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  The High Seas Tavern mainly murder

 

The Raucous cry of gulls overhead told Boom Pearlman that the Fairing Dawn was approaching landfall. Solis, that city of sin and stain and sorrow, was a smudge on the horizon, a smeared scar of shortcoming and deficiency. Most avoided her if they could, or stayed but a short while if they couldn't. Many a crewman would stay swinging in a damp hammock aboard ship rather than risk a night wrapped in landward linen, that might well end up their burial shroud. But to Pearlman it was home. And he was missing his harsh mistress more than he thought he might. Tonight he would swap his hammock on the high seas, for a comfy bed in The High Seas, with the solidity of a stone floor that didnt roll under him, and a wooden ceiling that didn't piss him wet through with every squall or cresting wave. And proper grub too, not just tack and age toughened old goat in a slurry pot, but proper food with green stuff and meat that looked and smelled of freshness. Oh, and the warmth of a companion too, and a bed mate that was, at last, anatomically correct for the things he wanted to do.....

 

 

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