The Black Ale

Sails!

A tall man with shaggy black hair stood tall as the night sky loomed above the cold dark waters. His cold dark eyes narrowed at the island in the distance. They slowly looked up to the full red moon, taking up much of the sky. Leaving it's own astonishing presents to over come the stars. 

He licked his dry lips as the yells and orders rang about the night air. He looked back to his ship and crew. Men he had spent many years upon the sea with. Each one had their own story to tell, each one a purpose as to why or how they found their way onto his ship. 

And each one he held dearly to his heart. 

He would never say it or show it, but this was his family. His friends, his crew. 

His ship was his home and their home. Their grounds for battle, life and wealth. 

"Captain." A voice grabbed his attention.

He slowly looked to the figure standing on the main deck at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the quarterdeck. 

The man before him was his Quartermaster. A man chosen by his crew to voice their opinions and to look out for them... In case the Captain chose his own gain over their lives. 

Remington was not just chosen for his leadership among the men. He held a great aura around him. Calm and collected, but would act when needed. 

He was tall, with shoulder length brown hair, he would keep in a loose hair tie. His eyes were a bright green and his skin was tan from the days he spent at sea. He was built with a slim frame, which gave him a cunning movement when in battle. His facial expression was always calm and showed independence. He was a man of few words at times, but when he spoke, his words held great meaning and a deep calming tone. 

Captain Masa of the Black Ale nodded quietly to his Quartermaster. Giving him the floor to speak. 

"Everything is in order, Captain." Rem stated firmly. 

Masa nodded once again. 

Masa watched as Rem turned on his heels and moved back into the crowd of men rushing about the main deck. 

This was the night to remember... This was the night they would forever make history remember them. 

Masa clenched his teeth as his eyes narrowed at the thought. His heart slowly began to race within his chest as he could taste their ever lasting existence. The chance to live forever...

The chance to burn their existence into history. 

Masa looked to his left to find an even younger man at the helm of his ship. The pilot that sailed the Black Ale into many battles and then sailed them home. He was young, maybe too young when he first took hold of the Black Ale. His soft light brown hair tied back with a red and black cloth, beads decorated a few strands of hair that slipped over the cloth. His skin pale and his eyes a light brown. 

His name was Seven, or that's the name he was given before finding his way onto Masa's ship. He was about seventeen when he joined, not he was rounding to his early twenties, but still looked like that seventeen year old... The one that could sail the Black Ale like no other. Masa and others were indeed surprised at how well the young lad quickly adapted to sailing. Even against harsh strong winds and storms that rained for days. 

He watched as Seven let his hands grip around the large wheel. Waiting for the right moments to gently guide the ship closer to their destination. 

They wouldn't be going much further... Hopefully...

Masa looked to his left expecting to find his navigator, but found and empty spot. He gritted his teeth as a light growl emerged from the back of his throat.