@monsieur-hamuro I really like your ending. Thats a good story. And don't be worried abour typos, we are all only humans :D
What's Your Pirate's Backstory? Mk II
@anubis0311
Trying to think of something, but write ups never were my strength, especially in english.@thor-von-blitz I bet you will, I could do it by myself. If you need assistance, PM me. I may not be the best translator when it comes to pirate english, but will do my very best.
@katttruewalker said in What's Your Pirate's Backstory? Mk II:
You sound like the sort o' pirate it'd be good to sit down with in a tavern and share a jar or two o' grog :D
What, are ye buyin'? ;)
Thanks for resurrecting the threat, @KattTruewalker . I've updated mine a bit, but here it is:
My name is Christoffer Frands. Or, it was. They call me “Weaver” now. The high-societal name of Frands means little to me now. As a boy, I spent half my time working as a printer’s devil, the other half listening to Danish and Spanish folklore (from my father’s and mother’s heritages, respectively). My brother Albert joined the Royal Navy, and my father sent me to university in London. Formally I was to study astronomy. Informally I studied poetry, plays, and literature. I took to John Milton, the blind idyllist. I envied Don Quixote and his fevered adventures. I longed to escape the stifling institutions and privileged world I grew up in. I longed for the sea, with its oceanic theater and quests. But most of all, I longed to create my own stories. I wrote my first novel then; one critic called it “a tale about the sea, clearly written by a man unacquainted with the sea.” He was right. I needed true material.
Without word to my family, I left university and found a place aboard the Charybdis, a merchant vessel, which, unknown to me, was captained by the pirate Vandal Red, disguised as Captain John Rosso; she was truly penitent of her past deeds, however. My education made me an ideal navigator, but my true occupation was that of listener, drinking up the tales of aged mariners, some of them former pirates. They taught me the value of not shooting others until fired upon—an infrequent moral compass in some waters. I first set foot on the Charybdis at the age of 22, and I rarely left the ship for 16 years.
After an argument at sea, one of the former pirates betrayed the captain’s disguise, and despite our honest work, all aboard the Charybdis were caught and imprisoned by the Royal Navy, my brother Albert among the fleet. Mistaken for a pirate at the age of 38, I languished for 11 years on Errol’s Jewel, an island for captured buccaneers. I was a man of mature years when we finally escaped, empty of all qualms against occasional piracy and full of disdain for established society.
I have stayed to the high seas for many years since. My beard is white now, my skin permanently cracked from the sea winds, my journals full of tales. I’ve never felt the need to exaggerate my stories—the sea-faring lifestyle has a way of attracting the most tantalizing of drama. But I cannot help if my legend becomes mythic in proportion. You may have heard of me, Milton “Weaver” Spear, the Bitter Bard of Star-Saint Cliff. “Weaver would kill his own kin for a good story,” some have said, but I didn’t mean for my brother to fall off his boat, nor did I realize that the bay was full of sharks. But I will do almost anything for an interesting story. A little maritime immorality is a fair price for piratical immortality. My tales often precede me, and they will live on long after I do.
I will teach any young pirate the ropes and the stories he or she needs to succeed on the sea, and I am more pleasant than the moniker “Bitter Bard” implies . . . until fired upon, that is. And you may still want to guard your treasure.
The name Erinome is one that holds different meanings to different people. Some know him as the merrymaker, the one who brings gifts, the stowaway, the musician, the drunk, the wailing sailor, the poltergeist, the thief and sometimes a ruthless killer. A walking contradiction some might call him, as you never quite know what he might do. From whence this man came is unknown, what motivates him unclear, why he sails is a mystery.
All that is known is that he honours the flickering lantern, loves to play music and is loyal to the friends he has made in his long life. Some think that his only goal in life is to make merry and enjoy life. You'll never quite know what this old coot is going to do when you see him on the ocean. All you should know is his strange personal code "if thy do not honour the light, thy will encounter a fight"
Ye be wanting a ghost story then...
The Stray...
Long time ago, off the shores of what is now Ocracoke Island, a young sailor by the name of Rion Noctovis was sailing his sloop through the choppy waves of the Atlantic. He was born in a coastal town in North Carolina and was the son of couple of Fishmongers. The town was known for being a pirate’s haven but did do business with other type of sailors. So, fishbone and fish based products were quite the necessity, as it was expected of such a town.
Not wanting to be in the family business himself, he wanted to find a way to get off land into the sea. He had built it himself out of the wreckage that was coming ashore from all the Navy and Pirate ships that had been destroyed in the past year. He used it to help his family catch fish and gave him an excuse to play pirate. That day, he'd finally received his figurehead, a wolf, placed on his sloop. The Snow Wolf, he called his ship, as he was always sailing alone and the ship was painted white, as coloured paint was hard come by and he could always "borrow" paint from the kids painting the fences in town. He had found this piece on the sand on his way to the ship.
