From the Author: I own none of these characters except for Danae
Bloodsail. No stealing Danae, as she is quite a cool character, and
she's mine. All mine.
Prologue
The sea churned that night. Not like a bowl of, say, pancake mix, but more in that dark, mysterious way that poets and authors love to use so much to introduce the setting of a brooding sea tale. In fact, forget churning altogether. What the sea was doing that night was more like telling all of the sailors to bugger off and leave it be a while, using dangerously large waves to try to get the idea across. Of course, it was damned near impossible for the sailors to bugger off once the waves started, and most of them fell overboard or sunk or something, and died. But who ever said that the sea was particularly clever? In any case, those that had the most brains and fastest ships took the hint quite well, zipping back to whatever port was closest and held the largest stores of alcohol and the cheapest wenches.
But this story isn't about them. It has nothing to do with this particular night. In fact, this story centers around an entirely different part of the Caribbean, where the sea was slightly less grumpy and the people that sailed on it were slightly more drunk. Among these slightly more drunken people was Danae Bloodsail.
Review if you like. Just don't flame, please. If you don't like it, stop reading it, instead of insulting it.
Prologue
The sea churned that night. Not like a bowl of, say, pancake mix, but more in that dark, mysterious way that poets and authors love to use so much to introduce the setting of a brooding sea tale. In fact, forget churning altogether. What the sea was doing that night was more like telling all of the sailors to bugger off and leave it be a while, using dangerously large waves to try to get the idea across. Of course, it was damned near impossible for the sailors to bugger off once the waves started, and most of them fell overboard or sunk or something, and died. But who ever said that the sea was particularly clever? In any case, those that had the most brains and fastest ships took the hint quite well, zipping back to whatever port was closest and held the largest stores of alcohol and the cheapest wenches.
But this story isn't about them. It has nothing to do with this particular night. In fact, this story centers around an entirely different part of the Caribbean, where the sea was slightly less grumpy and the people that sailed on it were slightly more drunk. Among these slightly more drunken people was Danae Bloodsail.
Review if you like. Just don't flame, please. If you don't like it, stop reading it, instead of insulting it.