(CLOSED) Official Athena's Fortune Contest Submission thread

  • The sun has reached its peak in the sky, I can feel the scorching heat through my hat. I decide to make my way home with my catch of the day when I spot a glimmer on a sandbank close-by. I raise my sails, and turn around until I can determine what the glimmer is. Glimmers are rare around these parts, as it is mostly fish and… well, the occasional big fish. I spot the glimmer again, this time I can make it out to be a bottle. Perhaps some rum? I get giddy at the prospect of something other than water. I lean overboard to see if there are any sandbanks nearby. I leave my sails slightly unfurled as I get close, making sure to furl them all the way before I disembark. I walk over to the bottle, pick it up and shake it lightly. No liquid. I am disappointed at the absence of rum; but when I uncork two rather two pieces of rolled up paper fall out. I thought that was just a thing of pirate stories and I start unfurling the pieces of paper: a map and a message.

    Perhaps it not as bad as I thought, this looks like treasure just like in the stories. I briefly inspect the pieces of paper; the letter has an ink stain on it and the map some strange riddles. Both pieces of paper have messages on front and back... oh boy, whomever left this certainly is a writer. ‘Couldn’t have made it a little shorter, eh’ I think to myself. I roll up the pieces of paper, and stuff them back in the bottle as I make my way back to my ship. I grab my compass, home is South East, I look at the horizon and see nothing but blue skies. I look at the bottle, I’m not the best at reading... I just… fish. I look at the pieces of paper sticking out the bottle and spot the words: Fortune. I look at the horizon again, calm waters and a few hours, I might as well give it a go. I unfurl the sails, take a seat close to the wheel, grab the bottle, my smoking pipe, and decide to start with the letter.

    To thee who heeds the call of the sea;
    Sailors and the people who brave the sea relish in rumours, whispers and strong stories. One of such stories you might have heard once upon a time is the story of the Sea of Thieves and the fortune of Athena it contains. If you are reading this, that means this bottle has somehow managed to get away from that fabled sea. I do not know if this will be legible, or if you can read this, but as a historian I have to try and document history in some way. The mythological Sea of Thieves that you might have believed to be a strong tale; it is real. If you do not know what it is, I will tell you all about it. As my father once left to me, and his grandfather left to him, I leave to you my journey on the Sea of Thieves and the old map my father left me so many moons ago. May you one day find yourself fortunate enough to sail the seas of adventure. May you one day find the Sea of Thieves. I leave you my legacy.

    My name is Enthonius Erinome the Third, but in messages my friends refer to me as Erinom3. A mockery of my three limbs. My father was Euronotus Erinome the Second, Brave Vanguard and Founder. My grandfather was Eurus Erinome, the first of his name. I come from a family of sailor historians, determined to find a sea of myth. My grandfather was one of the Insiders; a group of people that somehow garnered knowledge of the Sea of Thieves. My grandfather tried finding Athena’s Fortune and the Sea of Thieves as part of the Dutch Strike Force. But before he ever came close my grandfather was caught in a battle between two nations at war; sinking long before he could ever find and sail the Sea of Thieves. I never had a chance to meet my grandfather, but my father used to say that his knowledge lives on through us and that is why we must keep searching.

    Before he passed my grandfather told my father the tale of the Sea of Thieves and, of the fabled Athena’s Fortune. Tales that he had learnt whilst sailing the seas far and wide. My father would spend his life pursuing those stories; joining the Brave Vanguard to sail around the world looking for clues. When my father would come home from his adventures, he would often tell me stories of the fabled Sea of Thieves. We would do many different things together during his time at home before he would set sail again. During his time at home I would sail with my father, I would navigate reefs and rivers. I learnt the constellations in the sky, how to set-up camp, make campfires, how to hunt. He taught me how to swim, to read and write, how to fight with a sword, how to load and fire a gun, how to tie knots, how to mend a ship. He also taught me how to read maps. But out of all the great things I learnt and did with my father my favourite were the riddles he made for me growing up.

    Then on the eve of my 17th birthday, he came and showed me a map. A map of the Sea of Thieves. He said he had found it and had to leave right away. He said goodbye that night, so many moons ago, and he would never return. He left me a single riddle that day, a riddle unlike any other. One I had to figure out from all the different stories, riddles and clues he told me over the years. It took me many years traversing the seas on my trusty sloop pursuing clues before I was able to piece it together. Finally, after searching far and wide, it led me to three things he had hidden away: the map he showed me when he left; a journal with the fable of Athena's Fortune on the first page; and a necklace that held a golden coin with a skull on one side and a compass face on the other. I did not know how he came to possess these things, and so I shared them with no one.

    It took me many years before I pieced together what those things meant. Time which I used to hone my skills in sailing, navigation, duelling, reading and writing. I braved many dangers on my journeys, and learnt to abide the unspoken Pirate Code. My skills as a pirate are far from perfect, as I have no sense of direction, and one can only guess how I earnt myself the nickname “Branch Fingers” But, I have somehow always found my way home. I survived ship battles, sword-fights and the occasional brawl after the consumption of too much grog. During my time traversing the seas looking for clues, I joined the legendary Pirate Union: Fortune. A group of pirates from different cultures and places. A union that became legend far before their arrival on the Sea of Thieves, if you ask me.

    It was on a stormy March day, a fabled day, that my friends from Fortune, friends from the for rums, and my trusty companion Kaptuhn Redhead set sail to the ever-changing Sea of Thieves. Over the years we pieced together the pieces we heard in rumours and stories. We learnt of a way to get to the Sea of Thieves. But getting there was easier said than done. The journey to the Sea of Thieves was certainly not easy and many lives were lost. But after three long days and three long nights we eventually broke through the mystic shroud. We had made it, I had made it, finally we were on the fabled Sea of Thieves that we had sought after for so long.

    The pirates who had made this journey with me dispersed to find their own answers on this mystical ever-changing sea. I knew we would see one another again on these foreign, yet familiar, seas. I too set out to find answers on my own. My first heading was Sanctuary Outpost. My father told me stories of the tavern patron, Clumsy George, who had made his way to the Sea of Thieves with only a trusty broom. I thought a tavern belonging to such a legend would be a good place to start. Clumsy or not, George had found his way to the Sea of Thieves and established a successful tavern. He was also a member of a famous old group of pirates; the Old Salts.

    I sat down that day at the George & Kraken, with a tankard in my hand putting together the pieces and clues my father had told me over the years. I probably looked at the three things he left me a thousand times before I finally decided to leave the outpost. I stepped outside and decided to explore the sea I had only experienced in my dreams and seen on my father’s map. I decided to split my focus; I would look for my father and try to build reputation with the trading companies spoken of in the fable of Athena’s Fortune.

    It would take much longer than anticipated, and I witnessed many sunrises and sunsets before I was able to find some answers. My skills as a sailor, navigator, pirate and adventurer were put to the test on many different occasions as I slowly rose through the ranks of the trading companies.

    The fate of my father was what I eventually decided would be worth pursuing the most. Pursuing this interest, I stopped working for the trading companies. I managed to scavenge, sneak and steal to get by while I sailed the seas looking for answers. If my father was still alive, I’m sure we would be able to find Athena’s Fortune together. I spent many hours traversing the seas and roaming the islands in search of him. During my time exploring I discovered various hidden caves on islands. The map my father left me had a sentence written on it “Star’s Souls hidden in Darkness”, a sentence that often came to mind in these dark places I explored. One day whilst exploring such a dark cave, I stumbled upon a clue. A clue that would propel me to eventually piece together the clues on the map he left me, finding the stars lost souls spoken of on the map.

    But finding these unfortunate souls brought me no closer to my father. Until one day, by pure coincidence, I stumbled upon a shipwreck. The name of the ship familiar, but not where I expected to find it as the ship was no longer where the clues led me. Perhaps the ocean currents or mysterious beasts moved it; the Sea of Thieves works in mysterious ways. Unfortunately, it was on this ship that I found a journal held by a skeletal hand, my father’s name carved into it, his fate clear. If I wouldn’t have been afraid of potential sharks or the fact I was underwater; I would have shed a tear.

    The Sea of Thieves is not for the weak of heart or mind. The storms alone can make you shiver to your spine as lightning strikes tear your ship to pieces; but that is but a taste. There is the Kraken, the relentless undead horde, sightings of Megalodon and rumours of the undead horde taking to the seas. Not only that even if you find riches, they can curse you to an eternal drunk state, or a fill your ship with tears of sorrow. That, and the ever-looming threat of hostile pirates, make the Sea of Thieves a place for anyone but the weak; only the law of the jungle applies to this lawless sea.

    And what for, you may ask? I found my father dead, lost upon the wreckage of his ship. Many friends have passed during our journey to the Sea of Thieves, and many more would pass during my adventures upon its seas. And, yet, despite my many days and nights roaming the seas, I have come no closer to finding the fabled Athena’s Fortune. Upon finding myself drinking grog in my favourite tavern I spotted a mysterious stranger standing by the backdoor. After exchanging no more than a few words I suspected that this man knew something as mentioning the name Athena’s Fortune seemed to make his eyes glimmer. But before he would say anything else, he told me that I needed to gain respectable reputation with the three trading companies. Begrudgingly, I decided to continue working for the trading companies I had forsaken so long ago. It was my only clue at that point.

    After sailing the Sea of Thieves solo for longer than I can remember whilst pursing the fate of my father; I decide to try and make contact with some of my friends and compatriots. Perhaps strength in numbers and combining our efforts in working for the trading companies would pay off. I manage to establish contact with my oldest friend & shipmate; Kaptuhn Redhead. Lady luck continued her blessings as I also manage to contact the Quartermasters of Fortune: the Dr of boom DrBullhammer; the merchant Thor von Blitz; the swashbuckling savage SirioNDB who leads Fortune; the beautiful bearded lady Rhami; the mystic chef Conal Cuan; Koala the self-proclaimed Duke of Ancient Spire; and last, but certainly not least, the man of the upside-down who we simply call Chaos.

    It is through the combined effort of my friends and I that the wind started blowing in our favour. I slowly made my way through the ranks of the three trading companies with their help. I am not there yet, but I will find Athena’s Fortune in my father’s stead. Upon waking up groggily in a tavern after a long adventure working for the trading companies; I spot a new arrival. Duke, from the Bilge Rat Adventurers. The Bilge Rats don’t agree with the monopoly of the trading companies. And they established their business on the Sea of Thieves offering dubloons upon completion of their adventures. Using these dubloons you can buy letters of recommendation to improve your standing with the trading companies. Or trade them in for gold, or even time-limited equipment. But of course, there’s a catch, the dubloons can’t be used with anyone but the Bilge Rats.

    If anything is to be learnt on the Sea of Thieves, it is that everyone soul upon it has their own agenda and they all aim to improve their own standing. However, I trust the Trading Companies even less than I trust the Bilge Rats. I decided to shift my focus yet again and worked hard to complete these various ‘Bilge Rat Adventures’. Each adventure they ask us to undertake is different from the one before. Some adventures are of questionable intent and purpose, but working for the Bilge Rats I learn more about these seas than the trading companies ever taught or showed me. I do not understand how the Bilge Rats can increase our standing with the trading companies, it is probably some sort of under the table deal we aren’t told of. But I work tirelessly to buy these letters and improve my standing with the trading companies through this alternative method as I never wanted to work for these trading companies again.

    a big smudge covers most of what is written next, but I can make out the words “Athena’s Fortune”

    It has taken me many years before I thought I could finally write down these words; but I have done it. I have located Athena’s Fortune, where I found the Pirate Lord who swore me to a vow of secrecy. A vow I have attempted to break many times being the historian I am. But, every time I have attempted to write down the location of Athena’s Fortune, an incident befalls me and whatever was written does not survive. You can see the proof of that above this paragraph. When I try to speak of the location, my throat seems to grow barnacles and I am unable to utter a single word. Finding Athena’s Fortune was a blessing, but I am not able to tell you why or write down where it is.
    Now you know the true reason I wrote this, admittedly lengthy, letter. To tell you Athena’s Fortune is real. To serve as a message, a story, a historic overview of what goes on in the Sea of Thieves. Something any sailor, adventurer, fisher or soul that wanders and braves the seas could find. As a historian I believe I have fulfilled my duty in writing this, hopefully, comprehensible message.

    If you have ever thought you were destined for more, the Sea of Thieves calls to all who yearn for adventure, it calls to those who seek fortune. And perhaps it now calls to you like it called to my father, and my grandfather before him. May you find these seas and find fortune upon it like I have for all these years.

    Abiding the Pirate Code to the best of my abilities, I see this message as my final tribute to Article 6 of the Code: Respect New Pirates and their Voyage Ahead, may the old legends help to forge new ones.

    My legend may very well fade into history, but you can still write your own legend upon these seas.

    Just like my grandfather gave to my father, and my father gave to me, I leave to you my father’s map and the story of Athena's Fortune.

    May you be of ever good Fortune.
    Erinome Enthonius the Third, of the order of the Branch

    I roll up the piece of paper as the sun almost sets on the horizon. I stand up and can see some lights in the distance; home. I close my eyes for a second, because I simply can’t believe it. The Sea of Thieves…real? That’s just a story, like the Kraken, told by old sailors who had too much grog. But it has to be, right? Why would this “Erinom3” write this entire letter for naught, to fool someone? He calls himself a historian, and wrote in a way even I could understand. The Pirate Code he speaks of is something I have never heard of, but I certainly have heard whispers in the dark of Athena’s Fortune and rumours of the glories that await those who brave the Sea of Thieves to find it. I take a look at the other piece of paper, a map. A short rhyme is written on the back of the map.

    Rare treasures and riches vast, from Pirate legends in the past
    Shared voyages with faithful crew, called to sail the ocean blue
    In the Sea of Thieves, the rumours fare, a fortune lies buried there
    Hidden route under fearsome sky, a fortune calls to those that try
    The Gold Hoarders seek beneath the sands, the keys to chests within their hands
    The Order of Souls are full of mystery, they came to seek the skulls of history
    The Merchant Alliance are seeking coin, a profit made by those that join
    Athena's Fortune now calls to ye, to become legend upon the sea

    My heart beats faster in my chest, and part of the map seems to light up as I say the words “Athena’s Fortune” out loud. My eyes grow wide in amazement, I try saying the words aloud once more but nothing happens. I look at the two pieces of paper, before I stuff them back in the bottle. My mind can only think of one thing: I must find this place, I must find this Fortune. The distant lights of home flicker, but I will not return home. Tonight, my adventure and my search begins.


    Words: 3370
    #AthenasFortuneContest
    Based on: https://www.seaofthieves.com/forum/topic/76545/a-tale-told-through-images-short-stories-my-journey-on-the-sea-of-thieves

  • @khaleesibot I think I posted the story in the wrong spot before. 2,872 words. Some of the characters were based on the real people I play with so they can be changed.

    Dueling Captains

    The sea was angry that day my friends. The waves crashed against the side of the boat like a Bilge Rat after too many grogs. You could barely see ahead of the bow and Fluff couldn’t make out the horizon from the crow’s nest had he fallen right on it. A storm brewed to the west, grumbling like your belly after a fortnight at sea. We only had the sounds of the sea to keep us company when ole Bouncer wasn’t striking a tune to raise the crew’s spirits. The Captain made herself scarce most of the way, stepping out from her cabin to bark a few orders and take her charting measurements of the stars.

    We had been sailing blind, using the blackness of night to obscure ourselves from spying eyes as we made our way to Shark Fin Camp. Word around the islands was that the legendary treasure locked below the decaying fortress could be taken, but any that dared to venture forth would face the legendary crew Captained by Shady Jones, one of the fiercest to ever sail the eastern shores. He was as feared as any pirate could be, rumoured to be kin to Davey Jones himself. They had amassed one of the largest fortunes on the Sea of Thieves, sailing from Shark Fin Camp to satiate his thirst for wealth.

    Like any legend, this Captain and his band of thieves and miscreants disappeared. Not a boat, not a blunderbuss, not even a damn boot remained. The camp was deserted when the first ship dared venture to it. What they found was a husk… the remnants of power and the aura of death. Many could see a treasure through the floor boards of the main fort, but not one pirate, cannon or gun powder keg could damage free the fabled loot from its hole. The only way in was through a locked door, marked by a glowing skull. Eventually, everyone tired of trying. The treasure was considered impossible to procure… at least until one fateful night.

    I remember the panicked voices. Many of us do. The yelling, the gun fire, the clash of steel as crew upon crew rushed and fought their way to investigate the glowing skull clouds in the distance. Word was that every man, woman and pirate could see those clouds from any island on the Sea of Thieves, whether they made camp at Shark Bait Cove or were docked at Galleon’s Grave. The Captain was as tough as they came, but she was cut from the cloth of patience, willing to let other crews go first despite Bouncer’s protests and Fluff’s threat of mutiny. I tried talking sense to her to no avail. Not one pirate was pleased with her decision until the first few ships made it back to port.

    I’d never seen anything like it friends. Ships battered and splintered. It was a wonder they could stay afloat. Crews dwindled to nothing and even fewer willing to speak of the horrors they saw firsthand. It was hard to tell what was and wasn’t real. Some claimed to be waylaid by a kraken! They swore on their lives the dreaded beast rose from the waters to crush their ships on the way to Shark Fin. Others scoffed at their stories. But all of them agreed on one truth: Shark Fin Camp was brimming with the undead. And the camp has no time or willingness for mercy. Many fine pirates died that day. Some were good friends of mine. And the world saw the loss of ships like the Howling Beast and Siren’s Gale. As quick as that cloud came, it was gone by the second night. The only evidence being the dead pirates, tattered sails and splintered hulls scattered around Shark Fin Camp for miles.

    So for a few weeks, the Captain sailed around the islands collecting gun powder kegs. We sailed at night and hid during the day. One man was thrown overboard when the Captain found him smoking his pipe near an uncorked keg. Not a pirate worth their salt questioned the Captain’s actions, until that fateful day she set course toward the glowing cloud and Shark Fin Camp. The Captain was a stout woman at barely two kegs tall and thick, but far fiercer and nimbler than her frame suggested. She had a scarred slit on her lip and wore an eye patch. Only Fluff knew how she earned those scars and neither of them was sharing. She wore a modest coat, home to a few scattered patches showing their age and she favors a black and white striped bandana over a traditional cap. One of the finest I’ve ever sailed with and I doubt there’s anyone better at the helm. She had full support of the crew… always did, but even the most loyal raised an eyebrow at our course, present company included.

    Cannonballs rained down on us as we approached the camp and the Captain managed to navigate the volleys without sustaining much damage. The crew channeled cannon fire on one of the two main towers guarding the beach. The Captain ensured the boat was just obscured enough to avoid the lone tower on the opposite side. Fluff leapt over the side as nimble and graceful as his namesake and made his way to the tower under siege. We halted our assault as Fluff turned the tower’s cannons against the others as the Captain anchored the boat near the center of the two. The debris smattered about the shoreline was a fine reminder of those that weren’t so skilled or lucky. The camp seemed to whisper and the water seemed to groan as if the sea itself strained under what would happen next.

    The Captain and Bouncer organized the crew in pairs, each would carry a gunpowder keg and two pistols. Their goal was to stay clear of the skeletons and instead fire on the kegs as skeletons approached, obliterating them. If a pirate were to fall, then another was expected to push forward until the main fort was breached. Once the keg was delivered and fired on, the pair was to return to the ship for another. The crew executed the orders despite their doubts and I can tell you my friends, the strategy was effective. Explosion after explosion shook the island like a drunken cook banging on his pots. I saw with my own eyes the undead. There were so many of them. Skeletons. Some were adorned in gold, melted and poured over carelessly years ago. Others had various fauna sprouting from their gutless insides. I’d have laughed at one with a flower for an eye patch if it weren’t trying to kill me. The Captain jumped ashore as we neared the fort. Our snipers kept on guard for any creature stupid enough to make way for the cannons. Instead, they opted to throw the fort gate open and attack as a swarm. The blasts and explosions became more frequent, rocking the boat in place and soon, many had to take up arms in the melee.

    But then Captain Shady Jones emerged, his glowing lifeless eyes burning with rage. His tattered captain’s cap clung impossibly to his head. He was fully adorned in clothing with only a faint glow visible where his heart would have been. Even had his hook hand to boot! Had you glimpsed the cursed creature from behind you’d believe him to be alive and well. His gaze landed on our Captain as both crews stopped their assaults. Captain Jones let out a ghastly wail before lunging at the Captain. It was a clumsy dance of steel between the two. No elegance in their strikes or parries. The Captain scored a few hits on Jones to no avail and in return he split her lip, extending it down her chin. She was beginning to tire and Captain Jones never let up until a gunshot rung through the air. Jones stopped cold as his hat sprung from his shattering skull. The Captain reached in to Jones’ chest and pulled a glowing disc out. She turned to one of the cannon towers and nodded as Fluff capped his rifle. Captain Jones let out one meeker wail and the whole lot of the undead fell to the ground and faded into dust. The cloud above the camp dissolved and the world felt just a bit brighter under the full sun.

    The entire crew stood behind the Captain as she approached the vault door and placed the glowing disc in the lock. The island rumbled but the doors gave way to a sight of incredible treasure. We were met with gold overflowed from chests, crates of fine sugar and exotic spice strewn about, the most fascinating trinkets I had ever laid eyes on and the cursed skulls of other fallen captains. We created a chain to move the loot back to the boat as quickly as possible. But, mid way through our looting, the panicked clanging of the ship’s bell rung through the air. A galleon approached and the Captain instructed us to leave the rest and prep the ship. The galleon was far enough away coming in from our port quarter and we managed to get underway just before they reached cannon range.

    They chased us relentlessly. We were all hands on deck. It wasn’t long before other ships joined them in pursuit. As many as seven ships followed. The Captain had been circling the islands of Black Water Enclave to Blind Man’s Lagoon. Then, we heard the sea groan once more. The Captain had us throw the remaining powder kegs off the stern. When the first ship collided to a welcome explosion of wood and bodies, the crew cheered. We lowered the sails just long enough for the first three ships to get within cannon range when the Captain took the vault key and threw it into the water, barking for us to drop sails and turn east for full wind. We didn’t understand her strategy until we heard the groan once more. The water near the key bubbled and as the first few of our pursuers arrived, massive tentacles emerged from the water.

    I tell you this now in earnest truth, for I too laughed at the stories. The kraken is real my friends. I wouldn’t have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes. The tentacles reached as high as the top of a ship’s mast, the deepest purples like the bruises after a bad brawl. The approaching crews immediately fired on the creature. I saw that kraken crush ship hulls like a crumpled parchment and the crew watched and heard in muted horror the screams as ships fell to the power of the kraken’s blows. Two ships managed to avert annihilation, but were slowed enough for us to escape with our riches. We abandoned our vessel and acquired another and there wasn’t a pirate on that boat who didn’t find their share of the wealth satisfying. We are the first and only crew to loot the riches of Shark Fi…

    “Ye don’t expect these people to believe that dreck do ye Salty?” A voice interrupted.

    The crowd parted to let a black bearded man with a sword in his hand and a compliment of crew in, each with their hands firmly on their holstered pistols.

    “I’ve known ye a long time Salty and I don’t believe fer a minute that ye or any crew that’a take you in would be capable of looting Shark Fin Camp. And do ye really think these people believe that ye survived a fairy tale let alone summoned one? Why not have mermaids rescue overboard ship mates while ye’re at it? Or perhaps tell them how ye served on the Ferry of the Damned too? Ye’re a small man by any standard Salty. Ye have no business with a tale as tall as ye’re telling.” The black bearded man laughed.

    “Captain Williamson,” Salty smiled. “The Captain hoped you would come and find me.”

    “Did she now?” Williamson chuckled. “Yet here I am and she’s nowhere to be found. Fer all of ye’re talk about her, there’s one thing I know fer certain, she’s no better than those sorry excuses fer chickens being peddled at the market.”

    “And why am I graced with your presence?” Salty spat.

    “As unbelievable as ye’re story is, I needed to know fer meself. Ye’re a rat Salty, and a vain one at that. Ye’re story might smell worse than Tess’ outhouse, but ye wouldn’t be boasting from outpost to outpost if ye didn’t score some kind of treasure.”

    “And you’re here to free me of my gold laden burden are you?” Salty surmised.

    “Aye. Me coffers could use some new coin and who better fer Salty’s riches to go to than the Captain and crew of the Shining Glory? The fastest ship on the Sea of Thieves!” Williamson boasted, arms extended, speaking more to the crowd than to Salty.

    “You can have my riches,” Salty replied as he slowly reached into his vest. Williamson’s crew tightened their grips on the pistols and even Williamson himself raised an eyebrow. Salty pulled out a folded parchment and reached out as an offering. “This map will mark where I’ve hidden my share of the riches. I’m too old to spend it anyway.”

    Williamson snatched the parchment out of Salty’s hand. His brow wrinkled as his face scrunched up in confusion. He paused to consider things and raised two fingers. His crew pulled out their pistols as the rest of the crow scattered.

    “Ye’ve been a sly rat Salty, but ye’r tricks won’t work on me this day. Why are ye on this island alone? Where’s the rest of ye’re crew?”
    “I’m too old to continue on the seas. The Captain and I agreed I’d serve her better telling my stories than I would directly on the Dragon’s Breath,” Salty replied.

    “Dragon’s Breath?” Williamson repeated. “Captain Backson would never part with his ship.”

    “Unless he had no choice.” Salty smiled. “Maybe the Captain made him a good offer for the ship. Maybe the Captain knows about the Forsaken Shores.”

    Williamson lurched back, visibly surprised. “It doesn’t matter. The Forsaken Shores are a myth.”

    “The Captain disagrees.” Salty replied.

    “Well ye’re ‘captain’ will never find ‘em.” Williamson shot back.

    “Unless she has your map, the one in your pillowcase”.

    Williamson’s eyes widened and he spun around to face his ship docked at the pier. As he did, two explosions sounded across the island. He watched his boat lurch side to side as fresh holes dotted the starboard side of his vessel. The Dragon’s Breath came into view from behind the rock croppings on the outskirts of the outpost as he watched cannon ball after cannon ball rain down on his pride. The masts splintered and it was clear this ship would be lost. He turned to cut Salty down but the sly pirate had already fled, his hood crumpled where he had once stood. Williamson screamed as he and the rest of his crew rushed to the pier hoping the impossible, that their vessel could be salvaged.

    Salty quickly made his way to the east shore in the ensuing chaos where Bouncer and a row boat awaited. The two rowed directly away from the shore with haste, stopping when they were clear anything that could ground the Dragon’s Breath. Sure enough, the ship rounded the island sailing alongside slow enough for Bouncer and Salty to climb aboard and hit the open seas as the Shining Glory sunk in a blaze of glory.

    “He won’t soon forget that nor will he ever forgive,” Salty remarked as the Captain approached him.

    “What can he do? Now we have the fastest ship on the Sea of Thieves and a map to the Forsaken Shores”, the Captain shrugged, her grin impossibly wide.

    “How did you know he would come?” Salty inquired.

    “Captain Williamson is shrewd, but his greed is boundless. He can’t resist an easy spoil. I’ll explain tonight when we feast.” She turned to the rest of the crew. “We hold course east, but tap the kegs because we drink tonight!”

    The crew hooted and hollered in agreement. Some broke into song, others in dance. Regardless of pirate, the mood was bright.


    Captain Williamson slumped on a rock as he stared at the black waters of the pier his prized ship once graced. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. He had underestimated this captain of Salty’s. It was a mistake he would never repeat. He knew where the Dragon’s Breath was heading. The Forsaken Shores. He stood up and turned to his crew who had been standing diligently behind him. They stood ready, and his chest swelled with pride at their discipline and patience. He pulled a cloth from a hidden coat pocket, carefully unfolding it to reveal a ragged and faded map.

    “Let’s find us a ship,” he bellowed, his confidence returning. “We will have vengeance on the crew and captain that would dare challenge us. Be ready to leave in the morning fer we set sail… to the Forsaken Shores!”

