Post by anthonyksavage on May 7, 2022 21:46:44 GMT -5
To my Dearest Cassandra,
Sometimes the call of the open sea is a siren’s melody no sailor can resist dancing to.
The Coalition of Cutthroats hath collapsed.the allure of the World’s Crown has outweighed all restraints. Now the fleets assemble, and soon, cannons cracking and cutlasses clanging shall be the only speech rendered until a new King or Queen of our ilk is chapleted. Once again,I am conscripted in this type of engagement.
It is no secret I do not relish this form of warfare. Throughout the seasons of plundering and strife on the seas, myself and my crew hath preferred single engagement. The test of captain versus captain for control of the waters they sail, to me, is always the route I take. To align with other captains, trust in their abilities and incentives to shed blood steadfast along each of our sides is never an easy task.To rely on others to aid you on your quest to eat whilst they covet what is on your plate is…
What is that colloquialism the Colonials use in situations like this…oh…
“Sus” in nature.
Though, my allies in this great War of the waters are accomplished and ready for the bloody task at hand. Captains Walking Rogan and Bad-Mannered Bovine Wylde…
The name for which Lady Eden bestowed upon here, hence, her constant desire to wallop her for that…
Are more than capable of vanquishing these throat and cookie cutters, the longing to put the Crown back upon the heads after all this time makes me wary of threats from the stern, as well as from the sides and bow. Once our battle with those salty relics from Legacy is complete, their blades will be turning upon me. And young Mister Dixon…
Many doubted his fortitude to seek treasure Coalition Seas, but, by out-dueling Hastings, paid the blood ransom to privateer in these waters. Smart, ambitious,and ravenous as a hunting tiger shark; he’s the perfect buccaneer burdened by the perfect curse; too greedy with a mind far afield. Like any young pirate, he tends to try to take more cargo than his ship can contain. Still, the life suits him well, and he will play his part once ships circle and black powder smoke clouds both sight and wits.
I had said nearly a year ago I would not partake in these wars again. And for a time, I could keep that promise. But, certainties in this life are unavoidable. I’m rather glad.
This damned CURSE I’ve been inflicted with needs to cease before Queen Cass’ Revenge ports for good.
Four years without a Pirate War won. Always thwarted as soon as it starts, or always the last ship to turn hard port and surrender the day to the champion. It must end, and at great haste.
I do not have much time as a Captain. The chances of becoming a true Pirate King again are waning like sunset. Whilst daylight last, I must strive to win one last war.
I will depart for England with alacrity once this war is won. With much effort and luck, I shall also return crowned once again.
Forgive me for another long voyage. I shall return at my earliest convenience.
And no, I will NOT forget the dry cleaning gain like last time. Pinky swears.
Your ever devoted husband, and gorgeous ducat stacking swashbuckler…
Sir Anthony “Chest Punch” Savage. Captain, S.S.Queen Cass's Revenge.
Captain Savage’s hand cramped as the last stroke of his quill on paper began to dry. He dipped the quill back into the inkwell and muttered; “perhaps one day, mankind shall create a device that permits you to simply talk to or tap words out on it to convey messages. This constant correspondence in cursive is a Luciferian curse to encourage illiteracy!”
The Captain sealed the letter in wax and instructed the courier by his desk to have it sent on the next ship to London. With a nod, the courier left, and Captain Anthony rose from his seat. He sheathed he cutlass and musket, and walked up the stairs from his cabin to the deck.
He day was gorgeous. Warm, mellow Caribbean sun and the cool and salty breeze made for a wondrous day for dirt-bag pirates to plot dirt-bag pirate shit. One of the Captain’s deck hands handed him a cup of tea, and the rest of the commanders in this renegade fleet were waiting.
And arguing, as Captain Dixon’s violin strummed an uplifting tune as the crew scampered about in their duties.
“Eden thought it’d be a good idea to keel haul me one time? Can you believe that, Rogan?”
Captain Rogan smirked.”Love,I’d be more shocked if she didn’t.”
Captain Rogan’s sea legs looked a bit wobbly. He hadn’t been very active on the waters for months since him and his love’s dispatch at the hands of the Baal family. Captain Wylde’s exploits varied in quality highly. As for Anthony, his last victory did little to soothe the sting of losing the title of Lord of Chaos to Smoldering Chicken Bryce.That defeat left the captain so salty, he could brine pickles. Another reason for Chest Puncher Savage to raise the banner and set sail; to outdo him by taking a far greater crown.
Ego and greed; the pirate’s creed.
“Captain Savage; is that monkey on the bow smoking a reefer?”Captain Dixon put down his fiddle and stared oddly at the primate imbibing in Satan’s Spinach.