He also found something else, a ring. Well, a ring and a hand made of bone. Must have been a pirate’s hand but that wasn't out of the ordinary. The ring was gold, and had a blue sapphire laden into it. He, being a man of 17, decided to keep it incase he ever found a lass he wanted to marry. He tended to think about these things and how most girls around him hated the smell he had. He wished upon the ring that he’d find the perfect girl one day and placed it upon a piece of string that he hung from his neck.
The days past. Rion went out at sunrise, played pirate and scavenged for treasure on a daily basis, getting lucky every so often, and returning at sunset with nets in tow with the catch of the day in them. One fated day, he went out and noticed someone had pulled into the port. A ship... a pirate ship... he dropped his nets in his boat and ran to go gawk at it. Pirates would dock here for supplies as the routes did cross and the governor wasn’t a fan of the Royals. He’d already made friends with a certain Black Bearded man by the name of Edward. That being said, Rion made his way to the ship and looked on it in awe.
The ship had 3 long masts and was made of what looked like a type of redwood. The sheets were white and had a black line through the middle of the mainsail. The flag flying high above them was one of two sickles and a rat. The Maroon Marauder. This was Captain Wright’s ship. He heard the crew on deck talking and laughing as they moved about. He wished he could be on that ship. “Don’t.. “ a voice said to him, “Don’t go there..” He looked around wildly, his hand was already on the rungs to go up to the dock. He back down the rungs and shook off the feeling he was being watched. “I’ll check it out later.” He muttered, confused and went back to his sloop.
He finished his day on the water, the voice still concerning him as he noticed that the Maroon Marauder was already gone. He cursed the voice. “Why did you stop me?” He felt a warmth come from his chest, no.. just a warmth.. A burning sensation... he pulled the ring out from his shirt and noticed it was glowing. The blue sapphire was now clear and he held it up in the moonlight, as something seemed to be moving inside of it. He stared and gawked, as a inside of the sapphire was a beautiful woman. She looked at him, her eyes were a darkened green with hair like the colour of a crackling flame. “You... must help.. “ She whispered. It sounded to him like she was right near him. Was it her hand he found? “Help.. how.. Why should I help?” She looked at him through the glass.. “Avenge me.. They killed me.. on my wedding day“ He stared at her, and for the first time noticed the inscription on the ring....
-For Laura, forever shall we be together. Capn. Wright-
Laura.. What a beautiful name... “Thank you... “ the voice said. He apparently had said that outloud. “He killed me.. and... “ Rion heard an explosion come from the town. He placed the ring back in his shirt and ran as fast as he could. Cannons were being fired. Screaming and crying from the townspeople as he ran towards his home. “Mother.. Father.. “ He reached were the fishmongers house was, but to no avail. He fell to his knees in front of the shop. Fire was engulfing the old building.
The town was ablaze. He ran about town to see if anyone had escaped. Hoping to see his parents about. He helped anyone that could be helped and urged them to go to the water. As he helped, he looked to the water, and saw the crimson ship, just off shore. The Maroon Marauder. Smoke still was rising from their cannons as they turned from the shore. He did this. He killed my friends and family. The ring burned again, he lifted it up out of his shirt. “I’m.. sorry.. “ She said. “I shall remain... “ He look into the ring. “We will find vengeance...” She looked at him and gave a haunting grin.. “Then we shall be sailing partners then.. “ She lit up the stone with energy and manifested herself before him for the first time. She wore a wedding dress and a ghostly chill filled the shore. Her hair billowed from her shawl. “Do we have an accord?”
Years past and even now, Rion.. now known as The Stray... is looking for the man who killed his family and destroyed his home. He was picked up by Edward that day. The man had found him on the shore, in his sloop. He taught him the ways of being a gentleman and taught the ways of pirating. Even gave the boy his first crew and ship, calling it the same as his old sloop, The White Wolf. His figurehead from the old ship adorning the new one. He is feared among his enemies but no greater ally could you find in the fishmonger's son, who came from the shores of North Carolina. Laura remains with him, around his neck and occasionally, it is said, standing beside him in battle, giving off a ghostly glow.
Together, they have become quite the vengeful spirits.
“Hey matey, you are new here, aren’t ya? Great, I’m Circle. Red Circle. That’s what they call me. What's my real name you ask? I don’t know. Where do I come from? I don’t know that either. According to my dialect: Germany, probably. As to why I'm called Red Circle and don’t know my name, now that’s a question I can answer. Here, take a seat and listen to my story.
