A Pirate's Life

Disclaimer: This story has some very strong language and potentially insultive content.

Part 1:

Board your ship, capture the crew,
Take your gold, ye' wife too,
But don't you worry admiral,
'Cause we'll be gentle! Hey!

Vith entered the lower cabin as the song was finishing. He gazed up at Footrub who was gulping down the contents of his bottle; trickles of it dripping down his balded chin like rain seeping through cracked glass. It was a routine that Vith was familiar with: first Footrub would form a song from thin air (though often recognisably similar each week) and then perform said song upon a raised stool in front of the entire crew. Upon finishing, he'd proceed to empty the contents of any alcohol in his proximity and upon doing so, pass out onto the floor. This week was no different. His body collapsing against the floor signalled for the First Mate to stand and address the crew. He was often mistaken as the captain of the vessel due to his weaved, long beard and the tri-pronged hat upon his head. First Mate Black Roach was rumoured to have a heart so ash black that it rivaled his darkened skin, his fingernails were told to be as sharper than any Dwarven steel and he was blessed by Neptulon himself with the gift a thousand lives. All of these rumours derived from the countless battles the man had won. He was said to have won a battle against one of the finest human galleons with only the mantle of a fishing boat and his infamous flintlock. Shot, stabbed, burnt alive; all of these things the First Mate was said to have suffered but his son, Vith, knew otherwise. His father had a silver-tongue and a temper to match Ragnaros; which was rather ironic when his son was born incapable of speech. Black Roach was fond of saying "The boy's got his father's build, his father's thirst for ale but his mother's cunt misplaced upon the thin lips of his face." The question none dared to ask but spoke of in whispered voices in the bowels of the ship, why does he not captain his own ship? Why server under a woman? Vith often contemplated it.

The Black Roach rose, lifting his tankard from the table and cradled it like a son at its mother's breast, "Are ye' all feelin' well fucked, me friends? Or shall I have me boy fetch the women from the hull so ye' can drink the contents of their cunts?!" The crew roared with delight, even the three women amongst them found humour in such charming words. His voice was husky but burdened by slurs from his large consumption of rum "Three weeks upon the water and we 'ave already plundered more than our winter months."
"A drink!" One of the crew among the crowd roared, satisfying his excitement with humanities slow poison. The crew followed in unison but the Black Roach merely spoke over them, immersed in his speech.
"An' I promise ye' tha' ther' will be plenty more. Ten times tha' of last year. Neptulon himself will feel lightened by the gold we pull from his water's back! Sate your thirst tonight, brothers, for on the 'morro we take to the sea with our cocks and cunts held out. Sing, you worthless dogs, sing and be fuckin' merry! Wha' makes you free?" He slumped back into his seat as the crew all stood to clash mugs; their bellowing voices capable of drowning out a navy's cannon fire.

Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiif... ye' livin' in the city walls,
It doesn't mean you're free!
So you've still got ye' cock and balls,
It doesn't mean you're free!
So ye' not held down by chains,
It doesn't mean you're free!
So ye' got ye' horse new reins,
It doesn't mean you're free!
If ye' feast on whale blubber,
It doesn't mean you're free!
If ye' still a land lubber,
It doesn't mean you're free!
'Cause the only place that's good and free,
Is the open fucking sea!

"Faster, you c-camel-born fucks." The Black Roach's eyes were flickering; he was almost ready to join Footrub upon the deck.

So ye' cock has grown some hair,
It doesn't mean you're free!
Sleepin' rough and hunting bear,
It doesn't mean you're free!
Grass wriggles against ye' toes,
It doesn't mean you're free!
Ye' wife goes down and ther' she blows,
It doesn't mean you're free!
On her knees, she starts to suck,
It doesn't mean you're free!
The only woman you'll ever fu-
Three loud blasts of gunfire from the top deck filled the air. A brief silence followed before someone called down to them...
"Naval ship!"



(( This is just a concept I've been working on for one of my characters and seemed like a fun story to write. Will be adding to it, all up to the point of where the character ends up in today's WoW! ))

Brilliant. I love the song too, will definitely use that on Zal!

Enjoyed this!

Arrr, thee ghost o' ol' Drethy approves o' the cut o' ya jib matey!