“Yeah, Jason Cashe taught that mangy fruit snatcher that. Hey, get away from there” Anthony draws his musket at the monkey trying to mess with the helm. “Last time you steered, we wound up in Florida!”
The monkey hissed at him, and Tony let off a shot. It missed, sending the monkey scurrying, and black powder into Anthony’s mug.
“*cough* *cough* Blech!”
Tony holstered his gun and wiped soot off his face. “Stupid scurvy riddle monkey.”
“Left a bit on your chin, Sparky!” Rogan grinned. Whilst he crew enjoyed a laugh at hs expense, Captain Savage wiped the soot off.
“I’ma keel haul Jason for leaving that stupid monkey with me.”
“It’s their history that’ll be their downfall here.They have too much between them. Old wounds always flare up when the inflicting party’s present.
Tony pointed on the map with his dagger’s point where he predicted Legacy’s fleet would set sail, and the route they’d take. Throughout the Captain’s briefing, his insight’s on the mindset of the opposing commanders are known.
“The years and the events in them matter to these men. All those years of matches together, old alliances and betrayals. They factor in to their cohesion. You’d think with their combined years and accomplishments, noone could break a fleet commanded by these graying sea devils. But that’s the problem; that very history that defines their legacies is also the hole in the hull.”
“Rydell cares little for the company he keeps. His focus on the Crown so hawkish nothing else comes to view. He won’t save his mates if they’re at the sword’s point. If anything, he’ll gladly let them suffer their fate if it means getting that one last bounty he’s never claimed. Zane…”
“His obsession with being validated by his commanders gnaws at him like a rat chewing through the deck boards. It blinds him from his true purpose; simply being the best commander possible. He’s forgotten this life’s about plunder and glory, naysayers be damned. Lord Donovan…”
Captain Anthony smirked.”A man as choppy as the waives in a squall. Trying’ teh warn Captain Rydell not to sail into stormy seas when he himself unfurls the sails and barrels into troubles. One of the most underhanded bilge rats to plague the waters.The man can’t help but connive.”
“He is a brilliant captain, though, lad.” Captain Rogan, with arms folded across his chest, chimed in. “One of the best.”
“Aye, a man so brilliant, Rogan, he constantly outsmarts himself.” Captain Anthony smirked. “Knowing him, it wouldn’t be above him to sabotage his mates BEFORE the time to meet King Illusion. He’s the worst kind of pirate in that aspect…he simply CAN’T help himself.”
“What about Deimos?” Captain Wylde asked.
”What about him? He’s become the very thing that keeps his sleep brief and turbulent: a shadow of what he once was.he no longer inspires the dread of his golden days raiding the Main. His ship as of late is light in plunder, and heavy on damage from failed campaigns. His fate now lies on hunting fortune with those that would gleefully plant a hook in the back of his head.”
“All of them connected to each other with a frayed and bloodied rope.” The Captain held a piece of twine in his hands. “Wounds from old scores and wars still stinging. They will remember the wrongs each other committed on each other. The songs of their history will rattle their ears.Thus, the problem with gathering a fleet with a lot like them…”
“They are captains that would turn their swords and cannons upon themselves. Too many admirals, not enough pirates. Their egos alone could capsize an armada.”
“Their own ambitions out weighing the war.” Captain Wylde nodded. “While we focus on advancing the fleet.”
“Makes sense.” Captain Rogan reluctantly agreed. “But they just won’t roll over for us.”
“Aye, the won’t. But if those pompous relics get snarly with each other in the fog of war, far be it from us to intervene. Let them waste gunpowder and steel on each other if and when that time comes. It’ll make our shots much more accurate when they’re least expectant.”
Captain Savage made no bones this raid would be wrought with peril. 3 seasoned sailors unfamiliar with each other’s tactics, and a fairly new privateer just making his bones in Coalition seas against brigands that terrorized these waters for years would be daunting in scope. But Savage knew from years on the seas expecting cohesion in a fleet from cutthroats with axes to grind with each other was recipe for mutiny and disorder.
You don’t put egos like that together and NOT expect the specter of disaster to loom. Besides, all 4 captains of the Fate armada had beaten these scoundrels in one form or another. Legends to captain Savage were never invincible. In fact, he’d already made it clear in these waters, their ships were very boardable by him. Their treasure was very much at risk when they saw his flag in the horizon.
They were more of a fleet than Legacy, for the only bond they had with each other was greed for gold. No loose ends connected to each other to trip them up on the deck.