  • Based on true events from Cursed Sails

    The Great Battle for The Ancient Isles

    A long day of sailing across the ancient isles is what lead to the Crew of The Flying Shark spending the night passed out in the tavern at the famous Ancient Spire Outpost. The crew, who acquired their name through the discovery of a shark floating up the heavens upon being killed at Kraken’s Fall. Those who they told called them mad, claiming that it is a side effect to the excessive amount of grog consumed by the sailors. Months of warning people of the sighting had worn the crew down, they had become bitter and no longer trusted anybody. They took to robbing any ship in sight. Even taking to creating the illusion of safety for other crews, with the arrival of another ship at the very same outpost that they now lay passed out. A ship had parked at the outpost to off load their skulls to the ancient order. With no other ship in sight, due to the unfortunate sinking of the ship of the Crew of The Flying Shark, the pirates stepped off their ship. It was then the Hunter, called Silas, created these pirates who seemed new to this life, inviting them for a friendly drink in the tavern. The two travellers kindly accepted the offer stating that they could do with the company. It was then that the two of pirates from the hunter’s thieving crew hatched a plan to sneak onto the vacant ship and search for loot to steal and sell. As spontaneous and dangerous as the plan seemed, the two crewmates of the Hunter, a fierce merchant, an odd combination, whose name was Thomas and a man named Christopher with an obsession with gold, were not fazed by the idea of things going badly. No. These were two pirates with countless of successful robberies under their very expensive belts.
    Time went by and the two pirates believed it to be safe to climb onboard, when they did they discovered many skulls ready to be sold to the lady representing the mystic order in a nearby tent stationed at the outpost. It appeared that the Hunter, Silas, had the same idea as the others, distracting the oblivious pirates for as long as he possibly could, his mind filled with pictures of gold. As always, the crew was successful in their mission. Many hours later the owners of the now empty ship discovered the absence of their loot. A gun fight erupted at the outpost, lasting only minutes before the two pirates were bested by the Hunter, Merchant and Hoarder of Gold and were forced to pay a visit to the Ferryman.
    But those days were behind the crew now. Or so it seemed. Because on that night that the pirates lay passed out on the floor of a tavern, the skeletons arrived.
    The crew awoke to the distressed calls of the shop owners. They walked outside to see all the local shops doors had been boarded up rather hastily. Those who normally ran these shops were crouched, shaking in feat around a wooden post that the crew had never seen before. Had it always been there? Upon getting closer the pirates could hear the familiar sound of a skeleton. Colin, the clothing shop owner pointed to the top of the wooden post, leading to the crew discovering the skeleton tied up at the top. At first there was nothing alarming about this sight. A skeleton had been captured it seemed, what was so scary about that? Then the young hunter Silas noticed a note had been stuck into the post with an old dagger. Thomas ripped the note away and read through it. “It says ‘ear that these skeleton boys plan to take the ancient isles. Weirdly giving us a time and place to be to defend it or it shall forever be theirs…” looking around he could tell that none of the locals had any hope in defending their land. “Well, it would seem lads that this is a fine adventure for the ole crew ay?” he asked his fellow crewmates. “Sure, why not? The fine Unicorn Tavern has always been a welcoming place. I would never let these skeletons take anything that does not belong to them or indeed have anything that does belong to them. It falls on the three of us to defend the seas but we are in need of a new ship of course, Silas my friend, why don’t you go speak to the shipwright, see what deal you can get us” was Christopher’s reply. “My pleasure cap’n you know I’m good for it” Silas told him. “I really wish you wouldn’t call him that!” Thomas called to Silas as he left to go to the docks. A smile form on Thomas’s face “well then. Looks like we got sommat to do now ay? Let’s go have some fun then” Thomas said as he raised his arms and gestured Christopher towards the docks where their new ship would soon await them. “Get yer self together, this is no laughing matter” Christopher told him with a very serious tone, one of a natural captain. Thomas laughed “well my friend who knows, perhaps we’ll see our old megalodon friend”.

    2
    The seas were rough that day. The crew knew this would be no easy battle. They were approaching the location out at sea that was described in the note yet there was no sign of any sort of battle or challenge anywhere. “ARE YOU SURE THIS IS THE RIGHT PLACE CAPTAIN?” Silas screamed from his preferred position at the front of the ship back to Christopher at the wheel. It was the merchant who was first to respond from his position up in the crow’s nest barely able to hear over the sound of the waves. “WELL IT BETTER BE I AM QUITE LOOKING FORWARD TO A BIT OF A TUSSLE WITH SOME SKELETONS ONCE AGAIN! THIS ONE CERTAINTLY SOUNDS TO BE ON A BIGGER SCALE TOO MY FINE FELLOW SAILORS” came the response with his usual touch of emotive and comedic language, odd as it may be for a pirate. “DO YOU TWO NOT TRUST MY JUDGEMENT?” Christopher yelled above the waves.
    As the ship entered the area of the promised battle, nothing seemed to be happening. There was no sight of any skeletons or skeleton ships anywhere. Thomas climbed down the ladder from the crow’s nest to join his crewmates who were now both standing by the wheel. “Have we been played as fools then?” Silas asked. Neither of the others responded, both concerned about the situation.
    It was at that moment, the moment the crew were vulnerable and confused, that a ship belonging to the skeletons, sporting the skull of what seemed to be a kraken at the front of their ship as a figurehead erupted out of the water to the right-hand side of the crew. “WELL HOW DID THEY DO THAT THEN?” Silas screamed in horror and confusion. “THEY’RE GETTING ON THE CANNONS! BRACE!” Thomas yelled. The skeleton ship began to fire many shots into the side of the crew’s brigantine, quickly emptying them of their resources used to repair such holes as Silas stayed down in the lower deck patching holes up constantly, keeping the ship alive and kicking. “I BELIEVE IT MAY BE BEST IF I CLIMB ABOARD THEIR SHIP! DANCE WITH ‘EM FOR A BIT WHILE YOU FIRE THOSE CANNONS RIGHT INTO ‘EM! I COULD DO WITH THE FUN AFTER ALL!” Thomas screamed back to Christopher who was holding his position at the wheel. “ARE YOU MAD?” came Christopher’s reply. But it was too late to reason with the merchant, his mind was already made up. He got close to his fellow pirate and insisted that he get their ship in close enough for him to jump over. “IF WE DO THIS. DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU OF THE DANGERS AY?” Christopher told him, still screaming over the sounds of the crashing waves and sounds of cannon fire hitting the water all around them. He swung the ship around, getting close enough for a jump over to the skeleton galleon. As they approached the right distance, Thomas looked back at his fellow pirate and gave him a nod with a face of confidence and uncertainty mixed into one. Christopher gave a nod in return and with that the fierce merchant leapt from his ship onto the skeleton ship, unaware of what dangers lay ahead for him onboard.
    What felt like hours passed as Thomas fought off the skeletons trying to repair the old galleon as his crew mates created many holes in the side of it with the cannons of their brigantine. After all this fighting, the crew had finally seemed to sink the skeleton’s ship. “IT’S FILLING UP FAST! THIS THING IS ABOUT TO SINK!” Thomas screamed to the others from the galleon. Christopher and Silas cheered, they had successfully defended the Ancient Isles from the evil skeletons. Or so they had thought. “WE’RE COMING IN CLOSE GET READY TO JUMP OVER!” Christopher told Thomas, the excitement in his voice obvious. He swung the brigantine in close enough for Thomas to jump on board from the sinking ship. “Well lads, a successful battle it would seem. Nobody better for the job than us ay?” Thomas said. “Was not even that difficult. Skeletons don’t know they’re limits” Silas told the others.
    Just when the crew’s guard was down and they were celebrating the victory over the skeleton ships, two more skeleton ships burst out of the water, one on either side of the brigantine. “WELL I THOUGHT IT WAS A LITTLE TOO EASY” Thomas yelled, almost laughing. Silas pointed out in front of them to left “WELL IT’S NOT JUST THEM WE HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT!” he screamed whilst pointing at another ship. Not a skeleton ship but the brigantine of another pirate crew. “WELL WHO KNOWS? MAYBE THEY’RE FRIENDLY! LET’S GET CLOSE TO THEM AND THEN SILAS YOU GO NEGOTIATE AN ALLIENCE WITH THEM WHILE WE DEAL WITH THESE SKELETONS!” Christopher shouted as the waves crashed against the side of their ship. As he finished giving his plan, cannonballs hit the left side of their ship. Without hesitation Thomas and Silas both went to repair and bucket out any water that had leaked into the boat. As the famed gold hoarding captain approached the other brigantine, it became obvious that the pirates on board had the same idea of forming an alliance to take down the skeleton threat, one of the pirates on board has raised a flag on top of the crow’s nest signalling the desire to create the alliance. But of course, the Crew of The Flying Shark already knew that they would betray these other pirates as soon as the skeletons were defeated, after all they could not have their tale of greatness feature another crew.
    “AHOY” one of the pirates from the new crew yelled, stood on the top deck of the brigantine waving. Their boats were close enough to be able to tell the smiling expression on the pirate’s face and had enough distance between them and the skeleton ships now that they had enough time to scan for these expressions. “HOW GOES IT?” Thomas asked. Trying to sound friendly and welcoming even under the circumstances they were in. All part of his plan to gain a trust that he can later break. One of the pirates jumped aboard the crew of the Floating Shark’s ship. The three pirates were anxious about this move. Their pistols and cutlasses at the ready in case of any attack. These three pirates had not seen much defeat in combat. “Need any ‘elp takin’ down these skeletons ‘en? I saw the note at the outpost. Thought we’d come protect the waters. Didn’t expect another crew ay” the pirate said. “Well sure, we’ll welcome your assistance. Get back on your ship at take it over to them old galleons and we’ll send them back to the bottom of the ocean” Christopher told him. Clearly this pirate was unaware that these ships had erupted out of the sea, being visibly uncomfortable with the use of ‘send them back to the bottom’. “That’s a grand idea boy” Thomas said to Christopher in a cheery tone while motioning the intruding pirate back to his ship. The pirate gave them a nod them climbed back onto his own boat. The other crew raised their anchor and set off towards the battle. “Silas, you lower our sails. Let’s go kill these skeletons. If there is any loot well then it is all ours. We can’t let these people take our fame and fortune”. Christopher said. He began turning the ship to face the battle. The sails were lowered and their boat began picking up great speed.
    As they sailed back into battle Thomas noticed a disturbance in the water. He raised his head to tell the others about it. He knew exactly what this meant. Before he had the chance, the legendary beast, the Megalodon, arose from the water right next to the brigantine to the right. It let out a loud almost growling sound that was very familiar to these pirates. “WELL ‘ELLO THERE OLD FRIEND! I WAS WONDERING WHEN YOU’D SHOW UP BOY” Thomas shouted at the Megalodon. “WELL THIS JUST GOT A WHOLE LOT MORE DANGEROUS!” Silas screamed. “NO NO MY FRIEND. IT JUST GOT A WHOLE LOT MORE EXCITING!” Thomas replied while laughing. “SHUT UP!” Christopher shouted at him.
    Soon enough the crew re-joined the battle with the Megalodon at their side. The other brigantine had not long arrived but were already talking quite the hammering from the two skeleton ships. They were also doing a decent job and giving the skeletons a few holes of their own. “WE BROUGHT A FRIEND!” Thomas screamed into his speaking trumpet towards the other crew. “Silas join me on the cannons. Let’s get these guys” Thomas said. The two pirates, the merchant and the hunter, put everything they had into firing as many cannonballs into the side of the one skeleton ship as the could while the other brigantine was taking care of the other ship. The Floating Shark crew had taken on a few holes as a consequence of engaging with the massive old wooden ship. The ship was taking on water. Thomas was too busy fighting back at the skeletons that he did not notice how much water the boat had. They were side on with the enemy ship, almost touching. “I’M GOING OVER THERE ‘EN. I’LL STOP ‘EM FROM REPAIRING WHILE YOU FIRE YEAH?” Thomas yelled at Silas. Before he could be warned of the situation that the boat was in he was gone and climbing the ladder of the skeleton ship. Luckily Silas ran straight to the problem and began bailing out water. “OI! THERE’S TOO MANY HOLES DOWN ‘ERE. WATERS COMING IN TOO FAST YOU GOTTA COME AND PATCH THEM UP!” Silas screamed at Christopher. Christopher set the wheel of the ship so that the brigantine would going around in a circle before he ran to the aid of his crewmate, confident that they would not sail away from the fight.
    Over on the skeleton’s ship a fight was taking place. Thomas had fought his way to the bottom deck of the galleon. He had taken many hits from skeletons and was not sure how much more he could handle. He had spotted a hole in the wall of the ships brig. A perfect spot to fight off the skeletons so that the water could pour in. At any chance he got Thomas would eat some of the bananas he carried on him to keep his energy up. This had gone on for a few minutes that felt like hours. The lower deck was full of water. But he was not sure if the ship was close to sinking but knew that he had to get out of there to avoid death. If he left too soon the skeletons to repair the holes and they would not sink. Yet they would be close to sinking nonetheless. He took the opportunity when it presented itself and swam his way towards the stairs. Luckily for the merchant and his crew the water had reached beyond the lower level and filled up almost the entire ship. That didn’t take too long then ay it felt like that hours though Thomas thought to himself. As he emerged from the water to the top of the ship he could see his crews brigantine coming in close enough for him to jump over. “GREAT TIMING THIS SHIP IS DONE FOR” He yelled at his crew when the ship got close enough.
    3
    The battle continued to rage on. The two brigantines had fought hard against these skeleton ships for what felt like forever. In the water, the Megalodon still roamed. A new ship arose out of the water. There was something different about this one. At first the crew were not sure of what that difference was. The boat seemed more or less the same as the rest they had been fighting, This one was the captain. The last ship between them and victory. Christopher noticed this. “I knew something was different about this one. That’s their captain. This is it” he told Silas. Thomas couldn’t hear what was being said at the wheel as he stood by the right-hand side cannon but he had also noticed that this was the ship of the skeleton captain. He was too busy focused on something else to fully take in that they had almost won.
    “MEGALODON!” Thomas screamed to his crew. The crew turned to him and then to where he was pointing. The skeleton ship was just in front of them to the right. But that wasn’t the issue. The megalodon was swimming towards their boat with its mouth fully open ready to bite. It was coming fast.
    Thomas readied himself on the cannon. “BRACE!” he yelled just as it was about to bite. But it did not bite their ship. Up until the last second it had surely been coming right for them. The megalodon had bitten right into the skeleton ship. The skeleton ship shook. Smashing into the crew’s brigantine. Christopher stood at the wheel trying to take it all in. To their left was another brigantine and to their right a huge skeleton filled galleon getting attacked by a megalodon. “THAT’S GOT TO HAVE PUT SOME HOLES IN IT” he yelled.
    The skeleton ship was done for. The crew could see it start to sink. The bite had created too many holes for the skeletons to manage. The intruding brigantine had been careless in their management of their ship and failed to notice the water flooding into their ship. Leading to them meeting an end sooner than they had planned. For the Crew of the Flying Shark, things couldn’t have gone any better.
    Nobody knows if the crew actually did win that battle. A lot of tavern folk like to tell the story that amongst all the chaos they too had forgotten about the holes in their ship that had been made by the galleon smashing into them. They say the crew lost their boat and had to swim to the nearest island to find safety but dying to sharks before getting there.
    But one tale told in the tavern of Morrow’s Peak Outpost tells a different ending for the battle so long ago now. Pirates who stop by at the outpost will more likely than not meet a group of pirates who love to tell the fate of that crew. They tell people that the crew survived. That they were able to save their ship and get the reward they deserved and had craved for a long time. That they became extremely rich and lived now in peace in a place nobody knew.
    Funnily enough. These three pirates that love to tell the tale of riches and victory are a Merchant, Hunter and a Gold Hoarder.

  • Here’s my attempt. Feel free to correct spelling/grammer/bad English. I’m no writer.

    ——-
    A cannonball whistled past Captain XRayLexx’s head as he struggled with the wheel of the Brigantine. They had not been expecting this attack and they were certainly not prepared.

    “We are almost out of planks!” shouted OrchidPXL from below as another cannonball crashed into the hull of the ship. “We need to get out of here!” bellowed Bloodstone who was manning the cannons and trying to return fire. “Okay! We run!” said XRayLexx spinning the wheel hard to the right.

    It had already been an interesting voyage, they had set off hunting treasure like any other voyage but another sloop had attacked them whilst on the sea. They were more an annoyance than a real threat and after a short battle they had boarded them and killed the crew. But after a short trip to the Ferry of the Damned the sloops crew had returned and were tailing them again, and that when they saw the Skeleton Galleon on the horizon.

    It was unusual to see Skelton ships in these waters but XRayLexx had heard rumours the Skeleton Captains were getting brave and starting to head out away from their usual hunting spots. The Skeleton Galleon was on a direct course for them and was soon in range blasting cannonballs. Luckily they had escaped the initial attack, the sloop was not so lucky.

    That was how they had got in this predicament. The Skeleton Galleon was pursuing them, firing cannonballs at them and their little Brigantine had taken a fair pounding and supplies were running low. They could only run for so long before they would be sunk.

    “Island ahead!” cried Bloodstone and sure enough XRayLexx could see an island ahead. Maybe they could use the island to their advantage and shake of the Skelton ship. Working as one they dropped and angled the sails and made for the island. As they drew closer they recognised the island as Cannon Cove, a reasonably large island, which they had hunted treasure on many times in the past. They were approaching from the south of the island and the Captain knew there was a bay on the far side of the island with a jetty where they could possibly dock and collect some urgent supplies.

    As they closed in on the island they adjusted the sail accordingly. The last thing they wanted was to lose the ship by running aground or hitting one of the rocks that were around the island.

    They begun to pull to the left so they could circle the island in a clockwise direction. However the Skeleton Ship was still on them, following waiting for them to make a mistake or get alongside and fire more cannons into the ship.

    The Brig pull round to the north side of the island and that was when they realised they would not have time to drop anchor and get on the island to hopefully find some supplies. “We need to do something quick!” shouted OrchidPXL “A couple more hits and we will be sunk!”

    The crew were scanning the island with their telescopes whilst XRayLexx continued to circle the island whilst looking over his shoulder keep one eye on the Skeleton Ship behind them. That’s when they spotted the glint in the water down by the rocks near the beach on the island.

    “Whats that?” said XRayLexx pointing. “Treasure!” shouted the rest of the crew. A smile appeared on all their faces. “Let’s do this!”.

    “How are we going to get the treasure with this Skeleton Galleon bothering us though?” asked Bloodstone.

    That’s when they remembered they had a rowboat hooked up and attached to the rear of the Brig and immediately they all knew what to do. Bloodstone dove into the sea near the treasure bobbing up and down in the water whilst XRayLexx let go of the wheel and released the rowboat behind the Brig. OrchidPXL fired a couple of shots at the Skeleton Ship “Come and get us!” she cried. XRayLexx grabbed the wheel again and begun to take the ship further round the island and away from where the treasure was. The Skeleton ship took the bait and continued to follow the Brig leaving Bloodstone and the Rowboat alone.

    Bloodstone swam to the treasure and began grabbing what he could and moving it safely on to the beach. There was a fair amount, some cargo, a couple of skulls and a couple of treasure chests. “There’s a Stronghold Chest here!” he exclaimed. A very rare chest that would be worth a small fortune. Easily enough to cover the cost of all the damage done to their Brigantine and enough left over to afford some rum and celebrate.

    XRayLexx continued to circle the island and the Skeleton ship followed. The sea around the islands was very shallow and rocky and they knew one wrong move and the Brig would run aground or smash into a rock and they would be goners. OrchidPXL adjusted the sails so that they were getting the perfect balance of speed and manoeuvrability.

    The Brig had almost done a full circle of the island and was approaching the area where Bloodstone was waiting. Whilst the Skeleton ship had been distracted he had been loading all he found treasure onto the rowboat.

    “Are we ready?” asked XRayLexx, “We are only going to get one shot at this”.

    “I can see the rowboat ahead!” cried OrchidPXL pointing into the waters ahead as Bloodstone himself saw the Brig round the island and come into view.

    “Here we go!”, XRayLexx straightened the wheel on a course for the rowboat and Bloodstone began rowing as fast as he could to the Brig.

    The Brig and rowboat almost smashed into each other on an intercept course and Bloodstone did well to stop the rowboat from tipping over from the wake of the Brig and was drenched by the foam from the boat.

    Shots began to rain down in the water around the Brig as the pursuing Skeleton Ship swung into view behind them with the perfect angle on them. A cannonball crashed into the railing behind XRayLexx and he felt splinters shoot into his right arm “Now!” he grimaced and OrchidPXL threw a road to the rowboat and Bloodstone quickly grabbed it and tried to attach the rope.

    The Skeletons on the boat where now in sniper range and several of them had drawn their rifles and were taking shots at the crew on the Brig. A shot clipped Bloodstone in the shoulder and he cried out in pain, letting go of the rope.

    They needed to attach the rowboat to the Brig quickly, a few more seconds and the Skeleton ship would be on them and they would be sunk.

    XRayLexx dived into the sea behind the Brig, smashing into the icy waters which almost knocked the air from his lungs. He grabbed the rope that now lay in the water and handed it quickly to Bloodstone and Bloodstone quickly attached the rope and he and Orchid rapidly hoisted the rowboat onto the back of the Brig.

    “Go! Go! Go!” shouted XRayLexx “Leave me!”. They crew looked back at their captain bobbing up and down in the water and knew they had to flee. The Skeleton ship was so close they could see the whites of the Skeleton crews eyes (that is, of course, if that had eyes).

    OrchidPXL grabbed the wheel and Bloodstone dropped the sails and the wind caught them them just in time as a hail of gunfire and cannonballs landed in the sea in the sea just where the Brig was a moment ago. The Brig sped off as fast as the wind could carry her.

    XRayLexx watched as the Brig quickly pulled away from the island and was soon starting to disappear out of sight. The Skeleton ship dropped its sails also and was not giving up the chase. He was alone now with the sound of the ships quickly fading away in the distance. The sea was cold and he knew he wouldn’t survive long here. The island was a good few hundred feet away and he knew his only chance of survival was to try and swim to the beach.

    His arm was stinging in the sea and blood was pouring out where splinters had cut through. Every stroke was painful and progress was slow. That’s when he saw the shark fin in the water.

    He knew sharks patrolled these waters and he knew he was in trouble. The blood from his wound was drawing them in. He had fought with a shark before and come out to tell the tale but now he noticed several more fins appearing in the water and he knew that it would be impossible to fight of a frenzy of sharks.

    He was weak from the blood loss and still had a fair distance to swim to safety. All hope was fading.

    Then suddenly there was a strange glow of light below him and he swore he could hear a strange noise, almost like a singing choir. Maybe this is what death sounds like he thought to himself. Suddenly the light grew brighter and a mermaid popped out of the sea next to XRayLexx. He could not believe his eyes. He had heard of these creatures in folk tales but had never seen one in real life.

    The Mermaid was glowing in a strange green blue hue that seemed to emanate from the torch she was carrying in her right hand. Her large sad eyes looked at XRayLexx and they seemed both sad and welcoming at the same time. XRayLexx could see the gills on the side of her next pulsing slowly in the air and could see her long scaled tail below the surface of the water.

    The mermaid reached out her arm toward XRayLexx just as he heard the splash of the sharks closing in behind him. She grabbed him and that’s when everything went dark…

    Back on the Brig OrchidPXL had hold of the wheel and was battling the choppy water as the Brig was a full speed. The Skeleton ship was not giving up and was still behind them. She could not believe they had lost their crewmate to the Skeleton ship attack. Sure they had the treasure but was that worth the life of one of their crew. Well, maybe that Stronghold Chest would make up for it. OrchidPXL didn’t know to laugh or feel angry with herself with that thought but she knew their priority now was survival and hopefully cashing in their loot so that loss of XRayLexx was not in vain.

    “Do we have any Outposts around here?” she asked. Bloodstone was below deck frantically checking the map table. “Golden Sands Outpost” is to the North “Not far”. OrchidPXL swung the wheel around and scanned the horizon through squinted eyes and caught a glimpse of lights in the distance. She could see the Outpost.

    “Setting Course, this is going to be a race to the finish” she said just as Bloodstone was coming up on deck and adjusting the sails so they stayed ahead of the relentless Skeleton Ship.

    How are we going to do this though, though OrchidPXL. How can we dock and sell this treasure with the Skeleton Ship so close behind. It would be impossible. They did not have enough time or crew to safely do this and it could have been her imagination but she was sure the Skeleton Ship was gaining somehow.

    The Outpost was fast approaching and they had to do something and quick. That’s when they heard a splash to the side of the boat and they ran to the ladder on the port side of the boat. Hanging there was XRayLexx. He begun to quickly pull himself up the rope ladder and was lifted onto deck by OrchidPXL and Bloodstone.

    “How?” they asked together in disbelief.

    “A Tale I will tell another day” said XRayLexx . He was not sure exactly what he wanted to tell the rest of the crew he had been picked up and transported rapidly back to the Brig by a Mermaid in case they though he was mad.

    The crew smiled but knew they still had the Skeleton Ship to deal with and quickly went back to making sure the Brig was making progress on the Outpost.

    “I have an Idea” said Bloodstone “Full speed toward the Jetty, and keep on going”

    “What?” said XRayLexx “We need to drop our treasure now, this is our only chance”

    “You can sail on past but drop me in the rowboat! The Skeleton Ship will hopefully follow you and leave me quietly alone to trade in our Booty”

    “Excellent Plan!” laughed OrchidPXL.

    The Brig was now right up on the Outpost and XRayLexx gently guided the ship so it would pass close to the jetty which led into the buildings and tents where the Trading Guilds were based. The Skeleton Ship had somehow gained some speed and was beginning to pull along side them on their right and had started to fire cannons.

    The shots where whistling above the Brig and were crashing into the island to the Brigs left.

    “Now!” shouted Bloostone and OrchidPXL released the rowboat from the back of the Brig. Bloodstone and the treasure on the rowboat crashed into the water. Bloodstone began to frantically row to the jetty as the Brig sped off.

    The Skeleton Ship took the bait for a second time that day and continued to follow the Brig as Bloodstone took one final stroke of the Oars and docked the rowboat alongside the Jetty. He picked up the Stronghold chest and hurriedly walked towards the Gold Hoarders establishment. This would be worth a pretty penny to the crew. If the crew survived this of course, he thought grimly.

    On the Brig OrchidPXL and XRayLexx could see Bloodstone on the jetty fading away quickly as the Brig continued away from the Outpost. They had done it. Bloodstone could drop of the treasure in peace. Though they still had the problem with the Skeleton Ship pulling along side them. They had only a few cannonballs left and no wood to repair the ship. They knew there was nowhere left to go.

    The Skeleton Ship was now along side them but it’s guns had stopped. What was going on? They could see the Skeleton Captain up on the deck at the wheel looking at them and its crew stood by their cannons but for some reason they were not attacking.

    “This is odd” said XRayLexx

    “Very” said OrchidPXL

    Then the captain of the Skeleton ship shouted something in a weird skeleton dialect and the rest of the Skeleton crew let our what sounded like an eerie cackle. The Skeleton Ship then turned away and sailed off away and into the horizon.

    The Skeleton ship had left them alone. They had made it. XRayLexx and OrchidPXL stood on the deck in disbelief and exhaustion, they had survived this encounter and treasures awaited them back at the outpost.

