09-14-2016, 10:36 PM
A rumbling followed by a shout from Swiggins in the bowels of the hull couple themselves with the clatter of tools working.
"IT BE ME SHIP AND ME BROTHER, THAT BE THE ZIGGURAT!"
His tone lowers not by much as he continues to work and speaks with Wizwik, the constant rhythm of his tools giving a smile from ear to ear.
"Mate a toast be for a gathering o' folk or a celebration of something real big, when we lose daylight and me bones grow weary as the dead we can drink, drink, drink till ye can match me own gut. Till then though get ya self armed up and reinforcing the starboard hull. I know ya know enough to smith so take up a hammer and let's see ya work."
"IT BE ME SHIP AND ME BROTHER, THAT BE THE ZIGGURAT!"
His tone lowers not by much as he continues to work and speaks with Wizwik, the constant rhythm of his tools giving a smile from ear to ear.
"Mate a toast be for a gathering o' folk or a celebration of something real big, when we lose daylight and me bones grow weary as the dead we can drink, drink, drink till ye can match me own gut. Till then though get ya self armed up and reinforcing the starboard hull. I know ya know enough to smith so take up a hammer and let's see ya work."
(OOG: Christian Kimmerer - Medical Marshal)