Ahoy there! Captain Cayde back in the tavern to tell the tale of the greatest pirate interaction my good eye has ever seen!
There we were, ol' Gran and I, along with two other crewmen, one being our silty Bard and the other our hard-working, Asian fellow Mister Phil. We saw the beckoning Skull of the Skies, eyes lit with mesmerizing fury, and decided to clear out the skellies who had taken up bonafide residence below. A few bellowing blunderbusses and clashing cutlasses later, we held our conquering key aloft in wearied jubilation. As the fort shuddered in anticipation, revealing its heart's trove, sails arose on the horizon in haste, sending a ship to contest our spoils.
Shouting a plan, we bounded aboard carrying only the most valuable of possessions. Gran, cooking up her usual special, grabbed the mega keg and made for the rear of the island. I took the helm and circled in an attempt to lead them to where the dear soul would be awaiting them beneath the waves.
Unfortunately, this is where the plan went wrong but the adventure went right.
The ship refused to cooperate, leaving poor Gran bobbing, keg in hand, with nothing to destroy. She forced her tired old bones to carry her back to the fort to await retrieval, offering to stay behind and perhaps guard what treasure remained. What happened next she did not expect.
As she watched her ship sail away, a healthy pursuit in tow, she climbed a nearby watchtower to hide away the keg she carried. A shot rang out, from somewhere, though she could not tell the direction. She was standing aloft in the tower, keg nestled calmly beside her when suddenly a figure emerged calling out for a truce.
"LET'S FORM AN ALLIANCE!" he yelled up at her.
Gran scratched her chin. "You've got no boat! I haven't a boat either." She glanced around, wondering if this strange man knew of the destructive power placed at her feet. "Go away!"
"LET'S FORM AN ALLIANCE!" he called again. "Truce! I'm Coolero!" And with that, he began to climb the ladder.
"BACK!" cried Gran, drawing her cutlass. "Coolero! You stay where you are!" She furiously swiped at the top of the ladder, causing him to stop mid-climb. There they stood at a stalemate.
"LET'S FORM AN ALLIANCE!" came once more, with a continued ascent.
Gran's viperous arm struck, sending Coolero tumbling to the ground below. "Stay where you are!" She raised her cutlass, a pointed finger of warning. "You listen to me, Coolero. You stay where you are or I will have to kill you." Eyeing the mega keg beside her, she knew she had all the power she needed to make true her vow. But deep in her rotten heart, she knew she did not want to hurt this poor, enthusiastic man.
Coolero dashed up the path and into the bushes. Gran looked to the horizon, hope kindled as she spied a set of familiar sails.
"Shouldn't be long now," she said to herself as she looked back down the ladder to see Coolero preparing to climb again.
"AHOY! LET'S FORM AN ALLIANCE!" He started to climb.
"I will make you a deal," Gran began. "Rumors say there will soon be pets on the sea, but for now, YOU can be my pet! What do you say to that, Coolero!?" She realized she had grown rather fond of him and thought a good mascot he might make for the crew.
"AYE!" he called! "LET'S FORM AN ALLIANCE!"
"Perfect!" called Gran. "Now, you stay down."
He started to climb.
"DOWN BOY! Bad Coolero!" She swiped her cutlass against the ladder in a warning. "Bad!" He slowly crept upward. "Stay!" Another slash and Coolero went straight back to the ground where he began.
This exchange continued for several more minutes as the ship approached.
Falling yet again, Coolero seemed disappointed that, regardless of his enthusiasm toward their friendship, Gran refused to allow him near. Gran, on the other hand, was quite content with their current standing.
"We are going to have to look into some obedience training," she mumbled as she watched Coolero bound away, only this time it was not up the path but to the adjacent tower. "Now what is that boy doing this time?" No sooner than she uttered the question she had her answer.
There stood Coolero in the tower, a mirrored image of his new owner. Only his tower had a cannon facing Gran. With an enthusiastic wave, he loaded a cannonball.
"No! No! No! Coolero!" shouted Gran as she grabbed the mega keg and sprinted toward the other side of the tower. In a leap mixed with faith and desperation, she careened out of the tower and into the writhing waters below. Deep she swam, hoping to avoid any unwanted, and unwarranted, cannon fire.
Not long afterward, Gran climbed back aboard, shoving away the happy crew who attempted to greet her. She drew her spyglass, searching the towers for her new pet. Disappointment leaked into the hole Coolero shot into the hull of her heart.
"Glad to have you back, Gran," I said with my usual captain smile. "Were you bored waiting for our return?"
She lowered the spyglass. "Lower the sails. The sooner we leave, the better."