This tale starts on a boat: the Jigsaw. Why on this boat? In all honesty, it's because of grog. Have you ever drunk so much grog that you had to vomit? Ok, maybe you have, but let’s say you drank 20 times more alcohol. I’m honestly glad that I survived it. Well, now I am fine, unlike the day I woke up, believe me. The ship’s doctor said he found me between some barrels, I was grateful for his kindness. He told me that he was surprised that my body still worked how it was supposed to, and jokingly suggested I should be glad that I only lost my memories. Which I am not, of course. The captain I worked under, Numerious, wanted me to work two days later, during which I mostly slept. Turns out my muscles remembered a lot (I worked on a ship before, probably), so I didn’t have to learn that much, except for the terms, of course.
You ask why I’m called Red Circle, why I chose that name... Well, everyone needs a name for the quartermaster to shout angrily. It all started when Captain Numerious taught me how to work as a navigator. While the navigator used a compass to draw the circles he needed to determine our current position, I was able to draw them perfectly freehand, without the need of one. Numerious was so impressed that he wanted my circles in the log. He gave me a red pencil, which would distinguish my plotting from the blue pencil that the compass used. While I drew some, the first mate came in. He saw what I was doing, paused for a moment, and then said: “Hey, Red Circle. I need you.” A storm approached, and he needed me outside. I looked up to Numerious. He looked back, smiled and said: “Go, Circle. Go”. That's my story, and my name, at least as far as I can remember.
Well, you probably noticed that this isn’t the Jigsaw, hmm? There's a very good reason: The Jigsaw sank. There was a very long fight, full of flying cannonballs and dying pirates. But in the end, we lost. I, for instance, was badly wounded. It was an intense fight we had on the upper deck. After five minutes of an honorable duel, which felt like an eternity, my opponent cut off my left hand. I fell down, screaming due to the stinging pain, and was quickly covered by a dying mate who got spiked by one of the attackers. I bandaged my hand with a piece of his coat to the best of my ability, which prevented me from bleeding out. They blew up our ship, which lead to me falling into the water.
I thought that this would be the second time in my life I would have an encounter with Death, and this time, he would take me with him. I managed to pull myself on a piece of floating wood. Two days later, and after nearly starving to death, the ship of the Assassin King appeared on the horizon. I screamed for help, and I screamed hell out of my lungs at that. Luckily, he saw a fellow pirate in need of aid, and picked me up. Long story short, without thinking about it twice, I joined his crew, we had some rough adventures, and after some time I became his first mate.”
“Yeah, he is damn right,” said Captain King. “You can all be glad to have heard that story, he doesn’t tell it often. Now get back to work, landlubbers.”
After my long story, the ship sailed for a few weeks, until it finally arrived to Isla de la Juventud. When we scouted the island, two caves were found, and the crew split up into two groups: The one half with the Assassin King headed to the center, while the other half, under my command, went to the northern cave. Our group searched for hours, but to no avail, as our cave seemed rather empty, so I told my fellow pirates to head back to the Assassin King. I walked behind them with my lantern, and was the last to leave the cave, so was the only one who saw it: The nameplate of the ship that sank the Jigsaw. I only recognized it because my lantern’s flame was flickering in the direction of a gap in which the name sat. While I wondered what it was doing there, I saw the rest of the ship. It had been absolutely destroyed a long time ago. While I know it was well-deserved, I wanted to know how this tragedy had befallen it.
While I examined the ship's remains, I saw a long tentacle coming out of the water and heard it slam strongly against the cave wall. There was a rumble, I ran out and the gap was sealed perfectly by falling rocks behind me. I turned back to my comrades, but they had already left the cave. While I closed the lines, I decided not telling them about the strange, maybe imaginary, event. Which was a good decision, because as for the cave at the center, there was a strange riddle to be uncovered, which included precisely a Kraken. Let’s just say I will always watch out for this beast, but knowing my crew, there's nothing that could possibly stand in our way, not even the mythical Kraken itself.
When you want to read something about the Assassins King and his part in this journey, take a look
hereStill there? Good. So you can read my little P.S.: This backstory is the result of 3 days of hard work from @AssassinsKing98 and me. So a very, very big thank you, my friend. It wouldn’t be the same without your great advice and edits.
A little tag-message:
First, my Let’s-get-drunken-crew: @Wonkas-Factory, @CptnCuttlefish and @medowiemauler. Looking forward to have a great time with you all.
Then, some other mateys I hope to crew up with and want to make sure they read my story: @its-stoobs, @zombie-p1ague, @dark-shadow9056, @WhenKoalasattak It‘s pleasure to know you all, thanks for making me smile very time I see your name popping up on my screen.
