"If you hadn't been so damned reckless we wouldn't be in this predicament now would we?" A clearly angry voice bellowed. The man being held under the heavy boot at his throat struggled to get free, finding no purchase in the muddied ground below him.<br/><br/>"Falkor please, I...I'll pay you back! I promise! Please!" The man pleaded, his dirty hands clutching at the boot nearly crushing his windpipe. The man whom the boot belonged to looked down at the man, arms crossed and expression unreadable.<br/><br/>"You're lucky that I'm in a good mood." Falkor spoke, relieving some of the pressure from the downed man's throat until he was able to scramble to his knees.<br/><br/>"Th...thank you! I would disappoint you again captain." The man sputtered as he got shakily to his feet. A slow grin spread across Falkor's face before he answered.<br/><br/>"No, you won't. Three seconds." The man looked confused, his eyes following his captain's hand to the pistol hanging at his hip. Then it made sense. Not even bothering to turn and run, the man bolted straight past the tall man.<br/><br/>"One." Falkor counted, turning on his heel and pulling the pistol out. The man fell with a cry, his skull shattered from the impact of the ball. As Falkor watched the body slump into the mud, he felt a presence at his elbow.<br/><br/>"Captain, sir, this here letter was on it's way to the chief. Thought you'd want to take a look first." A short man handed the envelope up to Falkor who sliced it open with a small knife before pulling the folded sheet out and reading it.<br/><br/>Looks like their southern brethren were having some problems.<br/><br/>"Set sails for Aldavia, boys." A cheer went up as the remaining crew members hurried to carry out their captain's orders, not wanting to follow in the footsteps of their dead comrade.