Occupying a rickety-old picnic table that was amongst many like it that were scattered around the galley's tightly-packed dining area, the young warrior named "Quattro Sevenstark" sat with his two female party members: the blond half-elf ranger named "Cassandra Hatharal", and a martial artist, with white haired tied up into a long ponytail, named "Wyleith Rothrock".
With over bodies seated within the galley— most of which were overdue for a shower— not only was the dining experience ruined by the bland, and salty boiled sardines and dried vegetables that they had been served, but each and everyone of them had to stomach the kitchen staff's muck while breathing in putrid, and uncomfortably humid odor.
Having been hyper fixated on scarfing down what passed as food aboard the Admiral Joe Fowler, Quattro's acute sense of debilitating drowsiness was something that the blond young warrior wrote off at first as nothing more than just his body reacting to the inhospitable conditions of the dining area— blaming it on possible dehydration, as most of them had consumed alcohol, on top of eating their salty, shredded fish meat.
Sweating profusely with a head-splitting migraine accompanying his blurry vision— as the dimly-lit room felt as though it was spinning before his disoriented mind— Quattro let out a nauseated groan as he jolt himself awake, after having almost nodded off to sleep.
"Holy shit… I… I-I think I'm gonna get some fresh air, girls— I ain't doin' too hot," Quattro uttered out with a queasy voice, and resisted the urge to retch as he grabbed the edge of the picnic table to help himself off of the bench.
Having expected a response from either party members, the young warrior tilted his head down while nursing his stomach with both arms— his confusion soon turning into worry, after finally noticing that both Cassandra and Wyleith were haunched over the table. A cold shiver ran down his spine, as the blond adventurer slowly pried his right arm from his own churning gut, so as to reach over behind the half-elf ranger's back to grab a hold of her shoulder from behind.
"O-Oi…! Cass…! C-Cassandra!" Quattro called out, while struggling to keep down his rising bile— needing a moment to regain his bearings, before finally pulling the half-elf ranger back by her shoulder.
With the only indication of her still being alive coming in the form of her letting out a loud snore, Quattro let out a nauseated sigh of relief, before swallowing the lump in his throat.
"W… W-What the hell did they put in that crap…?!" The bewildered adventurer murmured half-sarcastically under his breath, and took a glance at Cassandra's nearly empty plate before turning to check on Wyleith next.
As he reached over with the intention of checking the martial artist's carotid artery for a pulse, it was then that the young warrior's eyes darted over to the direction of the section of the dining hall, where all the off-duty sailors had congregated for supper.
However, unlike every adventurer within the galley— who were either unconscious, or who were in the process of succumbing to their sudden onset of fatigue— the crew mates seemed to be perfectly lucid, as far as the young warrior's disoriented vision could tell.
Not only were the sailors awake, but each and everyone one of them unbothered by the events transpiring within the humid, and disgusting galley— some of them cracking subtle jokes to one another, while the majority of them were eyeing the females who laid haunched over the table nearest to theirs.
'What in the goddamn…?! Are they…?! Are they not going to help us?! Do they think this is some kind of fucking joke?!' The young warrior thought to himself— getting infuriated with the thought of the crew mates laughing and pointing at their expense, while not even considering any sort of darker motive as he began making his way boldly towards the group of forty middle-aged men.
Swaying and bumping his hip into the ends of a few tables along his way, Quattro stumbled his way to the table full of sailors— getting their undivided intention, as he glared sourly at each of the unsightly man sitting before him.
"I-Is this…?! I-Is this SHIT funny to you?! HUH?!" The young warrior shouted angrily at the entire group of seamen, after having to push down the urge to vomit. "This is…! T-This is unacceptable; I demand to see the fuckin' Captain and of shitty fuckin' ferry boat— RIGHT FUCKIN' NOW!"
In an attempt to display power the maliciously grinning sailors, the young warrior unsheathed his broadsword from his scabbard, that was attached to the side of his belt— naively drawing his blade on the all forty men, which instantly became a decision he would regret.
All together, the drunken seamen laughed mockingly at the look of nauseated horror across the young warrior's pale face, as they drew their flintlock-pistols one-by-one to take aim at him en masse.
Realizing his mistake far too late, Quattro stood there in place with fear swelling up inside him— his heart sinking into his chest, as his disoriented sensation escalated into an adjacent feeling of vertigo.
'Oh shit…! Oh shit, I fucked up— I fucked up bad!' He thought dreadfully, while beginning to feel his breath sharpen as the bearded man sitting across the table from where he was standing rose slowly up to his feet— a look of perverse-sadism in his dark eyes, as he grinned a yellow-tooth smile at the young warrior.
"Oi! Where be that bleedin' bravado, lad?! Where did it go?! Could 'ave bloody sworn yew were runnin' yewr cock-suckin' lips just a moment ago, matey," the sun-tan sailor with a beer gut asked mockingly, while keeping the barrel of his flintlock aimed drunkenly at the young man's chest— eyeing his figure hidden beneath his steel armor, as he slowly made his way around the table like a predator sizing up their next meal.
