For plunder and treasure and women and ale,
for fruit that’s not rotten and bread that’s not stale.
For skies that are blue and a fresh peace of mind,
for cleansing our souls, so hard… hard to find
Our heroes (or knaves, scum, scallywags, dishonorable dwarves – your choice) spent the night carousing in Port Peril, main port of the Shackles, home of the Free Captains and the Hurricane King. The place of their choosing? The Formidably Maid. There they dined on spiced foods and drank spiced wine, cavorting and carousing to their hearts content.
That’s what they remember, anyway, as they all wake up with a pounding headache and a strange taste in their mouths. Around them, the room seems to shift in time with a constant, groaning creak – what the more sea-inclined recognize as the movement of a ship underway. Still, they don’t have much time to get their bearings as a man they recognize from the tavern comes into the room and gives them a cheerfully cracked smile as he uncoils his whip, with several other tough looking fellows filing in behind him…