When ye dead come sailing home

[Lautreamont]

”It's been long, too long for my ol' eyes to even see this coming. Tides have turned and ye seek the justice, but I'm sure nothing will be enough, curse ye, curse ye..” Fer sighs and throws an empty bottle of 'ruby to the floor at Seawolf. ”But mark me words, if ye really are coming for me then I'll burn half the coast with me as I go, by the Bitchqueen ye won't take me last breath before I'll 'ave me saying in this final faith that will surely await us all! I'll find a cure before ye find me, or die roaring with me plunders”

Fers coughs seem to become more sick as the days go by and some nights he can barely make his way to Goblet in Hellstorm business with huge effort and waving with unhealthy self medication of countless bottles. Some days are better than others for the old pirate but the image still haunts him on his best strength whenever he looks at the mark. Others from the crew have noticed his lack of singing lately and mumbling alone with his ruby, even showing little interest to Kalma himself. He feels the anger knowing it won't go without hell braking loose and he will need and seek cure for it, before the dead come sailing home..

"Curse me blood! Curse all the knife'ears and may they rot in the seventh! Aye! And they shall if that is the toll I must pay. Me blood will burn new again, soon.."