The Meeting

[Junes]

Andrew was leaning against the table, his hand folded and with his left eyebrow raised while watching Olaf stuttering and drooling like a child. As he fell over and spilled both beverage and saliva of interesting colour all over scruffy clothes, ground and furniture, Andrew began to wonder how a drunkard of this kind actually managed to obtain the command of a battleship. He drew the conclusion that every Hessian commanding a warship needed to be similar to Olaf, who relied on roaring manliness, raw barbarism and coarse charisma rather than professionalism, sublimity and sophistication. Andrew generally disliked these people, he didn't get along with brutes. Andrew tried to be a gentleman wherever possible and suitable. Mostly in his way of conversing with others, and especially with the poor souls he was about to take away their most precious possessions of. He admitted that it had not always been like that. Being forced to operate with bad company ruined both character and manners, that is, with mindless killers or bloodthirsty lunatics. Olaf resembled a bloodthirsty lunatic.. with a serious alcohol issue. Andrew ordered another drink and intended to interrogate Olaf about his religious beliefs.. more for amusement than actual information.

"You all right there? Your Odin must have vested you with a specially robust liver..."