"Anyway, as I was saying, this big pink-feathered bird-looking thing, but with three arms and a lot of eyes on one side of it's head comes charging outta that circle, beak wide open, screeching "Free! Free! Kill! Kill! Kill!" I damned near pissed my trousers right then. It picks up this table like it was nothing, and throws it out of the way. I'm standing there, trying to keep my sword and board between it and that big priest I know you've seen and one of those little frogmen while they whip up the last of their magic. That hole there on my shield? That big bastard's beak did that, first thing. Hell of a fight.
"The priest's hired man or sword brother or whatever he was got pasted by the pink bastard, but not without honor. The rest of us managed to hang on, until that priest finally put it down for good. Gods, but we were chewed up and spit out. Hell of a fight.
"No, I'm not from here. From the Great Beyond, or whatever you folks call it. I lived in a place that was ice and rock, and little else. The sea, though - I know the sea. Grew up fishing; that's what you do when you're your father's second son. At least until you're old enough to raid. Which I did.
"Another drink? Sure, I'll spot you one. Tell me your tale, friend. I think I'm going to stick around the Rust Gate, at least until I finish healing up. After that, who knows? I'm sure there's work for one who's looking, and I need to get to know the people."
-- overheard in a bilge saloon in the Rust Gate of HMS Apollyon