    They knew they might not be so lucky in their next adventure….
    —-

  • A Legend Emerges

    “Main sail up!” Yells the helmsman. So two men on top deck begin to pull up main sail. I was one of those two, our fourth member was high in the crows nest gazing at our destination for any signs of life or the undead. Shipwreck bay was creepy enough but as the fog rolled in it made things more eerie than ever. The trip from Sanctuary, where we purchased our voyage from the creepy Order of Souls lady, was extremely uneventful. Not even as much as a bird on the horizon until we neared our destination. Our crew was made up of some fairly new sailors, the lookout had only sailed on one other ship, and apparently it met a nasty end. The helmsman and the other deck hand were decently knowledgeable and capable sailors but still fairly green. As for me, I have been sailing these seas for some time, enough to be well known by some but I was here to relax and was happy to simply take orders.
    “Raise forward Sail!”, yells the helmsman. We were getting close to the jagged rocks that surround Shipwreck bay, and from this point we would coast in and around the rocks. With the forward and main sails up our speed greatly decreased and our rudder became more submerged which made maneuvering easier. As we cleared the surrounding rocks and the beach front became easily viewable the rear sail was called to be raised. From this point we would coast to a stop facing south near the western beach front. Being reasonably experienced our helmsman knew that the anchor wasn’t needed and so it wasn’t lowered as we came to a halt by the beach.
    As we offloaded our supplies and prepared for our trip to shore our helmsman called to the crows nest for a survey. The lookout quickly responded “Nothing on the horizon but the fog, but I have eyes on our undead friends hiding in a grove.” So we ensured all lanterns were out before heading ashore to hunt.
    I was the last to step onto the shore, the lookout was the only one remaining on the Galleon. As I neared the passage to the grove I heard a yell from the ship. I curiously paused since the passage had distorted the yell, but as I stood there the helmsman and the other deckhand came running past and simply yelled, “GALLEON!” I immediately turn and began sprinting back to the ship. As I climb aboard I ask how far away is it, and began looking for the ship on the horizon. I quickly found the crew at the stern of the ship and before I could ask again about the other galleon I could see it. Black sails billowed in the wind as it rampaged the waves in its path. It had appeared from the fog and had done so with intent as it was headed straight to us. Our helmsman stood still and then it was nothing but silence from the rest of the crew, they were in awe. As the Black sails came closer a hull painted a vibrant bloody red became visible and topping the forward mast a vibrant gold pennant but the flag wasn’t immediately viewable. With little time to react and the rest of the crew in shock I stepped in.
    “Angle the sails for the wind, but Do Not Drop them!”, I barked. The helmsman and deckhand wasted no time shifting the sails. “Hold fast!” I yelled as the blood red ship barreled towards us. Five lengths away and closing fast, three lengths and I can see the sails being raised and the enemy helmsman turning hard starboard. I yell, “All Sails Full Billow!” The sails unfurl and the crew stumbles to stand as the ship lurches forward with the wind. The enemy Galleon fires as it’s cannons come to bare on our original location but the shots fall behind as we barrel forward. In full view of the entire crew was the flag of the enemy Galleon, a purple back ground with gold ends and the skull emblem of a legend showed in the fading sunlight.
    As we cleared the rocks to our immediate right I called for the main sail to be raised half mast and I pulled the wheel hard to starboard. Our lookout slid down from the crows nest to prepare for a pass on the enemy Galleon’s bow. “Fire as we bare.” I call as the enemy Galleon stares in confusion off the bow of their ship. Our first pass hammers the lower bow and a shot buzzes the helmsman, but the enemy Galleon cruises behind us and opens fire on our stern with no real damage. I pull the helm to port and bring our cannons to bare on the enemy Galleon again, a slug fest ensues between our galleons.
    The winds shift softly over the waves as roaring cannons fire and planks shatter. Our sails billow and we lunge beyond our enemy. I begin counter steering to maintain a good angle but if I continue with my current course we will cross their bow and risk a collision, this early in the fight a collision could be catastrophic for us if they manage to board from our stern. I pull the helm hard starboard and call for the others to hold fire and pull forward sail and mid sail full up in hopes that our sudden turn and slowing speed would close the firing window that would be open for the enemy galleon. My plan worked as they quickly sail past and miss their next two volleys in our stern. I pull helm hard port and the boys fire at the fleeting galleon from our port side cannons quickly striking the helmsman and injuring him. “Lower forward sails”, I call as we prepare to dance with the enemy galleon.
    We made several passes on each other trading blows before beginning a dreadful spiral assault with our port side in an attempt to maintain angle on the cannons with one another. I could see that neither of us were going to falter so I flip our helm, and our partner began to pull out of their violent port turn in an attempt to catch us. With this momentary pause in the fight I slink up the main sail. Up until this point our flag poll has been bare, so I yell to the crew, “It’s about time I show them who they are messing with!” I unfold my flag and as the wind catches it, the enemy galleon gets a clear view of the crisp golden borders shining in the rising sun, the purple background with an emblazoned skull showed clearly as a legend emerged from hiding.
    As I slide down the main mast my crew below in awe, I ask, “Are y’all ready to have some fun?” With a quick pause the crew yells, “Aye”! “Then get that main sail lowered half, we don’t want to out run them just yet.” I say calmly as I walk back to the helm. As our sails catch the wind we steady our speed to match our opponent as both galleons finish a starboard turn to come along side one another, cannons begin roaring once again but this time the crew had their aim set and destroyed the port side of the opposing galleon. The helmsman for the bloody galleon pulled hard starboard to pull range from our onslaught.
    “Pull Main Sail”, I call as I begin to turn to port and place the wind to my back as if to run from the fight, but to the dismay of my crew I ordered sails hard right and out of the winds path. As we began to slow the opposing galleon turns back and begin heading in our direction, if my plan was to work and we win this fight I needed to know the damages. “How are supplies”, I call? My crew responds worried but energetically, “We have 40 planks left and about half as many cannonballs”. “Perfect, hold fire and get ready to climb that center mast!”, I call. As the opposing galleon closes and prepares to ram us and board they keep their distance wide to our starboard stern.
    “Go Now”, I yell as my original helmsman scales the main mast to the crows nest. I pull hard to port and quickly jump down to slam the main sail full open, the enemy galleon had turned hard to finish its ram from a sharp angle off the starboard stern but in doing so they lined up perfectly for my helmsman to sling a lit gunpowder barrel off the port side plank. My sails caught the wind perfectly and pulled us clear of the barrel as it exploded and threw the enemy galleon hard to port and out of boarding range. I immediately call for the main sail to be pulled and our port side cannons begin lighting off as the now crippled enemy galleon limps into the wind. A half dozen rounds land and wood can be seen flying but many of the shots landed mid deck and didn’t prevent the opposing crew from repairing. I pulled the helm straight to avoid a rock in our path as the galleon disappears around it. As we clear the rock I can see the enemy galleon is quickly correcting course to attempt a ram, so I turn our galleon to port to face them head on. I order sails all forward as the wind shifts and begins flowing from starboard to port and neither ship has an advantage, the opposing galleon angles sails for speed and I keep mine steady ahead. I ask about supplies for one last time, we have just a few cannonballs left but nearly thirty planks. As we barrel towards each other I simple ask my original helmsman if he’s ready? “ALWAYS!” He replies as he scales up to the crows nest to grab our last keg. As we near the galleon and a ram is imminent I yell “NOW”! and my helmsman slings the lit barrel off our starboard plank and I slam our helm hard to port. As our spits pass, ours is just to the left, our bows slam into each other but with my helm hard to port the impact slings our galleon into the path of the wind and away from the enemy galleon with minor damages. The enemy galleon is then met with another loud explosion as the keg we had thrown overboard explodes directly under their starboard side slinging them wildly into the air.
    “ALL SAILS UP!” I order, and I ensure our helm is still to port. The crew is well versed now and knows the plan without my words, as a well oiled machine they swing all three sails to catch the wind at an angle. “Now”, I call and all sails drop and we wrench into gear as a chase ensues. The enemy galleon heads nearly directly into the wind, I pull our galleon to carry more wind at a sharper angle in hopes of getting those last few cannonballs on target. As we near, our angle is too sharp and we hold our fire. “Quickly! Tack the sails!” I call as all three sails sling to the opposing side in time with my helm. We catch the wind again and pull along side. We fire our remaining cannonballs and strike the stern of the galleon. “Tack”, I call as we flip the sails and the helm to catch the wind and pull closer in an attempt to board. As we near the galleon I spot a small rock that will soon be in our path, I make the call and we pull the main sail just in time to slow and avoid the rock. With no ammo and the enemy galleon still underway we choose to head for an outpost and resupply. I call for the flag to be lowered from the mast and I head to the captains quarters.
    Our helmsman meets me in the quarters and we inspect the treasure we had not sold earlier. Among the marauders chests sat our chicken still alive atop the captains table. We had survived, No, we had won.

  • When I first arrived on the Sea of Thieves I was practically a boy; fresh faced, a clean shaven head, both my eyes, and a longing for the adventure I'd heard of in tavern tales. I yearned to be a part of those stories, even a small part, far more so than for anything else. That's why I left everything behind to forge my legend. Even the rumors of vast riches and chests overflowing with gold didn't peak my interest as much as the prospect of being remembered for eternity. I didn't know how harsh or unforgiving these waters could be. I didn't know the pain of death or the relief of those ghastly doors breaking open.

    The first step I took towards dry land after months at sea was on to the wet, creaky dock of Golden Sands Outpost. It seemed so lively; merchants pushing pencils, greedy men clutching golden treasures like their last morsel, and a mysterious tent with God knows what manner of dark dealings, only hinted at by the faint, unnatural glow that seeped out from underneath.

    All of that would have to wait as a crewmate grabbed hold of my arm. “This way James,” he said as he pulled me past the bustling shops to a very lively pub. I remember shaking with both fear and anticipation as I looked up at the severed pirate head painted on the tavern’s sign. Is that how I'd end up? Not a legend, not a captain, just a dead man with no tales to tell?

    I was pulled from my distressed thoughts when a woman came stumbling backwards out of the tavern door, falling into my arms like the hook to some corsair’s love novel. Though, unlike those stories, this woman spat out a gold tooth into the dirt, muttered something about how I'd “better not touch that ‘cause she’d be back for it”, and stomped back into the tavern. I followed after, into the dimly lit room where all the best stories begin. The tavern keeper must have noticed how out of place I looked right away because she called me over.

    “Drink this and look like ye have some hair on your chest, or one of these folk is gonna take everything you have and leave you paddling around the Sea of Thieves in a row boat,” she said as she handed me a tankard full of grog. It's a foul drink but it beats bilge. I can’t be certain how many tankards I emptied after the first, just that I woke up on a ship, apparently part of the crew.

    I didn't have long to get familiar with my surroundings. I was awakened by the sound of cannon fire, there was water up to my waist, and everyone was running back and forth trying to keep our ship afloat. I quickly grabbed a bucket and began to bail fast as I could until I felt the firm grasp of a hand on my shoulder. A man with a large gray beard, wearing a regal purple coat and a hat to match pulled me into the captain’s quarters by my collar. He motioned to a chest on the ground, teal in color, with the face of Neptune adorning the front, tears flowing from his eyes. The most terrible wails were coming from it and water poured out as if the sea itself was inside, trickling through the floorboards.

    “This chest is cursed, boy,” came the rough voice of the Captain. “It’s one of the Chests of Sorrow, and I’ve gave a lot to get me hands on it,” he raised an ornately decorated hooked hand high in the air. “Now they be coming to take it from me,“ as he said this a cannon ball burst through the window and into the floor, almost as if it had been staged. “We’re coming up on Wanderer’s Refuge and when we get near enough I'll be throwin’ you overboard.” My stomach leapt up in fear. “I hope you have strong legs, because you’ll be takin’ the chest with you and you'll make sure that when it gets to the Gold Hoarders, they know it was the crew of the Maelstrom that delivered it.” My stomach settled as I began to understand that I was not being marooned, but setting out on a new voyage.

    Sure enough, as we sailed past the sun touched shores of Wanderer’s Refuge he walked me out a side door in his quarters. He handed me his pistol, an older pistol, uncharacteristic for him from what I'd seen, with worn blue paint that must have been stunning long ago and a Spade painted on the handle. Then over the bannister I went. The water rushed past my face and the salt stung my eyes. I tried to stay under the water until I reached the shore but the weight of the chest was too much for me and I needed air. As I breached the surface the once muffled sounds of battle became deafening. Stray lead rained down around me before I threw my head back under the waves and pushed towards my goal.

    Without enough time to properly bury the chest, I carried it up a hill and ran to where the foliage was unkempt, quickly stuffing it under a large bush. Then I ran to a cliffside where I could get a better view of the naval battle occurring just off the island. I watched as my ship’s bow rose into the air and sunk below the surface. I heard the echoes of blunderbusses and knew my crew wouldn't be following me to shore. I needed a way off the island, but there was none to be seen. That's when, cross my heart, I heard a soft song coming from the water. A beautiful woman poked her head out of the depths and beckoned for me to come, whispering promises of salvation. A mermaid. Her song was entrancing but I could hear the sounds of footsteps quickly approaching. The other crew had come ashore to look for me. I was desperate to live. I took a chance, charging into the water. I swam to her as fast as I could; she grabbed my hand and pulled me under the waves. I'd heard rumors of malevolent mermaids dragging sailors to their deaths and prayed that's not how this would end.

    As we propelled through the water my chest became tight and I felt my lungs ready to collapse. She pulled my face to hers and with one gentle kiss air filled my lungs. The pressure in my chest subsided and I felt calmer than I've ever been. I don't know how much time passed.

    She had pulled me through the sea, if memory serves me well, to the shores of Crescent Isle. When I'd finally dragged myself onto the beach and wiped the water from my face, I spotted a ship sitting in the bay. The air was filled with silence, her captivating melody noticeably absent. I looked long for her but she was nowhere to be seen. I climbed the ladder onto the deck of the ship and there was something familiar about it. I looked up at the name plaque above the captain's quarters to see that I was once again aboard the Maelstrom. I don't know what magic pulled this ship from the depths and I wouldn't believe it unless I'd seen it myself, but there it was, with not a single scratch or hole. I sailed that beautiful ship by myself to Sanctuary. I had a chest I needed to retrieve, a crew to avenge, and a reputation to build. I'd need sailors.

    I was lucky to find that the tavern had all manner of washed up veterans, eager new arrivals, and even a few worthwhile pirates. I took anyone willing to join me and while the group I managed to whip together wasn't the best, they'd do. We set sail back to Wanderer’s Refuge, ready for a fight. The wind was foul, and the sea ran high. Waves crashed over us and filled our hull with bilge. The weather seemed to be an omen of the battle that was to come, but when the call came from the crow’s nest that we had spotted the island, there wasn't a ship in sight. All of the time I'd spent preparing myself and there was no battle to be had. I set foot on the island fearing the worst. I knew just where I'd left the chest, but when I reached the spot my heart fell out through the bottom of my boot. The chest was gone, and my tale was one of failure. I searched the island in a fit of worry and rage but it was of no use. I hung my head in shame. That's when I heard one of my crew, an old chap with a peg instead of a left leg and two eyes so worn they might as well have both had patches over ‘em, hollering like an unfed pig. I could just barely make out the words, “I found it!”

    I barreled through the trees and when I got to him, there it was. Not for the first time on this journey I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. I demanded to know where he'd found it. “It was just sittin’ right ‘ere on the beach cap’n.” My heart climbed back up to where it belonged and I stood proud.

    I can't say what happened to the crew that sunk the Maelstrom or why the chest was left there, and I can't say I ever gave it much thought. There was no time to waste in getting the chest to Golden Sands. Much as I'd like to say that this is where the real excitement began, it’s not. It was smooth sailing all the way to the outpost. We delivered the chest to the Gold Hoarders and while I don't know if my captain ever made it out of the Sea of the Damned, I made sure they knew whose ship was delivering it. I'd made my first little mark on the Sea of Thieves that day and to show for it I had a new ship, a fair bit of gold, and an island I’d always feel connected to.

    Wanderer’s Refuge: the place I learned how wondrous the Sea of Thieves could be, and the place I learned how cruel it was. In my adventures I had waded through shipwrecks, battled skeleton captains, delivered chickens, and slayed The Hungering One. Anyone who tells that last bit different is selling something. After all of my journeys, I always went back to that island. I fought people off of it, dug up its treasure and pored over it to learn it’s secrets. That was my mistake.

    One day I stumbled upon a cave that I swear hadn't been there before. I lifted my lantern high and walked through the narrow tunnel, pistol in hand. I arrived at an “abandoned" hideout. “No one would dare set up on Captain James Church’s island,” I told myself. “It must be left over from the first pirates to plunder the Shores of Plenty.” I was thrilled. There was so much to discover in this forgotten cave: alchemy sets and blacksmithing tools, journals of someone whose name sounded a bit too familiar, and best of all, a soft bed with a wonderful feather pillow. I finally had a proper place to hide my gold and rest my bones.

    I enjoyed two, maybe three nights of my new palace before it happened. I awoke to the sound of voices and the light of a lantern. I jumped up from my bed as a figure emerged from the cave mouth. I grabbed my cutlass but as I lifted it a single shot billowed from her pistol. The roar of it rang through the walls of the cave at a deafening volume. At first it felt like she'd only struck me with a stone. Then I felt the burning, and smelled the awful stench. I looked down as the blood began to soak my shirt and stumbled back onto the bed. My hands, arms, and even my clothes began to glow a ghostly green before everything went black. Next I know a rope is splashing into the water beside me. I'm pulled aboard a Galleon, but something isn't right, that ghostly green light is everywhere around me.

    I look to the woman who had tossed the rope, hoping for some sort of explanation for what had happened to me. She was a frightening sight, spectral and in some places skeletal. Her clothes were ragged and her smile was grim. The pleas of “don’t be afraid” were lost on me as I turned around, only to be met with more terrifying specters. After many hours, and more than a few useless cutlass slashes, the crew got me to calm down. They explained to me where I was and I began to remember why I was there. That scoundrel had murdered me, and I wanted my revenge. I begged the Ferryman to send me back. He had a different plan for me though.

    I was told that the doors open for some, when the time is right. Until they did, it was my job to crew the Ferry of the Damned. I was there for a torturous amount of time. I watched people come aboard and leave while I stayed. Not all moments of it were bad, but most were. I remember another fallen pirate recounting how he'd arrived after being bitten by a snake. The small moments of comradery like that were almost the only thing to keep you going. The only other comfort was the hopeless hope that was always with you: that the doors would open for you at any moment. Days turned to months. Eventually, I forgot how long I'd been on the ship, or why I wanted to leave. Tedious hours passed by like minutes until time had little meaning. I heard a snap, then a crack, and the doors to the mortal realm popped open. I saw the glowing emerald portal whirling, waiting for me to step through.

    “Go now, Church. There will be plenty of time for you to linger when my portal no longer opens for you,” the haunting voice of the Ferryman echoed over the water. I stepped through the doorway and above me a grey sky manifested. I heard the sound of birds and smelled the salt in the air. I was on a small island that I now know was somewhere north of Galleon’s Grave. I stumbled over to a nearby rowboat to find all of my belongings were sitting inside.

    There I was, paddling my way to an outpost with nothing but my compass and spyglass to get me there. Exactly what I was told would happen if I got careless. A mistake I never should have made, and one I haven't made since. I washed ashore on Galleon’s Grave and from there I managed to secure passage to Golden Sands in exchange for my help delivering fragile bottles of rum. I had a long time to think about who had shot me, and I knew where they were.

    When we arrived at the outpost, I made my way straight to the blacksmith. I drew my pistol as I pushed open the door to the shop. A spark and a bang erupted from my flintlock. The bullet zipped past the woman's head and embedded into the wall. She screamed and I paused for a moment.

    “Who are you?” I asked incredulously. The woman in front of me wasn't the one who'd shot me, though she looked strikingly similar. That's how I came to find out that Wanda had become “Captain Warsmith", that she had been defeated, and that her sister had taken over her shop. Again, revenge eluded me. I had been stuck on the Ferry for far longer than I had realised. Just like that, so much time had slipped through my fingers. Wonda says that they never found her sister's remains, that someday she may come back and we should be ready. I'll be ready. I thought for some time about what would be my next move, but the answer was clear. As I always do, I returned to the Refuge.

    #AthenasFortuneContest

  • The Journey to Port All

    Rum was all we had. So rum was all he used. Surely fine occasions such as the naming and blessing of a ship were reserved for only the most holy of champagnes, or divine wines. Yet here was the local barmaid, dressed in her best morning after rags, pooring our gunpowder filled rum on the deck.

    "The Sandy Pearl", she said, naming the ship.

    Are you joking, sweetness? The Sandy Pearl? Our new illustrious Captain Shortround hires the local barmaid to bless his new ship with rum, and she calls it 'The Sandy Pearl'?! Real terrifyin' name that is.

    I had been on many an odd named ship, breaking my back under harsh conditions. Wasn't long before I was recruited to the life a free man. A pirate's life was free, and we didn't have to work hard, so long as the salted meat, coin and rum flowed to the Captain's quarters. The Sandy Pearl I could live with, so long as I got my rum rations. And I heard that the Captain had 100 bags of limes from Egypt, and 100 jars of muscovado sugar from the West Indies. I intend to get my fill. Sure as heck this Captain Shortround was on a mission from the Queen herself.

    Just without a privateering license.


    My name is Jemas. I was born in St Lucia. Raised on the sea. Sea salt runs in my veins, as did my pop, whoever he was. Mother never told me much about him. Don't think she ever knew him. Said he was a sailor. He loved rum and sailing, and that's all I know.

    My mother takes care of my daughter as I try to make a living wage to send back to them. Following in his footsteps.

    I was recruited by the rich man claiming to be a Captain in this godforsaken wayward port. It's name forgotten to me for the past three months that I've been in a grog-fueled haze.

    Not long after his arrival, the people started calling him 'Shortround', for the simple fact he was quite short with a large round pot belly. Some claim that he wore special shoes that gave him extra height. Not to mention his extra large tricorner hat decorated with some sort of animal bones that made him look taller.

    He was wearing royal blue breeches, a white overcoat with red trim, and a waist sash made of fine silk. Trinkets hung from every item he wore. Each item and every trinket had it's own story. He had one earing that hung down to his shoulder. It shone with a gold twinkle between the bone and feather additions. He caught me coming down from the rooms above the shadiest tavern in town, 'The Murky Grog'.

    "Ay matey, 'bout time you got yer sea legs back?", he yelled.

    It wasn't hard to tell that I've been on land this long. Waiting for a pirate like him to recruit me.

    "Aye.", I replied without too much excitement. I didn't want him to know I was eager.

    "Me ship is finished on the west side of port.", he said, reminding me of massive galleon that had been sitting there since before I arrived. "I hope to take 'er through tah 'Port All'."

    Port All? Where the hell was Port All? I've been to Cape Breton and back, but never have I heard of 'Port All'. I was intriuged.

    "I'll pay you daily food and rum rations and 100 coin. Triple the pay if you survive the trip. Do meet me on the Jetty by the gally tomorrow mornin' if you're fairin' high risk adventure and reward.". He tipped his tricorner hat and walked back into the street as if looking for more poor landlubbing souls to recruit.

    This was it. Time to go to sea once more. I had nothing to lose. Me mum was back in St. Lucia and even then, she'd make sure I'm working. I had been trying to get home to her and my daughter for some time. A journey promising triple pay could change things for the better. My only wish is to eat bananas and mangoes everyday, and wild hog every night, with my family. Oh, I wish I was there now.


    It was three weeks by my count before the crew started to get riled. Whispers of being duped and used. They dare not say 'mutiny', but you could tell the crew was thinkin' it. Three weeks and no plunderin', no stalkin', no stops at port.

    To many of the crew he recruited, he was just some unknown crazy man at port pretendin' to be a pirate. They were lured by his coin and trinkets, and promise of triple pay. Still, the Captain would refused to tell us where Port All was. He would just yell the same thing, "Triple pay when we go through tah Port All!"

    Mind you, we all wanted to see this mysterious port. Many of the men were so jaded, it was the only reason they left land again. To see a new port. To see new tastes and new sounds.

    On every ship, there be talk of mutiny. And it's never really 'mutiny'. Mutiny is only a crime on her majesty's ships. On a pirate ship, the crew just votes in a new captain and we follow his commands during battle. Sometimes going through 12 captains in a year. The crew also usually votes where to plunder. That's what made this trip odd and made tensions run high. We were following orders and sailing for days to this mysterious port without a stop. Without a plunder. Our curiousity ran thicker than the resent of not chasing ships down for their booty.


    Everyone's tone changed the morning of Day 22.

    (DING! DING! DING! DING!)

    I was awoken suddenly by the captain's bell and the rush of other sailor's scrambling to get on deck.

    "SQUALL! SQUALL! ALL HANDS ON DECK YA MANGEY MUTTS,", the captain belted at the top of his lungs. "PORT TACK, STARTING WITH THE FRONT MAST! GO! GO!"

    I could barely get up to the second deck as the ship began to lean left. His muffled voice still belting commands from the wheel as other men tripped and rushed to get above. "TURNING HARD STARBOARD! GRAB A HOLD O' SOMETHIN' AND LOOK TO THE SKIES BOYS! WE'RE ALMOST THERE!!", he screamed.

    I ran through the second deck to the stairs. The men who were already above could be heard swearing and yelling in tongues, as they struggled to move the sails to the port side. Moving up the stairs and out from below deck, I looked to my right to see a wave taller than the ship itself, but a sky still blue as sapphire. I was in awe. The rain hit my face with a sharp sting and cold shock, bringing me back to reality.

    "PRAY WE MAKE IT OVER YA FILTHY LANDLUBBERS!", yelled the captain, ending with a maniacal laugh.

    I grabbed the nearest rope to help the man we call Skinny Lenny angle the sail. He was far from Skinny.

    "You best hold on mate!", Lenny said to me with an air of confidence, but equally unsettling unsure smile.

    The sails caught wind and the ship climbed the monstrous wave to the starboard side, reaching the top of it. At the pinnacle of the wave, time stood still, with the blue sky and calm air feeling like we reached heaven. A lifetime within the span of a breath. One that none of us wanted to let go. Then like that, we went back down the other side of the wave. The sky turning from sapphire blue to blood red the further down the wave we went. A blood red so surreal, it gave you chills just to look at. I remember a sinking feeling deep in my bowels as the air deadend around me. The water changing colour only added to the sorrow we all felt.

    Something was wrong. Something had changed. The storm wasn't as strong, but the water felt putrid and 'dark'. An ancient evil hiding something sinister. We could all feel it without saying a word to eachother. We wanted to go back.

    A sorrow becalmed us as we began to sail without question at a monotone pace. Slow and lethargic, yet efficient. The red water began to break the hull of the ship, and other sailors began to fix and bucket out the water without question. What was happening to us?

    "We must push on sailors.", said the Captian with ease. His tone indicating he had done this before. "The Devil's Shroud has you, and you must look within yourself to carry on. Look within your cold dark Pirate hearts for the light you still have. Otherwise we shan't make it out o' this fetid terror."

    "Where'd you bring us?!", yelled one of the younger men with terror in his voice.

    The captain snapped back, his auburn eyes seemingly glowing red, matching the colour of the sky. "I told you all already! The Devil's Shroud boy! And if you want to make it out if this alive, we must keep sailing towards the portal!"

    "The portal?", said Old Jetty Joe, an oldtimer and well respected sailor at many ports. "You mean the portal to the sea of thieves? Hahaha! That's a myth!"

    All the crew started laughing. Much like tales of mermaids and krakens, the sea of thieves was that of myth and legend amongst hardened sea veterens. Keeping new sailors awake at nights on the sea.

    "You tricked us! You made us think we were going to a new port!", yelled Jetty Joe, "You're a fraud!"

    Before the crew could get more angry, one of the crew came up from below panicking, "We need more people to help fix the hull and pump the wate-"

    "You may think I'm a fraud,", yelled the Captain, cutting him off, "but you'll have to take it up with me after I sail you out of this!"

    He was right. We were stuck sailing with him and keeping the ship afloat until we made it to calmer waters. Where ever that may be.

    We continued sailing. Filled with sorrow, and now rage. Rage that the sea was feeding off of. Draining us of our will to retaliate. Whoever Captain Shortround was, it was all apart of his plan. We had been duped. Forced to sail this horrid red sea. My eyes begin to close further and further with each angling of the sail. Terror was now apart of me. Only seeing darkness with each blink. Dread in each breath. I must sleep now. I am tired. So very tired.


    Waves. I hear calm waves on a beach. The wind blows hot, cooling and heating at the same time. I can smell wood and sand. Open my eyes. They hurt. Mouth is parched, head aching. Try blink the pain away. Rub my eyes. Focus. I'm in the shade, on a beach, under a rowboat, held up by paddles. A small fire beside me has gone out. "Where am I?", I whisper.

    I crawl out of the makeshift camp and see a jetty, palm trees, a few buildings and a tavern. Barrels everywhere. Barrels filled with supplies. One of them has bananas. I'm starving.

    The sign on the tavern reads: "The Captain's Head". I'm very sure I have never been to this port.

    In the tavern, I am greeted by a joyful Captain Shortround and a few of the crew from the ship. Old Jetty Joe is passed out at the table with a bucket for a hat. He looks very content.

    "Welcome to the Sea of Thieves.", says the Captain, handing me a bag of 300 coins and cup of some clear and clean grog. Probably the sweetest grog I ever tasted.

    "But how did we get through the portal?", I ask, "Howcome I fell asleep?"

    "Aye.", says the Captain with a smirk, "Revealing that wasn't part of the deal."

    I couldn't help but laugh and just be thankful I'm alive. I had a toast with the Captain, and looked around curiously at my new surroundings. My journey here was only just beginning.

    #AthenasFortuneContest

  • "ALL HANDS!"
    Ne'er had I seen the fear in a man's eyes like this, before.
    "MID SAILS TO FULL AND SEE THEY'RE FULL OF WIND!" Make haste was our only option, our very lives depended on it. Lines taught, guns loaded, the black of the night and seas confounded every effort to put her to our rudder. This fool's endeavour would sure damn us to The Locker. We'd chosen our actions with neary a though on its recourse. Tales were told of her ferocity, by many accounts were they different, all bore
    different hallmarks, 'cept one name, KRAKEN.

    Jovial were the voices in the tavern on Golden Sands Outpost, every man's share of recent voyages spent on their boons worth. Duke, stood proud and merry by the hearth, adventure in his heart, and a smile across his tanned face, exchanged a letter, and a handshake, to a man we'd ne'er seen, and wouldn't be seen again. Purple and green bottles glowed softly among their loose string from the roof, catching the nearby candles glow, granting the room pleasant tiding. Music played proud as if by magic with neary a bard in sight. A black hatted stranger watched silently near the back door, not speakin' but to give advice for greenhorn sailors, not movin' but to drink from her tankard, not blinkin' for her one remaining eye sees with a blue glow. Four Pirates, dressed in purple, adorned in golden chains, rose from a staircase below, excited they were settin' sail on a quest to find the fabled Chest of Athena. Three continued with spirited step and shanties sung high, one stopped mid stride, as if he needed us all to know, of ... her. He spoke in a hushed, urgent whisper to our first mate, seated closest to the bar, who's only eye shot open at the breathy words held low to the ear, his excited fear barely kept within as he made way up to see the Captain. As he strode he turned back only so see the fourth stranger vanished quick as he'd been seen, the lasting impression being her name, Kraken. The creature Captain had sorely wanted to seek, had finally made her presence known.

    A few hours later, first light had made it's way across the Tavern. Barmaids last call fell on deaf ears, as we sat, we talked, we dared. Captain found it in himself to sail for her, his intentions unclear, his thirst for legendary beasts not quenched since Merrick's reward for the The Hungering One. Talk grew messy as Captain made intent to observe her known, then to defeat her, and back to observing again. We all thought our Captain mad as nervous glance exchanged inward of the crew, our trust be firmly implanted in him though, we swore to hunt alongside come hell or high waters, we ne'er expected to see both, though. We had moved our seating to the table outside so as to give Tina reprieve of our presence, and to chart headings for an area, two leagues east of Kraken's Fall and one league north of Cinder Islet, last known location of the Kraken. Legend be told she waits there, calling to her Kin nigh of her Ilk, knowing not they'd been taken ashore and cast to their deaths, writhing without mother sea to protect and keep them. The bones left strewn across Kraken's Fall, their skulls frozen in an evil grin, almost foretelling revenge, a grim epitaph to their lives cut short. Her calls, sorrowed, angry, confused, and vengeful, can be heard as far cast as Paradise Springs, makin' the most beset and staunch sea goer look to the waters in fear.

