Nancey's Pirate Tavern was a well known drinking spot for either the unlawful and a watering hole for whelps, cowards, scallywags and blaggards and the perfect place for a certain someone to lay low.<br/>â€œAnother round you swit!â€ Said a man with a strangled bearded, bad breath and the looks only a mother could love but the body to backup his threats but not the brain capacity to know his own faults for the man was angered that he lost to another in a drinking game, a drinking game he never lost at, a drinking game he lost and thus lost his bet of two silver small bars, â€œTsk, now, now calm youâ€™ve lost fair and square pay up.â€ A hand was open across the rounded wooden table, splintered like a porcupines back and none too clear either but on the surface were a dozen empty grog mugs and two dozen more on the floor all tipped over and in a mess. The aggressive pirate pulled out a pistol on the offering hand and slowly aimed at the gentleman to whom is belonged to, suddenly the shaded man slapped the pistol onto the table and leaned forward with a smile that could melt any heart into what he desired, man or woman.<br/><br/>â€œThen letâ€™s make the game interesting shall we!â€ The figure revealed thick unkempt dark brown hair in a wavy mess, Caucasian skin with light tanning from the sun, dark brown eyes and a fairly handsome face or at least what passes for handsome around here. The manâ€™s clothing made him stick out like a sore thumb, a ripped under shirt that used to be a clear white, obviously dirtied up and torn knee trousers that were loose around the ankles but fairly pressed against the thighs and knees, thick black lengthy boots that tucked the loose ends of the trousers in and an over coat which hung loosely over the mans shoulders, black base colour with highlighted golden threads as decor, the arms dangled from not being used.<br/><br/>The build of the man was, average, standing around six foot with no outrageous muscles to show for it accepts the outlines of said muscles that were seen through the tears of his clothing, most of which he either stole or beat people to near death, then stole. â€œRigh, whatâ€™s the stakes?â€ Argued the pirate as he attempted to withdraw the pistol however the shaded man would not have him do so â€œsimple, your life or mineâ€ still a smile was wrapped across his expression, his eyes gazed deep into the bulked pirates â€œAnd how are we gonna do this then eh?â€ a quick reply was made to such a simple question â€œDrinking game....â€<br/><br/>The barrel of the pistol was aiming at the shaded man and the pirates finger weighed heavily on it and his eyes kept their dizzy dance as they attempted to lock with the gentlemanâ€™s â€œWhatâ€™s your name eh?â€ A simple question for simple answers â€œWinters, I wonâ€™t ask for yours however.â€  The pirate perked a brow and blubbered forwards hitting the table with his finger pressing against the trigger â€œWhyâ€™s that?â€ His words held the intention of actually shooting his opponent and hung in the air with his breath following close behind, then, a loud burst followed by a crackling sound flung through the tavern and outside the doors. The drunkard looked at himself with a red patch of blood drizzling down his shirt, then legs, then boots following the thump of his body with his head hitting the side of the table before the clutter of his being hit the ground. Winterâ€™s stood and through the pistol he used away whilst holding a tankard of rum in the other hand, â€œBecause youâ€™ll be deadâ€ he tossed a coin on the body and shoved his way through the crowds of men, they didnâ€™t seem to even notice from the loud commotion they were all making at one time â€œA shame, I was looking forward to another drinkâ€<br/><br/>Winter was heading towards the entrance of the tavern before some moronic lout hit the drink out of his hand, his face gazed in horror as the liquid essence of his happiness splattered all over the floor like a murdered puppyâ€™s brains and there was terror in his eyes were quickly overcome by a sensation of warmth, the idiot that spilt his drink clumsily flung his hand on Winterâ€™s shoulder, burped in his face and even relieved himself in the process whilst attempting to say sorry but the words came out in a language no one on this planet could understand â€œka-boomâ€ were the only words that left his mouth, his finger pressed lightly onto his lips and he blew his own beer barring breath onto the tip of his fingers, his fingers let out a small baby flame but grew into a large ball of fire, the alcoholic breath spewed into the ball and created a stream of grizzly fire that blew up half of the tavern, leaving the other half intact but partly on fire . Winter was upset as he put out his finger that were still alight, he only meant to kill the man that split his drink leaving him in a pile of ash but those who were caught in the blast were unfortunately left with severe burns with the woodworks aflame and smoke rising from the wrecked side of the tavern.<br/><br/>Nine-Lives Winters turned his gaze on the others â€œAnyone else wana spill my drinks huh?!â€ His tone of voice changed into a more pirate like accent and the seriousness in his eyes said he would literally skin and cook anyone alive, his eye twitched from the lesser responses as he was still burnt up about the drink â€œThe flings gone now, Iâ€™m outta hereâ€ and with those words Winters left the scene with what was left of the Tavern, his overcoat following him in the small gusts of wind that blew that day. It didnâ€™t take him long to find that the Rotsman had come into port, a perked brow and a partly open mouth told those who saw him the familiarity he had with that ship, but beaten and broken and flow of worry crinkled his brow and with sights lay on the damage that had been dealt the honest truth was it looked like it had been in a war and scraped by its whiskers to safety.<br/><br/>Winters strode towards the ship and saw that others were repairing it, a sigh of relief escaped Winters but still he had to get on to that ship. It wasnâ€™t long ago that he heard the ship was recruiting and as such he did exactly what came to mind, he simply approached a shipmate of the Rotsman and asked â€œI want to join your crewâ€ the inquest was responded with a swift short tone â€œSure thing, find yourself a cabin itâ€™s on the second-â€œWinterâ€™s interrupted â€œI know where it is.â€  The shipmate gave Winterâ€™s a look as he was hoisted up to the shipâ€™s deck by those above, it didnâ€™t take him long to reach the Rotsman but the height would make any normal man squeal, a wonder how these men found the nuts to do repairs outside and in. Winterâ€™s stood on the wrecked deck as it was slowly but surely being repaired; an inhale was taken in by Winterâ€™s and then a slow and steady exhale<span style="font-style: italic"> brings back memories</span>Winterâ€™s thought to himself as his eyes steadily drew towards the captains cabins.