@Musicmee and @KattTruewalker, I like you both, so you now have to read this. If we ever meet on the high see, make sure to remember me and my story :D@jcmdeadpool no problem mate! It brings me pleasure and joy to be able to help any scallywags in need, and especially with writing. It must be thanks to my "noble origins" lol. See ye on the high seas my friend, and btw no need for me to be the captain all the time in the Sea of Thieves ;)
@jcmdeadpool said in What's Your Pirate's Backstory? Mk II:
@its-s****. Ye saw I got that notification thing working? Hm? :)
Aye, It be like Christmas :P
@katttruewalker That is a very interesting story, and a MUCH better background than most other female characters in fiction. A lot have a problem with either being too weak and needing to be saved a lot, or they are upright cocky and rude. Your character has a motive and worked her way through all the rough to where she is now.
Anyways for my character.
Kalvin Chester (Aka Cheating Pirate) was born in an unnamed city in 1706, but orphaned at a very young age. Upon coming at the age of 15, he was able to come onto a merchant trader sloop to see the world, and to find himself a fancy lass to call a bride [ Like most men ;) ] but only the former was achieves thus far. He kept sailing this sloop with a few others around the Caribbean, making a profit (mainly by smuggling rum and tobacco) and being content with their lives.... that is until 1722, where one Edward Low captured the sloop off Rhode Island, killed his long time friend, and took the ship for himself. Last thing Kalvin heard before jumping off the ship was Edward's cry of war to the world, thus Kalvin did the same vow towards Low
After washing up ashore on the island, he found himself in the deal of a life time. Becoming a privateer and hunting Pirates for the British. Kalvin, brimming with delight, took on the offer and hunted the pirates (But only kept half of the gained loot.) He took down a few smaller pirates, but his main goal was Low. He was hell bent on tracking him down... until he heard word that Low's ship, the Rose Pink, sunk off Surinam. When he got there, he only found a sunken ship with it's rations and loot still on it. he was warm on the trail but lost again as Low took another sloop to only God knows where (Did I mention Kalvin is Christian?)
Anyways, the trail went cold for another year, still scouting the seas for pirates. But it all took a turn for when the british man-o-war Greyhound chasing the Fancy, Low's new galleon, and with the Ranger with her captain Harris. Kalvin, the cheater he is, charged at them with guns ready. He went to ram the Fancy but was unsuccessful, and rammed into the Ranger. He did fire a few gunshots at the Fancy but nothing too damaging. At least he made progress, disabling Harris' ship and got their loot........ until the Greyhound thought what Kalvin did was an act of piracy and arrested him. Kalvin did show his privateering license (I swear Kidd had this) and got his ship back, but with a lingering thought. "Why would they see me as a pirate?"
After that, he did get another whiff of Low's trail, hearing Rumors of Low being abandoned on the ship Merry Christmas by Brazil. He sailed the fastest he could, and alas the galleon started sailing to the south. The cheater decided to give chase, expecting a fight. How ever, he was in shock as the Merry Christmas didn't come back at him, but fleeing, with a valuable hold and no preparations to fight. Now beaming with his determination, he kept giving chase, until the galleon turned South East, and into a storm. Kalvin kept giving chase nonetheless, making sure he could still see the sails. But eventually, it grew dark and holes going into the hull, and unable to see the ship. He pointed his bow against the waves, dropped anchor, and raised the sail. He repaired his ship, no longer being beaten by the waves, and bailed the water until the storm passed the next few hours. Among the sun setting, he survived the storm, and started sailing along the coast to try and catch up with him. Eventually, he found the ship... with only the top main sail out of the water. Low, and all of his crew, went down with their loot of 150,00 gole, which Kalvin took as payment of his dear friend's life.
As he was beyond Happy and thanking the Lord for all he did, another British privateer engaged him, determined to take his loot and to t***t him as a pirate. Kalvin did escape the engagement, and fled to the Bahamas. Now wanted as a pirate, he feared going back to the british for fear of being hung. He decided then, that since the British tried to take him twice, and no longer having purpose as a privateer, he decided.... "Maybe, I should become a pirate after all."
("Pirates get the girls anyways, so I could find a fine lass easier :D")
((This was also partially based off true story. mix of fiction too. Ed Low was a real pirate))
The names deadloc. They call me deadloc because of my dreadlocks and how skeleton skinny I am. They say I look undead.. and I didn't always used to be a pirate.. No.. I was a humble... er.. herb farmer... Well one day while I was mindin' my own damn business, tending to my sweet crops, the government decided to raid my land and burn down my so called "demon seed." They labeled me a dangerous criminal, the bounty said to shoot on sight! I packed up all the herb I could carry and made for my escape. I stole a government ship on my way to freedom, took to the sea and the rest.... well, the rest will happen on the sea of thieves! Legend has it that there is a continuous plume of smoke arising from my ship "ol' smokey." And oh do I love me that rum.... Spliff and a shot anyone? ARGGGGH!
