A girl sat in an old wooden chair in the pub. She was tied up with a shipping rope. Her mouth was gagged with a bandanna. All around her, brawny men where signing in a drunken off-key tone, “For she's a jolly good fella, For she's a jolly good fella, for she's a jolly good fella, which nobody can deny!” A big man with black rubber boots and a thick brown coat lumbered up to the girl. With a wave of his hand he silenced the other guards.
“Would ya like a swig, lass?” He pulled the bandanna out of her mouth. She spit in his face.
“You disgust me,” She growled.
“ You'll drink and you'll like it!” The Captain said. With thick grubby fingers he pried open her lower jaw and poured the rum down her throat. She coughed and stuttered. A smile grew on the Captain's face. Slowly he walked around to the other side of the chair and patted the girl hard on the back. She coughed.
“Now,” He hissed. “ You'll tell me what you know.”
“Never,” She said. The Captain's smile faded. “The knowledge of the Streetrat Clan is the knowledge of the Streetrat Clan, and there's alone.” Angrily he tipped over her chair and her back hit the ground. Her face began to redden.
“You are a menace to society.” She yelled. The captain twirled around and pulled his dagger, touching it to her nose.
“ I uphold the law in this town. If it weren't for me it'd all be in ruins.”
“ Ha! Uphold the law! If it weren't for you the town would be short a drunkard! The whole town is already run through with outlaws and vagabonds. Where have you and your little whelches been, ey? Drinking the town's good rum!” The Captain fumed. He slapped her across the face.
“ If I were you I'd learn to hold my tongue, lass!” He stormed off, calling behind him, “ Throw her to the fishes!”
