The fumes of the wine made Chris dizzy. He was no longer a bookish child but a bold and bloodthirsty pirate, sailing the ocean and cutting down his foes with a cutlass. It was thrilling and horrible at the same time..
“What are you doing!” A harsh voice brought him out of his reverie. It belonged to a shriveled old man in a mouldering suit with sharp yellow teeth. “That was some of my best wine!”
“Who are you?” said Mandy, barely managing not to seem afraid.
“I am Montresor, Keeper of the Cellar. This is no ordinary wine—it is distilled from from memories. The Master of the House himself requested that bottle to serve the Goblin King for their negotiations. Without it we are lost! Unless…” An unpleasant smile crawled up his face. “You must bring me the memories of a legendary pirate and then take them to Father Time’s attic to be aged.”
“Or else I shall introduce you to the rats.” Chris saw something scuttling in the shadows of the room. It was far larger than a rat had any right to be.