The soft sounds of the sea whisked through the air, adding towards the commotion on board a particularly odd shaped Galleon. It had a wide hull with a huge cargo capacity. But something was not right...there had to be something better than this. It was time for a new vessel.<br/><br/>"Arrrrright me crew! This be your cap'n speaking. I think it be time fer a change!" Captain Tom Leumas, for it was he, was addressing his crew. The sorry saps turned head and beard, looking round for new orders. The captain scowled. He just realized he hated his crew! Why, the just on the last adventure they nearly got him killed looking for those durned east indies! They couldn't be trusted. The crew noticed his expression and a collective grumble worked its way through the group.<br/><br/>"Quit yer whinning you bunch of scurry toe rags! I find me self in need of a new ship. But I won't be sailing the great seas with the likes of your ilk. It be time for a new crew as well! You lot can jus' take yer share of t'booty, I'll be back with me new crew but I'll be keepin' two of you." He departed off into the sea port, determined to search out the most excitable band of misfits he could find.<br/><br/>He returned near sunset, to his new ship and with his new crew. Only two remained, so he wouldn't have to pick. He most trusted master gunner and first-mate-quartermaster...thing. "Very well!" he shouted to his new crew. A ship had been brought around by the sea faring folk. The best frigate his coin could buy. They would be needing the extra firepower when it came to sailing<span style="font-style: italic">these</span>high seas. "All aboard me maties! Tonight, we dine on fine wine and bitches!" There was a roar of approval from the new crew. He smirked, amused through his thick ginger beard. It was a point of interest on flowing mane of ginger locks, though none questioned his weave. It was a wonder he hadn't become red beard by now.<br/><br/>Donning his newest pirate hat, Tom Leumas manned a post aboard his new dog. "Rrrriight!" He shouted while the crew settled in. "Well we can't set sail until we have ourselves a name for this great beast!"<br/><br/>"ARRRGH!" they returned.<br/><br/>"Now let me see..." He pondered aloud. "What we need is a name that will make all the other ship's shiver their timbers...in a manner of sayin'." He paused for a moment, checking that his deck was indeed being mopped. "YOU THERE!" He barked at a swabbie. "What is yer name?" The quivering lass stood up to her fullest height and declared,<br/><br/>"M-molly, sir!" She quipped. The captain clapped.<br/><br/>"Commere Molly, I be havin' a new post for you!" The lassie clamored over as best she could without tripping. "You can take care of some cookin' and cleanin' around the inner quarters." She nodded, grateful she would no longer be out in the elements. Tom Leumas clasped his broad arm around the lass's shoulders.<br/><br/>"Aye, dis be the one lads! All hands on deck, man the sails, get me a sandwich! We be setting the Molly Whop on 'er first run ofth' sea."