The night started quite normally, except for the brawl in which half of the crew managed to participate. Eventually, when everyone was separated, most of the sailors couldn't explain who was to blame for the fight and which side they were fighting on.Nevertheless, Ple-Sen was declared the culprit and sent to the crow's nest to sit alone.
Nebu was bothered by the broken railing on the starboard side. After a few sips of rum, he decided that night was the best time to fix it. The overconfident repairman almost fell overboard, but was grabbed by the collar at the last moment.
Despite her tough nature, Naiko quickly got tired of the lewd looks and harassment from other sailors. She would like to be alone for a while, but that's impossible on the ship. Nevertheless, it was still better than a crowd of religious fanatics.
Heroist ran around the deck with a worried face, patting his tattered pockets. His gaze suddenly froze on a bag of salt. Without saying anything, he tore open the bag and began to sprinkle salt around himself. This act of wasteful consumption was quickly interrupted by a firm slap on the back of the head from the quartermaster.
Everyone rushed to the starboard side, where they saw a boat bobbing in the waves with the lifeless body of Zlobny Yashur. Apparently, he had no serious injuries. Only a small red dot was visible on his forehead. None of us understood what Yashur was doing in the boat, and who could have killed him. Some newcomers theorized that the captain wanted to get rid of a competitor, but I think that's nonsense. But one thing is for sure - in Yashur, we lost a first-class killer in the swamps.
Clue - a first-class killer in the swamps.
In the process of dealing with Yashur's body, no one noticed how the ship got into a cloud of thick fog. Only later did we realize that we had gotten too close to the Misty Rocks, and the ship would have crashed into them if it hadn't been for sheer luck. The captain was furious and ordered the helmsman Morning to be punished with ten lashes. But the punishment was not to be carried out, as there was no one at the helm - Morning had disappeared without a trace. Two sailors desperately rushed to look for him, but it was all in vain. On the helm hung only a small piece of cloth with an unremoved tag, which read "Made by the dangerous baby Strela from Gilead."