Weston Hall stood at the helm and looked the the sky worriedly though several minutes ago he had been setting a new course for the ship to travel. The sky was grey and overcast, and the wind was beginning to howl around the ship, tossing it over the waves in an unsteady rhythm. Of course the Red Saber was in bad shape as it was after the gruesome battle that had just occurred. Luckily they had defeated the other crew, but with a price.
Wes could hear the ship groan menacingly as she was tossed about. He knew that there were men below deck, trying to fix the many small leaks that had been caused by lead cannonballs. They would have little time before the storm really began, and if their work wasn't finished, well, the ship would go down much easier than it should be able too. The wind howled, and Wes heard a shout from above, someone in the crow's nest was signaling that lighting had been spotted.
“Good lord," Wes muttered, looking back to the brewing disaster above. “Batten down the hatches!" He shouted to the crew, making his way towards the captain, who was in the lower-deck at the moment, reviewing ammunition stores. He kept his hands stretched out to keep his balance, for now the ship was tilting violently back and forth. He made his way below deck.
“Oy Fitzroy!" He called as a sudden lurch tossed him sideways and he had to steady himself on the musty wall. “If this storm is as bad as it looks, we'll be shark bait before you know it." He thought of the churning waters below the ship and wondered if the Red Saber could survive such a storm, especially after an attack.