But the Captain knew once Legacy was dispatched, the real problem began. Once the real battle for Lord of Pirates commenced, it would be a feeding frenzy. No bonds of love nor friendship would hold one Monty’s ship was in range of the cannons. Lucy and Rogan could easily have their swords at each other’s necks. The Wolf,Captain Dixon, would soon bare his teeth at his former mates. And Anthony…
Everybody on the High Seas knew captain Chest Punch’s lust for gold. You can’t get him to shut his hatch about all his ill gotten booty if you tried. Bedlam and betrayal would rule that day.
In other words, just another day in the life of a pirate.
Captain Savage could smell the weather changing in the air.A storm was brewing. The weather always turned for the worst before any good war.
With sweat and saltwater in his eyes, and his feet struggling to stay grounded as the ship rattled and bucked in choppy waters, the Captain braced himself, cutlass gripped tightly when Chest Punch swung at the next hapless cur foppish enough to stand before him. Smoke and storm choked the air, and the screams of crew members panicking or brawling were barely detectable whispers in the howling wind.
These were the days a pirate like Captain Anthony relished in. Sure, the years had softened him a bit. Family, wealth, fame tends to make a man slow his trot and act more with his head than his feet and fists. He’d even denied for a time this life was still in his veins, these type of wars were no longer his to fight. How foolish he was to deny his nature.
Every swing of his cutlass and fist reminded him being a pirate was more than just the loot. For some, seeing their rivals driven or bleeding as Anthony was, that was their reason for being. The entropy was the trigger for some. Burning timbers and bruised bodies certainly had their appeal. Fame, recompense, validation…
Everyone had their reasons for being in the pirate game, but to be a true Lord of this disreputable lot…
You had to want ALL of that!
Tony could taste that admixture in his mouth, which only intensified the closer he got to the ship’s helm. He sent the last man brave enough to fight him overboard into the crashing waives. He was soaked from toes to top, his skin pierced and muscles shrieking, he hadn’t felt this elated in some time.
He wiped the blood of the blade’s edge and charged.The ship and the day would be his. What the next day held, as his co-captains reported the remnants of the other fleet’s activities, he couldn’t tell.
And it didn’t matter to him. This curse for 4 years would be lifted.
Otherwise, he’d have to wait and lick his wounds. Nothing irritates a pirate like having to wait for your next coin.
Dearest Cassandra,
Now the Outlast Campaign approaches finality, and what a rabble assembled for this scuffle.
Captains Wylde and Rogan did their parts magnificently, and Captain Dixon continues to ease into his rule as a crew leader. Now, though, the strength in numbers factor has become irrelevant, leaving a bitter scramble for the meal. Dixon has made it crystal clear in his communications he’ll show no quarter to friend nor foe.this next offensive.
Good.The lad needs a beating from me, not out of aggravation, but out of education. I like the young man and his ambition, but often, his desires weigh heavier than his grasp.he is not the terror he prides himself to be, not yet. A bit of cruel tutelage when the time comes from a man who also flew too high like Icarus would do him good. He’s a blazing fire that needs a bit of quenching, and I shall gladly wield the water bucket.
Rogan and Lucy shan’t stand in my path. They’ve proven to be more formidable as of late as a plundering pair, but once it’s obvious the prize is for a single owner, their inconsistencies in solo combat in recent times will come to light. Rogan has been relatively out of the loop, content to be a rock in Lucy’s foundation. Lucy’s self doubts have been her boat anchor lately.Their focus and drive seemed to diminish a bit, not to the point.they’re irrelevant as competition to the throne, but if one’s vision strays beyond the shipping route, as theirs tend to do, it’s easy to be left in the wake.
The Potato Man and Slander Mouth Pierce.they didn’t assemble pirate crews; they cobbled together a bloody circus troupe. Has beens, tent pole attractions, blithering idiots. Their struggle is less akin to a trophy battle of swordsmen, and a gathering of outcast children daring each other to chug lead paint. The true atrocity is, the once mighty and demonic Hide-san has been reduced to background muscle for a court jester whose mouth and mind are constantly riddled with dysentery.
The bloody Devil could rise from the Abyss to start Armageddon; the minute that starchy payroll barnacle opens his cock holster, he’d convince most of Creation the End of Days isn’t such a bad idea.
Ol’Deck Swab Petey’s back within my sights. Remember him during our days robbing in the Texas territory? When his face used to be the mopped I cleaned canvas with? Turns out me ol’ punching bag learned to punch back. Even won himself a few bounties. But he never was able to get one over on me. He was never quite vicious enough, motivated enough. I tried back in the day to push him to no avail. Now, I want to see this new “Captain Vaughn”, if nothing that his new status will make it even more fun to make him eat a commode cake in front of a crowd.
