Tales of the Shackles

Toilday, 17th of Lamashan, 4711 A.R.

The moon’s full tonight, an’ the storm’s all gone. I saw Plugg retchin’ over the side earlier – dunno but I’ve never seen the man seasick before. It’s a rum cove who commands salty dogs at their work and can’t ‘old ’is stomach in, an’ I ‘eard plenty of these scoundrels sayin’ the same. ‘Course if that’s Mr. Plugg readin’ this diary now, well, may I say what a fine officer you are, sir.

Anyway, funny thing is Bert got ill the right same time. I’d’a thunk it was the food but ain’t nobody else sick, so can’t be that. Maybe it’s the moon.


Uncle_DM Uncle_DM

I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.