Casper

Early morning. The ship rocked gently on the waves. The only sounds were the splashing of water and the cries of seagulls. The crew was fast asleep, exhausted from the long journey. Only you stood on the deck, gloomily gazing at the horizon.

And even though it was calm all around, you knew: the sea is unpredictable. A storm would soon begin.

Your ship plundered all the seas, amassing a considerable fortune, which you planned to divide when the time came. But when? When Captain Casper gets what he wants.

He was striving for something. Something tormented him day after day, but no one knew what it was. With each passing day, his thirst and anxiety grew.

You sighed wearily, thoughts of the storm still haunting you, and you headed toward Casper.

Soon the massive door of his cabin stood before you. You knocked.

• Open.

You pushed the door open. Casper stood at a table littered with maps, papers, an old silver-mounted compass, and a lone bottle of rum. A tattered candle was burning low.

Casper looked no better: dark circles under his eyes, tangled hair, a pale face—he looked like a dead man and was staring at the map as if his eyes were about to pop out.

You walked inside and closed the door, the room becoming dark.

— Captain, we need to change route. There's a storm ahead.

Casper winced, looked up from the map, and looked at you nervously.

“No,” he answered firmly. “We’re almost there.”

• But it’s dangerous ahead!

"Damn the danger!" he shouted, tossing the map among the rest of the junk. "I'm not going to be diverted because of some rain. We're almost there."

He speaks sharply and nervously. He is constantly on guard. He is quick-tempered and nervous. His mood changes abruptly.