@KattTruewalker This is my opening plot to my Character. I left it mysterious and included a part 2 after:
we start our story on a scorching hot week on the Sea Stinger, the rays of the sun were so strong that week, the planks on the deck could cook and blister those who walk upon them. There were no clouds, no comforting winds. Only a white light gleaming against the surface of the ocean. For that week the thirst of the crew grew, their throats were dry and the barrels of grog scarce. Desperate and bewildered they headed East deep into the unknown seas. For many miles they travelled, the ship trudging through the waters as if the water grew thick. As the last flicker of hope faded in the eyes of his crew, Captain Sharkbite grew hopeless. He slowly stumbled up the steps and slung himself together. Eyes burning and dry like sandpaper, he reached into his back pocket and hastily drew his spy glass. As his dry course eye rested on the glass, a small spec of green caught his gaze. In excitement he mustered the grew in a last rally to salvation. Soon the sea awoke as the sails turned, what was once a slumbering deep, was now revived and started to roar. The sea cutting the waves like skates through ice. The green drew nearer and the winds opened, the realisation of their surroundings grew. Soon the green turned into a luscious thick palm. The once mirage heat, now rocks with a fresh spring. The crew in sight of this threw themselves off the boat frantically. Racing to submerge themselves in the pools of fresh water. The captain swam to the sands.
His mouth was dry and aching, in the corner of his eye as he dowsed himself in water he spotted a shadow slumped among the palm. Dripping wet he curiously wondered to find in the distance a man in ragged silk, hair long and head down. His curiosity and fear overwhelming his despair, he staggered to the slumping body.
Approaching it with caution, ready to reach for his dagger on his belt at a moments notice. He rested his hand on his shoulder and gave a sharp and firm shake. The man was alive but too weak move or talk. It was at that moment he realised a sword rested next to him made of flint. He looked further to find the handle wrapped in ray skin, crudely engraved on the blade -"CavemanSamurai"Part 2: (cut down)
later you will find out that "Caveman samurai" was a slave on a Chinese Merchant ship being forced to transport stolen gunpowder. His ship was caught by rival pirates and the ship exploded barely escaping with his life. he crafted a sword out of flint and used it to fight off his now cursed skeleton crew members. Exhausted from battle he tried to attempt to catch more fish but he collapsed under the tree from exhaustion and thats where the Sea stringer crew found him.The Legend of The Dread Pirate Fox
As told: by an old drunken sea dog exchanging tales for tankards of grog in the Drowned Rat.
Well…..as the legend goes, nobody knows where he came from, and nobody knows where the legend began. But our story starts in England, because…..…that’s where he came from and that’s where the legend began. Anyway, the legend has it that he was betrothed to a beautiful but promiscuous lady of refinement. A lady so refine, that she demanded the acquisition of a rare Aztec ruby ring before she would give her hand in marriage to a suitor. But, unbeknownst to anyone at the time, the ring was actually a mystical thingamajig whatsaname, what granted the beholder with the power to not be killed.
So, off goes the Dread Pirate Fox in search of this mystical thingamajig whatsaname, and he found it. Didn't take him much time at all, it was pretty easy, just lying there in plain sight right in the first cave he visited. Some could even argue that he just found a ring in a cave. But he returned to his betrothed with the ring in hand, only to discover lo and behold, that she’d already tied the knot with someone else. Apparently, she didn't need the ring to marry him because he was really handsome and had a really big………....spyglass.
Now, as you can imagine this didn't sit too well with the Dread Pirate Fox, and he demanded satisfaction in the form of an honourable gentleman’s duel. A duel in which, he decided to wear the ring, shoot first and miss horribly, and get killed in the process. Now, you could assume our tale ends here, but, far from it. Like I said, the ring was a mystical thingamajig whatsaname, what granted the beholder with the power to not be killed. So, after he was killed, the ring made it as so he was not killed.
Once back not killed, but also not satisfied nor winning the hand of his beloved. He sought to seek vengeance owed to him from the man he had taken to calling “Stinkglass”. Upon learning that Stinkglass was a commander in the navy, he banded together a rabble of drunken misanthropes staring their death in the eye at the bottom of an empty tankard, and offered them a worthy death fit for any pirate. Then, when that didn't work he offered them gold. After assembling his crew they sailed for several nights and several days until eventually catching up to Stinkglass’ fleet, where they were instantly cut to ribbons with cannon fire what killed every last man aboard.
But once again, the Dread Pirate Fox was made as so to not be killed by the ring, and instead chose to run away with his tail between his legs to go and have some fun as a privateer. During this time, also known as “the bit no one talks about”, he visited an island what was completely inhabited by snakes. There was snakes everywhere, in the grass, in the trees, in the snakes…….they were all over the place. The name of this snake island escapes me, but the point is…….. he was killed by snakes.
Yeah, he got killed a lot. He was killed by sharks, skeletons, firing himself out of a cannon, pirates, pirates, more pirates, trying to make friends with pirates, drowning, pirates again, falling out of the crows nest, boom booms, and visiting an island what was completely inhabited by chickens………….yeah he was killed by chickens.
