Post by Tim Curry on Apr 8, 2012 10:17:37 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=style,width:500px; height:500px; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/g9uJQ.png); background-repeat:none;] It had been 40 days since Erland had left his home of Elbaf. He managed to get all the way to the south blue by posing for the marines in his ragged clothes, asking for them to return him to his home in the south blue(Though this wasn't necessarily false). [/style]Having no bounty or records of any kind for Erland, they allowed him to board the next boat set to cross the calm belt. He had heard much about the marines before from his Giant brothers, he learned that they could be both ruthless and merciful in equal measure, so he decided that he was going to take full advantage of their merciful side, before they become his enemy also. His reasoning behind travelling to the south blue was a simple one, he decided that he was going to work his way from the bottom of the globe upwards. Geography was plainly not Erland's strongest subject. The marines left him off on the first island they docked in, as they were going no further. Dance island was the first mark of his grand journey to follow, and he would always remember it as the place where his crew was born. After leaving the dock area, Erland was hit by culture shock. He had never seen this kind of urbanisation before, even the marine base he visited was only a small outpost. Still, his mind was set on only one thing, the island's bar. In all the Giants tales of the outside world, the bar intrigued him most, the idea of an endless supply of liquor was difficult to pass up. Having little to no idea how to navigate the urban spread, Erland asked a passerby, "You, where can I get my fill of drink?" The commanding tone caused the man to be startled, but deciding it best to simply answer his question he said, "Y-you mean the bar? It's right over there." He pointed to the large tavern, jutting out the edge of the street. Erland's eyes began to shine, "It's just as I imagined it." Erland sprinted towards the bar, entirely oblivious to how it confused those around him. Once he reached the end of his run he threw open the door and exclaimed, "Bring Me Grog!" with enough force to rattle the establishment. Ah grog, a liquid so intoxicating and harmful that it eats through most substances, including wood. Clearly this bar had been built with grog in mind however, as it's bar was made of stone and it's tables were solid metal. Being used to such customers, the barkeep filled up a mug and threw it down the bar to Erland. He stared at the container with great confusion, "What kind of pansy drink is this? I couldn't even wet my moustache with only this much!" Having been living on the island of giants for so long, he had taken the massive quantities of food and liquor to be the norm. The barman was hardly impressed, instead he sighed and threw down a jug for Erland to refill his drink as he pleased. But this was underestimating Erland, as he downed all that had been set before him in but moments. "I hadn't realised that these bars served such pathetic amounts of drink." Yet Erland had made a very basic mistake which became apparent when the barkeep made clear that, "If you want more you're going to have to pay up for that first." |
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