Every Pirate’s Dream
~Prologue~
Legend tells of an ancient treasure locked away from mankind because it’s power was too great for any one man to control. Many adventurers set sail after it in hopes of making all their dreams come true with immense power it could grant. Truth be told, no one really knew exactly what it was or what it did. Everyone had a different idea as to what it was. Some thought it would make a man invincible, others thought it was some sort of object that could grant your wishes. Still others believed it to be a heap of gold and silver large enough to feed an entire country for a century. They were all a bit right, actually.
One particularly skilled (and lucky) pirate crew managed conquer all trials protecting the treasure. When they finally obtained it, the power it granted corrupted them in ways they couldn’t imagine. They couldn’t handle the power and were eventually driven to madness. After all was said and done only one remained from their crew, a lowly cabin boy named Finn. After seeing what that so-called treasure had wrought he was determined to make sure that no one else fell victim to it.
He went back to it and attempted to destroy but was unsuccessful. His strength alone was nowhere near enough to accomplish this feat. He then decided on a new plan. First he sealed up the path to the treasure. When he got back to civilization he spread the word that the treasure was long gone, possible never existed even. (Oddly enough no one seemed to wonder what happened to his crew) Lastly he gathered all the records of his crew’s final voyage and stuffed in a single crate and dumped it somewhere in vast ocean, hopefully never to be seen again.
Time passed and people forgot all about the once most sought after treasure ever. It was spoken of only by historians just as an absurd tale to amuse their peers. It appeared that treasure would go undisturbed, possibly for all eternity, until one fateful day, over one hundred years after it was supposed to locked away forever…
Icy cold waves beat against the hull of the Falcon as it sliced through the ocean like a hot knife through butter. The ship was especially designed for speed, but as a consequence it’s not well equipped for ship-to-ship combat. If it were ever attacked by any sort of warship it would be in a lot of trouble. At the ship’s prow was a single red-haired figure staring ominously into the horizon. He was clad in a dingy white tunic, well broken in from years of wear and tear. He also donned golden slacks that have long since lost their luster. On his feet were sandals with toe loops that were hanging on by little more than a thread. Always perched atop his head was his signature dusty brown beret. At his hip were his two trusty swords- a longsword and a katana. These two swords are the reason for his unique sword style and unparalleled skills. As far as he knew, no other in the world fought with both a longsword and a katana. He was quite unique indeed. By the way he was garbed and the aloof way he held himself, one would never guess he was the captain of a pirate crew, let alone a world famous pirate crew. Although his crew was a motley group of ten, they became world renowned by always finding themselves wherever the action was and escaping unscathed. His name was Crowe. Captain Crowe to his crew. He had the full support of his crew not matter what. His crew trusted him unconditionally. They knew how smart he was and that he would never lead them down the wrong path. Icy water sprayed him as he continually stared off ominously into the distance.
“Hey cap’n, watcha doing?” asked Edgar Savage, Crowe’s first mate and left hand man. (Crowe is left-handed)
“Staring pensively into the distance,” replied Crowe coolly.
“Ah, I gotcha Cap’n,” said Edgar without really thinking. “Wait, what?”
“It just seemed like the captainly thing to do,” explained the captain as if it were painfully obvious. “I thought I would give me an air of mystique and, well, make me look cool. So, what do you think? Did it work?”
“Uh, yeah, sure, of course it did Captain,”
“Good. Now I can stop getting whipped by these icy waves of pure concentrated coldness. Seriously, I don’t know how all the other captains do it!” Captain Crowe always tried to better himself by following the example of the pirates he admired the most.
Meanwhile at the stern of the ship nets were being cast out to catch the crew’s meals for the next week or two, depending on how well the fish are biting.
“Oy, feels like we caught quite the load!” shouted Marco. He is the resident fisherman. Marco was always at his happiest when it came time to catch more fish. He is one of the long time members of the crew, along with Edgar and Crowe. Since he’s joined he has assumed the role of “Official Master Fisherman of the Crew” or at least that’s how he put it. Now nobody catches fish without him. They may try, but will never succeed. “Put yer back into it now! We don’t want to lose this one now!
“Aye, sir. This load feels like it could feed us for a month, maybe two even!” shouted back Marco’s protégé, Antonio.
After a grueling battle with gravity and fatigue, the two managed to hall the mighty load aboard, but something was amiss.
“I must be getting old because that haul felt like much more work than it was worth,” grunted Marco.
“Yeah, for how much we struggled I thought there would have been a lot more in that net,” agreed Antonio with a sigh of disappointment. “Wait just a sec, I think I see something extra in the net! And it looks awfully big and heavy!”
