The Oil Slick – an aptly named bar riddled with age and barnacles but a sanctuary to the swarm of deckhands and sailors that spend their days scurrying across the rotting hulls of ships and their nights slipping into a drunken stupor... It’s a rough bar, where a careless comment will earn you a punch to the face and a long fall into the grimy waters below. . A sudden brilliance of light flows in from the gap. A sudden pitter and the latch falls down, soft footsteps retreating from the cabin. The light disappears.