    At last, Captain had called to ship. In neary a moments passing, we were filled with all manner to keep us afloat and alive, bearing eastward, with Shark Tooth Key in our spyglass, Fool's Lagoon on our rudder, and the wind singing sou-east. Our sails draped red, bulged tightly as the wind found them full. "Spritely now, Lads. Calypso's blessing be favourin' the sails, the horizon approaches!" Captain was always one to keep spirits high with good news, and the chest to take brunt on solemn tidings. As the waves died, we stowed sail, the aft of the Foul Eel was spied out the water, with her bow pointing low. We dove deep, returning with a handful more supplies, and some ill gotten booty, glowing green, and whispering in a low hiss. It was pleasant air in the eve as we lost the sun behind Old Boot Fort, stars shinin' low as if to call their guide on darkened seas. "Stand to and stow the main sail. Aft sails to half, and get some rest, Lads. The morn' delivers us". Our bones ached for the sweet caress that rest would bring, and this callin', as we found, was to be our comeuppance, and, our demise. A debt owed for our time spend near Devil's Ridge, she had found us. She knew what had transpired that day, how our cannons found, and slay The Hungering One, how our brethren had cast her family to the isle, knowing not their ends lie there, where we were yet to pass. She had moved, silent as the night, just east off the last uncharted lands, and looked straight up at our bellies, listless, tired, and worst off, unaware.

    The growl she bellowed was none unlike anyone had heard before or since. The waters blackened around our very helm as she inked those waters, halting our direction steadfast, we slowed to neary a halt. The shine of the moon brought the fear of our bellies to our very eyes as her long tentacles shot skywards, glistening as they carried the ink upward with them, taller than the mizzen, and twice as thick, she took form. First there were but two aft, then 5 more joined at port, one off the bow, and three by starboard, she let loose one more low, menacing growl, shakin' the waters preparing to unleash fury on the ship. She was smart, aye. She kept her head below the waves, not felt to the air, nor seen our weapons. "ALL HANDS!" Captain leaped, he'd taken on a greater foe than his fathoming, and now he needed to call ship, and crew for a fight they were destined to lose. "MID SAILS TO FULL AND SEE THEY'RE FULL OF WIND. WESTWARD, HO. STATIONS ON THE LONG ARMS, SHOOT STRAIGHT AND TRUE. WE MAKE FOR SAFETY ON THE LAST UNCHARTED ISLE." These were the last words Captain would give as the Kraken drew a mighty breath, and with it, The Captain, swept clean off his wheel, into the waiting aft jaws. He called to loose the arms as he trailed into the night, ne'er to be seen again. Our cannons sang with mighty thunder, giving all the lead we had, as the long fallen night gave us no quarter, our defenses were for naught against a foe we had no true bearing. The portside was hit hard, she swung a mighty limb, striking with force to knock men to their backs, and punch holes in the lower deck, as it gave a mighty crack, splintering outward and high. She had drawn tall and lay one mighty tentacle over the hull, holding our ship in her firm, ever tightening grip, crushing us as we fought. The smell of her made the strongest nose wretch their stomach, the blackening seas almost more acrid, as if her very presence turned the oceans to pure salt. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to battle, our mettle was tested to our very ends. Heels down, hands raw, we dug in. "EACH MAN DRAW SWORDS AND HAVE AT HER!" First-mate Joe had found his voice, givin' his best thinkin' to defend. He knew not, her blood stung venomous as a snake, makin' our task perilous with each effort. With each swipe or dash, she gripped tighter, growling louder the hull cried out, splintering, she had crushed us through the middle, ready to pull us to meet Davey Jones.

    The screams, the growl, the ship torn asunder, still haunt me to this day. Their sounds in my ears when I close my eyes at night, the smell still fouls the air, the terror my burden till I'm laid to rest. I'll never fathom how our rowboat made it out with but two of our crew alive, barely by one. I laid him to rest on Barnacle Cay, his share buried deep alongside, his to take to the ferryman. As I sit with tankard full by Tina, I now call Ancient Spire home, and sure as this doubloon shines blue, when next we chase the horizon, I'll be watchin' fer her. She took me Captain, she took the ship, she took the crew, now, she's given me the fire Captain had to chase her. I'll be comin' fer revenge, Lassy. I'll be comin'.

  • Alone

    Light poked at my eyes as I started to open them. My head was resting on the side of the rowboat, my hand dragging in the water. I was in a row boat, stranded in the middle of The Wilds. The air was heavy and dense. It was late in the day and the sun was starting to set. Though the beauty of it wasn't enough to calm my startled soul, I found great comfort in feasting my eyes in such a beautiful sight. After some observance, I realized that the waters around me weren't empty. There were books, crates and other objects floating above the water. I looked over my shoulder and took a gander at the water's behind me. Pieces of debris and splinters of a once admired warship were now sprinkled across the Sea Of Thieves. The figurehead of a huntress bobbed up and down in the water. Then, like water rushing through the hull of a sinking ship, it came back to me. The memory of the night before. Blunderbuss shots and cannon fire echo throughout my mind. I remember hearing the bailing of water and the patching of holes. We were sailing back from the devils roar with cargo. We held the loot from an Athena's voyage. However we were being pursued by a galleon. Turning around and fighting was out of the question, we were low on supplies. Among having a gastly black ship they bared the reaper's mark flag. Every seaman who looks upon that flag knows he is facing a fight to the death. It was a race to the nearest outpost, which in this case, was Galleons Grave. However, the galleon was quickly gaining on us. After passing Lier’s Backbone we took sight of a storm. It's clouds mine as well been the smoke from the devils pipe. Perhaps we could lose them in the storm. One of my good friends by the name of Jay or JayLionJones loaded the canons in case of a fight. My other friend Goodt was on the wheel. “Into the storm!” We shouted! Goodt then pulled the wheel to port and in a matter of seconds we felt the power of the storm. Water ran down our beards and clothes, we were soaked. Like bullets from a flintlock the rain shot down on our sunburned faces. But the enemy ship did not change its course. Instead, they continued to pursue us. Knowing the ship would most likely not make it through the storm, Goodt told Jay to load the row boat with our treasure. The storm roared as the galleon grew closer to canon range. Goodt turned the ship to starboard and ordered us to fire. We unloaded six shots total to the bow of their ship. Then among the sounds of cannon fire, I looked to my left and what I saw sent a chill down my spine. There in the midst of the storm was the biggest rock I’d ever seen. “Rock!” I shouted. Goodt struggled to turn the ship to port. But what we had noticed, the galleon had not. They were heading straight for the rock. The enemy crew drew their ship closer to ours. They unloaded 4 shots into our hull and knocked Goodt off the wheel. The water quickly took control of our ship and swung her directly at the galleon. “Brace for impact!” Jay yelled. Both ships collided. One of the enemy pirates most likely noticed the gigantic rock by now, as their ship began to turn to starboard. But it was too late for them. The galleon collided with the rock like a bullet colliding with a boars head. The galleon moaned as it was slowly devoured by the raging sea. The last thing we saw of that ship was their dreaded flag sinking into the rushing waters. Some quick thinking pirates abandoned their ship and boarded ours. Only three of which managed to get off without being pulled under the sea. Their weapons were drawn and a fight was inevitable. Two leaped onto our ship and fired at us. Jay was quick to react. He pulled out his flintlock and sent bullets at the enemy pirates. One pirate climbed up our ladder and lifted his blunderbuss at Goodt. Goodt ducked behind the wheel and the shot sent splinters of wood into the air. Goodt unsheathed his cutlass and engaged in combat. An enemy pirate looked at me and swung his saber at my throat. I pulled out my cutlass and our blades met. He broke free and swung violently. Lifting up my sword I blocked every hit. He then began to tire and at that moment I ran him through. Goodt was holding his own but Jay was struggling to keep up with the other pirate. In an instant, he was slashed across the chest. He stumbled backwards and met the deck. The enemy pirate lifted his arm and pointed a flintlock at Jay ready to fire. Before he was able to, I swung my sword down and removed that man of his hand. He screamed and tumbled backwards on to the deck grasping his arm. Looking back I saw that Goodt had already taken care of the last corsair. Jay let out a scream of terror and pointed to port. A wave was rolling towards us. Like a bull it roared ready to take out anything in its path. Goodt told us to get in the rowboat, however the wounded Jay was unable to get up. I ran over to him and grabbed his hand. I tried to pull him into the rowboat but the wave had different plans. It smashed into the ship and sent Jay overboard. His hand slipping out of mine. Goodt then pulled me into the rowboat as waves covered the deck washing everything away. We cut the rope and the rowboat dropped with a splash into the raging waters. We closed our eyes and hugged the boards of the rowboat. The current then sent us rushing away into the open sea.

    When I woke feeling the urge to scream there was no sign of Goodt. He wasn't in the rowboat. I called his name, but there was no answer. My heart dropped when I realised, I was alone. I had been in the row boat for three days. Reading what books I found from the wreckage and eating what food remained in the rowboats storage. I hummed the tune to songs like Bosun Bill and We Shall Sail Together. But I quickly fell into a deep state of sorrow. Although I still had most the treasure on the rowboat, I had nowhere to turn it in. I spent what felt like hours laying on my back and staring at the sky. I had nothing but a pistol and a bullet. As I was considering meeting the Ferryman, something burned inside me. A feeling that won't let me give up. So I chose a different path. After falling in a deep sleep, my rowboat apparently washed up on the shore of a small island surrounded by huge rocks. After gathering what little strength I had, I managed to pull myself out of the rowboat. After stepping on the rough sand I fell to my knees and grasped the sand between my fingers. I crawled my way to the nearest barrel and began to inspect. My stomach groaned as I uncovered some bananas. I also had found a crate of rum lying next to the barrel. I opened one bottle and rolled over in the sand. Laying down on the beach I stared up at the cloudy sky. This climate had a depressing kind of feel to it. It wasn't sunny and full of light green trees like The Shores Of Plenty. The dark waves rolled against the shore, tickling my feet through my torn shoes. As my head began to wonder, the sand close to me began to shake and turn. Out of the ground unearthed a terrifying creature. This creature was a skeleton. Its bones dry and sandy. Its jaw unhinged with crooked teeth. It stared right into my soul with what was once eyes. More began to appear. Reaching their hand out of the sand. The moans and growls of what was once human haunted me. Although it wasn't my first time dealing with skeletons some had streaks of gold running down their bones. Gold chalices and other ornaments were stuck to their skulls and ribs. I wasn't going to be able to defeat the gold ones with just my sword. I need firepower. But I only have one bullet left. The first skeleton charged at me. Unlike the corsair I fought in the storm, its attack was more frantic and ruthless, this creature seemed to have no care for its own life. I easily overpowered it but two other skeletons raised their firearms and opened fire. I lunged behind a nearby rock and the bullets ricocheted off. As they began to reload I thrusted my sword and struck one back. I then swung at the golden one, but my sword bounced right off. The creature then pointed its flintlock at me and shot. I did my best to dodge but the bullet ran straight through my left shoulder. I trampled behind the rock for cover. Grasping the wound I ducked behind the rock. The cold dark water raised up to my ankles. I had to get back to my rowboat but there were too many skeletons. The ground to my left vibrated. A fifth skeleton unearthed carrying a gunpowder keg. I took the chance and ran for it across the beach to my boat. However my leap to freedom was cut short when bullets blasted through the sand. Crouching down I tumbled backwards behind a much smaller rock. Having less cover, my Sea Dog hat was shot off. It rolled into the crashing waves. The gunpowder skeleton then started to run past the other skeletons and toward me. I pulled out my flintlock pistol and loaded my only bullet. I aimed it at the gunpowder skeleton and pulled the trigger. KABOOM! A cloud of sand flew across the beach, the screaches of the fallen pirates echo throughout the small isle. When the cloud disappeared I saw nothing but a skulls and bones scattered across the beach. The fingertips and arms of these creatures were sticking up above the sand. I reached into my coat and pulled out one of the missions my crew and I were going to attempt before the run in with the galleon. As I suspected. A skeleton bounty. It was given to us by one of the order of souls convoys. This was the one of the islands that the skeleton missions were due. But if this was a contract to kill skeleton captains then that means more will spawn. Realizing I was standing on the isle of last words I knew I was close to Daggertooth Outpost. So I looked around the horizon and saw in the distance a huge island abundant with lights. That was my next location. I wasn't sticking around for more of those mindless creatures to come barging out of the ground, so I gathered what supplies I needed and set out on my next location, Daggertooth outpost!

    I was only about two brigantine lengths away from the Isle Of Last Words when a sloop came into view. My heart sank when I realized they were heading straight for me. The sloop then raised their sails and dropped anchor. One called down to me “That’s a lot of treasure you have there.” He was young, beardless and wearing a black dog coat and hat. The other was old and wearing a long torn up coat. He had an eye patch and a huge beard. They introduced themselves as Black Dog Dan and Crooked Cane. “Want us to take you to Daggertooth so you can sell all that stuff?” Crooked Cane laughed. I of course knew what was going on. They were planning on stealing my treasure and selling it. “No I can mana-” But before I was able to finish my sentence a bullet whizzed past my head. In an effort to escape incoming fire I rolled backwards of the row boat and into the cold water. I swam underneath their boat and grabbed ahold of their ladder. I quietly hoisted myself out of the water on the opposite side of their boat. I could hear the disgusting sounds of their laughter. They were loading the treasure into their sloop. I could tell they were feeling rather jolly about themselves. Little did they know this would be that last time they felt the mist of the sea on their faces. Anger consumed me, I wasn't going to let that treasure I earned fall into these bilge rats hands. I hung on the ladder just out of sight. After mounting my rowboat on the back of their ship they raised anchor and lowered sails. “To Daggertooth Outpost.” Crooked Cane said with a crack in his voice. The cold water tugged at my ankles as I held on to the bottom of the ladder. The outpost was in view. We were only about eight or nine brigantine lengths away before I pulled myself up the ladder and rolled onto the deck. Crooked Cane took sight of me and holared. “Here!, He’s Here!” Black Dog Dan let go of the helm and pulled out his blunderbuss. With the strength of a mad man I swung my cutlass and the blow knocked them both off balance. Crooked cane tumbled over on the deck. Black Dog Dan pointed his blunderbuss at me once again. With the speed of a striking snake I took my cutlass and directed his blunderbuss into the sky. The blunderbuss shot exploded into the air above us. He then dropped his firearm and unsheathed his cutlass. Our blades met. The clanking of metal ran through my ears as we each blocked the others attack. He was a much more skilled swordsman, but I had something he didn't. Fierce determination. I jumped up on the railing and leaped onto the lower deck. The two pirates then opened fire at me. With a slight limp I took cover behind the base of the mast. The bullets shredded through the sides of the mast just grazing my coat . As I began to hear them reload, I jumped to the side and with all the power the Pirate Lord has given me, I thrusted my sword at the deck and lunged toward them. I struck the one in black. Black Dog Dan tumbled backwards. The pirate crouched down as an amonous green glow began to consume him. As I let out a quick sigh, Crooked Cane pointed a flintlock at me. The bullet cut through the edges of my sea dog coat and penetrated the wood railing behind me. As he began to reload I dove for the blunderbuss the other pirate had dropped and lifted it up. I unloaded two shots of lead into Crooked Cane. The wounded pirates body went limp as he fell backwards into the rushing waters. Grabbing hold of the steering wheel I turned the ship back towards one of the rocks that surrounded the Isle Of Last Words. My hands slid off the wheel and landed on the ropes holding the rowboat to the back of the sloop. I leaped in and let the ropes go. The rowboat dropped into the passing water and the sloop continued. Lifting my head out of the rowboat I saw the sloop collide with the rock. Black and white flash throughout my tightly shut eyelids. I remember the storm. I remember the sound of my friends last words. Then I think of the island. The fallen pirates and what stories they held.

    After I thought I had lost all my strength my rowboat washed up on the shore of daggertooth outpost. My eyes opened and I was staring at sand. A little crab looked up at me before crawling down by the edge of the water. I was then greeted by two figures by the name of Carl and Horace. Horace was a Gold Hoarder so when I offered to trade in my treasure he didn't hesitate to accept. The loot was worth over sixteen thousand. I was able to buy some clothes from Carl. I bought a Rouge Sea Dog Jacket which I wore with great pride. With the help of Sandra at the shipwright, I was granted a sloop and Horace helped me get a head start on my next voyage. Before you could say “Pirate Legend” the sails were lowered and I was on my way to the George & Kraken. When I sailed the seas with Jay and Goodt this tavern was our particular favorite. There is a bartender there named Tracy who enjoys listening to Jay talk about our long tales about our adventures. But now that Jay and Goodt are gone, what will it be like now? No longer sailing the seas with my fellow crew mates. Jay is dead and I Assume Goodt is to. The remembrance of this was gut wrenching. It was as if the pirate lord himself slapped me across the face. But I remembered the rumors of the ferry of the damned. The ship that gives you a second chance. The ship that brings you back. If the legend is true, maybe I will see my friends across the waves once again. Maybe…

    Written and compiled by BearHeart Ben

  • The Drunkard, The Englishman, and The Fleet

    Captain C. Crasher, and his partner in plunder, Sneaky Ferris, had scheduled a battle with the notorious Crew of The Treacherous Bounty on the day of it's arrival. Castle Crasher, an American with the blood of his ancestors running through him, and Sneaky Ferris, a respectable, charming lad, and chill sailor on the Seas, from the United Kingdom of Tea and Crumpets! Yar har! While they are very different in some aspects, they still be a very dynamic duo, whom have sailed these seas for as long as they can remember. But alas, the duo had no luck in finding any present ships to assist them in their great assault against the Fleet of Captain Flameheart. But, they would not let this misstep halt their plans, and decided to give it a test run to see what these bag of bones were capable of. Upon approach, the Skeletal fleet rose from the depths, and unleashed their mighty fiery upon the two soon-to-be-Legends! Throughout the battle, the Sloop had run dry of supplies. Thus, they had to resort to ramming, boarding, barrel bombing and stealing their skeletal adversary's supplies. Sneaky Ferris dedicated everything to ensuring the ship stayed afloat. Needless to say, he may have grown a close relationship with his bucket that day. Captain Crasher was in charge of everything else, putting his skills to the test! Unfortunately, the Sloop's triumphant assault ended in failure, and slowly met it's watery grave.

    Now, ye may think this that's where our tale comes to a close, but I'm pleased to say it is not! Sneaky Ferris had swam onto a nearby rock, and being the brainless skellies they are, they went right for him, crashing straight into the rocks! Whilst Ferris kept 'em distracted, Captain Crasher returned to their vessel, and hurried off to save his mate, and continue their attack! As Captain Crasher returned, Ferris hopped aboard, and gave their all to take down these resilient numbskulls! The Captain of the fleet emerged spiteful and filled with rage, giving the Sloop every ball of cursed iron it had! But the skeleton stood no chance, their luck ran out, and their treachery came to an end! Captain Crasher dived below and brung the booty aboard while Sneaky Ferris was stuck on bailing duty again, and sailed off as fast as they could to a nearby island for supplies. With no planks, and the waves becoming overwhelming, it sunk their vessel once more. The two were in distraught, extremely paranoid of slimy bilge rats attempting to steal their well deserved haul. They scurried the loot out of the ocean and onto the island, Old Salts Atoll. Ferris watched over the treasure, and spent some more quality time with his bucket, as Captain Crasher retrieved the sloop one last time. He came back with no trouble, and helped load up the treasure, then set off to the outpost! The Duo celebrated their bittersweet victory, and had a celebratory grog! At least, Captain Crasher did, Sneaky Ferris was just dumbfounded that they had succeeded at all. Captain Crasher gave the ship's bell his signature ring as they arrived to the Outpost, turning in their fortune! Both the companies, and the duo were appeased by their new earnings. With their pockets full, and ship docked, they called it in for the night, and got some shut eye before starting a new voyage in the morning. Their tale will forever be remembered amongst their crew, and it will pay as a great reminder that anything is possible on the seas. Truly, it is a tale of Legends, Legends of the Sea of Thieves!

    #AthenasFortuneContest

    -By the Legendary, bloodthirsty drunkard, Captain C. Crasher!

  • Quartermasters Log #12
    3 days East of Lone Cove

    The seas calmed and the wind has settled on the Sea of Thieves today. The air felt crisp as the sun began rising over the horizon placing a warm blanket over the deck of our galleon. I believe it to be the start of the fall year as the heated sun for the past months had been replaced with colder winds. A few beams of light pierced through several bullet holes of the captain’s door as I write this.

    The Fortune Gambit, which we recently plundered from merchants and named by our captain, was being repaired by the crew. I can hear the hammering of planks below deck and the movement of barrels rolling across the floor. The battle damaged a few cannons and one of the masts had to be replaced. Overall, the damage was minimal compared to a time a few days back when we almost lost our boat the Mystic Huntress. I remember hearing the screams of our crew, the battering of the ship, and the roar coming from below the sea.

    It was a nightmare that began with curiosity at Sanctuary Outpost. In the tavern called the George & Kraken, a pirate from the Bilge Rats named Duke called our crew over for a few drinks and a story. I remember him talking about another pirate by the name of Merrick. Apparently, there were large infestations of sharks congregating throughout the Sea of Thieves and Merrick was the only person who knew why. I remember the scent of the grog-filled air when Duke sighed; his posture slumped forward staring at his mug telling us tales of a monstrosity. He stopped and chugged the last of his elixir and pointed us south to Shark Bait Cove, an island of lore and mystery about the cursed creature plaguing our sea.

    Our captain, eager for a challenge, began ordering our crew to gather material and weaponry. I remember his cocky smirk slightly covered by his singed black mustache from past combat suggested we make haste to Shark Bait Cove. Captain Michael, or Doom Seeker to his enemies, was a man always seeking danger. I remember the day I first met the maniac who fought his way through a horde of skeletons on an island for a weeping chest. His excitement matched in combat as I seen him clear the deck of a galleon without once visiting the ferryman. Truly his bravery and skills are no match and everyone on the crew felt good to call him captain. First mate, Joey was the tallest of us all and best at fastening the control of the sails. People on the seas know him as Jolly Joey and for good reasons. He once was held prisoner by the ferryman for his misdeeds in the living world. Ten years were spent toiling on the deck of the ferryman's ship until he tricked him during a game of Liars Dice. He never shared the details on the trick and questioning him about it would end with a laugh and an eerie grin.

    While the winds were being tamed on our boat, boatswain Bartley would be keeping track of our resources below deck. Her wide brim hat covered her muttering face when she ran numbers in her head. She was a mysterious lass since she mostly kept to herself throughout the day. Her value on board wasn’t due to her running numbers, but rather her fighting spirit. Captain Michael says she was able to handle herself against waves of skeleton crews on an island up until the skeleton leader showed up. Our captain had to jump in and save her before the leader set off a chain of explosion barrels almost killing both of them. Ever since Bartley has been an effective fighter against competitive pirates on the seas.

    As for me, I had a passion for secrets and listening to Duke made me feel spry as a young lad. I wanted this challenge in order to understand the secrets of the Sea of Thieves. I wanted to know what caused the sharks to become so aggressive and numerous. But my urge for lore isn’t what makes me essential to the crew; it was my knowledge of boat tactics during ship to ship combat. I was made quartermaster by our captain after multiple encounters at sea always making great maneuvers. I knew how to catch a sloop on a galleon going upwind and am able to analyze the enemy's decisions in sailing. Altogether, our crew was formidable but the challenge we faced ahead was something out of this world.

    It wasn’t long after we left Sanctuary that we passed Plunder Valley on its west. The sun was folding over the horizon and getting well into dawn before our captain pointed out Shark Bait Cove in the distance. We prompted to the front of the ship and stood behind the captain. I remember seeing lots of trees blanketing the horizon. The land was flat and almost leveled with a rocky coast and little pockets of sea poking into it. We were ordered to our stations as we approached and docked due west of the island near a campsite that was occupied by a single man. He appeared scrawny with black ink that lined throughout his arms with the art of a shark jaw on his chest. What made him distinct were his two missing legs replaced with pegs. His voice was rough and a beard so profoundly brown like the dirt of unearthed booty.

    He seemed bothered of our arrival and questioned our crew for showing up to these treacherous waters. Michael spoke for us and questioned the man for his name, his story, and about his missing legs. The scrawny man was indeed Merrick, but before we could get him to tell us his story he waved and warned us this challenge is not meant for weak minded pirates. I remember Captain Michael laughing and explaining to Merrick about several encounters we had already faced on the seas. In shock, Merrick agreed and spoke of three journals that would depict what happened to his crew, his ship, and his legs. He continued that those journals would be the key to get a bearing on where the creature was last spotted.

    We looked at each other and accepted the task as Merrick laughed and pointed us further into the island where he forgot his third journal. Then he passed on to each of us a tool called a Speaking Trumpet, which he urged would be needed to gather other ships for the battle ahead. We looked at each other in disapproval and questioned why we would need another boat but Merrick, being the merry man he was, laughed and scratched his head saying he had forgotten the reason but was sure he wrote it down.

    Pocketing the trumpets, we quickly drew swords and began cutting into thick brush towards the direction he had pointed. I remember hearing our footsteps grow faster as our excitement fueled the journey that lies ahead of us. It was only a few moments of trekking until we approached a small lake the size of a galleon at the center of this place and all sorts of life were occupying the deep water below. Just above it, at the center of the lake, was a large statue of what appeared to be a shark. I felt an eerie presence just gazing upon the statue as the first journal could be seen at the base of it.

    I remember him telling us later that night during our travel to the second journal what the first had written. It was a questionable tale about Merrick’s crew meeting with another band of pirates. They all played a merry song Merrick had picked up on one of his voyages, written by the ancient people who lived on the islands and that touched his heart. The journal went on to say when they were playing the song and could hear something hungry and roaring in the deep waters below. Michael finished the entry with a second passage noting Merricks last visit to the tavern at a shining place to charm the keeper there. Putting our heads together we knew whom to go talk to, Tina at the tavern of Golden Sands Outpost.

    Several nights passed bringing chilling winds over our galleon as it took several hours to collect all three journals and turn ship toward Shark Bait Cove. During the long travel, the crew practiced sword combat on the deck while Michael stayed in his quarters. I knew he was pondering the deadly journey that lay before us as I began to question it all. What was it that attacked Merrick’s crew and would it be worth fighting for at the end? Would we lose the crew, or our ship, or both? At the end of the day, it wasn't my decision but the captains alone where we would end up. I remember the crew feeling uneasy with this adventure as silence began filling the boat. Michael was different among all of us as he hid in his cabin. I remember the look of his face changing over the course of this adventure from a party drunk pirate to a poor old sailor watching paint dry. It was difficult to see him like this so I took the time to go into his quarters and ease him in making the right decision before we reached Shark Bait Cove.

    It was the fifth day since we sailed the seas in search of three books and the only missing piece to this challenge was getting a ship to ally with. Something that wasn’t easy to come by on the Sea of Thieves as most stories told at the tavern had alliances ending with betrayal. Most pirates would urge away from alliances to keep from sinking and meeting the ferryman. But after reading the story of Merrick through the journals, we knew an alliance had to be formed in order to summon the beast. I can still recall seeing the sails of a galleon approach us when we made landfall near Merrick and feeling the intensity of wanting to open fire as they approached. Apparently, Duke mentioned word of Merrick to other sailors as noted by the captain of the ship Golden Siren after he and Michael exchanged words over the Speaking Trumpet. I still remember the names of each crew member, Robinson their captain, Keelhaul Kinetic, Cutthroat Cootiez, and Chillin Cherpoo. We were all in accordance to set sail together to face the beast that lay below the waves. Merrick accepted the alliance and handed us another present. They were drums created from skeleton remains telling us a shanty needed to be played at the destination mentioned in the journals. We all stood around each other with drums at hand and learned the shanty from Merrick after a few minutes of practice. With the other crew following the beat we all felt ready for the task at hand and both ships dropped sails and ventured east.

    I remember we were at least a nautical mile west by southwest of Devil’s Ridge and the sea was beginning to get choppy, rocking our boat heavily. Our allied galleon parked safely to our port and everyone stood on the deck facing each other with drums readied in arms. I started playing the tune first since I had a better memory of every note to hit on the drum. The others on the Golden Siren followed and eventually we were all playing for a few moments until shanty was broken by a loud roar coming from below the white peaked waves. The monster breached the surface of the sea just footsteps from the Mystic Huntress without warning. The sheer size was equal if not bigger than our galleons and took shape of a bull shark. Two rows of teeth covered its mouth with each tooth the size of a man. Its two eyes on one side of the face pierced into our souls as it dipped back down. I remember hearing everyone scream in shock while the two captains ordered the crew to open fire.

    The monsters glowing dorsal fin pierced the waves and everyone ran to the cannons and opened fire. The fight grew difficult as the beast was accompanied by a tremendous rainstorm causing the ship to toss about. Several cannon shots would fly over the beasts dorsal but when cannonballs did hit, the creature would begin to charge toward the Golden Siren with its razor two-lined jaws. I could hear it slam into the port side of their boat and taking a bite out of the wood, rocking the ship toward ours. I remember seeing Bartley jumping overboard from the lower sail yard of our ship onto theirs with supplies in hand. I’d guess the other crew lost most of it during the several attacks of the creature’s bites. It wasn’t long before thunder met with beastly roars as the Golden Siren started to dive deeper into the water.