“Oh yeah? That’s a relief! I am too young to be getting old!” Panted Marco enthusiastically. “Well what’re you waitin’ fer? Help me get it out!”
“Aye Aye sir!”
With surgical precision they pulled the object out careful not to lose any fish in the process. When you’ve been at sea for a long time you learn never to let a potential meal get away. What they found was a massive steel crate, encrusted with a thick layer of rust and algae from untold years spent sleeping at the bottom of the sea. It was obviously impossible to be opened by conventional means, but that wasn’t going to stop them. Blowing this crate open would be a pleasant break from the monotony of life at sea.
“Hey, hey, what do ya think is in it?” asked Antonio, happy something interesting was finally happening. Antonio hadn’t been with the crew for very long, and since he’s been onboard nothing very interesting has happened yet aside for a couple of big storms and a misunderstanding with the Navy.
“It could be anything, even a long lost treasure!” replied Marco less than enthusiastically. “But with our luck its probably just a supply crate filled with rotten, spoiled food that fell off some ship ages ago.”
“Could be, but I doubt it. That crate is way too reinforced to just be holding food. I don’t think even a cannon shot would be enough to crack open this box!”
“Yeah, but we have ways of getting breaking open things other people don’t want open,”
“Well then how ya gonna do it?”
“It’s quite simple really. You see even though the overall structure may be strong, the joints are still weak. The only problem is the rust, but I think Kozaki may have something for that.” Kozaki was a bit off kilter, but he was the smartest guy onboard the ship, besides Crowe but rarely shows his brilliance. Kozaki always kept a supply of chemicals, whose use was only known to him, in his cabin. He described himself as an alchemist, a pharmacist, and a chemist all rolled into one.
“Hey Kozaki! You in there?” shouted Marco impatiently. The one thing Marco hated to do was wait. Everyone thought that was odd for a fisherman because that’s all a fisherman does. But when he sets out to catch a fish he usually won’t have to wait too long. He’s just that good.
“Mmm whatta ya want? Can’t you see I’m busy?” Snapped Kozaki in his crackly high-pitched voice. Kozaki is known for being cranky and hating to be disturbed while he is working on something.
“Uh, actually no. The door is in the way, old buddy!” chuckled Marco.
“Is that you Marco, old friend? You shoulda said so!” cackled Kozaki, his former grouchiness now suddenly gone with the wind now that he knew he was talking to his long time friend. For reasons known only to him, Kozaki is fond of Marco. Kozaki is a kind of the loner of the ship. The only one’s he ever really happy to see are Marco and Crowe. “Come on in! What can this old crone do for ya?”
“You wouldn’t happen to have anything to get rust off of a steel crate would you?” asked Marco as politely as he could, not taking the chance of arousing his old friend again.
“I might. I’d have to take a look at the thing first to figure out what exactly to use on it. Take me to your crate. Let’s see what we have to work with,”
By now everyone onboard, save for Crowe and Edgar, had gathered around this mysterious crate. Everyone had their own idea as to its contents, but they all agreed it had to be something very valuable to be locked up so tightly. They all watched as Kozaki scrutinized the monstrosity to decide which of his many concoctions to use on it.
“Hmm. Yes. Indeed. Oh yeah. Ho ho I think I have just the thing back in my cabin.,” said Kozaki at last, seeming satisfied with his assumption.
“It figures the one concoction that you need is the only one that you didn’t bring!” chuckle Crowe who seemed to come out of nowhere with Edgar right behind him. Kozaki had brought with him a full stock of all the chemicals he thought could possibly work on the crate.
“Never one to pass up a joke, eh Captain? Now if you‘ll excuse me,” retorted Kozaki with a grunt. If anyone else had said that to Kozaki they would’ve gotten an earful about respecting their elders or insulting a scientist or anything else that came to mind during his tirade. “Just gimme a couple o’ minutes and I’ll be back with something that will be more that enough to get this stubborn ol’ rust off,”
While he waited for Kozaki to get back Crowe did his own investigation of the anomalous crate. After taking a close look at each side from numerous angles he came across something peculiar. A single word, extremely faded and barely visible under layers of rust and algae, was inscribed on each side of the box. What that word was no one could tell. It was in a language that no one had ever seen before.
“What does it mean, Captain?” asked Oxeye, the navigator. It was widely believed amongst the crew that Crowe knew everything, because it often seemed like he did.
“Well, I may have an idea of what this words means but I am by no means certain. I do however think I know the language from which the word comes. It’s a long dead language. Only a handful of people in the whole world speak it, and they’re not even very good at it. I believe it’s called Muah. If I remember my history correctly, it was spoken by a tiny civilization living on an island that was suddenly wiped out overnight by a colossal tsunami triggered by a massive undersea earthquake,” explained Crowe as if reading from a text book. “Ah, Kozaki good timing! Everyone was getting impatient. Did you find what you need?”
