Rested, yet weary, upon the waves we set, “The Freya” in our wake. Our return met by flotsam of lives lost, a lone docked vessel five by five.
Like the Sword of Damocles, Corpsewake’s remains hung heavily on high. Forth to the Racketeer, as Frankenshark roiled and rose amongst the buoyant dead.
Ahoy! Not lifeless yet, shambling foes moved with purpose to meet our rescue. Claws! Axes! Tentacles! Swords! Finally Xitulanka’s Orb cleared our way.
“Permission to board” cried as we set upon her boards, no booty left. Yet in her hold a dozen wretches moaning, abandoned, chained to bulkhead. By Cap’n freed, we put them forth, grateful, in dinghies to batten The Freya.
Forge found cold in Blackstrap’s shop, where he stood tall with hammer and blade. Passage granted upon our ship, exchanged for weapons not yet forged.
Onward to rankness of sewer stench, Riddle’s key to vault we set our sights. Inward did the door swing, our Cap’n’s gasp betrayed the treasure held within. Silver! Codpiece! Jewelled Skull! Tablets! Iron rings! And piece of fish to massive scale.
Alone a mirror stood, its lies whispered sweetly to my ears. Its voice quieted by my will and sailcloth used to bind its jeers.
Upwards climbed, where Ratboy lay, his talk of keys could not be swayed. Carried away upon our backs, rescue confirmed by present crew.
Risen to church’s grace, we scrambled on to St. Delphin’s decimated perch. Fast now, Sweetie Mae set upon our mission both fists and breast exposed.
A bark of blunderbuss, Sweetie not deterred, zombie crew at her back. Cap’n’s orb halves crew in twain, while battle raged and axes sang. At last to ground her exposed ballast fell, our crew ringing the last death knell.
Mae’s key tucked tightly in Cap’n’s sash, “To Belladonna’s now to save some… laaaaaaaaaaadies.”
Secured within the ladies waited, distrustful in their brothel walls. Acceptance came reluctantly, command our crew to set them free.
To vaults then with Sweetie’s key, a chiffon dress, “It won’t fit me.” Booty for all, her vault was cleared, the candy floss our Cap’n weared… weird. Weird, weird, weird, weird, that chiffon dress will be weared.
To Tibus waiting for safety’s grace, rescue secured with zombie cure. Adam’s colour at once restored, viewpoint renewed between shared worlds.
Shade thrown by Cap’n of wares not shown, we set back out to scorpion’s home.
Three ships set sail from town destroyed, and Cap’n by this log o’erjoyed!
Pirate Björk 