But after about a year of being killed over and over again, he learnt of some interesting news. It seemed a captain by the name of Cross, was one day playfully skimming stones across the surface of the sea, when he accidentally sunk a whole armada with a couple of pebbles. Amongst the dead be none other than Stinkglass, and the Dread Pirate Fox drew a bearing straight for England and his beloved.
But alas, it was too late, for she had remarried once again, this time with a man who had an even bigger spyglass. The Dread Pirate Fox argued with his beloved over the size of his own spyglass, insisting that it was of an average width and girth, and could easily accommodate any woman who knew how to use it properly. But the sentiment fell on deaf ears, and was cast aside in favour of a greater circumference. He once again took to the seas, this time possessed with the notion of obtaining the perfect spyglass. One spyglass to rule them all you could say, although others chose to say he developed a complex over it, but that’s neither here nor there.
A few weeks later his beloved died of internal bleeding, and the Dread Pirate Fox once again visited the shores of England to bid her a farewell. Standing beside the gravestone of his beloved he then took off the ring and swore an oath, never to use it again, and placed it inside his pocket for a keepsake.
Legend has it that after that, he was sailing back towards Golden Sands when his ship was struck by a random pebble what killed him for good. That was the last anyone ever saw of the Dread Pirate Fox. Some say……. that the ring was more of a curse than a blessing. Some say……. that a more appropriate name for the ring, would of been “the mystical thingamajig whatsaname, what granted the beholder with the power to not stay dead”. Some say……. that if you’re sailing towards Golden Sands Outpost……..on a cold….…….dark……..bitter night……..you can still hear th….oh crumbs there he is over there being sick into a bucket, nobody make eye contact.
The old drunken sea dog proceeds to whistle "what shall we do with the drunken sailor" as he watches the Dread Pirate Fox through his peripheral vision in a way that's not even close to being completely obvious.
@foxdodge said in What's Your Pirate's Backstory? Mk II:
The Legend of The Dread Pirate Fox
As told: by an old drunken sea dog exchanging tales for tankards of grog in the Drowned Rat.
Well…..as the legend goes, nobody knows where he came from, and nobody knows where the legend began. But our story starts in England, because…..…that’s where he came from and that’s where the legend began. Anyway, the legend has it that he was betrothed to a beautiful but promiscuous lady of refinement. A lady so refine, that she demanded the acquisition of a rare Aztec ruby ring before she would give her hand in marriage to a suitor. But, unbeknownst to anyone at the time, the ring was actually a mystical thingamajig whatsaname, what granted the beholder with the power to not be killed.
So, off goes the Dread Pirate Fox in search of this mystical thingamajig whatsaname, and he found it. Didn't take him much time at all, it was pretty easy, just lying there in plain sight right in the first cave he visited. Some could even argue that he just found a ring in a cave. But he returned to his betrothed with the ring in hand, only to discover lo and behold, that she’d already tied the knot with someone else. Apparently, she didn't need the ring to marry him because he was really handsome and had a really big………....spyglass.
Now, as you can imagine this didn't sit too well with the Dread Pirate Fox, and he demanded satisfaction in the form of an honourable gentleman’s duel. A duel in which, he decided to wear the ring, shoot first and miss horribly, and get killed in the process. Now, you could assume our tale ends here, but, far from it. Like I said, the ring was a mystical thingamajig whatsaname, what granted the beholder with the power to not be killed. So, after he was killed, the ring made it as so he was not killed.
Once back not killed, but also not satisfied nor winning the hand of his beloved. He sought to seek vengeance owed to him from the man he had taken to calling “Stinkglass”. Upon learning that Stinkglass was a commander in the navy, he banded together a rabble of drunken misanthropes staring their death in the eye at the bottom of an empty tankard, and offered them a worthy death fit for any pirate. Then, when that didn't work he offered them gold. After assembling his crew they sailed for several nights and several days until eventually catching up to Stinkglass’ fleet, where they were instantly cut to ribbons with cannon fire what killed every last man aboard.
But once again, the Dread Pirate Fox was made as so to not be killed by the ring, and instead chose to run away with his tail between his legs to go and have some fun as a privateer. During this time, also known as “the bit no one talks about”, he visited an island what was completely inhabited by snakes. There was snakes everywhere, in the grass, in the trees, in the snakes…….they were all over the place. The name of this snake island escapes me, but the point is…….. he was killed by snakes.
Yeah, he got killed a lot. He was killed by sharks, skeletons, firing himself out of a cannon, pirates, pirates, more pirates, trying to make friends with pirates, drowning, pirates again, falling out of the crows nest, boom booms, and visiting an island what was completely inhabited by chickens………….yeah he was killed by chickens.
