Utterly Mad

A lone flame flickers in his cabin, filling the air with the smell of combusted smoke and the faint smell of burning wax as he lit the candle on the far corner of his desk. He then took the match and lit his tobacco filled pipe, taking a deep breath of the smooth flavor and blowing out all the wispy smoke on his desk; it flowing and curling like an ocean's tide dissipating at shore. On his desk were maps, ledgers, and books about places he's been and places he hand't been too. The Captain had been smacking his gums at the crew for the past couple of hours now, introducing the crew, telling them what fine young men and women they are, yadda yadda; chances are these kids'll be dead by the end of the week.

With the muffled shouting of his Captain ceasing and the faint rapping on his door he knew it was time to pick a place to go. "Aye' Cap'n ye be needin' me?", his boots tromping his way into the lavish quarters, maps and notes under his arm. As he waits for a responded he begins sucking on his pipe (smacking his lips in the process), and blows smoke rings into the low-hanging ceiling of the cabin.