Sebastian and Jax of Baltimore both concern me the most. Besides an ill-conceived exploit with Centurion, I have no real experience in dealing with the Jester. Whilst arguably the most dangerous and unpredictable roaming the waters, Jax is making a very questionable decision relying on her minions instead of other professional corsairs. Has her departure from the Creeps made her reticent to trust others to fight for her? Does she simply not want others in her shining moment interfering? Or is this another ruse to lull adversaries into a dangerous comfort. She is leaving her neck exposed,and the weight of making it through this war with less than ideal support becomes hefty.
Frankly, she may have put herself in a position to lose, but then again, the way she machinates, this could be a feint.
As for Boat Shoes Bryce…the man continues to be a vex. Twice in my tour in Coalition waters, he’s ran me from my prize. Twice. That thorn I can’t seem to remove from my boot no matter what I do. That patch of ocean I can’t navigate. It’s enough to draw focus away from the war effort. But petty recompense compared to the World’s Belt…
Bad for business.
My revenge will come by taking the crown from Cervantes the Illusionist.
I WILL return to England victorious in this war. I WILL sail into the harbor and back into your arms once again, a conqueror. This curse of Tournaments will be lifted, and I can port for the last time knowing that blight on my reputation shall be scrubbed wholly from the history books.
And to depths, to the locker of Davy Jones, to ye that attempts to thwart me!
Dawn was still an hour away, but the flames from the ships Savage and his mates were scuttling provided plenty of early morning light. Their campaign was costly, but the loot pilfered from the routed fleet’s vessels would compensate them well. It was another successful raid by Chest Punch Savage and the Fleet of Fate.
But piracy is a world where your victories are a beacon for other raiders to sail upon.
“Now THAT was bloody good sport, wasn’t that?”The Dark Pirate MacLean bellowed from the deck of his vessel, sipping on a rum bottle while Captain Wylde tossed gold bullion in the air.
“You looked almost alive out there, Savage. Like you were something else besides a man driven by gold.”Wylde added. “Bet it felt good to be free to sail unbridled again, didn’t it?”
She wasn’t wrong. As great as his reign as Chaos Lord was, Captain Anthony realized it had been a chain dragging him down as well. He had forgotten the freedom and exhilaration of the chase.For 6 months, he had been the hunted,constantly defending his ship from boarders. Now, he was the boarder again.
Belts and crowns, as important as they were, we temporary. Most things in life as a pirate came with shortened lifespans. Gold and friends came and went, wounds healed and scarred, love blossomed and died on these shipping lanes. Some chose the life of random port calls and danger for the loot. Others sailed for fame or freedom. Others, for payback, whether the offence be real or imagined.
A real pirate, like Captain Chest Punch Savage, the life meant pursuit of ALL those things. And maybe a violent good time whilst they were there.
It was his time to claim the throne of King of The Pirates. He had beaten or faced most of his rivals, and he was one of the few in the field that could take down Cervantes and bring his magic kingdom to its knees. But he wasn’t the only one with that thought, as Captain Dixon let loose a warning the seemingly calm morning would turn into a turbulent day.
“SHIPS TO THE PORTSIDE, CAPTAINS! THE REST OF THE FISH ARE HERE TO EAT!”
Captain Savage caught their outlines in the fading dark. All commanded by different crews, bearing strange flags. But they all wanted the same treasure.
HIS treasure!
Damned if they were going to stop him from lifting the Curse of Tournaments!
“ALL HANDS TO THEIR STATIONS SHARPISH!” The Blonde Buccaneer snarled at his crew of killers are brigands. “I WANT THIS BARGE MOVING IN THE NEXT FIVE MINUTES! FIRST MATE; ON MY MARK, RIGHT RUDDER 4 DEGREES! SET AN INTERCEPT COURSE AND STOP THESE SALTY CUNTS FROM STEALING MY QUARRY”
"Let’s show these mutts what happens when they decide to piss on my rug, lads!”
Weeks, sometimes months away from home and the ones you love. Beset constantly by elongated periods of monotony spiced with moments of pain and violence. The constant threat of one’s rivals and the chase for the next prize.
That was life for a pirate in the Coalition seas, and for an old seahorse like Anthony…
The pirate’s life was one truly for him…
“Hey, you! Get away from that damned wheel, you banana chewing blight!”
That pesky primate once again tried to tough the wheel. Savage whipped out his musket and sent another round screaming at that beast. Once again, black powder masked his face as that creature scurried away, chuckling.
Captain Savage stared at his musket, shaking his head.