But after about a year of being killed over and over again, he learnt of some interesting news. It seemed a captain by the name of Cross, was one day playfully skimming stones across the surface of the sea, when he accidentally sunk a whole armada with a couple of pebbles. Amongst the dead be none other than Stinkglass, and the Dread Pirate Fox drew a bearing straight for England and his beloved.
But alas, it was too late, for she had remarried once again, this time with a man who had an even bigger spyglass. The Dread Pirate Fox argued with his beloved over the size of his own spyglass, insisting that it was of an average width and girth, and could easily accommodate any woman who knew how to use it properly. But the sentiment fell on deaf ears, and was cast aside in favour of a greater circumference. He once again took to the seas, this time possessed with the notion of obtaining the perfect spyglass. One spyglass to rule them all you could say, although others chose to say he developed a complex over it, but that’s neither here nor there.
A few weeks later his beloved died of internal bleeding, and the Dread Pirate Fox once again visited the shores of England to bid her a farewell. Standing beside the gravestone of his beloved he then took off the ring and swore an oath, never to use it again, and placed it inside his pocket for a keepsake.
Legend has it that after that, he was sailing back towards Golden Sands when his ship was struck by a random pebble what killed him for good. That was the last anyone ever saw of the Dread Pirate Fox. Some say……. that the ring was more of a curse than a blessing. Some say……. that a more appropriate name for the ring, would of been “the mystical thingamajig whatsaname, what granted the beholder with the power to not stay dead”. Some say……. that if you’re sailing towards Golden Sands Outpost……..on a cold….…….dark……..bitter night……..you can still hear th….oh crumbs there he is over there being sick into a bucket, nobody make eye contact.
The old drunken sea dog proceeds to whistle "what shall we do with the drunken sailor" as he watches the Dread Pirate Fox through his peripheral vision in a way that's not even close to being completely obvious.
Halfway through the story, I started to hear Battleblock Theater's narrator's voice telling it. It's so fitting lol. If you don't know about it, I highly recommend you look it up and then imagine your story being read by him. 😂
Well I reckon my humble origin story in the world of pirating began one early spring morning when.... The Devil went down to Georgia, you see he was looking for a soul to steal. He was in a bind, 'cause he was way behind, so naturally he was willing to make a deal. Just so happens he came across this young man Sawing on a fiddle and playing it hot, and the Devil jumped up on a hickory stump and said,
"Boy let me tell you what:
I guess you didn´t know it, but I'm a fiddle player too,
And if you'd care to take a dare,
I'll make a bet with you
Now you play a pretty good fiddle,
Boy, but give the Devil his due
I bet a pirate ship of gold against your soul
'Cause I think I'm better than you"The boy said, "My name's Rufus and it might be a sin,
But I'll take your bet, you're gonna regret,
'Cause I'm the best there's ever been"Rufus, rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard,
'Cause hell's broke loose in Georgia and the Devil deals the cards
And if you win you'll get this shiny ship made of gold,
But if you lose, the Devil gets your soul!The Devil opened up his case and he said, "I'll start this show" and fire blew from his fingertips as he rosined up his bow
and he pulled the bow across the strings and it made an evil hiss. Then a band of demons joined in, and it sounded something fierce.When the Devil finished, Johnny said,
"Well you're pretty good old son
But sit down in that chair right there
And let me show you how it's done!""Fire on the Mountain, run, boys, run The Devil´s in the house of the rising sun Chicken in the bread pan a picking out dough, Granny does your dog bite, "No, child, no"
The Devil bowed his head because he knew that he'd been beat and he laid that golden sloop in the sea at Rufus´s feet
Johnny said, "Devil, just come on back If you ever want to try again, I done told you once, you son of a b***h,
I'm the best there´s ever been"He played,
"Fire on the Mountain, run, boys, run
The Devil's in the house of the rising sun
Chicken in the breadpan a picking out dough,
Granny will your dog bite, "No, child, no"and that is the humble (and completely original) story of how Captain Rufus came to be.
Ok, this one is more the telling of a defining moment than backstory...but here goes.
There wasn't much to do in the quaint coastal village of Alnmouth, Northumberland, even less so if you discounted fishing and farming thought the young lad as he tethered his father's fishing boat to the small harbour dock. The lad's father, Wallace Shank, whistled a cheery tune of his own making as he cast an eye toward the boy now busy transferring fish from burgeoning net to barrel. "A nice catch, eh?" he asked, knowing full well the lad had his mind trained on other matters. "Aye Da, indeed. Do you think it enough that we might spend the morrow on the Swallow?"