    With one last bite, the monster finally sank their boat as it spilled into the sea. The look on the other crew's face was distraught as Joey and Bartley jumped to the crews' rescue. Once on board, we supplied them with cannonballs and planks to fight and repair. This time all four cannons were in use and we opened fire with pistols and snipers following shots. Our boat was the last one standing and the creature began charging straight into us. Everybody fell on their backs from the impact as I watched Michael struggle to the cannon and fire the last shot. I could hear the squealing cry of defeat as the rest of us got back to our feet. There was only the sound of the rain pelting the deck as it began to settle and everyone was peeking over the side of the boat witnessing the size of the beast as it lay stunned in the water. The battle was over as cheers broke the sound of downpour from both us and our friendly allies.

    We returned to Shark Bait Cove later that day while playing the new shanty we learned and told Merrick the good news. Upon arrival, he wept for joy and thanked us for avenging his lost crew and as a reward, gave us his signature figurehead to remind us of what we had accomplished that day. There was a party back at the tavern here at Golden Sands outpost with that two peg pirate and our new pirate friends. Stories were told and drinks were spilled, dancing and laughter shook the place up. I looked over at Duke in the tavern with his big mouth in laughter and mug in his hand that the Sea of Thieves, though cursed as it is, was a special place. I recalled what a wise pirate once said; it was about the journey, not the destination. I can't wait to get back out there again for another adventure.

  • I based this history on adventures that I lived, some of the characters were based on people I found. Winning or not, I hope you all enjoy. English is not my native language, I did the best I could to translate and adapt this.


    Run, Honest, run!

    Headaches, weak body, blurred eyes. I woke up in a tavern. I felt as if i had drunk a lot last night. I do not know how I got there. Stuck on the table with a dagger was an ancient paper written "The Sea of Thieves" and lines pointing to the words "La Isla Mosquito". A map? Maybe. Next to it, there was a bag of coins and a banana. I grabbed everything I could and put it in my pockets.

    A barmaid is waiting for my order. A Mysterious Stranger with bright eyes stared at me. Voices in my head told me that I needed to check if my equipment was all there. Equipment? Okay, I had a lot of stuff with me, a bucket, musical instruments, a shovel, some guns, a sword, a lot. The voices also told me that I was hungry. That banana I've found came in handy.

    Two huge galleons were approaching. Anchored in the pier, a sloop. I was in a small village, a few shops around me, but I did not have any money. What's the use of finding a bag of coins without any gold?

    Pirates jumped from their galleons and ran from side to side with chests, boxes and skulls. One of them asked me if I was new and if I would not like to drink with them. I accepted. I met with all those pirates at the tavern after they delivered all his booty. We sat at the table and one of them said that the Captain would be there soon, he had gone to solve a something important.

    Many grogs later, a low and distorted voice echoed through the old woods of that tavern. It was the Captain, who had appeared from nowhere. He wore black clothes with gray details. A bright green jewel caught attention on the right side of his tricorn hat. The long coat covered almost his whole body, the jewels in his lapel that reflected the light made it look stately. A huge black beard with braids covered almost his entire face.
         "Ahoy Captain! I'm Greener, I'm new here." I said
         "They call me BlackDog, you'll sail on my Galleon to learn how things work here. This is TheHonest, my quartermaster. He's going to take your sloop. TheHonest, bring one more with you. I'll solve some problems. Collect some resources, soon I'll be there." BlackDog said, disappearing in front of everyone.

    TheHonest was a thin, cadaverous man. He wore a reddish goatee and hair tied in a ponytail. He had most of the clothes ripped, except for a red coat that looked been tailor-made.
         "Greener, put all ye find in the barrels. Don't forget to vote on the mission that BlackDog left." Said TheHonest, pointing to a Galleon with a shiny horn unicorn figurehead, black hull with drawn green bones and black glowing sails.
         "Aren't we going to wait BlackDog?" I asked.
         "He'd better come back before we sell everything. Hahaha!"
         "Ye'd better think twice before you sell without me." BlackDog said, suddenly appearing from inside his cabin. His shadow grew as his footsteps approached.
         "Calm down! It's a joke! Ye don't have to take everything so seriously!" TheHonest shrugged and expressed a mixture of disdain and fear.
         "I do."
         "Okay, okay! Let it be. Let's finish this Voyage soon, I want to sleep early today."

    Three ships side by side, no enemy was a match. Skeletons in their galleons were decimated in minutes. The booty grew fast. Between an enemy and other, the crew played music and danced. Among the crew gossip was common. Someone said BlackDog was been here since before the Kraken arrived and he is known in other lands as Founder and also Pioneer. I think this is a very important title.
         "Skeletons in the fort!" One of the crew member shouted.

    Without difficulty BlackDog, avoided the cannonballs and stopped the ship between the defense towers. Screams mingled with explosions and trumpets. The smell of gunpowder was strong. Ships that were planning to approach gave up when seeing our anchored ships. Ten, twenty, thirty skeletons. The crew wiped out everyone easily, even those who came in gold armor.
    The crew struggled from the outside, but TheHonest managed to lure the Skeletons' Captain inside the fort and gave the final attack.
         "I killed the captain! But there's no key!" TheHonest said.
         "It must be near where you killed him. Let's find that key!" BlackDog said.

    Time passed and no one found the key. With no hope, the crew decided to set sail to Devil's Roar.
         "I'll search again, I'm on a sloop, and against the wind I could reach ye!." TheHonest said.
         "Greener, go with him and help find that key." BlackDog said.

    After the galleons sailed, the water became dark and giant tentacles appeared. One of the galleons stayed between the tentacles, the other managed to escape and was returning to help.
         "Hey, Greener, I need to show ye something." TheHonest said, taking me into the sloop and pointing to the chests and the fort key.
         "But these are BlackDog's treasures! You stole them!"
         "My friend helped me, we stole when no one was watching. I also took the fort's key. We also took the cannonballs, planks, everything. I didn't want to share my treasure with those. Ye don't seem to be one of BlackDog's lackeys, so I showed ye."
         "If BlackDog suspects, I don't doubt he'll hunt you and..."
         "He'll find out. I don't care. It's time for someone to put BlackDog in his place. If ye are with me, we will be rich together. If it's not, I'll send ye to the Ferry of the Damned. What do ye think?"
         "I have any choice?"
         "No! I'll open the fort, let's get our gold!"

    The sloop was full, we set sail. It was possible to see both crews firing with with their guns at kraken's tentacles. TheHonest decided to get close and provoke BlackDog.
         "I have ye gold, we also take the gold from the fort! This is for ye to learn to be less despicable! Ye were so busy with the skeletons that ye did not even see that I stole everything from your ships!" TheHonest said with his megaphone.

    The blue Galleon was almost sinking. Kraken's tentacles were wrapped around his hull. TheHonest removed the alliance flag and dropped the sails. The blue Galleon was covered by salt water and what was left of its crew had already conformed to be devoured by the Kraken. BlackDog's Galleon turned in our direction and came at an impressive speed. But we were against the wind, the advantage was ours.

    Even with advantage, was hard to distance ourselves from BlackDog. Part of their crew was throwing himself with cannons on the islands, minutes later they reappeared on the ship as if they had used magic. Another part was in the bow trying to hit us with their Eye of Reach.
         "Damn! I've been hit! I'll go downstairs to heal myself, hold the steering wheel and don't let them hit ye. We cannot lose, not now!" - TheHonest said.

    BlackDog's Galleon was getting closer, TheHonest had not returned yet. I didn't know what to do. I spotted huge rocks and a small island in the center, seemed the best place for a maneuver. BlackDog's Galleon would not reach there, could get stuck or even sink. I turned my ship toward, adjusted the sails, and hoped that everything would be fine.
         "Greener, this won't work, BlackDog can get through here easily!" Said TheHonest, who had suddenly appeared behind me.
         "Where were you? I don't know how to drive this thing, why did it take so long?"
         "Calm down, I just went to use the bathroom, I did not take that long. I have a life out of here, ye know. Ye look like BlackDog talking like this!"

    TheHonest took the steering wheel and turned the ship in BlackDog direction.
         "BlackDog usually go sleep this time, he must be exhausted. But let's see... I have an idea! if we cannot sink them, we'll keep them busy. I think we can kill one or two of his crew members, or even himself. Wanna try?"
         "What do I have to do?"
         "When I give the signal, ye let the anchor go. As soon as it hits the bottom, ye get up as fast as ye can. I'll steer the ship and shoot them."

    I was prepared, but at the same time, afraid, I did not believe in our success.
         "One, two, three... Now!" TheHonest shouted as he swiveled the steering wheel to the center and jumped into the cannon. He fired five cannonballs at BlackDog's Galleon bow. We repeated this process a few times, but it did not seem to be working, the distance between us was getting shorter.
         "I'll try one last time! One, two, three ... Now!" TheHonest said as he held a bright purple cannon ball.

    I dropped the anchor as TheHonest gave the signal, at this same time the BlackDog's Galleon did the same, our shot hit them, but they also hit us four times.
         "Greener, get on that anchor!" I'll go downstairs to fix it, I've already left the boat in the right direction!

    As TheHonest came down and started ship repairs, two cannonballs hit our hull.
         "Come down here! Go take that water with ye bucket, I'm can't do it alone!"
         "But what about the ship?"
         "Let it go! I don't think it's going to hit anything, but if we get hit we can fix it! Better be hit than to take another BlackDog's shot!"

    It was not easy to repair the ship, there were many holes. Almost all of our resources were gone and we were exhausted.
         "Look at the map to see where we are!"
         "We're near a big island, Ruby's Fall, there's an outpost near us, we can..."
         "We've been hit!" TheHonest said, as a huge explosion made everything tremble on the deck.
         "What?"
         "A volcano! BlackDog will use this advantage to hunt us down. Let's get out of here, It's not safe for a sloop."

    BlackDog followed us as we sailed away from the volcanoes' flying stones. Every explosion, every tremor, everything made it harder to escape. Being against the wind was the blessing, we were slowly moving away from the BlackDog. In addition, sloop size gave advantage in shallow or narrow places.

    A storm was approaching, and we had no choice but to go through it. If we went back, we would be in the wind and BlackDog would catch us. The rain started to fall, the deck was getting wetter as we entered in the storm. I would take the water out with a bucket, but the water was never over. I didn't know what was stronger, whether it was the smell of wet wood or whether it was the noise of the ship, it looked like it would break.
         "Fix the holes down there, fast!" TheHonest said, just after the sound of shattered wood came from the bow.

    The ship swayed, but TheHonest could easily lead even in a storm. A sound of trumpets seemed to warn something. A galleon full of skeletons came from the bottom of the sea. They already seemed to know we were there, because they went straight to us. The Skeleton Ship's crew were firing in our direction. The storm had not ceased, we didn't know which direction we were going, the compass would not stop spinning and the steering wheel would not respond properly. The sails were set aside so we could get a better view of what lay ahead. The skeletons stood next to us, throwing green and purple cannonballs, we slept suddenly, we felt nauseated like we had spent the night in a tavern, we started dancing, that's was not funny. The holes in our ship increased, I was minding to repair and draw the water, but it was getting harder.
         "I'm going to invade them with the powder keg, get the wheel and try to keep our ship close! I'll be back soon!" TheHonest said, climbing the mast.

    He jumped off of our mast straight onto the deck and run inside of the skeleton's ship. An explosion threw their Galleon to the side. A few minutes passed and TheHonest appeared onto the deck.
         "They have water on the second floor, they're almost sinking. I killed many of them while they were trying to repair, these will not bother us anymore."

    The storm was slowing, the compass was returning to normal, and the sea were calmer. As soon as we got out of the storm a cannonball has been shot toward us, passing close to TheHonest's face.
         "Did you really think you could get rid of me?" Said BlackDog in his megaphone.

    BlackDog's Galleon had possibly circled the storm, I believe it was lucky to find us. BlackDog drew his gun and fired toward our Crow's Nest, a huge explosion made our sloop swing, he hit all our barrels of gunpowder, including what we pulled out of the fortress. BlackDog's Galleon clearly suffered damage as well, his ship moved away from ours by the explosion, both crews rushed to repair their ships.
         "Fog! Let's hide in the fog!" TheHonest shouted, running to the steering wheel and spinning it as fast as he could.

    The fog was getting thick, but it was not enough for BlackDog's ship stop following us. Gradually his Galleon was side by side, every single cannon he could spot at us was firing. TheHonest hit back by firing cannonballs, but instead of firing on the hull, he shoot at BlackDog's cannons, he wanted to kill his crewmates who fired at us. The shots in our direction were ceasing and TheHonest began to shoot the Galleon's hull. Meanwhile, a white megalodon surrounded the ships, seemed to be waiting for the right time to attack.
         "Greener, as soon as ye've finished fixing up, I need you to go to the steering wheel. Let's throw the ship against the wind and run away from them!" TheHonest said.

    I finished covering the last hole and removing the last bucket of water. As I looked to the starboard, trying to see where BlackDog was, a strong thud on our sloop made me fall into the water. I thought I was going to die there. The sloop suddenly stopped, it seems TheHonest had released the anchor to wait for me. I swam as fast as I could to the stairs and started to climb.
         "Thanks TheHonest, I swear you would not wait for me, I thought you'd leave me here to di..."
         "Don't move!" Said an unknown pirate pointing his blunderbuss at me.

    TheHonest was sitting with two pirates pointing their blunderbuss at his head, another pirate was raising the sails. BlackDog's galleon stopped by our side and his crew came to our ship. The pirate I met when I woke up came, drew his pistol and pointed it towards me.
         "I should have killed you. If I knew you were going to join him, I would never have called you to drink with me!"
         "But he threatened me, said he would send me to Ferry of the Damned and..."
         "Shut Up!" Said BlackDog.

    BlackDog walked to TheHonest's front while his crew surrounded and pointed his guns to him.
         "I trusted you, You became my quartermaster, you are a legend because I did this to you. When everyone denied you, I stayed by your side." BlackDog said pointing at TheHonest face.

    TheHonest, even surrounded and helpless, didn't seem concerned with so many guns pointed at his head.
         "But I have to confess one thing, you two were the first to give me some work, the first to challenge me and stay alive for so long. Therefore, TheHonest, I will give you a choice. You can run away and never come back, if I meet you again in these seas, I'll send you to the sharks. Or you can duel with me, if you win, you'll leave and take all the gold, if you lose, you'll have to leave these seas forever."

    TheHonest laughed as if BlackDog had told a joke. He seemed to be very happy.
         "Of course I choose the duel! What I wanted most was to finish you off and get the gold so will be even better!"
         "We'll fight with swords. Crew, clear the deck!"

    BlackDog's crew pulled away. TheHonest and BlackDog drew their swords and began to study each other's movements. TheHonest attacked without stopping, but BlackDog defended without any problem. TheHonest seemed desperate to strike and end that fight.
         "That's it? I expected more from you. I thought that one day you could sail as a captain, by my side, but it seems you still need to learn more." BlackDog said as he defended three attacks and hit TheHonest in the chest.

    BlackDog seemed to be joking, TheHonest could not do a single hit, which always retaliated with weak attacks. TheHonest drew his pistol and fired hitting his arm. His crew pulled out their pistols and pointed in TheHonest direction.
         "Don't shoot!" BlackDog said, raising his sword and delivering a swift and accurate attack in TheHonest. TheHonest fell to the floor, a green light wrapped around him and made him disappear.
         "Now you all know what happens to me who defies me."

    BlackDog came toward me, put his hands on the shoulders of the pirates who were facing the ladder and pushed them away.
         "I'll keep an eye on Greener. Pick everything up and put them in the rowboat. If TheHonest shows up, send him back to Ferry of the Damned. Don't forget to kill the megalodon. And you, Greener, what do you have to say?"
         "I didn't mean it, he pointed a gun to my head and said that if I didn't help him he would send me to the Ferr..."
         "To Ferry of the Damned? Really?" BlackDog interrupted me, and he didn't stop laughing.
         "Yes, I didn't want to di..."
         "You don't want to die? This keeps getting better!" BlackDog interrupted me again, laughing even more.
         "I bet even you're afraid of dying!"
         "Greener, don't play as dumb. We cannot die here. Do you really want me to believe that all this time you haven't died? Not even the most experienced pirate could do it!"
         "I just avoided the dangers, I ate bananas all the time and..."
         "Bananas? All you did was run away and eat bananas?" BlackDog said, laughing and applauding the situation.
         "Let's suppose I believe in you, what do you think I should do?" BlackDog said, putting the gun away.
         "You must let me go, I didn't steal anything from you, just follow what TheHonest said."
         "Honey, it's late, we'll wake up early tomorrow. Come to bed." BlackDog said, still in a thick, distorted voice, but in a slightly different tone.
         "What? BlackDog?"
         "One minute! I'm almost done." BlackDog said with the previous tone, but this time, with tenderness in his voice.
         "Sorry, my husband was talking to me, I didn't hear what you said, can you repeat?"
         "I can't understand..."
         "Never mind. Today I'm in a good mood. I admire your skills and so I'll show you something cool. Want to see?"
         "Of course!"
         "I'll show you how to get on the Ferry of the Damned! Goodbye, Greener!" BlackDog said, pulling out his blunderbuss and firing it at my face.

    Everything darkened, I felt my body falling, It was cold, and I knew that this cold was not from the water. I'm not ready for the Ferry of the Damned. I'll quit now. It was fun, I hope tomorrow's adventure is as good as it is.

  • @khaleesibot

    “The Old Gran and The Sea” or “The Worst Thieves on the Sea”

    To sail upon the sea is to know her intimately. A playful wave, a fickle breeze, a vengeful storm, they all speak of her person. Any sailor worth his gunpowder will tell you that the sea has a spirit all its own, though not all have seen her truest nature. I, Captain Cayde, have seen her in flesh and blood, with wild, grog-soaked eyes and toothless snarl as she leaps from a crow’s nest carrying naught but a powder keg and steel.

    I call her Gran.

    When first arriving in the Sea of Thieves, I was greeted by the warm sands in the Shores of Plenty. After an afternoon spent exploring the surrounding islands and meeting the exceedingly hostile natives, I dropped anchor at Sanctuary to nurse my battered body and a full mug of grog. I felt that I had accomplished little and the dreams of fortune and fame that brought me to the legendary locale felt caught within the Devil’s Shroud. In the distance, I heard the hearty laugh of thunder, so I wandered out to the sand to watch the magnificence of a storm on the sea.

    “So that’s how it is, is it?!” came the cry that woke me from my unintended slumber. I cleared the sand from my eyes to see an elderly woman dressed in rags. She was kicking at the waves and shouting at the sky, raving at some unseen antagonist. “You think you can push me around?! No one pushes me around!”

    “Excuse me, ma'am,” I said, “but who are you shouting at?” I rose and cautiously approached filled with caution and curiosity, often a dangerous combination.
    “Who?” she said, snapping around to face me. “I am shouting at the soggy, good-for-nothing lousebeard that sent me washing up on this beach.” She came closer. Stopped. Looked at me through furrowed eyes. Then stepped uncomfortably closer. “Are you the deviled lousebeard that brought me here?” Her breath was a rancid stew of ocean and alcohol.

    “N-n-no,” was the only reply I could choke out. “As y-you can s-s-see, I h-haven’t the b-beard for a louse.” I desired nothing more than to remove myself from wretched madwoman but I was frozen as if my very being had been turned to stone.

    She broke her gaze and let loose a fearsome laugh. “Well, that is a good thing for you. I’d have to end you right here on this cozy beach.” She patted her foot a few times against the sand where my body had laid only moments ago before this bewildering encounter. “Looks like a decent place to spend the rest of the night,” she said, lying herself down in the rut I left behind. “You’d better get some rest. We’ll have quite the day tomorrow.” Before I could object to such a statement, she had already begun to snore.

    It would be dishonest to not mention how I was tempted to leave her there in her nest of sand and sail as far away as the sea would allow, challenging even the Shroud to be freed from such a potential folly. It was only as I looked upon her resting, yet flatulent, image when I felt a sort of compassion for the senile coot. Perhaps Fate had delivered this woman to my care so that I may help her find some kind of normal life out on the sea.
    Considering myself to be a man of rather refine tastes, albeit still built for the life of adventure, I found a suitable spot beneath a nearby tree and dreamt of what terrors might await us the coming morn.

    That was so many months ago, and I have made so many attempts to help Gran find the reformation she is so in need of, yet the odds are ever stacked against me. Her figure has even begun to take on the jagged form of her personality.
    One leg has been replaced by a peg, leaving the former half behind in a half-baked, fully-gran gunpowder plot from an assault on a skeleton fort. She swears that the captain was her third ex-husband and that she had to lay him to rest once more. I did not inquire of the first account as to avoid the chance of guilt upon my conscience.

    A board with a nail, or hook as Gran calls it, has replaced her perfectly knobby hand. She insisted that the megalodon was actually her long lost pet and was following us out of renewed faithfulness. As he drew nearer, she reached out to pet him in hopes of affirming his good behavior. I believe it unnecessary to explain what occurred next.

    We were ambushed at Golden Sands when attempting to deliver our hard-earned plunder to the proper parties. While we were unable to avoid the loss of our goods, Gran was unable to avoid the loss of her eye. It was another crew who was responsible for the fashionable patch Gran now wears. Needless to say, she insisted we needed to find them on the seas and deliver to them one of her “Gran Specials.” As she leaped from the crow’s nest onto their ship, the sound of the powder keg hissing like a caged cobra, I could hear her cry something about an eye for an eye. When returning from the Ferry, she muttered the usual “Lousebeard” and insisted she had scorned him after her fourth ex-husband.

    Finally, it was in the defense of the Sea of Thieves during the great scourge of the Skeleton Fleets when I first began to more deeply question Gran’s origin and whether her feverish tales held more water than the bilge. Banding together with several ships, we fought the skeleton menace in every corner of the seas. It was when Gran had carried out yet another “Gran Special” that I noticed peculiar markings beginning to form across her usually exposed body. These could only be described as “fish-like,” taking on the appearance of scales and even a fin along her spine. In the presence of Gran, it is clear that far more questions arise than answers.

    By now you must see as well as I that my personal vow to help change Gran into a better citizen of the seas may have been made in haste. Little did I know she was an unruly force of nature, unpredictable in everything except in her unpredictability. Every time I encouraged some form of civility, she seemed insistent that she was loved by all and feared by the same. I am unsure of whether or not I would consider this to be positive, but it is clear that Gran most certainly does. And so, with an empty tankard in hand, I told Gran that she could decide on what we needed to do next.

    “Ah, finally deciding to trust in your dear, ol’ Gran, I see,” she said. “I would like to tell you that it took you long enough, but we both know that, eventually, you were going to break.” She sat back after downing another mug of grog. She hummed her usual tune about herself and the love of the Kraken as she contemplated the many nefarious deeds she had been restricted from carrying out over the past months.

    “I know just what we need to do,” she said with a gummy grin.
    “And we are going to do it for you.”

    “For me?” I asked, jabbing a thumb into the buckle across my chest. “What do you need to do for me? I happen to be the NORMAL one in this crew.”

    “Exactly!” she spat. “You think of that as a good thing, but I say it is exactly what is always holding you back. You need to embrace a bolt of lightning. Shoot yourself out of a cannon and slam face first into a rock covered with smeared tribal nonsense. Drink your grog UNDERWATER.” She slammed down her fist. “You are going to steal something!”

    I snickered. “You want me to steal? It is easier to just dig up a chest than murder someone for theirs.” I rose to my feet and unintentionally mimicked the dance of a seaweed. “Why go through unnecessary trouble?”

    “Because,” whispered Gran, “this is called the Sea of Thieves.” She stood and grabbed hold of my arm, her strength betraying her stature. “It is time you stop acting like a privateer and start thinking like a pirateer!” She pulled me to the doorway, yanking her pegleg from a hole in the floorboards. “Now, you have to listen to me this time. You said so yourself.”

    With that, she dragged out of the comfort of the Drowned Rat and down to the docks. I readied my concertina. There Gran and I played as the Unsinkable Lion slowly dropped into its watery grave. And now, without a boat or an ounce of good sense, we planned out our ambush, for whoever chose to visit Plunder Outpost that day would find themselves the victim of its namesake.

    “Where should we hide?” I asked Gran, who had far greater knowledge of such ventures.

    “Somewhere you won’t be seen.”

    “Yes. That much I understand. But where would be the best spot?” If I was going to give my first attempt at real pirating, I wanted to ensure it would be a successful one.
    Gran pointed to the bushes near a ramp leading off of the dock. “Go over there. Hide in those bushes while I keep watch for a ship.” I began making my way down to the designated flora when I heard a scream from behind.

    “Woohoo! We have some prey in our sights!” Gran began to dance an unsightly jig at the promise of ill-gotten treasure like the slapping tentacles of a hungry Kraken. “They have docked at the island right across from us. No time at all now, Cap’n, and we’ll have your hands tainted with proper blood money.”

    I sighed at the thought of sullying my hard-earned reputation as a fair sailor, yet a knot began to form at the very bottom of my bowels. At first, I believed myself to be sick at the thought of waylaying a potentially innocent crew, knowing a proper apology would be needed after the deed to see things once more made right. But the more the knot formed, the more I thought it felt more akin to excitement. Could it be that Gran had been slowly influencing me more than any of my dead efforts to influence her? The thought filled me with sudden dread.

    “They sure are taking their sweet ol’ time finding whatever treasure it is we will be stealing from them,” Gran grunted. “Perhaps I should start swimming over to their ship.”

    “You’re staying right here with me,” I objected. “This was your plan and you are going to stick to it. I will have none of your usual running off.” I could hear a far-off huff and some incoherent mumbling that was certain to be unladylike. It had indeed been too long for anyone to keep waiting in the bushes so I decided to help Gran by finding a better vantage point. After all, if I was to kill for gold, I wanted to know who my blade was to strike.

    I scurried through the underbrush and found a way to climb up on a nearby rooftop. In less time than it would take to fire Gran out of a cannon, I had made my way up with a spyglass in hand. I peered through the lens and saw a sloop anchored at the nearby island. Sure enough, no one could be seen and it was dressed plainly, much like we settled to keep our own. This hinted at the potential for easy prey, growing my know ever more.

    “I wonder where gran is hiding?” I asked aloud. A shriek rang out

    “What are you trying to do? Get an old lady to soil her dirty girdle?” I, too, let out a shout as I found I had made my way onto the same rooftop that Gran had already chosen to occupy. Neither she nor I had realized we stood beside one another!

    “A fine team of ambushers we make,” I said. I looked back at the ship. “They really are taking a long time on that island. Maybe we should help them.”

    “Maybe we should help them,” Gran mocked. “No. We wait here.” She tapped the end of her spyglass against her stumpy chin. “Maybe we should get their attention. Just to see what happens.” I nodded and began jumping up and down.

    “Like this, Gran?”

    “Seems about right.”

    So there we were, jumping and shouting at a still unmoving boat. The sun had gone and returned, unlike the anticipation of our scheme. We began discussing the merit of a change in plans and agreed that, at this point, it would be a good idea to send someone over to the island to scout things out.

    “Do you not remember that you had us scuttle our boat,” I asked. “We have no way to reach the other island.”

    “Cap’n, you small minded man. You don’t need a boat. “ Gran hook pointed at her arm. “All you need is a pair of these!”

    I shook my head. “You are not going to swim.”

    “I am.”

    “Well,” I said as I pulled my hat over my eyes, “you best get going.”

    “Too, right, indeed!” Gran plunged off of the back of the roof and, for a moment, it seemed as if she had been suspended in the air. I watched, perplexed at this new oddity of hers when suddenly she vanished completely.

    “By Poseidon's beard!” I exclaimed, unsure of what happened or what to do next. I frantically searched for any sign of Gran and found nothing. Without another thought, I looked back to the island to see if she had somehow made her way out to sea. The knot in my stomach returned, tripling in size as I saw our prey raise anchor and aim for the outpost. It was then I remembered the shark’s tooth that Gran had claimed was enchanted, sticking it into my ear.

    “Gran? Gran, can you hear me?” I waited, expecting nothing in return. What happened left me in disbelief.

    “Yeah, yeah. I hear you, Cap’n. You see? It works just like I told you it would.”

    “What happened?” I asked. “Where did you go?”

    “Well, I fell on a rock, seemed to black out for a minute, and I was back on our boat.” I heard the sound of rustling paper. “From the look of it, the boat is not far from the outpost.”
    I sighed. “Thank goodness. The boat just started moving!”

    “What?! Are you pulling my pegleg?”

    “No. I knew as soon as you left it would happen. What are we going to do now?” I felt myself begin to panic at the thought of carrying out the plan myself.

    “Just stay calm and let Gran be Gran,” she said. “Where is the boat headed? Towards the outpost?”

    “Yes, it is headed here now.”

    “I will head there and try to cut him off. I will run into his ship and act drunk. I am convincing at that.”

    “Yes…”

    “Then I will tell him I forgot my ship insurance and while he is waiting for me to find it, you come up, stab him in the back, and we steal his booty!”

    “In the back?”

    “Yep. Right through the back. Surprises them every time.” She cackled. “I can see the outpost now. I will drink a mug real quick to be authentic.”