“*pfft* I need to find a new gun. This one’s gonna kill me instead of my enemies one day!"
Sometimes the call of the open sea is a siren’s melody no sailor can resist dancing to.
The Coalition of Cutthroats hath collapsed.the allure of the World’s Crown has outweighed all restraints. Now the fleets assemble, and soon, cannons cracking and cutlasses clanging shall be the only speech rendered until a new King or Queen of our ilk is chapleted. Once again,I am conscripted in this type of engagement.
It is no secret I do not relish this form of warfare. Throughout the seasons of plundering and strife on the seas, myself and my crew hath preferred single engagement. The test of captain versus captain for control of the waters they sail, to me, is always the route I take. To align with other captains, trust in their abilities and incentives to shed blood steadfast along each of our sides is never an easy task.To rely on others to aid you on your quest to eat whilst they covet what is on your plate is…
What is that colloquialism the Colonials use in situations like this…oh…
“Sus” in nature.
Though, my allies in this great War of the waters are accomplished and ready for the bloody task at hand. Captains Walking Rogan and Bad-Mannered Bovine Wylde…
The name for which Lady Eden bestowed upon here, hence, her constant desire to wallop her for that…
Are more than capable of vanquishing these throat and cookie cutters, the longing to put the Crown back upon the heads after all this time makes me wary of threats from the stern, as well as from the sides and bow. Once our battle with those salty relics from Legacy is complete, their blades will be turning upon me. And young Mister Dixon…
Many doubted his fortitude to seek treasure Coalition Seas, but, by out-dueling Hastings, paid the blood ransom to privateer in these waters. Smart, ambitious,and ravenous as a hunting tiger shark; he’s the perfect buccaneer burdened by the perfect curse; too greedy with a mind far afield. Like any young pirate, he tends to try to take more cargo than his ship can contain. Still, the life suits him well, and he will play his part once ships circle and black powder smoke clouds both sight and wits.
I had said nearly a year ago I would not partake in these wars again. And for a time, I could keep that promise. But, certainties in this life are unavoidable. I’m rather glad.
This damned CURSE I’ve been inflicted with needs to cease before Queen Cass’ Revenge ports for good.
Four years without a Pirate War won. Always thwarted as soon as it starts, or always the last ship to turn hard port and surrender the day to the champion. It must end, and at great haste.
I do not have much time as a Captain. The chances of becoming a true Pirate King again are waning like sunset. Whilst daylight last, I must strive to win one last war.
I will depart for England with alacrity once this war is won. With much effort and luck, I shall also return crowned once again.
Forgive me for another long voyage. I shall return at my earliest convenience.
And no, I will NOT forget the dry cleaning gain like last time. Pinky swears.
Your ever devoted husband, and gorgeous ducat stacking swashbuckler…
Sir Anthony “Chest Punch” Savage. Captain, S.S.Queen Cass's Revenge.
Captain Savage’s hand cramped as the last stroke of his quill on paper began to dry. He dipped the quill back into the inkwell and muttered; “perhaps one day, mankind shall create a device that permits you to simply talk to or tap words out on it to convey messages. This constant correspondence in cursive is a Luciferian curse to encourage illiteracy!”
The Captain sealed the letter in wax and instructed the courier by his desk to have it sent on the next ship to London. With a nod, the courier left, and Captain Anthony rose from his seat. He sheathed he cutlass and musket, and walked up the stairs from his cabin to the deck.
He day was gorgeous. Warm, mellow Caribbean sun and the cool and salty breeze made for a wondrous day for dirt-bag pirates to plot dirt-bag pirate shit. One of the Captain’s deck hands handed him a cup of tea, and the rest of the commanders in this renegade fleet were waiting.
And arguing, as Captain Dixon’s violin strummed an uplifting tune as the crew scampered about in their duties.
“Eden thought it’d be a good idea to keel haul me one time? Can you believe that, Rogan?”
Captain Rogan smirked.”Love,I’d be more shocked if she didn’t.”
Captain Rogan’s sea legs looked a bit wobbly. He hadn’t been very active on the waters for months since him and his love’s dispatch at the hands of the Baal family. Captain Wylde’s exploits varied in quality highly. As for Anthony, his last victory did little to soothe the sting of losing the title of Lord of Chaos to Smoldering Chicken Bryce.That defeat left the captain so salty, he could brine pickles. Another reason for Chest Puncher Savage to raise the banner and set sail; to outdo him by taking a far greater crown.
Ego and greed; the pirate’s creed.
“Captain Savage; is that monkey on the bow smoking a reefer?”Captain Dixon put down his fiddle and stared oddly at the primate imbibing in Satan’s Spinach.
