Flight of the Shaman

"Eh, take that thing off lad, I don't like this, these fellers aren't just off to war, it's like that feller just said they're enjoying themselves."

  Davey lifted the helmet from his head, the images stopped. "What's it all mean Uncle Paddy?"

  Paddy was chewing away at his lip, turning the situation over in his mind. "We're watching something that took place long ago lad, that's for sure. These Spanish are attacking these Inkers." He chewed his lip some more. "It's like the answer's there on the tip of me tongue but I just can't seem to get hold of it. You're involved in this little lot in some way lad, don't ask me how I know it, I just do. I must 'ave some of me old girl in me after all."

  "Do you think it's got something to do with the ghost Uncle Paddy?"

  "I'm listenin' to what yer saying and reckon yer right lad, there's a connection somewhere. Maybe we're seeing what happened a long time ago to be able to 'elp her now."

  "I'm sure of it."

  Paddy nodded slowly in agreement then asked,

  "Look lad yer seeing some nasty goings on 'ere, you sure yer up to it?"

  Davey nodded.

  "Right then, first things first, get yerself back down them stairs an' make us a cuppa."

  Davey smiled and started to walk off.

  "And stick this thing on yer 'ead, we don't want you falling down them stairs."