( Jim gets a curious little glance for that remark, but Leonard simply follows him quietly, a hand tucked over his chest.
The next deck down is the small gun deck, which the sailors seem to have also used for their Mess– tables and benches between the dozen or so cannons –and their berths, hammocks rolled up and out of the way.
With the hatches closed against the weather, the place is dark, aside from the odd bit of lantern light penetrating the gloom. Mercifully, no dead come rushing out at them, and though the deck itself is still wet, few of anything else is– whatever magical preservation the kraken wielded in its grip was here, too.
Leonard pauses on the step above Jim's to let his eyes adjust, listening to the ship groan softly in the waves. )
no subject
The next deck down is the small gun deck, which the sailors seem to have also used for their Mess– tables and benches between the dozen or so cannons –and their berths, hammocks rolled up and out of the way.
With the hatches closed against the weather, the place is dark, aside from the odd bit of lantern light penetrating the gloom. Mercifully, no dead come rushing out at them, and though the deck itself is still wet, few of anything else is– whatever magical preservation the kraken wielded in its grip was here, too.
Leonard pauses on the step above Jim's to let his eyes adjust, listening to the ship groan softly in the waves. )
Looks like a museum.