“Yeah, Jason Cashe taught that mangy fruit snatcher that. Hey, get away from there” Anthony draws his musket at the monkey trying to mess with the helm. “Last time you steered, we wound up in Florida!”
The monkey hissed at him, and Tony let off a shot. It missed, sending the monkey scurrying, and black powder into Anthony’s mug.
“*cough* *cough* Blech!”
Tony holstered his gun and wiped soot off his face. “Stupid scurvy riddle monkey.”
“Left a bit on your chin, Sparky!” Rogan grinned. Whilst he crew enjoyed a laugh at hs expense, Captain Savage wiped the soot off.
“I’ma keel haul Jason for leaving that stupid monkey with me.”
“It’s their history that’ll be their downfall here.They have too much between them. Old wounds always flare up when the inflicting party’s present.
Tony pointed on the map with his dagger’s point where he predicted Legacy’s fleet would set sail, and the route they’d take. Throughout the Captain’s briefing, his insight’s on the mindset of the opposing commanders are known.
“The years and the events in them matter to these men. All those years of matches together, old alliances and betrayals. They factor in to their cohesion. You’d think with their combined years and accomplishments, noone could break a fleet commanded by these graying sea devils. But that’s the problem; that very history that defines their legacies is also the hole in the hull.”
“Rydell cares little for the company he keeps. His focus on the Crown so hawkish nothing else comes to view. He won’t save his mates if they’re at the sword’s point. If anything, he’ll gladly let them suffer their fate if it means getting that one last bounty he’s never claimed. Zane…”
“His obsession with being validated by his commanders gnaws at him like a rat chewing through the deck boards. It blinds him from his true purpose; simply being the best commander possible. He’s forgotten this life’s about plunder and glory, naysayers be damned. Lord Donovan…”
Captain Anthony smirked.”A man as choppy as the waives in a squall. Trying’ teh warn Captain Rydell not to sail into stormy seas when he himself unfurls the sails and barrels into troubles. One of the most underhanded bilge rats to plague the waters.The man can’t help but connive.”
“He is a brilliant captain, though, lad.” Captain Rogan, with arms folded across his chest, chimed in. “One of the best.”
“Aye, a man so brilliant, Rogan, he constantly outsmarts himself.” Captain Anthony smirked. “Knowing him, it wouldn’t be above him to sabotage his mates BEFORE the time to meet King Illusion. He’s the worst kind of pirate in that aspect…he simply CAN’T help himself.”
“What about Deimos?” Captain Wylde asked.
”What about him? He’s become the very thing that keeps his sleep brief and turbulent: a shadow of what he once was.he no longer inspires the dread of his golden days raiding the Main. His ship as of late is light in plunder, and heavy on damage from failed campaigns. His fate now lies on hunting fortune with those that would gleefully plant a hook in the back of his head.”
“All of them connected to each other with a frayed and bloodied rope.” The Captain held a piece of twine in his hands. “Wounds from old scores and wars still stinging. They will remember the wrongs each other committed on each other. The songs of their history will rattle their ears.Thus, the problem with gathering a fleet with a lot like them…”
“They are captains that would turn their swords and cannons upon themselves. Too many admirals, not enough pirates. Their egos alone could capsize an armada.”
“Their own ambitions out weighing the war.” Captain Wylde nodded. “While we focus on advancing the fleet.”
“Makes sense.” Captain Rogan reluctantly agreed. “But they just won’t roll over for us.”
“Aye, the won’t. But if those pompous relics get snarly with each other in the fog of war, far be it from us to intervene. Let them waste gunpowder and steel on each other if and when that time comes. It’ll make our shots much more accurate when they’re least expectant.”
Captain Savage made no bones this raid would be wrought with peril. 3 seasoned sailors unfamiliar with each other’s tactics, and a fairly new privateer just making his bones in Coalition seas against brigands that terrorized these waters for years would be daunting in scope. But Savage knew from years on the seas expecting cohesion in a fleet from cutthroats with axes to grind with each other was recipe for mutiny and disorder.
You don’t put egos like that together and NOT expect the specter of disaster to loom. Besides, all 4 captains of the Fate armada had beaten these scoundrels in one form or another. Legends to captain Savage were never invincible. In fact, he’d already made it clear in these waters, their ships were very boardable by him. Their treasure was very much at risk when they saw his flag in the horizon.
They were more of a fleet than Legacy, for the only bond they had with each other was greed for gold. No loose ends connected to each other to trip them up on the deck.
