Scar scoffed at the ship as it loomed out of the fog, doing its best to create a dread inducing and horrific entrance worthy of a ghostly ship, but all he could see was a free buffet delivering itself on a silver platter.
Sure, it was a giant ship of ghostly pirates. But that was it. Just one ship. At least, that's what he thought at first.
As the ghostly galleon drew closer to the 'shore line', also known as the edge of the cliff that Scar was standing on, more shapes manifested from the depths of the silent fog. Not just more galleons, each torn apart and definitely not seaworthy in their own special ways, but other types of ships.
There were a few rowboats, stuffed full of ghastly apparitions, yet none of them were rowing. Instead translucent chains, the same sickly green as the rest of the ghost ships and their crew, disappeared under the fog.
