dancingchara

"The worst old ship that ever did weigh / Sailed outta Driscol on a windy day / And we're waiting for the day, waiting for the day, / Waiting for the day when we get our pay..." The Abbey of the Everyman was much more quiet after the business with Campbell was cleaned up. Granted, the Lord Regent was stretching the Overseers thin enough as it is, but being bolstered by the officers of the Watch meant there was no significant loss in manpower, and the Office of the High Overseer was able to continue most of its operations unhindered. These operations included the usual inquisitions and interrogations, with one very notable peculiarity. Today,

"Hey, Corporal Standish!" Standish leaned back in his chair until he could see down the hall of this floor of the Watch's latest dilapidated building outpost, pulling on his mustache. "If this is about me getting my own squad, so help me-" Lyle, a wiry Lower Guard with a face like a rat, was looking back at him from out of a doorway at the other end of the hall, grinning from ear to ear. "Nah, nothing like that." "Well, then, what?" "I, uh- You gotta see it to believe it." "Look, Lyle, it's not that hard. Just use your words like a grown up." "No, really. Get over here." Standish grunted in annoyance, pushing aside his paperwork and reaching

What will we do with the drunken whaler What will we do with the drunken whaler What will we do with the drunken whaler Early in the Morning Way hey and up she rises Way hey and up she rises Way hey and up she rises Early in the morning Stuff him in a sack and throw him over Stuff him in a sack and throw him over Stuff him in a sack and throw him over Early in the morning Feed him to the hungry rats for dinner Feed him to the hungry rats for dinner Feed him to the hungry rats for dinner Early in the morning Way hey and up she rises Way hey and up she rises Way hey and up she rises Early in the morning Shoot him through the heart with a loaded

The smell of the dead brought her comfort now. No one went near the bodies. Perhaps the reason no one went near her either was became she looked like them anyway. Her small frame was nothing but skin and bones, her hair covered with dirt and slime. The dress she had worn since she had taken to the streets was torn in numerous places, stained to near black. Faded, fraying slippers were all she wore on her feet, a pair she stole from a girl about her age as she coughed and wept as the plague ravaged her body. "What shall we do to the drunken whaler? What shall we do to the drunken whaler? What shall we do to the drunken whaler Early in