But the Captain knew once Legacy was dispatched, the real problem began. Once the real battle for Lord of Pirates commenced, it would be a feeding frenzy. No bonds of love nor friendship would hold one Monty’s ship was in range of the cannons. Lucy and Rogan could easily have their swords at each other’s necks. The Wolf,Captain Dixon, would soon bare his teeth at his former mates. And Anthony…
Everybody on the High Seas knew captain Chest Punch’s lust for gold. You can’t get him to shut his hatch about all his ill gotten booty if you tried. Bedlam and betrayal would rule that day.
In other words, just another day in the life of a pirate.
Captain Savage could smell the weather changing in the air.A storm was brewing. The weather always turned for the worst before any good war.
With sweat and saltwater in his eyes, and his feet struggling to stay grounded as the ship rattled and bucked in choppy waters, the Captain braced himself, cutlass gripped tightly when Chest Punch swung at the next hapless cur foppish enough to stand before him. Smoke and storm choked the air, and the screams of crew members panicking or brawling were barely detectable whispers in the howling wind.
These were the days a pirate like Captain Anthony relished in. Sure, the years had softened him a bit. Family, wealth, fame tends to make a man slow his trot and act more with his head than his feet and fists. He’d even denied for a time this life was still in his veins, these type of wars were no longer his to fight. How foolish he was to deny his nature.
Every swing of his cutlass and fist reminded him being a pirate was more than just the loot. For some, seeing their rivals driven or bleeding as Anthony was, that was their reason for being. The entropy was the trigger for some. Burning timbers and bruised bodies certainly had their appeal. Fame, recompense, validation…
Everyone had their reasons for being in the pirate game, but to be a true Lord of this disreputable lot…
You had to want ALL of that!
Tony could taste that admixture in his mouth, which only intensified the closer he got to the ship’s helm. He sent the last man brave enough to fight him overboard into the crashing waives. He was soaked from toes to top, his skin pierced and muscles shrieking, he hadn’t felt this elated in some time.
He wiped the blood of the blade’s edge and charged.The ship and the day would be his. What the next day held, as his co-captains reported the remnants of the other fleet’s activities, he couldn’t tell.
And it didn’t matter to him. This curse for 4 years would be lifted.
Otherwise, he’d have to wait and lick his wounds. Nothing irritates a pirate like having to wait for your next coin.
Dearest Cassandra,
Now the Outlast Campaign approaches finality, and what a rabble assembled for this scuffle.
Captains Wylde and Rogan did their parts magnificently, and Captain Dixon continues to ease into his rule as a crew leader. Now, though, the strength in numbers factor has become irrelevant, leaving a bitter scramble for the meal. Dixon has made it crystal clear in his communications he’ll show no quarter to friend nor foe.this next offensive.
Good.The lad needs a beating from me, not out of aggravation, but out of education. I like the young man and his ambition, but often, his desires weigh heavier than his grasp.he is not the terror he prides himself to be, not yet. A bit of cruel tutelage when the time comes from a man who also flew too high like Icarus would do him good. He’s a blazing fire that needs a bit of quenching, and I shall gladly wield the water bucket.
Rogan and Lucy shan’t stand in my path. They’ve proven to be more formidable as of late as a plundering pair, but once it’s obvious the prize is for a single owner, their inconsistencies in solo combat in recent times will come to light. Rogan has been relatively out of the loop, content to be a rock in Lucy’s foundation. Lucy’s self doubts have been her boat anchor lately.Their focus and drive seemed to diminish a bit, not to the point.they’re irrelevant as competition to the throne, but if one’s vision strays beyond the shipping route, as theirs tend to do, it’s easy to be left in the wake.
The Potato Man and Slander Mouth Pierce.they didn’t assemble pirate crews; they cobbled together a bloody circus troupe. Has beens, tent pole attractions, blithering idiots. Their struggle is less akin to a trophy battle of swordsmen, and a gathering of outcast children daring each other to chug lead paint. The true atrocity is, the once mighty and demonic Hide-san has been reduced to background muscle for a court jester whose mouth and mind are constantly riddled with dysentery.
The bloody Devil could rise from the Abyss to start Armageddon; the minute that starchy payroll barnacle opens his cock holster, he’d convince most of Creation the End of Days isn’t such a bad idea.
Ol’Deck Swab Petey’s back within my sights. Remember him during our days robbing in the Texas territory? When his face used to be the mopped I cleaned canvas with? Turns out me ol’ punching bag learned to punch back. Even won himself a few bounties. But he never was able to get one over on me. He was never quite vicious enough, motivated enough. I tried back in the day to push him to no avail. Now, I want to see this new “Captain Vaughn”, if nothing that his new status will make it even more fun to make him eat a commode cake in front of a crowd.