    I readied my sword and laid in wait, watching as the sloop closed the distance to our trap. My breath became more labored as the knot grew tighter and tighter, pushing its way into my chest. I was finally ready.

    It was then I saw the ship cut away from the awaiting dock.

    “No. No. No. Did he see me? He saw me and is trying to cut me off by coming to the back side of the island,” I cried to Gran over the enchanted shark’s tooth. “I can’t say any more. I am going to attack and don’t want him to hear me coming!” I shoved the tooth into my pocket and raced through the jungle brush to the ship as it cut into the back of the island. All of a sudden the ship slammed into the reef and I was climbing the ladder to the deck.

    No one was there. I raced below deck, sword in hand, and found the ship deserted. In fact, the ship was empty of treasure as well. The only thing filling the ship at that moment was the water pouring through the hole caused by the reef.

    “Perhaps the sailor indeed saw me and swam his treasure to shore,” I said to myself. “Well, I will patch his boat and act like I am trying to be helpful.” I took a plank and began patching the hole. “He doesn’t have to know that-“

    “Cap’n?” came Gran’s voice from behind me. “Why are you patching our ship?”

    “Our ship?” I asked. “I watched the sloop sail this way. Where did he go? He should be right here.”

    Gran stood with a look on her face that I had never seen before. Her eyes grew wider, followed by her toothless smile.

    “Cap’n! It was us!” she cried.

    “Who was?”

    “The poor sailors we were waiting to ambush. They are US. It was OUR ship at that island.”

    “No. No, that can’t be-“

    “It is!” Gran laughed. “We sank our ship, but the sea spat it out nearby. There were never any other pirates. We were trying to get our own attention!” Gran was now rolling on the wet wood of the bilge, tears pouring from her eyes. “It was us the whole time. I was sailing to our ambush…”

    It was then I realized I had never seen her laugh like that before and soon I had joined in.

    “We are the worst thieves ever.”

    *This is all based on true accounts of LongLiveCayde6 and xJ DENTONx . Gran is the centerpiece of many of our adventures.

  • #AthenasFortuneContest
    THE TIMID TELL NO TALES

    I do not recall how I came to be here. My earliest memory is awaking beneath waves with my lungs filling with sea water. I frantically paddled to the surface, gasping for air amid a storm, and struggled to keep myself above the waves that threatened to submerge me again. I was alone. I cried out for help, and that is when I noticed that the voice I called with was not my own. I looked at my hands and saw that these scars, tattoos and clothes were not my own. It was then clear to me that this was not the world that I had known.

    I had begun to succumb panic and feared losing consciousness, but then a loud bubbling sound pulled me from my stupor. When I turned around I saw the stern of a large ship sink into the water and, hidden behind it, was a small rowboat that was revealed to me as the broken ship was lost to the bottom of the sea. The sight of the feeble boat invigorated my exhausted limbs and I swam towards it, fighting against the waves the entire way. When I reached it, I pulled myself aboard and collapsed in the bottom of the boat. There I waited for the burning in my muscles to subside and let the rain wash the saltwater from my face.

    The night grew darker and the storm had past. The gentle swishing of the waves lulled me into brief periods of sleep. I could have slept there for the rest of the night, but I knew I could not stay adrift at sea. I arose from the bottom of the boat and, far in the distance, I saw a scattering of lights that hinted at a settlement. My heart raced with excitement. I fumbled around the boat but could not find the oars. I extended my search to the surrounding water and noticed a cluster of debris bobbing on the surface. It must have floated up from the sunken ship, but it was well out of reach. I would have to swim to it. I hesitated. It was so dark, and I feared I would never find my way back to the rowboat. But I realised that it might be the only chance I had to save myself. I had to take the risk, so again I entered the tropical sea and eventually made my way to the debris. I sifted through the clutter of wooden planks and empty crates. Finally, I found the oars. Along with them were two chests. They were clad with gold and adorned with rubies which captured the moonlight and twinkled. I was captivated. I decided that I would bring these chests with me. If the inhabitants of the settlement were hostile, I hoped to use these chests to bargain for my life. I paired the oars together in my hands and used them to push the chests along as I swam in the direction from which I came. I could barely make out the silhouette of the rowboat under the night sky.

    I arrived at the safety of the boat with the chests and both oars. While treading water, I slung the oars aboard and hoisted one heavy chest up and into the boat. It fell into the boat with a thud and I could hear the contents jingle inside as it rolled. Then, as I fastened my grip on the second chest, I felt a wave push against my back. And another just below my feet. I paused. The sea was quiet. Suddenly, tearing out of the still water was a shark! The jagged-toothed beast lunged at me with its mouth agape and caught the corner of the chest I was holding, spinning me around. I frantically scrambled onto the rowboat and clung to the seat. The floating chest would become the sole target of the monster’s fury. I watched the shark’s fin slice through the mirror-like sea surface towards the boat and again it lunged at the chest, forcing it into the portside of the rowboat. The boat rocked violently, and the oars started to roll towards the edge. I leapt for them and nearly fell back into the shark’s territory. Frozen with fear and still clutching the oars, I quietly waited.

    Before too long, the unsatiated beast departed to resume its hunt elsewhere. By this time the sunlight had tinted the horizon with a soft blue and orange. I lowered an oar into the water and was startled when it bumped against something solid. Nervously, I peered over the side and saw the second chest still floating there. I reached for it and managed to heave it into the rowboat. In my weakened state, fuelled by desperation, I rowed the rickety boat to the distant settlement.

    After several hours of rowing I neared the shoreline. I pulled on the oars one last time and let the bow of the rowboat to dig into the loose sand of the beach. My knuckles ached as I opened my fingers away from the oars, and for the first time since I had started rowing I examined the blisters that had formed on the palms of my hands. Then I heard hammering coming from the dock above me. I called out to the source of the noise, but my voice made no sound. My throat had become too dry in the sea air. I eased myself out of the rowboat and clambered up to the dock where a woman ceased the hammering and hurried toward me with concern. Again, I tried to speak but produced nothing but a cough. She quickly retrieved a cup and held it to my lips. I took a swig of the drink and it immediately stung my throat. Foul stuff, but it quenched my thirst and enabled my speech. Quivering as I spoke, I explained my ordeal as she listened with bewilderment.

    Afterwards, I took a moment to rest on the dock and continued to sip at the drink that was given to me. It helped me relax. I struggled to deny sleep and at one point my entire body jolted just as I had begun to slump over. As I did, another woman huffed at me, assuming I was drunk. When I explained myself, she pretentiously pointed to the chests in my rowboat then asked why I hadn’t spent the gold on a bed at the tavern. I told her I didn’t have the keys, so she directed me to a green tent on the island, not far from the dock. I shambled down to the rowboat and started to drag the chests away from the beach, and when I was within sight of the tent, a man emerged from it and introduced himself. His interest in obtaining the treasure was immediately apparent. He rambled on about the chests as he haggled their worth in gold, noting the shark bite in one of them. I was without the energy for negotiating and I was never lucky with bargains. I readily accepted a small bag of gold and I made my way to the tavern where a pleasant barkeep, for a small fee, refilled my cup and provided me with a room to get some sleep.

    As the sun lowered, the tavern activity heightened, and the racket of rowdy sailors drew me from my slumber. Not one for mingling, I decided to slip away and take a stroll in the quiet outdoors while I pondered my predicament. Who am I? What is this place? I found myself occasionally distracted by the dilapidated shops which were all closed except for one. I followed the sandy path up the hill towards the small, eerie hut. Against my cautious nature, I approached the purple canopy and peered inside. In there stood a woman, surrounded by skulls and veiled in a glowing, green haze. She noticed me before I could turn away and motioned for me to enter. I made my way through the entrance and had begun to apologise for snooping about, but I halted as I got closer and saw that her eyes were as black as onyx.

    ‘The sea brings you to me,’ she spoke slowly with quiet voice, ‘it knows who you are.’

    I stood frozen in place. Terrified. She picked up a tattered scroll and held it towards me. I began to back towards the door, but she abruptly stepped forward. I gasped, accepted the scroll with a trembling hand and quickly fled back to the tavern. A tankard of grog and a tavern full of rowdy sailors suited me just fine after that.

    The next day, I woke up on a boat feeling terribly ill. It felt as though all the power of the sun pierced my eyes, and the sound of the shipwright’s work split my skull as if it were my own head under the hammer. I was alone on the small ship, curled up beneath a table where I found the scroll opened next to a map that had an island circled in ink. I made my way to the back of the ship and hung my head out the window to spill the soured contents of my stomach. My heaving attracted the attention of those nearby, and the shipwright called out,

    ‘Ay! Don’t spoil that ship. Ye don’t own it yet.’

    Apparently, I had given all my gold to the shipwright as partial payment for a sloop with the promise of paying her the rest once I collected the bounty described in the scroll. Before the shipwright could return to her work, I asked her for one last favour: a lesson on how to sail a ship.

    The shipwright’s overwhelming instructions almost immediately began to elude my memory. Nevertheless, I hoisted the anchor and the sloop began to sway in the changing tide. I pulled on the rope to lower the sail. Nothing happened. I tried another rope. Nothing. Frustrated, I yanked on every other rope I could see until the sail finally dropped. I stood there, grinning. A proud sailor. The sail suddenly caught a gust of wind that sent my sloop spearing through the waves, knocking me off my balance and onto the deck. I scurried up the helm and corrected my course for Northeast. The weather was forgiving to novice sailors that day and I could see my destination far in the distance.

    I was at peace while sailing. Occasionally, I would close my eyes, breathe deeply and enjoy the scents and sounds of the sea. At one point, I submitted to an enchanting reverie about sailing the sea for the rest of my life. A better sailor would have paid more attention to sailing. I was fast approaching the island and I could not identify the ropes to raise the sails. Before it was too late, I lowered the anchor. The sloop creaked and groaned as it came an abrupt halt, and I was hurled across the deck. I surveyed the ship to ensure it was still intact, then went below deck to review my objectives. I would have to execute the skeleton described in the scroll and bring his skull back to the woman in the purple tent so that she could extract its secrets about who I am. I equipped myself with a flintlock pistol and rusty cutlass. Although I didn’t know who I was, I felt certain that I had never handled a weapon before. But at that moment, the desire to learn about my past exceeded my fear of future perils. I fastened the sword to my belt, climbed down the ship’s ladder and swam to the beach.

    I wandered the beach until I heard a faint chatter. As I followed the sound, it grew louder and louder, like music to the sound of impending doom. I traced the noise to a cave that ran deep into the rock. With my back tight to the wall, I peered into the cave and saw the skeleton captain and six of his crew huddled together in the safety of their underground lair. I was outnumbered, but perhaps not outsmarted. I drew my pistol and fired a shot into cave then leapt into a nearby bush to hide. The skeleton crew rushed to the entrance of the cave with their weapons drawn. They did not see me. The skeleton captain motioned to his crew to search the island as he retreated into the cave. My plan worked, I had isolated the captain. I quietly reloaded my pistol. I would need to execute the captain and retrieve the skull before the rest of the crew had time to return.

    When the crew were out of sight, I snuck into the mouth of the cave but could not see the skeleton captain. I paused to listen. It was silent, but I noticed the shadows on the cave floor had begun to shift. I turned around and there was the captain with his cutlass raised to my head! I swung around to aim my pistol, but he swiftly slashed it out of my hand with such force that it was sent flying out of the entrance of the cave. Again, he swung the sword at me and I dropped to the ground to evade the attack. I rolled over onto my back and drew my cutlass just in time to intercept another swing from the skeleton. My sword was all that was between me and the skeleton’s blade. I tried to push him back, but I could not overcome his strength. Sensing his victory, the skeleton captain leaned in close to me and said in a hoarse whisper,

    ‘Rest in peace, lost soul.’

    The sword’s edge was within inches of my neck when the rest the skeleton crew returned and was making their way through the cave. One of them was carrying a red, branded barrel that I immediately recognised as gunpowder. I felt a surge of panic and kicked at the skeleton captain’s legs, knocking him off his feet. I jumped up, fled towards the mouth of the cave, dove past the skeleton crew and scrambled to where my pistol had landed. With no time to spare, I spun around and fired a shot at the gunpowder barrel. Hit! Pure luck. The cave breathed fire as the explosion decimated the skeleton captain and his crew.

    My ears were still ringing when the smoke dissipated enough for me to re-enter the cave. I waded through the swirling, gray haze until I saw the glowing, green prize I was after; the skeleton captain’s skull. Just as I picked up the skull, I heard cannon fire coming from outside. I bolted from the cave in time to watch my sloop sink into the sea. I stood stunned and was seized by two pirates that seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere. They took my prize and dragged me aboard their behemoth of a ship where I was greeted by the captain. One of the crew excitedly presented the skull to him. The captain accepted the skull with little interest, but when he sensed my uneasiness, he laughed at me and threw it overboard. I furiously thrashed about and was ordered to the brig.

    Moments later, the captain descended the stairs, leaned on a nearby wooden barrel and began to peel a fruit with a dagger. He glared at me and I could sense that he was waiting for me to beg for freedom, but I averted my eyes from him and caught a glance of a pile of chests in doing so. The captain noticed me staring at the pile of treasure and asked,

    ‘Are ye fixin’ to take me gold, scallywag?’

    I did not reply. Instead, I turned my gaze from the treasure and boldly eyed the captain.

    ‘Take from me, will ye?’ he continued, ‘Well, now. Ye’ll learn how it is to have somethin’ precious taken from ye.’

    The captain dropped the fruit and I watched as it rolled past my cell. When I faced him again, he had raised his dagger to me. I will spare you from the gory details, but that’s how I lost my left eye.

    My injury had weakened me into unconsciousness until I was jarred awake by sound of hollering and cannon fire. The lower deck had begun to fill with water and I was still trapped. I feared that it was the end for me. A group of pirates that I did not recognise rushed down the stairs. They swept past my cell and had begun to move the treasure off the ship. The pile of gold dwindled away, and I was soon left treading water. I uttered one last cry for help as the water reached the ceiling, but there was no answer. I accepted my demise, closed my eye and drifted into a sleep.

    But I did not perish. Instead, I woke up in a tavern with my eye patched. I was told that the pirates had rescued me before I drowned and brought me to an outpost when they cashed in their loot. Perhaps someday our paths will cross again, and I will be granted the opportunity to thank them. Until then, my journey must continue. The answers I seek cannot be found while shying away from the dangers of the sea. It seems dead men do tell tales after all, and I am to hear from a skeleton about how I got here. I slurped the rest of my grog, patted Duke on the shoulder and headed towards the door to begin my next adventure. Before leaving the tavern, I heard Duke drunkenly mumble,

    ‘D’ahhh, don’t be careful out there.’

  • The Ebonfire Chronicles: Facing the Damned

    The Fiddler's Green sliced through the waters near Galleon’s Grave. The island outpost from which they had just departed had an impressive silhouette in the moonlight. Two massive boulders reached out from the sea as if they were the arms of some giant stone golem capturing a wrecked galleon within its clutches. Jatazi and the mercenary known only as Face heaved and hulled at the heavy ropes and angled the sails to catch the easterly winds. The sails billowed and the brigantine moved swiftly. It wouldn't be long before they reached their destination.

    "The Crew of the Dancing Demon," Manix re-read the parchment gruffly, "challenge ye to The Final Stand of the Wilds. Be east of Marauder's Arch before daybreak or Galleon's Grave will be destroyed." He sighed to himself, looked at Face, and silently questioned his lover Jatazi’s decision to bring the mercenary along. He thought to himself about how someone could get a nickname as peculiar as Face. As he inspected the stranger he began to see why. Manix noticed that she was very similar in build and age to Jatazi. Both were slender but curved in just the right parts. Both had similar fashion sense. Both even seemed to have similar hair in the darkness of night. The similarities were so significant that Manix became nervous that he might catch himself playfully approaching the wrong woman from behind. Jatazi wouldn't be happy with him if that happened. Fortunately for Manix there was one major difference between the women. While Jatazi's face was tan, smooth and youthful, Face's was pale, rough and scarred. It was as if the stranger was born with twenty years of hardship already upon her.

    Manix and Jatazi Ebonfire were focused on a storm brewing on the horizon in an unnerving silence. It is something the two of them had always practiced before a pending battle. They felt the meditation helped them mentally prepare. The silence would cleanse their souls and come to terms with their potential demise.

    Face wanted nothing to do with this tradition. She broke that silence. "So the two of ya related?"

    "Eww!" Jatazi blurted out with a chuckle. "We're engaged." She explained.

    "Ya done took his surname though," Face stated mockingly with a hint of inquiry. "Bonfire was it?"

    "Ebonfire," Manix corrected coldly. "And if you know of any friendly officiates on the Sea of Thieves by all means point us their way. After so long we just decided to skip the ceremony and share the name."

    "Either way 'ere, Manix," Face started. "Ya got ya'self a good lookin' one 'ere, an' stylish to boot! I wish I could look 'as good in a hat like 'at." The woman reached out for Jatazi's hat which was black and adorned with the teeth of some giant sea creature.

    Jatazi pulled away. A long silence had found its way back to the ship.

    "But not much be lookin' good on me head on account of me knocker," Face continued in an effort break the returning tension. "If only I could at least change me hair color. I'm sure 'at would done an help loads!"

    Jatazi smiled faintly. As weary as she was of this new companion she confessed to herself that she felt more at ease with the distracting conversation than the normal ritual rumination. "It just so happens that I have some hair dyes in the cargo hold. They're new on the market. I picked them up just the other day," Jatazi said as she walked over to the stairs and disappeared below deck. "It won't have time to dry but we can get it started while we travel. I think a vibrant red would do nicely! What do you think?" Jatazi shouted from below.

    "Aye 'at would do nicely me thinks," replied Face from above with a smile, although she could guess that Jatazi's gesture was not of trust as it was to take their mind off of the daunting dangers ahead.

    The ship got quiet once more. Lightning flashed to the west. A soft thunder rolled a few seconds later. The waves became more choppy and Manix became noticeably more alert. ‘I hate storms,’ he thought. ‘I'd test my luck with a kraken or megalodon over a storm any day.’

    The lightning became consistent enough to illuminate the deck as Jastazi wove the dye into Face's hair. The rose red dye, though still dark and wet, had already made Face ten years more youthful.

    Face broke the silence again. "Coun’ ‘elp but notice the name of the ship b’fore I boarded. Why ya call it the Fiddler's Green?" she asked. "Looks to be purple to me. I saw it in the lightnin'."

    "All of our ships are called the Fiddler's Green." Jatazi explained. "The first one actually was green. We used to paint the others but after you sink so many you grow more attached to the name and less attached to the ship."

    Face got noticeably nervous. "Jus' 'ow many ship 'ave the two ya sunk?" she asked.

    "More than we dare recall," Jatazi answered.

    "It's the Sea of Thieves," Manix added. "There will always be another ship."

    "But whats it mean? Fiddler's Green?" Face pushed.

    "It's a sea shanty from another realm about a sort of peaceful seafarer's afterlife called the Fiddler's Green. I'll sing it for you if we survive this." Manix promised.

    "You don't want that," Jatazi interjected. "Manix is great with a hurdy gurdy but his voice is not for much..." Thunder interrupted her. This time louder than before. This time not thunder at all... Cannon fire! Jatazi raised her telescope. "Sails!" she shouted. "Three sets! All galleons! One bearing the legendary mark of Athena’s Ghost and the other two are something I've not seen before! Hell on the high seas! Load the cannons! Ready your weapons!"

    ‘We're in the thick of it now,’ Manix thought to himself as the bottom of the Fiddler's Green smacked into the waves of the now churning sea. They had entered the wake of battle. Before them was a massive galleon with a hull as black as the night sky and sails decorated with the luminescent teal symbol of the Athena's Fortune Ghost, a mark reserved for only the most notorious pirates. Parallel to the galleon was another massive ship which looked as if its hull was constructed with no more than scrap planks and torn canopies for sails. It had no natural business being afloat. It had no natural business being able to turn and quicken as swiftly as it could. No, there was nothing natural about this ship at all. A second abomination of a ship was further out to port. Its silhouette shown grotesquely in the flashes of the coming storm. Manix had heard rumor that these skeletal ship traveled as an armada of nine. Though he had heard many songs and tales of legendary pirates, he could not believe that the lone galleon of Athena had already sunk all but two in the short time it had taken the Fiddler's Green to arrive. Within seconds the nearest of the ghost ships made a sharp pinwheel to starboard and rammed hulls with the galleon of Athena. Shots were exchanged. Manix noticed the encounter was so far less chaotic than he had anticipated. Something wasn't right.

    "What flag on the Athena, Jatazi?" Manix beckoned.

    "The Jolly Roger!" Jatazi replied with her telescope fixed on the mainmast of the legendary ship.

    Manix cursed to himself, remembering all of the times he had encountered hostility from other crews flying that same flag. "Face, raise the mainsail! Jatazi, to the crow's nest and raise the pendant of alliance!" He was hopeful that this extraordinary situation would be enough to negotiate cooperation with the legendary crew. Manix banked the brigantine to starboard away from the battle, patiently waiting for the galleon to respond with their own pendant of alliance.

    Unfortunately patience was a luxury they did not have. The second cursed ship hastened with demonic speed to intercept the Fiddler's Green.
    "Incoming!" Jatazi screamed. "Rotate to port! Cannons ready on starboard!"

    Manix twisted the helm desperately to the left but it was too late. The cursed ship was too fast and already upon them with cannon fire, expertly aimed at the hull of the ship.

    "I'm on it!" Face called, already halfway down the stairs with a hammer and nails in hand.

    "How are we looking down there?" Manix yelled down to Face.

    "Many a hole!" Face responded over her hammering. "Lucky 'ey all be minor! Barely a fish tank of water down 'ere! We be done an' patched up soon!"

    They didn't have soon to wait. The cursed ship pivoted to face the Fiddler's Green head on and quickened. Manix knew that they could not outrun the sorcery of their foe. Their only chance was to match their ability to rotate. He developed a plan. He knew they only had one shot.

    "Face, whatever isn't patched yet will need to wait! Cannons to starboard! Jatazi, cut the mainsail and toss the anchor!" Manix commanded as the steering finally locked to the left. He shoved the butt of his rifle between the crossbars of the helm and railing of the ship, wrenching the wheel and locking it in place. He hurried to a free cannon.

    Jatazi unsheathed her sword, and with one slash each, severed the thick ropes which held the mainsail in a neatly rolled and folded position upon the mast. She quickly turned to the center of the deck and released the locking mechanism which held up the anchor. The sails billowed with the strengthening winds and, like a well oiled machine, the Fiddler's Green locked anchor with the seafloor and corkscrewed. The sudden change of momentum would have sent the crew out of their boots if not for their years of experience.

    "Fire!" Manix screamed while lighting the fuse of his cannon. Face followed his lead. Volley after volley roared and precisely punctured the lower hull of the ghostly galleon. The approaching shadow of the cursed ship's kraken-skull figurehead loomed over the deck of the Fiddler's Green. "Prepare for impact! Jatazi! Board them as they..." The brilliantly crafted purple coated wood of the brigantine crunched deafeningly under the pressure of the cursed ship's bow. The force of the impact sent Manix tumbling down the stairs below deck. He looked around frantically for Jatazi and Face. No one. He called out for them. Nothing. The water began to leak in. He had to repair the ship.

    Face felt a heavy blow to the sternum. A sudden cold wetness overtook her as she was swallowed by the sea. She looked up through the deeps to see the moonlight turned rose red by a stain within the water. She heard more cannon fire, muffled by viscosity of her inevitable grave. ‘I hope the Fiddler's Green welcomes me when I arrive,’ Face thought to herself while closing her eyes in acceptance. All pirates could predict that the sea would be their final resting place. What none of them could predict is how... or when.

    Face felt a hardness to her back pushing her upwards to the surface. She instinctively latched onto the surface bound barrel which had just discarded its cargo of cannonballs and could now make use of its natural buoyancy. Face gasped for air and saw the carnage surrounding her. Planks and splinters circled around her. She thought back to the red tainting of the sea and patted herself down in search of wounds. Her stomach ached from the blow of the impact. It was certainly bruised, perhaps a fractured rib, but nothing more serious than that. She slicked back her hair which was obstructing her view. Her hands were red with hair dye. She couldn't help but cackle with relief. Finally gathering herself, Face strained to see above the waves and searched for any signs of life. Somehow the Fiddler's Green was still afloat!

    Jatazi held on tightly to the ladder of the cursed ship. She heard the marching of clanking bones fade into the cargo hold. The deck was clear. Now was her chance. Jatazi hoisted herself up, readied her sword, and charged into the underbelly of the ship. The undead crew, focused on repairing the damage inflicted by the Fiddler's Green, could not have expected how fast and skilled the young woman was with a sword. It wasn't long before the hold of the ship was carpeted in bones. The water raised swiftly within. She ran above deck to spot the Fiddler's Green, miraculously just barely above water and within a swimmer's reach. A waterlogged Face was climbing the ladder back aboard the brigantine and the sound of Manix hammering echoed within its hull. What's more, she noticed, the galleon of legends had also been victorious and now sailed the pendant of an accepted alliance! Jatazi couldn't help but smile, but that smile was nothing if not short lived.

    The ghastly wail of a demonic conch-shell resonated through the air. Lightning struck the open seas with a crack of thunder. The pitch black clouds and frigid rain rushed in like a swarm of locusts. The water bubbled and glowed green.

    The Athena marked galleon's masts rocked like a pendulum as another ship from the undead armada surfaced from underneath.

    The waves stirred violently and Jatazi knew she could no longer swim back to the brigantine, but as the ship she stood on continued to sink she knew she had to try. The sea raged around her. It swallowed her up and spat her out to its own sadistic delight. With every stroke forward she move a body's length back. Exhaustion overtook her. Her muscles cramped and slowed with the lactic acid being released within. Another soul was condemned to the depths... Yet another soul was rejected. The green glow from the abyss blinded Jatazi and she soon found herself on the deck of yet another cursed galleon! However this one was different. As she laid upon the deck, Jatazi had expected the skeletal crew to attack her. Instead they loaded green glowing cannonballs in the cannons as the ship turned to target the Fiddler's Green. Her temples ached suddenly and intensely. She turned to see a blackend skeleton dressed in a black coat and matching hat with smouldering green fiery eyes. A guttural voice penetrated her mind. ‘Welcome aboard the Dancing Demon, Jatazi Ebonfire.’

    Manix ducked instinctively as more cannon fire hit the hull of the Fiddler's Green. He groaned as he realized he was stuck and his freedom was conditioned solely to the mercy of the merciless enemy cannons. He had to keep the brigantine afloat, but something was wrong. A green aura enveloped the interior of the cargo hold. Manix’s muscles twitched and spasmed as if being controlled by another mind. He fell to the floor and the water quickly inched above his head.

    Face discovered the horrific scene below the deck of the Fiddler’s Green. Manix flopped around the floor in a dance like seizure, gasping for air and coughing whenever he flopped above the water. She secured the bulky man and tugged him until his head was above water. Just as she was about to resume Manix’s patchwork, the loud crack of splintering wood sounded again. The wind was so strong that it dragged the brigantine, ripping the anchor through the seafloor like a knife through butter, and crashed it fiercely into a nearby rock. The hull of the brigantine opened in a chasm.

    Manix came to just in time. He and Face rushed up to the deck and leaped upon the rock. The fractured brigantine caught the downward tide, pulled away, and sank slowly into the abyss. The Fiddler's Green was lost.

    They heard an explosion from behind, ten times the volume of a cannon blast. A bright yellow flash lit up the cloud veiled night sky and reflected upon the endless onslaught of raindrops. The galleon of legends ignited its foe into a blazing inferno of gunpowder.

    Manix searched the seas frantically to no avail. Jatazi was nowhere to be seen. He called out for her. No response. Suddenly a scream of terror escaped the Dancing Demon. Jatazi needed help. The green lit galleon rotated and set sail to attack the crew of legends. Manix and Face took advantage of the Dancing Demon’s close passing proximity and leapt for the ladder. The galleon of Athena began to rotate in the distance facing its cannon to the lead vessel of the undead fleet. However instead of setting their cannons ablaze, the legendary galleon retired their alliance pendant and set sail in retreat. Manix couldn't make heads or tails of it. He didn't have time to. He heard Jatazi scream once more. Without a second thought, Manix and Face quickly summited the ladder with blades drawn.

    Face turned to the bow and tried to hold off the demonic crew. Her path worked to bottleneck the skeletons on the stairs leading below deck. She knew she couldn’t handle them all and clung to the hope that Manix and Jatazi would soon come to her aid.

    Manix saw Jatazi on her knees near the helm. The captain of the Dancing Demon towered over her with his boney fingers clutching Jatazi’s head. Jatazi was muttering an incantation in a voice not her own. The skeletal captain’s green eyes glowed brighter. Manix charged forward and dashed up the stairs with the rage of a berserker and tackled the demon away from his love. The black skeleton threw its attacker off of it with the force of ten men. Manix rolled and caught himself upon the rails of the vessel. The skeletal captain approached him slowly.

    Jatazi snapped out of her trance, performed quickdraw with her pistol, pulled the trigger, and prayed that the gun wasn’t too waterlogged to function. Both her prayers and aim proved to be true. The bullet zipped through the rain and slugged the cursed captain in the back of its skull. The black skeleton stammered, just long enough for both Manix and Jatazi to set their swords upon it, carving and thinning its boney frame slice by slice until its form came completely undone. The rest of the cursed crew exploded in a chaos of boney shrapnel as if they were bound the fate of their captain.