“Oh yes. A few drops of this stuff should be enough for our purposes,” said Kozaki with a glean in his eye.
“You sure?”
“Of course I am! I invented this stuff myself,” Proclaimed Kozaki, swelling with pride. “My special brew is the absolute best of its kind and don’t you forget it!”
With absolute precision so as not to waste a single drop Kozaki applied a few drops of a strange bubbling green liquid to each rust-covered site. As if by magic the rust seemed to just vanish revealing the brilliance of the steel beneath.
“If that’s all I’ll be heading back to cabin. I was a hairsbreadth away from finally turning lead into gold before I was so rudely interrupted,” and with that Kozaki disappeared back below deck.
“Now, how to go about cracking this egg…?” pondered Oxeye’s brother Hawkeye, the ship’s marksman.
“Quite simple really,” piped up Antonio after being silent for far too long for his liking. “We just need to go about attacking the joints,”
“Hmm, why didn’t I think of that?” grumbled Marco to himself.
“Good thinking, mate,” said Crowe with a bit of a smirk on his face and glancing quickly toward Marco. “I see Marco has taught you well,”
Almost immediately Crowe, Marco and a couple of the more burly crew members attacked the box with whatever tools happened to be lying around. After a long afternoon of dismantling the crate at long last collapsed revealing its contents. Disappointingly, most of what was inside of the crate was destroyed. Old logbooks, saturated to the point of illegibility, sea charts that ripped at the touch, and numerous other things damaged beyond repair filled the crate.
“We worked all afternoon for a bunch of soggy books?” grunted Luigi, the navigator who was among those who toiled away on the crate. “What a waste of an afternoon,”
“I don’t see it as a waste,” replied Edgar. “I see it as a mystery to be solved. Why were these things at the bottom of the sea? Was somebody trying to hide something? It’s all so enticing,”
“That’s the right attitude!” said Crowe with a broad grin across his face. “Hey look at this! This little box here looks doesn’t appear to be breached. What ever is inside is probably still as dry as the day it was sent to the bottom of the ocean. There is just the small matter of the lock.”
With a quick smirk Crowe through the box up in the air and with a flourish of his katana his sliced the lock clean in two without even touching the box. Within the box was but a single scroll adorned with the same writing as on the side of the crate.
“That strange language again!” grumbled Luigi, feeling utterly defeated at this point.
“That’s not going to stop us though!” exclaimed Crowe, more excited than ever now. “We’re gonna solve this mystery, no matter what. I think it’s time we paid a visit to an old friend of my. Oxeye! Set course for Port Hartford. We’re going to the library!”
~Port Hartford~
Port Hartford is a port town full of scholars and scientists with a thirst for knowledge. Most who come to Port Hartford come there for one of the two world famous universities on either side of the town or more likely the extravagant library in the heart of the town, Library Martanica If you needed information about anything at all you can most likely find it in the library. People from all over the world with an undying thirst for learning flock to this giant library. The man in charge is a kindly soul named Professor Jerand. Crowe met the professor many years ago and has maintained a friendship ever since.
The town local usually don’t take too kindly to pirates. They like to maintain a positive image for their town. Crowe, however, has an understanding with Navy officers maintaining watch over the town. As long as his crew doesn’t cause any trouble they will be aloud to dock their ship at the harbor, but for no more than a day, lest the citizens become discontented. Crowe made it a point to become friendly with most everyone he met, including the Navy. His philosophy: “The fewer people who hate you, the less you will have to worry about,” and that usually proved to be true. His crew was only pirate crew ever allowed to dock at the Navy’s headquarters, Naval Base Island.
Although they were allowed to dock their ship at the harbor Crowe was reluctant to leave it alone, so the majority of his mates he left on the ship just to be safe. With him he brought along Edgar, Marco, because was the who found the crate, and Kozaki who, as a man of science, who allow the chance to study in the fabled Library Martanica slip by.
The library stood higher than every other building in town. It could by seen from miles away. Its shiny frame sometimes even served as a beacon for wayward adventurers. Adorning the central tallest spire was a magnificent clock complimented by beautiful solid gold arms and numbers. Every hour the clock chimed for everyone within ten miles to hear.