Hearing the other sailors giggling and cackling around him, Quattro flinched upon hearing one of them half-jokingly commenting out loud, "I bloody think Motto-Motto has taken a fancy to yew, laddie— ain't ya fockin' lucky, matey~?! HAHA, HA!"
Involuntarily muttering out the word "no" under his breath, the young warrior felt his breath quicken as he fought with his own body to take back control of his legs— his heart pounding against his chest, as the heart six-foot tall sailor licked his dried lips, while getting within a meter range of him.
"Aye, lad— the boys be sayin' the truth…! I'm fancying your bloody lil' boy-pussy, matey— I bet yewr shitter is nice-and-tight, innit~?!"
In that moment, time seemed to slow down Quattro, as his eyes watched in horror as the overweight man who looked old enough to be his grandfather reached towards him with his callus, and unwashed hands— horrific thoughts of him being forced into his knees with his trousers pulled down to his knees entered the young warrior's mind.
The gravity of the situation for what it was, rather than what he thought it to be, came crashing down upon his panicked psyche; the realization that they had been poisoned, and were going to be at the mercy by an entire boat's worth of crooked sailors shook the young warrior to his very core.
"G… G-GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" The seventeen year-old shrieked out defiantly, as he finally gained control of his body— just in time to duck out of the way, and plow the tip of his blade upward into his would-be rapist's abdomen.
Immediately upon piercing the sailor, Quattro's adrenaline began pumping through his veins as a cacophony of gunfire and vengeful shouting filled the galley— jolting even the most unconscious adventurer from their wake, as the young warrior used the overweight man's dense body to soak up the hail of projectiles.
By the end of the first volley of shots, there wasn't much left of the sailor's body for his sword to hold up— making it that much easier for Quattro to retract his blade from the mutilated corpse.
With his flight-or-fight senses giving him the boost he needed to turn heel and run, Quattro gave it his all while fighting off the encumbrance of whatever poison was coursing through his bloodstream— his heart aching, as he was forced to abandon the rest of the guild members.
'Where am I even gonna go?! We're out in the middle of the fucking sea at night— there's no fucking way off this piece of shit!' Quattro thought hopelessly to himself, as he used all his energy to shoulder-bash his way through the galley's door, before taking off down the corridor towards the only path that made sense to his terrified mind: up.
Needing to rely on the wall to help guide him up the ladders leading to the main deck, Quattro did his best to use his bloodied sword against the patrolling sailors who had been dispatched to investigate the gunfire from down below.
Outnumbered ten-to-one, Quattro's knees buckled underneath him as the sailors drew their flintlock rifles at him. 'OH GOD, NO!' He wanted to scream, but couldn't even get a scream out as the men fired their rifles at him from ten-feet away— fragments of his heavy breastplate tearing through his ribs and vital organs, as each round pierced through his body like a hot knife through butter.
Flying backwards from the onslaught of projectiles alone, the young warrior laid staring up at the low-hanging ceiling above him— writhing in pain, and vomiting out blood mixed in with bile from his mouth, as he bled profusely onto the rugged timber planks beneath his musket-ball torn body.
Seizing up, Quattro quickly became asphyxiated, as his popped lungs filled up with whatever bloody viscus was oozing into them from his open wounds. As the pain began to numb, while the ten sailors slowly approached him with cautious, shaken expressions across their sea-weathered faces, the young warrior began seeing glimpses of his life flashing before him, as light slowly began to fade from around his blurry vision.
Remembering the day vividly of when his older brother was conscripted into the King's army, Quattro's dying mind thought back to the conversation he had with him, during the last meal his older sibling would have with their family.
"Eugene… I don't think you should go."
"Tch! Yeah, haha! Like I have a choice in the matter, Quattro!"
"But you do, don't you? Everyone's always got a choice in the matter— even if it doesn't seem that way, right?"
"I mean…! Yeaaah, I guess?! But sometimes, the best choice to make is the one that's the least desirable. And besides, it's not like this isn't a good opportunity to get some fighting experience under my belt— before my grand debut~!"
"You… You want to go to fight the Victorians, because…? Because, you think that'll make you a better adventurer…?"
"Hell yeah, I do! I mean, come on! It'll give me everything I'll need, in order to get at least— to get AT LEAST— silver rank! Ya know, whenever I eventually DO join the guild, anyway…!"
"But… But what if… W-What if you don't come back…?"
"Sheesh! Don't have much confidence in me, I see~…! How assuring…!"
"T-That's not what I-!"
"-Ahhhh, I'm just messing with you, Quattro— I know what you meant! And to that, I guess uh… I guess that means I can't die while I'm out in the Polaris Province— otherwise, you'll have to be this family's first ever adventurer, won't ya~?"
'No! No, no— NO! No! I can't die— not yet! I…! I-I…!' The young man's exhausted mind articulated, as his vision soon became pitch-black, while the murmurs of the men surrounding his fatally wounded body began to deafen into absolute silence— the black void of oblivion swallowing him up, as the last of his senses to the world around him became fully severed.
"I…! I-I p-promised him…! P-Promised h-himmm…!"
Taking his final, shallow breath, Quattro's body became motionless— not a trace of life was left to be found within his glossed over eyes, as the sailors circled around the young warrior they had just murdered in cold blood.