My spouse and I were nearing the end of an Athena voyage. Even on nights we decide to focus on voyages we are always open for where the wind takes us. Even though we like sailing a sloop with just the two of us, we also like making alliances. Not for sharing the rewards, but for the pleasure of playing together with others. We also can have a lot of fun also sailing with allies under the Jolly Roger. It is the potential to meet and make new friends no matter how the sea may be calling to us at the time that can make alliances worth it.
It was a very quiet evening. We were just a few stops away from getting to dig up our Chest of Legends. There had been no other ships spotted until a galleon turned our way under the glow of moonlight. We were sailing with our lights on as they were. As any pirate worth their salt we did not alter our course to our next destination. We simply kept a watchful eye on them as we assumed they were on us.
With no fear of having to evade them and curiosity of wondering what type of encounter might be coming our way, the galleon closed in aligning their sails to follow in line behind us. We slowed our pace to allow them to get within shouting range with our speaking trumpets. They spoke first. They said they were happy to see another ship and wanted to make an alliance. However, they pleaded that we needed to stop in order to do so. There was a small island with a few pillar like rock formations just off our bow. We raised our sails and slowed to a stop around the far end of the island.
The galleon crew was slow to raise their sails despite the desperate commands of their captain. They dropped their anchor late plowing straight into the opposite end of the island, their ship resting in frame by the rocks. The captain, we assumed as he was the one giving the orders to the crew, said they needed to repair their ship. One of their crew not realizing we could hear them and out of their anxiousness to carry out their true intentions, asked "can we go kill them now". The captain replied no, help repair the ship first.
We waited till they made their repairs and returned to the upper deck. The captain shouted that they were coming over to greet us. I lowered our sails and our trusty little sloop moved forward. I took helm as my spouse asked for a good firing window. I guided our sloop around the island. The starboard cannon belched out a carefully aimed cannonball causing the galleon crew to spin on their heels and run to their ship. It did not matter. The cannonballs continued, needling between the rocks landing true. As each one did in succession until we had spun all the way around filling the galleon up with holes on both sides. The last we heard before we sailed on to finally collect some skellie captain heads was "I told you there are toxic players. They are probably Pirate Legends."
That brings this story to the second galleon we encountered at the end of our voyage that night. We were sailing back to turn in our last glorious haul for the evening. A galleon approaches in the distance towards us from our starboard side. As they close in someone shouts out that we needed to drop anchor and be prepared to be boarded. That our lives would be spared if we handed over all that we had onboard and agreed to be their slaves. No slip of intentions this time.
Knowing what our answer was going to be nothing needed to be said to each other. My spouse raised the sails as I turned to meet their demands, or so we wanted them to think. Facing each other we drifted towards one another. I had turned the ship wide across the path of their bow to come up along side them at a safe distance. Requiring the galleon crew to traverse the space between us and keep us within good firing range. Before our ships slowed to a stop across from one another the galleon dropped anchor.
A member of their crew climbs into a cannon at the same time. Another crew member aims that cannon and fires it as a third climbs into their rowboat hanging off their stern. The fired crew member soars flailing overhead to land in a splash. The rowboat drops into the water with a kerplunk and a person onboard. A cannonball misses as my spouse drops sail before running to our cannon. We had both assumed without a word spoken that we would give them our answer as they attempted to climb onboard. The wind now said otherwise.
Our trusty sloop once again smoothly turned at my light coaching spinning the wheel. I spun our sloop around the galleon as every shot from our cannon splintered their hull and sent the crew onboard to meet the Ferryman. We made a perfect circle around the galleon and continued looping. We continued giving them our inventory of cannonballs as requested. I am sure it was not exactly what was requested and most certainly not how. We were still very generous. At the end of our second spin around the galleon, it turned belly up and sunk to the soothing deep below.
I kept us in a loop to see what might float to the surface. The crew was climbing into the rowboat they had planned to use to shuttle our well earned booty to their ship. Being the pirates we are, we Never Say Die and we Never Surrender. We set forth for no king's orders or anyone else who shall attempt to force their rule upon us. Therefore we looped our sloop around one more time, this time around their rowboat. We watched as chests were being loaded aboard. As we spun around towards being off the bow of their rowboat, my spouse shot the only cannonball that missed both galleons that night. The person standing in the front of the rowboat proclaimed "you missed". Which was quickly followed with "no you didn't" as the following volley hit and sank their wooden life preserver.
I then righted our ship in the direction of the outpost we were heading towards before being greeted by a second galleon. We turned in our chest and headed to the tavern. We proceeded with getting drunk on grog to celebrate before logging off.
Moral of the story? Never assume because you are in a galleon that a sloop cannot open a barrel of whoop.