Sebastian and Jax of Baltimore both concern me the most. Besides an ill-conceived exploit with Centurion, I have no real experience in dealing with the Jester. Whilst arguably the most dangerous and unpredictable roaming the waters, Jax is making a very questionable decision relying on her minions instead of other professional corsairs. Has her departure from the Creeps made her reticent to trust others to fight for her? Does she simply not want others in her shining moment interfering? Or is this another ruse to lull adversaries into a dangerous comfort. She is leaving her neck exposed,and the weight of making it through this war with less than ideal support becomes hefty.
Frankly, she may have put herself in a position to lose, but then again, the way she machinates, this could be a feint.
As for Boat Shoes Bryce…the man continues to be a vex. Twice in my tour in Coalition waters, he’s ran me from my prize. Twice. That thorn I can’t seem to remove from my boot no matter what I do. That patch of ocean I can’t navigate. It’s enough to draw focus away from the war effort. But petty recompense compared to the World’s Belt…
Bad for business.
My revenge will come by taking the crown from Cervantes the Illusionist.
I WILL return to England victorious in this war. I WILL sail into the harbor and back into your arms once again, a conqueror. This curse of Tournaments will be lifted, and I can port for the last time knowing that blight on my reputation shall be scrubbed wholly from the history books.
And to depths, to the locker of Davy Jones, to ye that attempts to thwart me!
Dawn was still an hour away, but the flames from the ships Savage and his mates were scuttling provided plenty of early morning light. Their campaign was costly, but the loot pilfered from the routed fleet’s vessels would compensate them well. It was another successful raid by Chest Punch Savage and the Fleet of Fate.
But piracy is a world where your victories are a beacon for other raiders to sail upon.
“Now THAT was bloody good sport, wasn’t that?”The Dark Pirate MacLean bellowed from the deck of his vessel, sipping on a rum bottle while Captain Wylde tossed gold bullion in the air.
“You looked almost alive out there, Savage. Like you were something else besides a man driven by gold.”Wylde added. “Bet it felt good to be free to sail unbridled again, didn’t it?”
She wasn’t wrong. As great as his reign as Chaos Lord was, Captain Anthony realized it had been a chain dragging him down as well. He had forgotten the freedom and exhilaration of the chase.For 6 months, he had been the hunted,constantly defending his ship from boarders. Now, he was the boarder again.
Belts and crowns, as important as they were, we temporary. Most things in life as a pirate came with shortened lifespans. Gold and friends came and went, wounds healed and scarred, love blossomed and died on these shipping lanes. Some chose the life of random port calls and danger for the loot. Others sailed for fame or freedom. Others, for payback, whether the offence be real or imagined.
A real pirate, like Captain Chest Punch Savage, the life meant pursuit of ALL those things. And maybe a violent good time whilst they were there.
It was his time to claim the throne of King of The Pirates. He had beaten or faced most of his rivals, and he was one of the few in the field that could take down Cervantes and bring his magic kingdom to its knees. But he wasn’t the only one with that thought, as Captain Dixon let loose a warning the seemingly calm morning would turn into a turbulent day.
“SHIPS TO THE PORTSIDE, CAPTAINS! THE REST OF THE FISH ARE HERE TO EAT!”
Captain Savage caught their outlines in the fading dark. All commanded by different crews, bearing strange flags. But they all wanted the same treasure.
HIS treasure!
Damned if they were going to stop him from lifting the Curse of Tournaments!
“ALL HANDS TO THEIR STATIONS SHARPISH!” The Blonde Buccaneer snarled at his crew of killers are brigands. “I WANT THIS BARGE MOVING IN THE NEXT FIVE MINUTES! FIRST MATE; ON MY MARK, RIGHT RUDDER 4 DEGREES! SET AN INTERCEPT COURSE AND STOP THESE SALTY CUNTS FROM STEALING MY QUARRY”
"Let’s show these mutts what happens when they decide to piss on my rug, lads!”
Weeks, sometimes months away from home and the ones you love. Beset constantly by elongated periods of monotony spiced with moments of pain and violence. The constant threat of one’s rivals and the chase for the next prize.
That was life for a pirate in the Coalition seas, and for an old seahorse like Anthony…
The pirate’s life was one truly for him…
“Hey, you! Get away from that damned wheel, you banana chewing blight!”
That pesky primate once again tried to tough the wheel. Savage whipped out his musket and sent another round screaming at that beast. Once again, black powder masked his face as that creature scurried away, chuckling.
Captain Savage stared at his musket, shaking his head.
“*pfft* I need to find a new gun. This one’s gonna kill me instead of my enemies one day!"