tragedy-art (November-2024)

'Ye olde Whales and Tails Yacht Club'

The coast was deserted; the custom houses brought in no income these days. Desolate wasteland was all that was left - the forests were chopped down for their valuable wood. Wood was more valuable, back then, the Bardur menaced the world with their wintery forest powered economy;

The bartender laughed and pointed to an old framed map - "hehe, why, now, you only get a single star for cutting down a whole square tiles worth of forest. And you thank them for it!"

"With whaling worthless, do you know how many families went bankrupt? All the harpoon factories were sold off overnight. The whole Kickoo tribe was thrown off its game."

... starfish? Blegh! Starfish just ain't the same. They spoil fast, don't taste good, and are difficult to harvest. Is why we don't sell any 'star-frys', pah! I prefer me a good ol' fashioned whale stew, with my whale oil candles and my great whale perfume!"

The double door to the bar swings open. A well-cut man walks in, grimacing at the interior.

"Oh, him? He's an old fella, goes by the name of Jimmy J Janks.. We call him Jj. Used to drive a mean sailing ship upgrading business, but them new regulations means he can't upgrade no more ships. Not without angering the world police who control the square."

Hearing this, Jj shakes and yells, "It's a goddamg conspiracy I tells ya! Those evil environmentalists want to take 'er jerbs!"

The patrons in the bar all a'start a'hootin and a'hollering, one sailor in a white hat starts smoking and a piping and another goes on tooting his whistle. It is complete chaos, someone starts throwing a chair, another brings out a club, one person takes out a rock and assembles a catapult. It's a veritable miniature square. Something hits you..

You black out.

When you wake up, you feel a pain in your back. You have a tail. Your skin feels slippery. Your hair is gone. Everything is dark and wet.

You could go for some fish right now.