The Swallow, it was all the youngster could think about, that and the upcoming Alnmouth Harvest festival. For many, the annual event was the highlight of the year as villagers from all over Northumberland gathered to take part in the usual fare; contests of baking, eating and drinking (for those so inclined...and of age of course!), as well as a fishing derby and finally...the race. The race to Kragg's point and back, the grand finale of the festival, covered both land and sea, with participants limited to only those lads and lasses considered 'coming of age'.
It had been years since anyone from Alnmouth even presented a challenge in the event, let alone win. As it happened, Wallace Shank had been the last. He had taught his son all he knew about the sea; how to navigate certainly, but also how to anticipate shifts in the wind by watching the gulls, how to read both sea and sky...how to feel the water. And of course, how to build boats, the Swallow being the latest. It was nearly complete now with only some painting of sail, adjustment to rigging and a final inspection of hull. A fine specimen to be sure, from top o' sail to shallow keel and bow to stern.
The festival arrived as did throngs of villagers from all over Northumberland. For the sake of brevity lets just say that many pies were baked and fish caught, with winners announced and celebrated for their prowess in their respective fields amidst much song, dance and drink. In fact the drinking contest itself had just ended and the Mayor (and Master of Ceremonies), who participated valiantly in said contest now addressed the crowd as best he could that the race to Kragg's Point would commence forthwith.
Dozens of small sailing vessels lined the beach of the harbour, each adorned with their own colours, whether of family or those of the village they represented. Young master Shank prepared himself, alongside the others, waiting for the starting bell to sound. The sun seemed to hang in the sky now, it's reflection dancing off the waters below as gulls played overhead. His heart raced, but his thoughts slowed as he remembered the lessons shared by his father. The sound of merriment slowly faded, replaced with the soothing song of the sea...and then bell was rung.
He remembers warm sand under foot and between his toes as bare feet pounded, and the familiar touch of finished wood on the palm of his hand as he wrestled the Swallow free of it's captivity. He remembers the sound of sail billowing as it caught wind and the sudden swiftness of the Swallow as it took flight. He remembers the cool of the sea spray on his body, the warmth of sun on his cheek, the wind as it messed his hair and whispered in his ear. All these sensations at once...he felt alive!
It was over far too soon thought the lad as he tugged the boat back onto shore and raced for the finish. A first place finish in this race not only brought fame and glory to your family and village, the winner was also awarded a mug of the finest ale to commemorate their journey. Actually all participants were awarded ale to drink...this was a 'coming of age' race after all.
Wallace was as proud as one would expect, but found he had no words to express his feelings. The Mayor on the hand had plenty to say. Unfortunately he had plenty of drink too and as he attempted to announce the winner of the event all he could muster was "Dat ders one qr hic Shank" before collapsing into the arms of those about him. The crowd erupted in laughter as many are apt to when the ale is flowing and the town dignitary makes a mess of things, but out of the laughter a slow and steady chant became audible as they celebrated the latest Kragg's Point race champion..."qrik-Shank, qrik-Shank".
Now the tale of how Qrikshank came to be a pirate is a tale best told another time, and only time will tell what kind of pirate he might be in Sea of Thieves!
My family has a rich history of explorers and adventurers. So I figured I would use one of my ancestors as my character.
William "Red Fury" Chisholm
William "Red Fury" Chisholm of Scotland sailed the high seas and set up trade between Clan Chisholm and the Americas. Little is known of his backstory outside of he had a firey temper that often got the best of him. This temperament fits well on the high seas when dealing with pirates and fellow plunderers.
Leaving behind his home and the little, immediate, family. William set sail to find his fortune and seek fame and notoriety for Clan Chisholm outside of the native home. Having not yet taken a wife or had any children, just yet, this was not a difficult task.
The sea called his name and his passion that drove him pushed him on through good times and bad. While his main source of income was legitimate trade, the occasional "dirty dead" did arrise. The Red Fury title came in handy when these unsavory dealings took place. The Caribbean is full of rough waters and salty dogs. William had no qualms with navigating through this region, and transport items of legality and illegality alike. Many a ship found it's fated end when he delt out his fury on those that would cross him. He was not an untrustworthy man but he was also not one to be crossed. If a contract was signed he would fulfil the terms to the letter and not double cross his allies. However, if someone crossed him first he had no problem seeking retribution and his pound of flesh. Now he sails the seas with friends and allies to gain more fortune and fame. He is a stern captain, but willing to work with those when mutual benefit is to be gained.
Likely to get into a brawl or sword fight, Chisholm is just as likely to grab an instrument and play a tune with his mates. None shall find a closer friend and confidante in William when he has become loyal to you. Grab a mug of ale and whatever instrument you can play because a good time is ready to be had. Worthy men and women have had the time of their lives sailing with Chisholm and the list just keeps growing of loyal friends and crew members.
I hope this gave y'all the read you were looking for and some insight on who William "Red Fury" Chisholm is.
Battleblock Theater Story Prologue
69 out of 74
