The north wind doth blow

So there we had it – phase 1 of the recruitment drive was, in a manner of speaking, over. That is to say, my crew wasn’t going to get any bigger if I just sat here supping my ale and scratching my bedsores. For enlistment to begin in earnest, I really needed to get out of my comfy chair and onto the road.

But where to start?

“Arrr”, said the first mate – prefacing a nugget of her cruel wisdom – “this place be full of cissy stock. A hive of scum and villainy is what you’ll be needin’, and none more wretched than the one I knows no man knows not says I,” she said.

(I record her words verbatim to maintain her central thesis, since, aside from its lack of pluperfect tense, I am still not au fait with the intricacies of pirate grammar.)

I asked her to clarify.

“Doncaster.”

Heavens to Betsy! Of course! The Gateway to the North! From time immemorial the town has been a hotbed of felony, and if anyone knew anything about anybody around that way, I knew just the woman: Peg-Leg Lynn – fighter, biter, and all-round gossip.


Human resources manager:
Peg-Leg Lynn "The Lyncher"
Likes: Norse gods
Dislikes: Morse code