The day was grey
They day was bad…
The colorless clouds of a stormy depression rolled in to Stormalong harbor on the evening tide. It blanketed the entire city in a fog so thick that a man could only see ten feet in any direction from where he was standing. The only sign of life was the bright light, coming from a building that illuminated off the banks of fog which surrounded it.
Hassled and old the "Candy Barrel", was a sight unlike any other. Its seasoned boards and rotted railing only gave testament to its age. It was surprising, because it had only been erected only a near 15 years ago, but that's what the sea does. It makes all things age more quickly, even the inhabitants who gave residence there, were old in appearance.
Inside they lounged around, the former sailors, mariners, town craftsmen, and seamstresses who had gathered for their usual exchange of knowledge and know about. As usual it was dead silent. No t a word whispered to anyone, all there were, were a bunch of sad and cumbersome eyes staring around at scene that had all seen many times before.
At the entrance there sat the young boy with blonde hair leaning over the table, pondering in deep perplexity over a cup of dice he had been dealt to him by the blue sailor who sat across from him. They both gazed and waited for the other. It had been an endless dice game, playing the blue sailors favorite: Liar's dice. They simply stared.
Next to them was the town's chirurgeon, a middle aged man with deep wrinkles and a bloated body. He was a doctor, of sorts, most thought he was an empiric, but they respected him nonetheless for his excellent handling with the knife under pressure. Every called him Doctor, or as he preferred: Doctor Barber, as he ran a small barber shop that was located next to his medical practice. His long side burns whisked effortlessly as he sat and whittled what looked like back scratcher or a shoe horn.
Behind the counter stood a scrawny man of his late twenties who monotonously scrubbed a cup that was used for the consumption of candy. His hair was neatly combed to one side, held in place by hair gel. His glasses were big and circular, standing firmly erected of his straight features. He was the proprietor: Larry, or his self-proclaimed title: Peppermint Larry. He had a deep love of candy, or so it seemed. He had gone so far as to make a living manikin of a woman out of candy which he deemed his: "Candy Wife", which he preferred to keep in a booth at the back of his establishment. Most people thought he was sane enough, just a light hearted fellow who was lonely. He hummed a tune as he continued to rub the glass he had rubbed for hours, on a spot that would never come off.
Suddenly the wind howled and shrieked a terrifying rattle that shook the entire building. Everyone held their breath for the brief moment the element rattled the wooden timbers. Peppermint Larry stepped from outside the bar to the window. "Sure is windy outside." He said as he went to shut the window. When he grabbed the shutter a gust of wind unlike any before pounded into the dock causing the window to unlatch and go flying halfway across the room, hitting a table where the lamp was. The lamp turned over and was extinguished causing the entire Candy Barrel to be consumed in darkness. The blonde boy named Flapjack sat looking at his dice saying calmly, "Four 3's" K'nuckles, the blue sailor, grabbed the dice containers in blind furry and threw them into the wind.
He sat down and explained, "You were cheating, me boy."
"But Captain…" the boy said confused.
"No, buts!!" he exclaimed, "As a sailor you know I can't lose. So why did you try to win?!"
Flapjack looked sadly down and said in a mild voice "I'm sorry."
As they continued talking about the moral obligations of a sailor and an adventurer the rest of the people took cover behind their booths as flying debris and particles flew through the broken windows causing a whirlwind of liter to go every which way in the Candy Barrel. Thunder resonated like cannon fire in the distance, as hurricane force wind rocked the port, causing every loose board to creak and crackle und the tyrannical might of the gale.
Out of the darkness stepped a figure into the "Candy Barrel." He was hardly discernable but some of his clothing was apparent. He wore a sailor's cap laced with gold rope, he clothes were covered in oilskins, and he wore knee high leather boots.
Battered and weary, he stepped into the Candy Barrel, when he did the wind died down enough for someone to light a candle and see what was occurring. The man stood rugged and stern, with his oil skins flapping behind him. "I need help" he said plainly.
"Don't we all." Someone remarked.
"This is no time for jokes. Me and me' daughter were out on our dingy when the storm blew in. It capsized, leaving her to float away on a piece of wood. I managed to swim to shore and run five miles here. We need to act immediately while we are in the eye of the storm. "
Everyone hesitantly started getting up from their booths. "Aye, we got to form rescue parties."
"It's her only chance."
They all started leaving the establishment one by one to help the sailor, expect for one. The blonde headed boy was already gone…