sailor

The Sailor's Message

Milady,

Many a strange business 'as been seen about me waters of late. Scoundrels a plenty roam me once peaceful seas. Stories of pirates, treasure and murder are a'floaten 'round the 'arbor bars and inns.. Normally 'taint nuthin, as sailers is given to bendin the truth a mite, but of late, all the stories I hear tell of sound the same.. Hardly a wench, captain nor sailor is inflaten the facts and bendin the tale.. Odd indeed when yer fellows are liars and braggerts one and all. E'ry last one o' the stories involves some damn fool young man galavantin' around in search o' some maiden or other. I'd not beleive a word o' what I 'erd, 'ad I not seen em fer me self! I spoke to em I did, face to face. And I fear the end o' his quest may not be an 'appy one.

I spoke with this "Marcus" fellow briefly, Marcus is 'is name so he says, ya see. And it seems 'es bein chased by those that mean 'im 'arm. I could hardly make 'eads nor tails o' what 'e was sayin. Blabberin on about savin a dead women from death. Which dont make no good sense a'tall. Yer dead er yer not. Least thats what I come to beleive. Ain't seen no dead person get back up, thats fer sure. And I seen me fair share o' dead mates in me time. He was in a terrible 'urry, and shoved this 'ere piece of parchment in me hands, mumbled some mess about if 'e was caught, if 'e didn't have this 'ere, 'e might have a chance. A chance at what? I dont rightly know. 'E gave me a few more orders an sailed off before i could 'ardly place a word in edgewise.

I'm jes an 'umble sailor ya see, and at a loss as to what to do in this 'ere mess. Somewhere in 'is rantins he mentioned yer name and bade me ta contact ya and tell yee all 'e told me. Struck me as odd it did, as I been a customer o' yer shop fer many a year now and fail ta' see what 'e and you could 'ave in common with one another. But I did as I was told, confused as I am.

I'll be puttin ta' sea in a few days, but til then I'll be stayin at the inn. Them damnded fairies and their constant chatterin is gratin on me last nerve, but tis still preferable to the bite o' them black widows up North.

If ya need me fer anythin, dont 'esitate ter ask.