Day 341: Avast, ye lubbers! Th' winds o' autumn are come an' Morgan Corbye's sailin' fer port. Ye wimminfolk best tuck yer sweet'earts an' 'usbands inter yer cellars fer I hears it said that she's conscriptin' new blood fer 'er crew. Shuild ye no' be 'avin' yer lads goin' fer t' pirate, ye'd be well-a'vised t' get 'em safe away. Beware th' turn o' th' tide on th' morrow!
No comments:
Post a Comment