<strong>Konrad, on deck.</strong><br/><br/>Konrad found the pirate life to be for him. He disliked the strict uniformity of being on-board a British ship. They were always very pompous and looked down their noses at you. But here, on board this ship, no one looked down at him. They were all equals. Of course, being taller then most on board made sure they all had to look up to him. And the fighting - the stuff he lived for - was far more exciting as a Pirate. It was more about survival then winning.<br/><br/>Konrad was sitting on deck, running a wet-stone along the blade of the cutlass he always wore at his hip. His Musket was not far away - resting against the bulwark within reach - but he knew he'd have plenty of time to assemble once the order was given. He was not liking the rough seas, however, his strokes along the blade being a little slower and more cautious lest he chip or damage the blade.<br/><br/>He was immediately on his feet when the Captain called them all to stations. He quickly sheathed his sword and grabbed his musket, loading it up in record time before moving to the railings. His large bulk, while nimble, was not meant for climbing overhead. He was much better off on deck anyways - he liked getting personal with those he was about to kill.