people without a thing to our names, eh? Hahahaha!"
"The wine-sodden sea hat was thrust by a storm into the sky, and then carried away on the roiling waves."
"Those fated to lose their homelands engage in battles bereft of hope and want."
"That which they lost to the sea of memory, they sought to reclaim from the deep."
"The wind and waves are correct. We have found it."
"That giant creature that haunts and gnaws at me even in my dreams..."
"The time for vengeance has arrived. We set sail!"