A flash fiction piece I did. Please give your opinions.

The Ship Captain's Tale.

The scantily clad wench drops off another tankard of ale and the sound of the wood vessel striking the table has a calming influence on the grungy captain. His snarl turns to a smirk of somewhat resembling joy. With a quick jerk the captain throws back the container and quaffs down the beverage then wipes his lips clean with his sullied shirt sleeve. Sitting across the table is a much more fashionable gent in a tailored suit sipping at a glass of wine his manicured hand gently supports the decorative stemware.

 They have met according to agreement; it is the thirteenth day of the month thirteen years since their first and only other meeting. The captain's fate rests on the outcome of this seemingly mundane get-together. To those looking in, they are merely two men, oddly paired as it was, sharing drinks, but to the players it is far more significant than that. The captain's life, nay, his very soul rests in the balance and he fears as to which way the balance is tipping.

Over the next hour and half the elegant gentleman recounts callous tales of murder, rape and theft. He spins a yarn about a ship captain so vile and unwholesome, the very souls of his victims tremble even at the idea of haunting the captain's vessel. The disheveled captain continues to throw back ale after ale, occasionally peering around the room for some sign of hope, all the while he remains fixed on every word spoken by his companion.

When after the gentleman spoke his last syllable he reaches down and takes hold of a case at his feet.  Slipping the clasp open he pulls out a copy of Liber Urbani, or otherwise known as The Book of the Civilized Man and begins to now read quietly to the slightly inebriated seaman, though the sailor's aloof demeanor begins to fade along with the remainder of his sobriety.

The once mighty sea captain begins to sob and beg for pity but the gentleman has none and reminds the captain of the accord they made this day thirteen years prior. The captain did not heed the warning and in his mind now sees the scales come crashing down.  He jolts to a stance and heaves the table to the side as he throws himself to the feet of his besieger. Weeping uncontrollably he is told for his insurrections the watery depths of the underworld have not yet fantasized about what damnation will befall him.

The distinguished gentleman takes hold of the captain's shirt sleeve and drags him towards the door, the gentleman turns and remarks, "You were given do and timely notice that I was to return. I warned you my good man, but you decided not to heed those words. It is too late for apologize and tears, that time has long since come to pass. Do not cry Captain Jones, for you are about to get what you have always wanted."  

I like the scene and the story itself. A couple of things, I am a believer that the first words of any story or book should tell you what it is about or who the main character is. The captain should be the first thing we see (imagine), also don't use words like "grungy".  example:

Captain Jones, a surname he took from the orphanage he was raised in until the age of twelve, sat alone with the stentch of his just completed sea voayage until the wench wearing what looked like a scarf and nothing else brought him his ale.  

Interesting descriptions rather than words that may be considered slang......or not. Jut sayin'.  I do like the set up for the story. 

First I would like to say thank you for taking the time in reading this.  Originally I only had a 400 word cap on the entry, this one is touched up a bit more than the original. I agree with your insight, thank you. The only reason I left out his identity was I was trying to make it more of a relelation when the reader discovers that the captain is Davy Jones.

Thank you again.