Command the fleet

By Sea Sea Marshal Command
Slippery Sam's Bar and Grill
Slippery Sam's Bar and Grill

Flotsam Conquers The Central Isles

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Flotsam Conquers The Central Isles

#1
Beaching his rusty corvette on the spit below Sam's, Flotsam limped ashore.

The north wind swept the empty streets as he climbed the last hill into town.

A feeling of dread had decended over the once thriving, if ill reputed, hamlet.

Once home to boistrous, drunken mariners, and those who longed to become so, the fabled islands have become no more than a land-locked ghost ship. The garbage strewn streets and shabby buildings remain, seemingly untouched, but no voices break the wind's shrill song.

Flotsam, realizing at last that the islands had truly been deserted, quickened his pace. To some, this lonely, long-awaited homecoming would chill their souls.

To the old privateer, lurching quickly up the street, it was just the realization that, somewhere behind Sam's long bar, was an unguarded barrel of rum, anxiously awaiting his arrival.

Flotsam paused, briefly, at the door to Sam's. He looked out over the darkened, lonely islands, his eyes, squinted protectively against the windblown sea spray. His gaze swept searchingly over the broken windows lining the narrow, wet street, then paused, for a moment, on the rusty, unmanned gun emplacements, before coming to rest softly on the achingly empty, whitecapped lagoon.

"I claim these islands in the name of... uh, ...Me I suppose." he growled, then, turning to push through the front doors, he headed round back of the bar in search of grog to toast the apparent victory.

flotsam 8)

Flotsam Conquers The Central Isles

#5
Spotting a flawless first-class Warship (or if you prefer a rusty Corvette) docked in the harbor Argon could not resist the impulse. While Flot was Busy conquering Sam's Tavern, Argon climbed aboard and started barking orders to get her under way. The few remaining crewmembers were falling all over each other trying to carry out the barrage of orders that flowed from Argon?s Sea woven dialect like sea spray in a nor'easter.

As Argon and crew head for the High Sea?s Flot is seen at the Dock waving goodbye with his one good finger. Argon points out to the Crew that even their former captain is signaling that he is number one....

Flotsam Conquers The Central Isles

#9
Smurfs!
Beaching his rusty corvette on the spit below Sam's, Flotsam limps ashore
... and I"m supposed to fear the frog? [Rofl, falling off the bar room stool .. more rofl]

Hey Flotie ... doh .. that corvet needed beaching alright.. and not because its a rust bucket, but because it's full of "T"-Torps!

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