Post by Renegade on Jan 12, 2011 10:53:29 GMT -5
It was about damn time. Mat sat on the railing of his ship, The Raven's Wing, and stared out at the ocean beside him. He was currently docked in Pecos town, a place well known by marines for the number of recruits that tended to come from there. His superiors had sent him there to meet with the rest of his crew, and so wait he did. It had taken days for them to actually let him go, since apparently there was a lot involved with starting a new crew. Finding a captain, getting him a ship, christening the ship, finding him a crew, and assembling the crew together. All in all the entire affair was beginning to become more trouble than it was worth in Mat's honest and humble opinion.
"Bloody Admirals...," he mutters, his annoyance with them evident by the choice words he used. Sighing, he looks away from the ocean and back towards the docks below. It was around noon, far as he could tell, and his crew members were supposed to be assembling fairly soon. However, he couldn't distinguish one person on those docks from another, because like most docks in a sea port it looked like a mad house. If you ever want to see what a kicked over anthill looks like without running the risk of being bitten by the ants, a dock is the place to go.
With a grimace on his face, Mat hops down from the railing and moves in the direction of the gangplank. He was beginning to grow bored with all of this standing around, at the least he should be able to walk around the dock below. placing his spear casually over his shoulder and adjusting his wide-brimmed leather hat, he jumps down below and begins to casually walk the length of the dock.
Ignoring the people around him, he decides to take a look at some of the ships. None of them seemed as fine as his own, yet they did have a nice appeal. As he studies one ship, he pauses carefully, eyeing the sails. There was no flag on that ship, neither merchant, marine, or pirate, and the in and of itself was rather suspicious. Frowning, he takes note of the ship and glances up at the sun, determining it'd been about half an hour or so since he'd started walking. He heads back in the direction of the ship, whisting casually as he goes.
"Bloody Admirals...," he mutters, his annoyance with them evident by the choice words he used. Sighing, he looks away from the ocean and back towards the docks below. It was around noon, far as he could tell, and his crew members were supposed to be assembling fairly soon. However, he couldn't distinguish one person on those docks from another, because like most docks in a sea port it looked like a mad house. If you ever want to see what a kicked over anthill looks like without running the risk of being bitten by the ants, a dock is the place to go.
With a grimace on his face, Mat hops down from the railing and moves in the direction of the gangplank. He was beginning to grow bored with all of this standing around, at the least he should be able to walk around the dock below. placing his spear casually over his shoulder and adjusting his wide-brimmed leather hat, he jumps down below and begins to casually walk the length of the dock.
Ignoring the people around him, he decides to take a look at some of the ships. None of them seemed as fine as his own, yet they did have a nice appeal. As he studies one ship, he pauses carefully, eyeing the sails. There was no flag on that ship, neither merchant, marine, or pirate, and the in and of itself was rather suspicious. Frowning, he takes note of the ship and glances up at the sun, determining it'd been about half an hour or so since he'd started walking. He heads back in the direction of the ship, whisting casually as he goes.