You groan as your wrists are finally released from their bindings. You were starting to feel like a salami. The rest of your old crewmates seem to be in a similar state, after being tossed around and tied up for days, after Orphaner Dualscar’s crew had raided your ship and taken you as prisoners.

"Alright, you bunch o' land dwelling scum, you got enough rest! Time to get to work!" Captain Dualscar barks. You, being one of the few that can read, get lucky and get assigned to keep the logbook. You’re perplexed at first, assuming Dualscar could read and write himself, but you’re informed by him that “keeping the logbook” means “recording his noble life for the future generations to come.” His men snicker at his words, probably taking the piss at their captain. Although why he lets it happen confuses you. Must be a pretty liberal crew.

“Oh, you’re here. Take a seat.” He mutters, before starting to narrate the events of the day, the route of the ship and the weather report. As you scrunch your eyebrows and try to write straight, he peeks over your shoulder at the book. “Nice handwriting, mate.” He pats your back vigorously. His smile gets smarmy, and now you understand why those sailors were snickering like that. His hand travels from your back to your shoulders, rubbing them uncomfortably. “Say, how about a nice massage for yer new captain?”