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Syg spun around on the stool, and leaned against the splintery wooden bar. He watched as the scourge he was forced to sail with played grab-ass with the wenches and drank themselves into a stupor. The booze and debauchery in the air was palpable, you could cut it with a knife. This only reinforced his decision to leave Hyrsa on the ship with Ker-Kan. He was still disgusted with this whole lot of wretches he had to make company with, but he could not help but notice - or bear - the fact that his disgust was fading ever so gradually. If it was going to happen, he vowed to himself to at least fight it tooth and nail all the way.
In the right field of his view, he saw a side of Flint that he could never have hoped to imagine. This quiet, serious, no nonsense gnome now had his feet on table and song in his voice. Syg, and apparently all the men gathered around the table trying to sing along, were quite impressed with the dance Syg believed the dwarves called 'river dancing'. As he scanned across, his eyesight fell upon the captain at a table with a mountain of a man. Most pirates Syg came across were strong and hearty. But, most likely due to their binging drinking habits and sometimes having to go without food, Syg has never seen a creature so chiseled. Every muscle on this pirates body seemed to persistently flex under his bronzed skin.
"Seems like this place has some spell over pirates.", Syg thought. For now he was witness to another behavior he had never seen from his captain before. The brush of the arm, the one leg bent with the foot on it's toes and the heel swinging back and forth, the slight tilt of her head. At first he thought that maybe dwarf women behaved differently than skaven. Maybe he was just being paranoid, just seeing something that was actually there. All thoughts like this fell out of his ears when the iron-corded giant hiked the captain onto his shoulder, and made way for private quarters. Syg nudged Graven, who was seated to his right and already near the bottom of his cups.
"Who is that over there? The one making off with the captain?" Syg asked, pointing towards that which he spoke of.
Graven gave a brief stare, trying to gather his drunken vision enough to see that far, then answered, "Oh? That be Shamus. He an Cappo are what you might call... uh... 'tumble mates'.".
"Tumble mates?" asked Syg, his face contorted in confusion.
"Ya. They're mates, and they tumble once in a while. Like a hussy without payin, or a lover without courtin. Cappo calls him... her 'playman'." replied the drunk dwarf, who was now trying to dry the beer in his beard with his hand, which he spilled turning back to the bar.
"I find it hard to believe anybody would lay with the captain for no coin." said Syg.
Graven turned to Syg, his face showing signs of seriousness and perturbance. Syg immediately regretted his words, and wondered how the first mate would punish him for his offense. Like most of these pirates, they cared highly for each other, but not a licks worth for anybody else. Syg was certain his brief couple months didn't qualify him for half a lick, especially in regards to the captain. He certainly couldn't fight the first mate back either, that would just cause the whole crew to bear down on him. But now, a wave of perturbance and relief rolled over Syg, as Graven threw his head back in laughter. His drunkenness coupled with this abrupt shift in weight caused him to completely fall out off his stool. Also, thanks to his drunkenness, he felt not a thing and continued a bellowing laughter that rivaled the noise of the rest of the crowd.
After that good, long laugh, Graven awkwardly pulled himself back up to the bar. Tears still welled in his eyes, and he said "I don't sodding believe it! Master Manners here cracks more than just Ol' Flint's spyglasses, he cracks jokes too!"
Graven waved to the bartender. "Oi! Puddle!", he yelled. "A flagon of yer finest spiced for me mate here!" He turned to Syg. "I know ya don't drink, but I'll be offended if you refuse my gift." said the dwarf "Besides, don't knock it til ya try it.". Syg loathed the idea of poisoning his body, but he couldn't be sure of the first mate's seriousness when he said he would be offended. So when the bartender dropped a steel mug with a pouring top on it in front of Syg, he picked it up. Graven wavered bringing his mug up, drunkenness robbing him of steady hand, and tapped it against Syg's mug.
"Cheers!" he said, before guzzling what was left in the cup.
"Cheers!" replied Syg, before cautiously sipping down part of his drink. It was like pouring lava down his throat, the rum burned like hell against his virgin gullet.
There certainly must be something about The Booze Man's Barge that causes people to behave oddly, Syg concurred. What it was, he'd never know. But whatever it was, it made him put more jokes in the air, as well as warm his innards with more rum. For the latter he would pay for the next day. For that, he hated The Barge, at least until sunset anyway, when the hangover finally subsided.
"Ok we aren't such things and birds are pretty advanced. They fly and shit from anywhere they want. While we sit on our automatic toilets, they're shitting on people and my car while a cool breeze tickles their anus. That's the life."
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