    The crew of the fallen Fiddler’s Green collapsed upon the ghost ship to catch their breath. It seemed all at once the storm had let up and the first morning’s light glistened upon the eastern horizon. The sea bubbled once more. The three companions grasped each other’s arms in support. The Dancing Demon turned with a mind of its own and began to plummet back down to the abyss of the Wilds to wait for a new captain. Manix, Jatazi and Face dove overboard and swam for a nearby protruding rock, still adorned with some scattered remains of the Fiddler’s Green. The three of them laid there in the warmth of the rising sun.

    Manix reached for Jatazi’s hand and looked to Face with an exhausted smile. He sang off key but, in that moment, none of them cared. “Wrap me up in me oilskins and jumpers. No more on the docks I’ll be seen. Just tell me ol’ shipmates, I’m taking a trip, mates, and I’ll see you someday in Fiddler’s Green.”

    “What will we do now?” asked Face.

    Manix looked east to the silhouette of that farce of a legendary galleon. “It’s the Sea of Thieves,” he said. “There will always be another ship.”

    #AthenasFortuneContest

  • I decided to write a tale that could be in a bigger fan-book, if people likes it.
    It uses knowledge from the Sea of Thieves Wiki.
    It's a comedy of 2448 words.
    The protagonist's and his antagonist's names are put together by me, and the coincidence to real people's or other players' names is purely accidental.
    (These <<>> are the triangular parenthesis for the dialogues).
    The title is: Captain Morgan's Revenge - Athena's Misfortune.

    <<Full!>>, shouted Captain Armando Morgan. He was stranded from an entire moon on a little island east of Shipwrecked Bay. <<Of baloney! Like yer stories!>>, replied one of his poker adversaries. <<Come, now, King Bob, don’t be such a salty Susie, or yer face will turn purple! Give me that plate o’ bananas, before they rot!>>. King Bob’s skinny and pale hands passed his anti-scurvy win to him. <<And then what happened, when yer lifelong rival, Captain Angelo Montevideo, fooled ya again?>>, asked King Bob, while chattering his teeth. <<After he sent his baby Kraken after me, I’ve decided to send HIM on a fool’s errand!!>>. <<AGAIN!?>>. <<Yes, again! But this time, I’ve sent good ol’ George himself to give him a fake Shanty o’ Legends for a fake Athena’s Fortune Voyage!>> <<Is that even possible?>> <<I don’t know and I don’t care, but he managed to! Had to pay him with a golden ship...>> <<Just tell the tale, or I’ll crush yer skull!!>> <<Fine, but I’ll warn ya: it’s a tale of mischief, mistrust, misdirection and mysteries… A real… Athena’s misfortune!>>:
    It all started when me and me crew shipwrecked on Galleon’s Grave Outpost. We were beaten and bitter, so we went to the Broken Tusk to lift our spirits up with some… spirit. Suddenly, two green glowing lights came from a corner of the tavern: it was the mysterious... George! He said to me: <<Ye’re a worthy Captain, ready to become a Legend! Take this, and play yer hurdy-gurdy to the end!>> He gave me the most desirable song in the whole Sea of Thieves area: the Shanty o’ Legends! We met the Pirate Lord, who gave us a series of quests, and Blind Bob, who delighted us with his pirate puns, like: <<How much did the pirate pay for his peg and hook? An arm and a leg!>>. Then, the most mischievous idea came into mind: the fake Voyage for Captain Montevideo! After completing all the quests, and after George confirmed he never gave the Shanty to Montevideo, we had enough to buy a golden ship on Golden Sands Outpost and corrupt good ol’ Georgie. We arranged everything: we corrupted everyone on Galleon’s Grave Outpost, we sent specific instructions to the other Outposts, we bought shiny clothes to disguise ourselves as the Pirate Lord and Blind Bob, we prepared quests and arranged treasures on various islands. The trap was ready. One day, at last, Montevideo arrived on Galleon’s Grave Outpost and entered the Broken Tusk to drink some grog while his crew was resting on his ship. The Tavernkeep and George looked at each other, and the act started to play. “Greetings, Legend! Through many voyages upon the sea, you searched to find the Legends Key. Now one last step to pass the tests, to find where Athena's Fortune rests. My name is George and I may hold the Key, through stories untold upon the sea. Take this tune and make a sound, the secret lies near in the ground”. Amazed by his encounter, Montevideo took his Royal Sovereign Concertina and started to play this awful tune, attracting the booing and shame of a few drunken cabin’s boys. We came out of our hiding hole and greeted Montevideo as a hero. I, as the Pirate Lord, cheerfully slapped his back and pushed him on a chair. We introduced each other and my first mate began spouting bad dad’s jokes like: <<Ya know when a Legend is wooden? When he’s a peg leg-end!>>. Then, while repeatedly slapping his back, I started me speech: <<Ahoy, captain! Are ye supposed to be a captain? Ye’re dressed like a cabin’s boy... And ya smell like a walrus who just drunk ten barrels of grog! Blind Bob, are ye sure this is the right guy? Nevertheless, I’m the Pirate Lord, and ye’re one of those “aspiring” Legends that endlessly roam the Sea of Thieves, even if it looks like ye bought yer fame, right? Well, well… If ya want to become a TRUE LEGEND, ya have to do some quests for me, to prove me that yer worth! (loud whisper) He’s gonna fail at the chicken’s quest, Bob! (mighty voice) Come on, young lad, don’t be so afraid! If yer fame is earned, these quests should be a breeze for ya!>>. Then I gently dropped my quests on his feet. <<Sorry, lad! I help ya get ‘em!>>. Bam! Right on his face! Ponf! On the table: spilled all his grog on his clothes! We left him to study those treacherous maps and riddles and we watched him leave the Broken Tusk in a hurry, like he was suddenly pushed by the pointy horn of a manatee! Me trusted and silent spy in his crew told me what happened next.
    Montevideo arrived with his clothes full of grog, leaves and sand, his hands full of unofficial maps, his beard, his hair and his hat full of branches, and his face incredibly red and sweaty. <<Captain, what happened?>> <<Anf… uff… I met the Pirate Lord… at the tavern… he gave me… us… these… to become Legends… Puff… pant… I ran through the vegetation to arrive… as soon as I could...>> The quests were no less than eight! Two trade goods requests, two X-marks-the-spot maps, two riddle maps and two bounty maps: they needed to find eight goodies, ten treasures and eight Skeleton Captains! The two trade good requests led them specifically on Fools Lagoon. They needed to capture just a couple o’ pigs, but the island was full of holes created for the pig’s joy. When they boarded their ship with the pigs, they were covered in mud and tar. Soon, the entire ship, the sails, the mast, the quarters were covered in mud and tar. The second island on the list was the Isle of Last Words. They needed six snakes, but, little did they know, we preemptively trapped all the snakes on top of the rocks at the South end of the Isle. They uselessly wandered through the vegetation in the North end, guided by contradictory signs, ‘til Montevideo looked through his Ceremonial Admiral Spyglass, and noticed the snake trap. When he reached the rocks and cut the trap’s rope, all the Isle snake rained all over him. They weren’t venomous, but he jumped right out of his skin and ran to the ship, screaming like a little girl, and covered with mud, tar and snake’s skin. The third island was a little Atoll called Old Salts Atoll. The requests asked a chicken for every little island of the Atoll. These four chickens were trained by me first mate to fight against any hostile. Montevideo smartly sent every member of his crew and himself on a different island. The pecks were hurtful and the chickens covered the pirate’s bodies with feathers. The fourth and last island of these goodies requests was Keel Haul Fort. Oh, they found all the barrels they needed… and more! Me first mate was disguised as a big ape, and he rolled down those barrels onto Montevideo’s crew, while eating some bananas. When the four unfortunate fools came back on Galleon’s Grave Outpost, they were covered of mud, tar, branches, leaves, sand, gunpowder, sea salt, feathers and blood. The other crews that saw them laughed hysterically at ‘em, and when they reached Senior Trader Meg, she dropped this pearl at them: <<Ah, guys, I know ye’re “Legends”, but for the items of these maps, I can give ya only these two special “Legend Tokens”!>>. Back on the ship, while the crew was scrubbing everything and Montevideo was taking a bath, strange suspicions were starting to raise. That evening, during dinner, they started to discuss the odd situation they found themselves in: <<Angelo, those quests were filled with traps!>>, <<Aye! And Trade Goods Maps never specified certain islands!>>, <<And those “Legend Tokens” really are strange...>>, <<Do ya think we’re being set up by someone?>>, <<Aye! It’s been a long time since we heard of Armando!>>, <<I think he died from our Kraken, guys!>>. <<Alright, crew, listen up! Ya all have good concerns, and even if the Pirate Lord reminded me of someone, I can guarantee ya: there is nothing to worry about! These quests are supposed to be more challenging, to prove I’m worth… we’re worth of becoming TRUE LEGENDS! The Tokens will probably be our Rare proof of mightiness: the Lord will probably need eight Tokens to declare me… us Legends! So rest now, me mighty pirates! The next days will be hard! I mean: what could possibly go wrong?>>.
    The next day, the first X-marks-the-spot Map sent Montevideo’s crew on Sailor’s Bounty. Pretty easy maps to use, especially with an Admiral Compass like Montevideo’s, but we took the liberty to rearrange a few of the landmarks. They spent half of their day to recognize the island, uncover some landmarks hidden in vegetation, rocks and sand, and re-rearrange everything. When they finally found the right spots, they took their Kraken Shovels and dug four Chests of Sorrows up. They could barely reach the second island, ‘cause of all the water produced by me Chests. Montevideo’s crew arrived on Cannon Cove with a semi-sunk ship. The Cove has a really famous painting of a red Kraken. Sadly, only my spy found it and saw what we painted over. He scratched it. He said it was “very distasteful and unfunny”, what ever that means. In our thirst for revenge, we had a lot of fun with this island: red Xs marked everywhere, destroyed vegetation, moved rocks, skeletons pointing at Xs formed with their own bones, animals enclosed in little fences shaped like Xs! It was already midnight when they dug four Chests of a Thousand Grogs up and wobbled to their ship. They quickly shipped to Golden Sand Outpost, to sell the Chests to Hugh the Hoarder. Good ol’ Hugh fulfilled his part perfectly: <<Sorry, “Legends”, but ya can sell these particular Chests only to me colleague Henry, on Galleon’s Grave Outpost!>>. The drunk and tired Montevideo had to set camp up on the North side of the Eastern island and guard the Chests himself to not let the ship sink! On his ship, his crew was beaten and bitter, and me spy helped raise the discontent. They took another day just to go back on Galleon’s Grave Outpost and sell the Chests to Henry: <<It’s about time, “Legends”! Hugh told me ya tried to cheat the Pirate Lord himself by trying to sell these precious and peculiar chests on another Outpost!>> <<But we...>> <<Shut up, “Captain”, if ya really are the captain, and take these two special “Legend Tokens”, even if I think ya don’t deserve it! Now, go rest and take a bath: ya look and smell horrible!>>.
    The third day they risen, rested and cleaned, to the search of the Riddle’s island, now prepared for the worst. “On Old Faithful Isle the first Chest is, but first ya need the Entwined Trees. Just hug the trees and don’t be fool, now go South to the High Murky Pool. Take a deep dip into the water, and light the Lantern on the Skull Pile altar. The beautiful anchor on the beach rest, take to the South thirteen steps at best”. Those were odd instructions, right? Well, they did everything: hugged those dirty trees and got new cuts on their skin, alongside with the chickens’ pecks; took a filthy bath in the Murky Pool; re awoke the skull on the altar with Montevideo’s Sailor Lantern; all for another Chest of Sorrow, an always active one, this time. The second riddle recited: “On Shark Bait Cove ya will find a Statue to climb, don’t pick the wrong one or something will come to mind. Now find the Fisherman’s Grave, and prepare thyselves to be brave. Grab the Shovel and start to dig, because ya have to fill thy brig. Now that the Fisherman’s out, find the Barnacled Chests and go thirteen step South”. Needless to say, they climbed onto the wrong Statue… twice! And their Kraken Shovels angered the Fisherman, who trapped ‘em with his fishing line. They got into a fight when they discovered the fifth Chest of a Thousand Grogs. On Galleon’s Grave Outpost, they were embittered and furious, and Henry gave them a threatening look and two more Tokens.
    The fourth day was Captain’s Skulls hunting day. The first four Skeleton Captains were on Kraken’s Fall. Montevideo almost cried when he read the names of his former successful crew, but his actual crew wanted to get this over so quickly, that the Skulls were gathered only in an hour. During the voyage to Kraken Watchtower, Montevideo reminded his former crew: <<I missed ya, guys! Look, these are… were the Spaghetti Brothers! They were always chanting “Don’t forget yer spaghet”! I never knew what they meant… Wait, did ya hear that? The Spaghet said “They’re deceiving ya”?>>. On Kraken Watchtower, the battle was longer: the four captains were Montevideo’s enemies, still angry and hungry for revenge. Finally back on Galleon’s Grave Outpost, they suspiciously gave the eight Skulls to Madame Oksana. She cheerfully gave them two Tokens, chuckling to herself, when, suddenly, her fury erupted: <<Do not tempt yer fate! Trust the Pirate Lord, non-believers!>> <<I wasn’t...>> <<I can read yer minds, Angelo Montevideo! Ya were about to ask about the “Legends Tokens”! Give them to the Pirate Lord, and follow his instructions!>>. They ran into the Broken Tusk, like pigs pecked by chickens! In the tavern, they found yers truly, dressed as the Lord and always full of cheerful slaps: <<Well done, lads! Now, bring the Chest of Legends! It’s on Paradise Spring, in the lake at the center of the island!>>.
    They reluctantly sailed to Paradise Spring, while I dangerously sneaked on their ship. On Paradise Spring, they spent hours and hours diving into the lake, searching a Chest that wasn’t there, until Montevideo himself saw me and captured me. After a voyage where I was proudly bragging of how I fooled him, he made me walk the plank and left me on a random Uncharted Island! Can ya believe that!?
    <<NO, I CAN’T!>>, replied King Bob, tired of Morgan’s stories. He was about to get up and attack him, when Morgan’s ship arrived on shore. <<Captain, we finally found ya! Come on board!>> <<Wait a second, guys! Ahoy, King Bob! I’ll come back to tell ya more stories! Let’s go, guys!>>. While Morgan jumped on board, his crew looked on the island to see King Bob, but all they saw were two half buried skeletons and a plate of rotten bananas.

  • @khaleesibot

    It is almost winter, and the day is… I have lost track of time, if I am to be honest, but it all started a few weeks ago. On one of what seemed to be a normal voyage …


    The fireplace was burning bright, bathing the room with its warmth and light, as the tavernkeeper was scrubbing some stains from the countertop. A faint melody was playing in the background, the screeching sound coming from an old wooden music box. It was a peculiar object, with two round disks made of bone. She carefully took the box in her hands and cleaned the little skeleton pirate that started spinning on top of one of the disks, as she turned a small key at the side of the case.
    “Ah, my good old George; I still remember the day when you came in my tavern and gifted me this weird music box” she said to herself, looking at the box, smiling nostalgically. “Ms. Tracy, please accept this gift as a token of my love for you, you said to me.” She giggled as she looked towards the tavern’s door. “Silly sailor, you told me that the bones were those of a Kraken, and the sound that it played was the weeping of the beast.” She shook her head and chuckled.
    The tavern’s door suddenly opened wide and a tall man stood in the doorway, soaking wet. He was fairly skinny, and his wrinkles, grey beard and hair told many stories of old. He had a strange tattoo under his left eye, a small tear drop. He was dressed somewhat elegantly, with a light blue long sleeved shirt and a fancy scarf.
    “Ms. Tracy, Sherry sent news that a galleon crew is sailing towards our docks, somewhere from North by North-West!” He spoke as he walked inside, combing his wet, slick hair backwards with his hand.
    “What type of galleon are we talking about?! Someone on an adventure or … something less friendly?” a raggedly dressed man approached them from near the fireplace, rubbing his hands together as he asked.
    “She says she thinks she recognized their flag, being one that she made a while back.” Charles turned towards Duke, who was a bit tipsy, holding a tankard in his hand.
    “What wretched soul would be crazy enough to be sailing out there on this weather, Charles?!” Tracy looked at him intrigued, tapping her fingernails on the countertop.
    “That fool of a Pheebs…” Charles inhaled deeply as he took a seat at the long and sturdy wooden table right by the fireplace. He sat with his back at it, letting the soothing warmth of the fire caress his back. He pushed the plate that was in front of him towards the other side and grabbed a tankard, looking towards Tracy. “Give an old man some grog to soothe his throat, would you?”.
    “Are you actually going to pay for your drink this time, old man?!” she grinned as she walked to him, taking his tankard and filling it up. Some of the grog accidentally dripped on a candle that was slowly burning between them, extinguishing it.
    “You know I am good for it, not like Duke over here!” he said, making Duke shrug and chuckle. “I am just waiting for a shipment of luxurious cloth to arrive and I’ll be in the money!”.
    “Now, I wonder what brought Captain Pheebs to our Outpost, on this stormy night?” Tracy asked as she looked up to one of the chandeliers. It was an improvised one, made from an old ship’s steering wheel, hung with rope from the tavern’s ceiling. On top of it there were candles burning on the handles of the wheel, giving a dim light in the establishment. She got up on her toes and snuffed the one candle that was facing towards her countertop. “Darn candles, I will never again buy any of them from that mystic woman!” she puffed as she walked towards the back of the room.
    Tracy walked past a couple of red and blue barrels, filled with different kinds of alcohol and stopped in front of a wooden door, with metal strips on it. She slowly opened the door and walked inside, where a shabbily dressed woman was laying injured on a bed. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, with strands of her dark purple hair covering her scarred cheek. Her scars carved their way on her shoulders and back, scars that looked red in the room’s dim light, scars that seemed to have come from Forsaken Shores.
    “I have to leave for a bit, we have a ship, a galleon sailing towards the docks. But I won’t be long gone.” Tracy said as she walked to her side, gently bandaging the woman’s shoulder. The woman stood quietly and watched Tracy walk back into the tavern.
    Tracy walked outside into the pouring rain, with both Duke and Charles following her closely. The raindrops were gracefully falling down on her clothes and skin, dripping from her peculiar necklace. Charles mumbled to himself as he grumpily walked towards the dock as the rain was soaking his expensive silky scarf. Only Duke seemed to be enjoying nature’s tantrum, tipsily humming Becalmed, a fairly odd choice for the weather that was upon them.
    “For how long are you going to allow that woman to stay in your tavern, Tracy?” Charles asked, shaking his head as he looked over at her.
    “For as long as she needs. You’ve seen her, you’ve seen in what state she was when she washed on our shores. We need to give her time.”
    “Time?! She’s been there for almost half a year! We know nothing about her, she hasn’t spoken, not even once!” Charles raised his voice.
    “Everyone has a past that haunts them, some more than others.” She grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. “And you, you do not get to tell me how and what I can do in my own tavern.”
    “Okay, that’s fair enough!” he squirmed in her grip, eventually breaking free.
    “These fools are going to crash into the dock!” a woman screamed as she ran towards the three of them.
    “Ha! They’re coming full billow!” Duke laughed as the galleon was catching up speed fast.
    “Why, just why can’t they raise those damn sails up in time?! This always happens!”
    “They don’t really care, because we are the ones who repair every single thing they crash into, Sherry…” Tracy sighed as the galleon was getting closer and closer.
    “Anchor! Drop the anchor!” someone screamed from aboard the ship.
    “I can’t raise the sails and drop the anchor at the same time, you wally!” another one said as the galleon crashed into the dock.
    The ship drifted a good measure from the outpost, the crew running around the deck trying to get their galleon back on course. “We need repairs!” people shouted while others rushed above from the second deck, throwing buckets filled with water overboard. “Bail! I need help bailing!” was the last thing heard from the ship for a couple of moments.
    Tracy and Sherry stood on the pier and gazed at some of the crew who were gathered at the back of the captain’s quarters, each holding a few riches. They were loading the rowboat, that was tightly and securely docked with rope at the back of the galleon, with chests and skulls, one shinier than the other. “This one I’ll be handing in myself” a strong, womanly voice pierced the night as she jumped in the water with a strange looking chest.
    “Oh, she’s not setting foot on here!” Sherry said and stepped towards the ladder at the side of the dock.
    “Ahoy there, lasses!” the woman said as she floated in the water, looking at Sherry and Tracy.
    “Ahoy?! AHOY?! This is the third time you ruin my dock, Pheebs!”
    “Hey, it’s Captain Pheebs and this time it really wasn’t my fault! I couldn’t see!” she shouted and quickly grabbed the ladder, pulling herself up as a shark rushed to take a chunk out of her pegleg.
    “No, that is not my problem! This time, you’ll pay for the damage you and your crew have done!” Sherry menacingly walked towards Pheebs.
    “Okay, okay! We will cover the costs of repairs. Let my crew row in and sell what we plundered from those skellies over at Keel Haul Fort.” Pheebs scoffed and rolled her eyes, heading past Sherry and Tracy, towards the marketplace of the outpost.
    As she walked down the dock’s stairs and onto the wet sand, she rushed towards a green hut. “Hurry up, ye landlubbers!” she shouted at her crew, which were unloading the remaining treasure onto the shore. A small flag of a slightly darker green was hanging down a wooden pillar; a golden key was painted on it, the same key that could be seen on the sides of the hut. Inside, there was an elderly man, with white short hair and silky looking beard. He was dressed in a long and tight turquoise coat, with buttons made of gold. He had a chain of keys on his belt and a small golden key on a necklace around his neck.
    As she approached him, the bags and piles of gold glistened in the pouring rain. But that wasn’t what made him stand out. He had a small golden ornament under his right eye and his right hand’s middle and ring finger were covered in a thick layer of gold. Upon laying his eyes on her, he smiled widely, revealing his rotten teeth.
    “Now, what brings you to my humble tent, on this lovely night?” he asked her and grinned as he stared at the chest that she was carrying.
    “Look what we found washed on a beach over in the Shores of Plenty!” she raised the chest up into his face.
    “Shiver me timbers! What is that?!” he rushed forward with his hands, caressing the metal fittings on the chest.
    “No, no! Hands off, you slimy old man! Let me see the coin first!” she took a step back and stared at him.
    “Argh, fine! Here! Now, give me that chest!” he hissed at her, throwing a small pouch of gold at her feet.
    “Hm, I think you can do better…” she pushed the pouch back to him, with her foot.
    “Captain Pheebs, you’re a scoundrel!” he snapped at her, but took another pouch from behind of him. “My chest, mine!” he handed the gold to her, staring at the chest.
    “I’ll be taking …these.” She grabbed the pouch from his hand and dragged the other one with her foot.
    She took the bags of gold and held them tightly in her hands as she turned around and looked at her crew who were selling the remaining loot. “Come, we are getting the finest grog tonight!” she shouted and gestured for them to follow her. Charles covered his head and shoulders with a small green blanket and looked at Tracy, shrugging. Both of them hurried after Pheebs and her crew, while Sherry walked back to her little workshop on the dock, where she started tinkering at the cap of a wooden barrel.
    “Yes, grog!” Duke shouted and squeezed Pheebs’ quartermaster at his chest.
    “Easy there, bilge ratty. Hands off, Gartunkle is mine!” Pheebs eyed Duke, her fingers slowly gripping the hilt of her cutlass.
    “Oh no, I didn’t mean to, Captain!” Duke gulped and took a step back, waiting for Tracy and Charles.
    “What an adventure, Captain” one of the crew members shouted, pouring himself some grog from the barrel and raised his tankard up.
    “Aye, Raw Souce, me laddy!” Pheebs laughed and sat down at the table.
    “Oi, do that again and I will cut your fingers off!” Tracy rushed in and shouted at Raw, seeing him help himself from the grog barrel.
    Charles gazed over to the green tent as he walked towards the tavern. He stopped and laughed, seeing the man curse and kick the chest that Pheebs had sold him.
    “Cursed thing! Open up!” he shouted at the chest as he tried several keys on the lock.
    “What seems to be the problem, Humphrey?” he asked and laughed, walking over to him.
    “Scammed! I have been fooled by that pirate!” he shouted and hissed at Charles.
    “Seems like your key doesn’t fit in, old man” Charles mocked him.
    “Nonsense! There’s no chest that I don’t have a key for! I am Humphrey of the Gold Hoarders! There’s no chest that we can’t open!” he picked the chest up and stomped towards the tavern, cursing and mumbling.
    “How did you manage to get so much treasure?!” Duke asked as he drank tankard after tankard of grog.
    “Well, everything went better than any of us expected! By the end of the second day on the sea we reached an island north of here, through where people are known to…” Raw stopped in the middle of his sentence and looked at the boatswain.
    “People use it as a smuggling bay, a place where things come and go, depending on the price that you’re willing to pay.” The boatswain said as he looked at Raw.
    “Hey, don’t go around telling everyone how and where we do business, Anon!” Pheebs shouted at the boatswain. “Here, you’re better off drinking! Now, drink and shut up!” she said, smashing a tankard on the table, in front of him.
    “You, you scurvy pirate!” Humphrey rushed inside the tavern, shouting at Pheebs. “Give me back my money!” he threw the chest at her.
    “Oi, it was a fair trade!” she screamed, hiding behind Ortomith, one of the fluffiest pirates that ever sailed the seas.
    “No fighting in here! Take it outside!” Tracy tried getting between them, but the chest bounced off of Ortomith’s belly and onto her foot. “Oi!”.
    “She tricked me! She gave me a fake chest!” he hissed at Pheebs, pointing his golden fingers at her.
    “Hey, that is not true! Not my fault that you Gold Hoarders can’t do anything right!” Pheebs threw her tankard at Humphrey.
    As they kept arguing and fighting over who was right about the chest, the door at the back of the tavern slowly opened. The injured woman who Tracy looked after walked towards the countertop, holding one of her bandages tightly at a wound on her ribs.
    “Tracy? Hey, Tracy!” Charles, who also walked in the tavern as the parties kept arguing, pointed towards the woman.
    “Oh, you’re up! Wait…how are you up?! What are you doing?!” Tracy gasped as she saw the woman standing there.
    “That… chest…” she sighed and shivered as she stared at the chest.
    “Everyone knows that you scammed me! Even that woman can tell it’s a fake chest!” Humphrey shouted and pointed at the woman.
    “Nonsense! Don’t blame me because the Gold Hoarders can’t open it!” Pheebs took her blunderbuss, “Big Bertha”, and pointed it at Humphrey.
    “Now, now… no need to use violence.” Duke walked between the two, leaning against a wooden pole, being too drunk to stand on his own two feet.
    “You…speak!” Tracy shouted at the woman, looking at her baffled.
    “She is right…” the woman said as she stepped from behind the counter, slowly walking towards the chest. “No one can open it… Not you, Gold Horder, or you, Order of Souls” she looked at the door, where a mysterious woman stood and watched what was happening.
    “She is right…” the mysterious woman spoke as she stepped inside. “There is something about that chest… something inside of it, something of great magic.” She gazed upon the chest.
    “Magic?! I am not getting my hands near that!” Humphrey took a step back and gulped.
    “What is inside of it, what do you feel, Madame Olive?” Charles asked, turning towards the mysterious lady.
    “I … I do not know. But I have a feeling that you do… Why don’t you tell us who you really are!” she turned her gaze towards the injured woman.
    “I … I am … Truewalker.” The woman said as her gaze met Olive’s.
    “Captain… Kat… Truewalker. How is that even possible?” Olive shivered at the sound of her name.
    “Wait… Truewalker? As in… Queen of Eoland’s Fleet?! That Truewalker?!” Duke asked as he stared at Kat. “My people!” he raised his finger in the air and burped. “My people heard of you! Well, stories about you…Well, can’t really rememember…”.
    “How can this be?” Humphrey asked, turning towards Olive.
    “How, indeed! Those pirates perished hundred of years ago…” she questioned Kat, looking suspiciously at her.
    “Two hundred years, to be more exact…” she said and kneeled in front of the chest, taking a peculiar relic from the back of her belt.
    “Wait, what are you doing to my chest?!” Pheebs asked as she stepped forth from behind Ortomith’s back.
    “Your chest?!” Humphrey poked her arm.
    “This chest… it shouldn’t be here… it belonged to my old Captain, to Ere…but I made sure to make it so it would never be found.” She sighed and looked at the chest. “The seas are calling, he said… how foolish was I to believe him. How did I not see that he changed…that it corrupted…” she shivered and fit the relic in the chest’s lock, opening it.


    Oh, how I wish I would have never set sail to Sanctuary Outpost with that chest. That chest… how things would have been if we haven’t found that cursed chest!


    “What are those?!” several of them asked as they gathered around Kat, looking down at the chest.
    “That…is glowing!” Charles said as he saw a piece of cloth, glowing a bright red.
    “That…that is the Reaper’s Mark. Evil imbued into it… I wouldn’t touch that if I were you. Only sorrow and death come from it.” She stared into the red skull that was shining on the cloth.
    “What is all of this? Why … why do I feel such strong magic coming from inside?!” Olive shivered and took a step back.
    “This… this will give you the answers that you seek.” Kat picked up a dusty journal and handed it to Olive.

