Outside, thunder clapped and lightning flashed, the sea rose and sank in a undeterminable pattern. The ship tore through the water, its solid bow colliding forcefully against the waves, the sound of impact disappearing in the noise of sky and sea. Drops of water drizzled endlessly, hitting the ship like a cacophony of small arrows, though the ship kept strong. Under the deck, the dry mess room is filled with the thick scent of soup and roasted meat, people roaring in laughter as flagons of mead slammed against each other. All the tables filled with all sorts of faces - some had the pampered faces of young nobles and aspiring heroes; others the gruff and lined faces of grown men and women, a stoic aura around them; erudite sages and crones scattered about, trading knowledge and wisdom; flamboyant merchants and rambunctious conmen trying to grab the spotlight with their deal; there are even a few minstrels singing and playing their instruments energetically. Warmth pervaded every corner of the mess hall.
At the direction of the quarterdeck, the loud clanger of metal pans and pots rang, a rowdy group of cooks arguing over which food is best to serve. A counter separates this group from the others receiving hot bowls of soup and heavy platters of meat, a row of stoves boiling and broiling, the loudest in the group is a short old hunched hag with a rough gritty voice and raggy purple robes. "SECRET INGREDIENT!", she growled towards the other cooks, tossing a slab of mystery meat into her pot of soup. The other cooks distance themselves from her with trepidation, staring at her gnarled fingers, her long green hair and wrinkly blue skin giving her an even more fearsome look. One of her eyes is prominently larger than the other, and somewhat out of the socket; yellow with a red dot for a pupil. She swung a ladle with her other hand, trying to keep anyone from getting a look into her pot. A cackle would occasionally escape her lips as she kept tossing ingredient into the bowl.
To the sides, the windows are closed and tied, wooden slabs keeping the water from splashing in. Sticking closer to the walls are the loner types and sketchy groups, sitting silently on their stools in relative silence. A few discussing a topic here and there, some probably shady, others sipping their mead and chewing their meals without a sound. The noisiest part of the room is naturally the middle, men and women trading tall tales and idle chatter. A handful of drinking competitions are held my cliques and parties, but none of that beats the huge man surrounded by hordes of people, entire casks of booze beside him, some filled, many empty. The crowd roared in excitement as they saw him guzzle another barrel's worth of alcohol. He laughed loudly, his short bushy beard shivering as the folds on his body rolled with his laughter. Wearing nothing on his torso, his thick chest hair is there for the world to see, leather shorts clinging lightly on his thick legs. A pair of tusks protrude from the corners of his mouth, giving him a barbaric look that pairs with his light brown skin and bald head.
Towards the way upstairs, a soft glow of red emitting from his hands, is a tall red skinned fellow in leather armor. Facing the stairs, the red glow from his hands sent waves of heat at the water pouring from above. His face half covered by his leather cap, he stood there quietly, keeping the water at bay. On his side is a steel longsword with flame designs across the blade, the hilt a crimson red with very faint runes glowing on it. Just from a glance, one could tell that he's likely the strongest on this ship, the looks of respect and apprehension on the other passengers just clarifies this even more. Although he didn't really need to block the flow since the rain isn't pouring too hard, he made certain that the entrance and steps stay relatively dry.