    “It's been years since I found it
    and I am no longer myself without
    it; it's calling to me, in the dead
    of night, in each moment that I'm
    away from it. I can no longer see a
    world in which it's not mine...

    I am long past my time, but it made
    me powerful, it made me what I
    am... but little did I know; it
    bound me to a realm beyond what we
    can see and touch. It has changed
    me, Kat said…”

  • Rebirth - A Sea of Thieves Tale
    Author: Zubair Ahmed

    A bright lantern shone in the darkness of a tavern. A solitary table was in the middle of the pub. A man lay sprawled upon this table, dripping with what seemed to be water. His hat, or what was his hat, had fallen off his head and was lying on the ground, tattered. Surrounding the waterlogged man was what must be his companions. Three individuals were stood shouting to their befallen friend, trying their hardest to wake him up but despite their best efforts, the man slept still as a statue unaware to what was going on around him.

    “Captain,” yelled Leonnard. “Come on, you lazy Seadog!”
    “Is he…” whimpered Swimfer. Swimfer was a young man in his mid-twenties who was very short and stout and was regarded as the weakest of the group.
    “Don’ even fink about’ finishing that sentence, Swimfer,” said Russel “’ey, Len,”
    “What?”
    “Ya think we shoul’ bring- “

    DING!

    A large man with tattoos of rats painted all over his body stomped through the door.

    “-DUKE! DOES I’ HURT T’ KNOCK” said Russel angrily.
    “HEY RUSSEL! LONG TIME NO SEE BROTHER!” boomed Duke.
    “Hi Duke, how're the Bilge Rats going?” whimpered Swimfer.
    “Ah, didn’t see ya there Swimfer. They’re great, yeah great,”
    “Duke, why are you here?” demanded Leonnard
    “ ‘eard something happene’ to Morgan, he’s the strongest man I’ve ever known,” Duke said

    The trio stepped aside so Duke could get a better view of the fallen sailor. The door to the tavern was swung open and a man that looked half encrusted in gold slumped in and roared so loud the tavern started shaking.

    “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS RUCKUS AT THIS TIME OF NIGHT.”

    Everyone in the tavern screamed except Swimfer, who had already fainted.

    “GREAT GOING HENRY, WAKE UP THE ENTIRE OUTPOST WHY DON’T YOU!” shrieked Leonnard.

    Russel had abruptly gotten to his feet and was chasing the Gold Hoarder around the tavern with his cutlass at hand.

    “COM’ HERE YA THIEVEIN’ SCALLYWAG!”
    “What do you hope to achieve by chasing me, young Russel,”
    “GIVE ME MY GOLD!”
    “HAHAHA! That was the most hilarious joke I’ve heard all year.” laughed Henry
    Leonnard went and made a grab for Russel.
    “GET OFF ME LEONNARD BEFORE- “
    “What are you gonna do, Russel”

    Whilst Russel and Leonnard were arguing, Swimfer was getting up from the floor and Duke was drinking grog from an old, dirty cup he found on the countertop. As all this was going on, the body was beginning to stir. He slowly moved each of his fingers and then did the same with his toes. His energy was slowly coming back to him and steadily, he got up from the table and picked up his waterlogged hat and placed it on his head, only to have it fall off. Swimfer was the first to notice the strange movement. His eyes lit up and he sprinted faster than lightning and knocked his captain to the ground.

    “CAPTAIN, YOU’RE ALIVE!”

    All of a sudden, a blanket of silence fell upon the tavern and all was still and silent. And just as quick as it came, the silence was replaced with laughs and cries of happiness from the crew.

    “CAPTAIN MORGAN, WHAT THE HELL!” roared Russel as he ran up to the awoken Captain and punched him on the arm.

    “who… am… I?” muttered Morgan “who… is… Captain Morgan?”

    Everyone stood back, except Duke who was oblivious to his surroundings and appeared to have fallen asleep, grog spilling from his mouth.

    “Clearly, something happened to Morgan and he appears to have forgotten who he is,” said the Goldhoarder.

    Leonnard and Russel were lost for words and Swimfer had fainted yet again.

    “Where was your last adventure?” said Henry menacingly.
    “We were at Liars Backbone and a strange man with a glowing pendant began speaking with us about some crew.” Said Leonnard “Something like the- “
    “-Forsaken Shores Alliance. The man you spoke to is Stitcher Jim. He cheated me out of some gold once and made a terrible mistake that got him banished from his crew. It must’ve been him who has screwed your captain. The same happened to him when he found a mystical box known as the box of wonderous secrets. I don’t know much about it but you can talk to Madam Oksana. She knows all about this sort of thing.”
    “Thanks, Henry”
    “No problem,”

    As the crew went to leave, Henry stopped them in their paths.

    “Where do you think you’re going!?” Demanded Henry “I haven’t even told you about the treasure I need you to find”
    “Why am I not surprised?” said Leonnard sarcastically
    “My advice doesn’t come free of charge you know. I told you a lot you need to know about your captain” he said “Speaking of your captain, where is he?”
    “That,” said Leonnard “Is a very good question”
    “Um guys… “said Russel
    “Yes Russel,” said Leonnard
    “I think we’ve got an even bigger problem, “said Russel.
    “What could be more important than curing- “Leonnard abruptly stopped speaking so he could take in what he was seeing. Captain Morgan seemed to be having a very tense battle with a tree and had his pistol pointed at the trunk.
    “Captain,” said Leonnard “CAPTAIN, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”
    “This tree is reluctant to move out of my way. IT MUST BE MURDERED IT FOR ITS CRIMES!”
    “’ey Morgan, I fink a swig o’ grog ‘ll do ye some good,” exclaimed Duke who had awoken from his sleep, along with Swimfer who looked worried.
    “I don’t think it will be smart for Captain to start drinking just after he’s woken from his three-day nap, Duke” whispered Swimfer.
    “Good point Swimmy, looks like no Grog for ol’ Morgan then,” replied Duke “Anyone else?”
    “I’ll take a swig.” Chirped Russel excitedly.
    “Alrigh’ then Russel,” said Duke “Mind you, I do drink quite a strong type of grog.”
    “Don’t worry Duke, I can handle anything”

    A few moments later, Russel had painted the walls a horrendous shade of green and yellow and had resided in a dark corner of the cavern where he could be heard belching on the floor of the tavern.

    Leonnard was trying to explain to his captain that the tree wasn’t able to move and there was no point trying to make it move and Swimfer had struck up a conversation with Willow, the local Blacksmith. Leonnard had managed to steer Morgan away from the tree and had sat him down in the tavern. Leonnard walked out feeling very annoyed at the sheer stupidity of the man he once looked up to. He was muttering under his breath when Duke interrupted him.

    “Um, hey Leonnard,” said Duke
    “Yes, Duke.” Replied Leonnard angrily
    “I met some strange crew while I was out sailing,”
    “What do you mean strange?”
    “It was a crew of skeletons sailing a wrecked galleon.”
    “WHAT!”
    “I was just as surprised as you when I saw them. They call themselves ‘The White Death’,”
    “That’s outrageous!”
    “Yeh I know. Well, I was wondering if ye could pu’ em down fer me,”
    “If we are to do this and cure Captain, then we better get something in return,”
    “‘ow’s a dozen doubloons sound,”
    “Why not?”
    “I knew I could count on ye,”
    Duke sat back down at the table and began drinking grog out of the same dirty mug he found.
    “Did he just say the White Death,” said Russel who had come out from the tavern and looked much fresher with Swimfer tailing just behind.
    “Yeah, they’re some sort of skeleton crew terrorising the seas,” said Leonnard.
    “And why are we defeating them?”
    “Because we’re nice”
    “And we’ll get loads of doubloons!” chirped Swimfer.
    A voice from behind made the trio jump.
    “’ey Len, what happened to tha’ favour ye promised,” said Henry in a menacing voice.
    “Why don’t ye go scavenging for yer own loot ye skievin’ scallywag.” Replied Russel in an angry tone.
    “’Cos ‘ow am I gonna give other landlubbers voyages ye rapscallion,” Said Henry “now here’s yer map. Looks to be Liar’s Backbone.”
    “Isn’t that where that weirdo with the pendant is?” said Leonnard.
    “So, it seems, A strange coincidence.”
    “What’s his name?” asked Swimfer.
    “Whose name?” replied Henry.
    “The guy that messed with captain.”
    “Oh, ‘is name is Jim,” Said Henry “Stitcher Jim.”
    “Thanks, Henry,” said Leonnard.
    “Any time Leonnard”
    “Come on crew, we’re off” Said Leonnard to his crewmates. “Russel, go grab Captain Morgan.”

    Russel raced off to grab Captain Morgan and drag him to their ship. With the crew onboard, they set sail south-east from Galleon’s Grave Outpost to Liar’s Backbone, preparing for their encounter with Stitcher Jim. Captain Morgan was asleep in the Captain’s Quarters and Swimfer was posted at the Crow’s Nest in search for enemy crews and the White Death. Leonnard was manning the steering wheel and Russel handling the sails and turning them in favour of the wind.

    A thick fog was rolling in from the south and visibility was growing increasingly difficult and Swimfer had started shouting directions to Leonnard.

    “Head slightly East,” said Swimfer “No, I meant West, no, East” Something had caught the attention of Leonnard.
    “Hey guys, do you see that strange green glow in the distance?” enquired Leonnard.
    “Sorta,” answered Russel “Wait, is that another ship?”
    “EAST, EAST, EAST, MOVE EAST!!!” shouted Swimfer desperately.
    “Swimfer, what do you see?” asked Leonnard.
    “Galleon with skeletons.” Gasped Swimfer “Please don’t say that that is the white Death?”
    “Yep, it’s them,” said Leonnard “Raise the sails and arm the cannons!”
    Russel raised the sails slightly.
    “Russel, take the eastern side of the ship, Swimfer, take the West.” Commanded Leonnard “I’m boarding their ship, Russel, fire me when I say so.”

    Leonnard climbed into one of the cannons and Russel aimed straight at the skeleton crew.
    “NOW!” shouted Leonnard. Leonnard flew over to the ship, cutlass in one hand, pistol in the other and landed graciously on the enemy vessel. He started slashing at the undead horrors while Swimfer and Russel fired cursed cannonballs at the wrecked galleon, causing the undead crew all sort of troubles, but the captain seemed to be immune to all these attacks and was now the only skeleton standing.

    “It’s over, your crew is no more and you are one slash from being taken to Davy Jones.” Said Leonnard
    “HAHA!” laughed the skeleton captain.
    “You find this funny!”
    “Duke sent you didn’t he, that worthless runt”
    “You talk too much, you know that.”
    “So, I have been told.”
    “Well then, any last words?”
    “How’s your Captain?” The skeleton laughed manically as Leonnard blasted him off the ship and into the never-ending seas.
    “Your reign of terror is over,” Said Leonnard triumphantly “sleep well.” Leonnard waved his arms in the air to signal to his crew to hold fire. Russel steered the ship over to Leonnard, who leapt on to the ship and clapped his allies on the back.
    “You guys did well, that’s one less terror in the seas,” said Leonnard “Now off to Liar’s Backbone.”
    “Aye sir!” said Russel and Swimfer in unison.
    After a few hours sailing, the crew finally arrived at the island.
    “We’re here,” said Swimfer
    “Land ahoy,” roared Russel
    “Time to cure our Captain.” Said Leonnard. He went to wake up Morgan from his slumber.
    “Russel and Swimfer, go find the chests that Henry wanted us to dig up.”
    “Come on Swimfer, let’s go.” Said Russel to his smallest crewmate.
    “Aye, sir!”

    Russel and Swimfer bounded off in search of the treasure for the Gold Hoarder. Leonnard had little success in waking his captain so had decided to carry his captain on his shoulders onto the island. Once they stepped on the shores, Leonnard took out his bucket and started splashing water on the resting pirate. Morgan was slowly starting to wake up.

    “Come on, up you get.” Said Leonnard
    “Where are we?” asked Morgan as he surveyed the surroundings.
    “This is where you’ll hopefully get cured and you’ll be back to being our Captain again.”
    “Me, a Captain.” Said Morgan disbelievingly “I don’t think so.”
    “You were a great’ cap’n,” said Russel, emerging from behind the trees carrying a Captain’s chest in his hands. Swimfer had a Marauders Chest in his and they both placed their found loot on the shores.

    “That was quick,” Said Leonnard to the pair.
    “They were beneath our feet at the edge of the shore,” Said Russel “He better pay us, that scallywag.”
    “That is not our main concern right now,” said Leonnard “It’s time to confront Stitcher Jim.”
    “Let’s do this.” Exclaimed Russel.
    “I’m scared.” Said Swimfer.
    “Don’t worry Swimfer, we’ve got yer back.” Said Russel reassuringly and Leonnard nodded.
    “Thanks, guys.” Said Swimfer
    “Let’s get our Captain back!” said Leonnard.

    The team went on a hunt in search of Stitcher Jim. They didn’t have to search long to find their target. Out on the west shore was Stitcher Jim staring through his spyglass at a thick shroud of fog. Leonnard put up his fist as a signal for them to stop moving.

    “I’m going to talk to him,” whispered Leonnard “Russel, sneak up behind Jim with your pistol ready.”
    “Ahoy,” whispered Russel back
    “And Swimfer, keep Captain safe,” whispered Leonnard
    “Aye sir,” said Swimfer “Come on Captain, follow me.” Morgan went to follow Swimfer to a secluded corner close to where Stitcher Jim was standing.
    “Russel, don’t lower your guard.” Said Leonnard “We don’t know what this guy is capable of.”
    “Don’t worry about me Len, I’ve got this.” Said Russel. Leonnard nodded and walked beside Jim.
    “So, what are you looking at?”
    “Woah, didn’t see ya there lad,” said Jim.
    “Well, what are you looking at?”
    “A land beyond the seas,” said Jim mysteriously “A land of peril, mysteries and wondrous secrets.”
    “Tell me about these wondrous secrets.”
    “While I and my crew were sailing the Devil’s Roar,”
    “Sorry did you say Devil’s Roar,”
    “Yes, it is a land of great wonders,”
    “Would these great wonders manage to make someone forget their identity?”
    “I don’t understand the question,”
    “Let me make this easy for you,” said Leonnard “You did something to our Captain and now he has no idea who he is, know anything about that.”
    “He has been given a great gift, he will reap greatness,”
    “Why don’t you take your gift back and maybe you can reap some greatness,”
    “’Fraid I can’t do that,”
    “If you don’t, you’ll off to see Davy Jones,”
    “Woah Woah Woah, thought we were being friendly,”
    “Well, you thought wrong,”
    “You think you can take on me, Stitcher Jim!”
    “I won’t,” said Leonnard “We will!” Russel leapt from behind and kicked Jim to the floor, his pistol pointed straight at Jim’s head.
    “You’re gonna help our cap’n or a shot in the brains is the least you’ll get.”
    “You people play dirty,” said Jim “But so do I.” At that moment, a dozen skeletons emerged from the ground, surrounding the duo.
    “EVERYBODY STOP!” boomed a voice.
    “I’m sorry, I couldn’t stop him.” Panted Swimfer.
    “Captain!” said Leonnard “You’re here”
    “I still don’t understand how I am a captain.” Said Morgan “But I cannot bear to watch you people put so much at risk just to help me.”
    “Because you’re our captain and you’d do the same fer us.” Said Russel.
    “He’s right.” Said Leonnard.
    “Look out.” Cried Swimfer. The skeletons picked up Leonnard and Russel and threw them across the floor.
    “Russel, cutlass ready.” Said Leonnard steadying himself.
    “Let’s get these goons.” Said Russel. The pair slashed at the white terrors until each bone was separate from one another.
    “Now, it’s time to die ya scallywag?” said Russel, cutlass at Jim’s throat.
    “You cannot beat me beat me while I wear this pendant.” Said Jim, pointing at his glowing necklace.
    “Looks like we’ll take it then.” Said Swimfer who had managed to sneak behind Jim and pounce, wrenching the pendant from his neck.
    “Get off me, you insect.” Shrieked Jim, gasping for air. He began grabbing behind, flailing his arms behind him while this was going on the chain was beginning to loosen.
    “Somebody help me,” said Swimfer.
    Russel pointed his pistol at the chain and fired with perfect accuracy. The chain snapped off and flew into Leonnard’s hand.
    “No pendant, no skeletons,” said Leonnard “You’ve got nothing to save you now, so you’re gonna cure our Captain or I’ll feed you to a crested queen.”
    “Ok, ok, you got me,” said Jim “I’ll help you on one condition, send me to Davy Jones.”
    “Gladly,” said Russel, his face glowing.
    “Here goes, your captain must wear the pendant for ten minutes, no more, no less,” said Jim “Then, he has to wash his face three times with the purest sea water and hopefully in an hour he’ll be cured.”
    “And this will definitely work.” Said Leonnard.
    “Why would I lie, I have nothing to gain from lying,” said Jim “I was once a great man but one mistake changed that.”
    “Ok, you heard the man, do what he said and hopefully we’ll get our captain back,” said Leonnard “And Jim, you’re staying in the brig until our captain has been fully cured.”

    Jim reluctantly agreed and for the next two hours, the crew were performing what Stitcher Jim had told them to do. After the process was finished, they allowed Morgan to rest in the Captain’s quarters. The sun was beginning to set when Morgan finally awoke.

    “Hey guys, you here,” said Morgan, who steadily got up from his bed and began to walk around the quarters. Leonnard was the first to notice his captain.
    “Captain, you’re awake, how do you feel?” asked Leonnard.
    “Like I’ve been asleep for two weeks,” said Morgan. “I had the strangest dream, Leonnard, I lost my memory and became the most useless potato in the whole seas.”
    “CAPTAIN!” said Russel, who tackled Morgan to the ground in a bear hug. “Oh, it’s so great to see you,”
    “Where’s Swimfer?” asked Morgan
    “Probably asleep in the crow’s nest.” Said Leonnard.
    “Typical Swimfer.” Said Morgan.
    “I’ve got one thing I’ve got to do though,” Said Leonnard. He ran down to the brig and unlocked the door. He dragged Jim up the stairs to Morgan who pulled out his pistol at the first sight of him.
    “I’m gonna kill you, Jim.” Said Morgan.
    “How was your time away from your – “He stopped midsentence as a bullet flew straight through his chest. A ghostly glow seemed to engulf Jim. He was disappearing from existence and within a matter of seconds, Stitcher Jim was no more.

    “Davy’ll be happy with this one.” Said Morgan. The crew steered back to Galleons Grave Outpost, where a welcoming party that consisted of Duke and Henry were waiting for them.
    “Morgan, yer back!” said Duke grabbing Morgan and giving him a hug. Henry struck out his hand to handshake Morgan.
    “Now where are those chests?” said Henry, gleaming.
    “Are you ever gonna tell us what’s in these chests?” said Leonnard, handing him the chests.
    “Never!” replied Henry.
    “So, did you defeat the White Death?” asked Duke
    “With ease.” Said Russel.
    “Did you just say White Death?” said Morgan.
    “Yeah, they’re a crew completely made up of skeletons.” Said Swimfer.
    “What did I miss while I was asleep?” asked Morgan.
    “To be honest, not much.” Said Leonnard.
    “This is cause fer celebration!” said Duke. The outpost was alive that evening with singing and dancing. Grog was drunk and shanties were sung that night in the tavern, however, at the shore of the outpost, a hand emerged from the sand, clutching a glowing pendant…

    The End

    Email: zubairahmed2b@outlook.com

    I wrote this tale as a story about an adventure that doesn't really happen in the Sea of Thieves game. It doesn't follow the story of a voyage as I thought it would be quite boring. I felt as if the word limit was too restricting but I was able to put something together. I spent a lot of time creating this and I hope I win. Good luck to everyone who entered and I'll see you in the seas.

    P.S: The slang was used on purpose to emphasise how pirates speak. :)

  • The Day I Finally Became a Pirate (#AthenasFortuneContest)

    Log Entry, Day 1

    My Dearest Elisa,

    I have finally arrived at my destination. The trip to this exotic locale was harrowing...but we made it. The crew of this vessel is a tough bunch, though their character is wanting (honestly, who needs to imbibe that often, and the smell!) I’m afraid there’s no accounting for taste. I have a great deal to do, but I hope to write you again soon. The Ancient Isles are breathtaking. I pray you and Jacob are safe and well.

    Yours Forever,

    Anthony


    Log Entry, Day 8

    Dear Elisa,

    Gracious, where do I start? This past week has been a whirlwind. Upon reaching our outpost I checked in with Mildred, the Senior Trader of the local merchant alliance who helped me get my paperwork in order. She’s a kind old soul, and I expect I will learn a great deal as her apprentice. There are so many sailors coming and going each day, it’s a wonder we have enough crates for all of their contracts! I will send funds soon.

    Yours Forever,

    Anthony


    Log Entry, Day 22

    Dear Elisa,

    I’m sorry it has been a fortnight since my last letter. Ever since I received your communication about little Jacob I’ve been absolutely frantic. The merchant alliance pays well, but even if I doubled the number of contracts I issued the money wouldn’t come fast enough for us to afford the medicine! Blasted disease!! I will think of something. There has to be a way…

    Yours,

    Anthony


    Log Entry, Day 24

    My Dearest Elisa,

    I believe I have a solution to our problem! Yesterday night I was in the tavern, head in my hands, when I was approached by a man named Herbert. He’s a liaison for a group who call themselves the Gold Hoarders. Apparently there is treasure buried all around these lands, and they have procured maps for a few of them. I didn’t know if I should trust him, but at that time I didn’t feel like I had any other choice. I told him of our plight, about poor Jacob, and he took pity on me. Elisa, he gave me a map free of charge. I was so overjoyed I reached out to embrace him but he stopped me and stuck out a hand…one…single…gold-encrusted…hand. We shook and he left me by the fireplace, returning to his tent (presumably to count the days earnings by lamplight).

    I stayed there for a time. Honestly, I don’t know how long but as the fire beside me began to dim a new sense of purpose ignited in my chest. Parchment in hand, I began striding towards the shipwright to see if I could procure a vessel when Madame Olwen cut me off. We hadn’t spoken much in my time here so this was quite a turn of events. She works for the Order of Souls you see, a group who deals in information and gleans secrets from the departed through some mystical means. Really not my cup of tea, especially because I’ve seen some rougher types trading her skulls for payment. Apparently she had overheard my conversation with Herbert and, knowing a bit about his trade, informed me that the map I was carrying likely wouldn’t amount to much. I began to protest but she cut me off, pointing to Herbert’s tent and holding a finger to her lips as she motioned me to come into her shop with her free hand. Begrudgingly, I did so. It was then that she let me in on a few “secrets”.

    Apparently this outpost and many others are located in an area colloquially known as the “Sea of Thieves”. Those ruffians I saw Elisa…they were pirates! Apparently they have some kind of system worked out for trading gold for those skulls but I nearly fainted at the thought of those bloodthirsty scoundrels and missed the finer details. I do remember the next part though with crystal clarity. It would seem that in this bizarre land, the dead return to life. Skeletons roam the islands, and they have a few strongholds stocked with immeasurable riches. These strongholds were once abandoned forts across the Sea of Thieves but now they’re clamoring with undead souls who will do anything to keep their treasure safe. One piece worth more than the rest is a skull with green, glowing gemstones set in the eye sockets. If I were to retrieve that and bring it to her or one of her colleagues…Elisa, she said they would pay me 40 times what I would get for Herbert’s chest!!

    I thanked her profusely for her kindness as well as the information but she was quick to wave this off. As I turned to leave her shop and embrace the night air I heard something hit the table behind me. Staring me down was a skull, its bone turned grey and a green glow emanating from where its eyes once were.

    “Follow the wind to the skull in the sky. That will be where your treasure lies” she said ominously.

    I gulped, if I’m being honest Elisa, but I regained my composure quick enough to nod before leaving to gather the weapons and equipment I needed for the journey. Jacob is going to have his medicine, Elisa. I swear it.

    Yours,

    Anthony


    Log Entry, Day 32

    Elisa,

    The Sea of Thieves is a terrible, beautiful, wondrous place. In the time since I last wrote you I’ve made the acquaintance of a man named Thomas. He’s a regular down by the docks but doesn’t make much…something about not having enough supplies for his pigs. Anyway, after a short conversation I learned that he was eager to make some quick money and I showed him the voyage I got from Herbert. Thomas has a modest sloop, and once I was off work we agreed to meet and chart the course.

    It was dark by the time Mildred let me leave (she’s a tough one, that Mildred) but after gathering my weapons and equipment I met up with Thomas on his ship. Our destination was a place called Rapier Cay, and as Olwen had predicted there was one “X” on our map. We set sail and headed northwest, and after two days we saw it: the skull in the sky. Luck was clearly on my side because it was in the same direction we were heading. I explained what Madame Olwen had told me to Thomas and his jaw dropped. As far as he was concerned, Rapier Cay was no more. Nothing could possibly top this “Skullfort”.

    Anthony


    Log Entry, Day 35

    Elisa,

    The winds have shifted. As we approached this Skullfort (once Keel Haul Fort) Thomas spied a galleon heading toward us from Snake Island; sails full billow, flying the Jolly Roger.

    “Pirates” I muttered through gritted teeth.

    Without a second thought I instructed my mate to take the wheel and keep a safe distance. As he circled the fort and fired his cannons I jumped ship in an attempt to make my way to some shallow rocks. I regret to say that the fight didn’t last long. Once they closed the distance that galleon of swashbucklers made quick work of Thomas and his ship. I fear I’ll never get his screams out of my head…

    As the sun went down and the pirates docked their ship next to the fort I lay completely still. I must have hidden there for five minutes, but in that moment it felt like hours. Slowly, carefully, I made my way over to their vessel and climbed the ladder. No sooner had my feet hit their deck when I heard something rustle behind me.

    I froze, terrified to turn around. Then, I heard a splash as someone jumped off the back of the ship. The fear of being spotted was gone now, but the fear of being discovered quickly took its place. Frantically, I scampered up to their crow’s nest to hide. Minutes pass, then another sloop appears shouting “WE’RE FRIENDLY!”

    My memory of the details here aren’t the best Elisa but somehow the two ships managed to form an accord, working on the fort together. Well, everyone but one of the pirates who kept pacing the ship with his gun drawn. After demolishing many waves of skeletons I see one of the sloop crew climbing to their crow’s nest to drop off a gunpowder keg. Just as he reaches the top and drops the barrel off the galleon turns slightly from some waves and his view of me becomes eclipsed by the mast.

    “Phew”, I exhale. That was a close one.

    Suddenly, a loud horn rings out over the sea and the ship guard jumps overboard to help.

    “Now’s my chance” I say as I jump out of the crow’s nest. After hitting the ground I hobble my way through the empty captain’s quarters and out the side door, eating banana after sweet banana. I lie down in the right-side crook below the bubbled glass window and begin my vigil.

    BANG

    The clap of gunpowder exploding rings out as the sloop begins to sink and the stench of betrayal hangs thick in the air. After dispatching the two trusting sloopers, the galleon crew begins filling their ship with treasure. First the stronghold items, then a villainous bounty skull. Next, one…two…three crates of exquisite spices?! Well, their luck wasn’t going to last long. After loading everything on board, one of the more experienced crew members begins organizing the loot. This goes on for longer than I care to say, Elisa, and was followed by a great deal of posing, jeering, and alcoholic celebration.

    Finally, they raise their anchor and began the short trek back to Sanctuary Outpost to sell their ill-gotten gains. When they were close enough to the island the captain ordered everyone to their stations.

    “It’s now or never” I say to myself in an attempt to stave off the fear. Slowly, I get up and creep toward the door.

    “NO!” I shout in my head, reeling back in silence.

    In front of me was another crew member, previously hidden from my view just inside the door looking forward. Luckily, they hadn’t seen me. Elisa…I drew my cutlass, crept around the corner, and unleashed a flurry of blows. Their shrieks rang through the room, and in that moment of chaos I grabbed the green-eyed skull.

    Adrenaline has taken me over. I begin bobbing and weaving my way to the Order of Souls tent as my pursuers attempt to strike me down. Quickly, I exchange the skull for my coin but not a moment after I feel a sharp pain in my chest. As I look down my shirt turns a crimson red and my body grows cold.


    Log Entry, Day ???

    I...don’t know where I am.
    What...what is this place?
    Am I dead?
    I can't be dead! I have too much to do!
    Jacob! JACOB!!

    "QUIET DOWN YOU BILGE RAT!"

    Who are you?

    "I'm the Ferryman. Pirates like you end up on my ship all the time."

    Pirates…like me? But I’m a merchant!

    “Not anymore you’re not lad! All your deeds show up in my log whenever you drop in for a visit. You killed someone in cold blood and then stole their most valuable piece of loot.”

    What happens now?

    “Well, that’s up to you. In a few seconds that door is gonna open and you can walk back into the world you knew or you can stay here. I really hope you don’t choose the latter, if I’m being honest."

    So, I get a second chance…

    “They don’t make ‘em like they used to, do they? Yes, you get a second chance. Don’t push your luck though, because one day my door might not open again. You hear me?!”

    But Anthony did not hear him, not one word. He had gotten his taste of wild, unbridled freedom and he was dead to the world around him. Another pirate had forever joined the Sea of Thieves.

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