As soon as they entered the hallowed halls of Martanica they all split up. Kozaki went in search of some old dusty volumes that have probably been unopened in decades to further his own research. Marco perused the shelves for books about fishing, fish, fishing spots, anything about fishing really. An ancient dust coated book about ancient warfare caught Edgar’s eye and soon he was immersed in it. Crowe got down to business and hunted out Professor Jerand. In a library this vast finding him could be quite the task. Crowe lucked out. He found the professor sitting at his desk in the back amid the oldest and dustiest books reading a tome entitled 101 Ways to Lose a Toe. (Jerand was known for as well as being fabulously brilliant but also a bit off kilter.)
“Hey Professor! How ya been old chum?” asked Crowe jubilantly.
No response
“Uh professor! Anyone home? It’s your old protégé Crowe!”
Still no response
“Fine then. I’ll just wait for you to finish that fascinating novel. I’m in no hurry,”
With a thud Jerand closed his book raising up a thick cloud of dust. “I all those hours I spent lecturing you about patience wasn’t for naught,” whispered Jerand (It is a library, after all) with a wry grin. “So what brings you to my humble library?”
“I have something I think you may be able to translate for me, professor,” said Crowe, now whispering as well. “Here take a look at it,”
“Hmm, now this is interesting,” Jerand said, speaking a bit louder now. “How did you come across this?”
“My men fished a giant steel crate out of the sea. Must of the contents were either totally illegible or disintegrating. This scroll was the only thing still intact,”
“The language of the scroll is spoke by only a few people in the whole world,”
“I know all about it, Professor,”
“Yes, but unfortunately I’m not among those few, I regret to say,” sighed Jerand, A bit ashamed that there was something he did not know. “However, I do know someone who does. A man named Silas in the horrid town of Rockport. He is actually descendent of the Muah people. If I recall correctly, his ancestor left the Island of the Muah before it was catastrophically wiped out. You should go pay Silas a visit,”
“Thank you, I’ll do that,” replied Crowe gratefully. “But professor, where in Rockport will I find him?”
“He lives in a small shack on the poor side of town,”
“There’s a poor side of Rockport?”
“Well, poorer side,”
The town of Rockport is filled with roughnecks and hooligans. No one in that town is rich by any standard. Everyone is either poor or very poor.
“If all else fails you can just ask around for him. He’s actually well known in that town for his skills with a blade. Now be off with ya! I want to finish my book,” said Jerand, back to his old hushed tone.
~Rockport~
Rockport was a long way from Port Hartford. So far that Crowe had time to recall the last time he visited Rockport along with the legend of one the most powerful pirates ever to sail the ocean, Captain Volsung.
Crowe joined Volsung’s crew after being rejected from the Navy. When the Navy denied him he set off on his own to find his own adventures. After sailing in his tiny boat for what seemed like an eternity he finally drifted to Rockport. He was in a very sorry state as his food supply was depleted long ago. Crowe staggered ashore hoping to find something to eat. Before he could get anywhere he was surrounded by the hooligans Rockport was known for.
“Hey, look at this scrawny kid!” one sneered.
“I never seen you around. Just where did you come from kid?” another asked almost rhetorically.
“I set sail from Naval Base Island,” Crowe managed to choke out amid gasps.
“Don’t tell me yer with Navy!” a third squawked with an unusually high voice for a man. “They must really be lowing their standards!”
“I’m not. They wouldn’t let me cause’ I wasn’t good enough with a sword,”
“If yer no good with a blade that what are ya doin’ with that their fancy blade at yer hip?” the first asked eying the beautifully forged longsword at Crowe’s hip.
“I’ll never get better if I don’t have a blade to practice with,” Crowe retorted back coolly.
“I don’t think you deserve such a handsome blade. Why doncha just hand it over nice and easy?” The high pitched one said almost sweetly.
“I’ll pass if ya don’t mind,” said Crowe, turning around and starting to walk away.
“Uh uh, you don’t get to just walk away from us!” shouted the second on with the flames of fury now burning in his eyes as they all drew their own weapons.
Just as they lunged toward weak and defenseless Crowe a giant, menacing figure stepped in the way and dispatched all three of the thugs with one swing of his colossal ax.
“Worthless scum! Picking on a mere kid who can’t even defend himself!” the giant growled. “You okay kid?”
“I’ve been worse. I’ve been better too,” Crowe replied as if this was nothing out of the ordinary. “You know, I didn’t need any help, but thanks anyway. You saved me from exerting what little energy I have left,”
“Kid, I like your style! The name’s Volsung, Captain Volsung that is!” the giant roared with delight. “You look like you could use a bite to ear or perhaps two. Why don’t you come with me to the tavern down the street here for some grog and less-than-fine dining. I’ll even introduce ya to some of me crew?”
“Well I’m not gonna pass up on free food. My name’s Crowe by the way,”
“Crowe, eh? Nice name. Kid stick with me and I know you’ll go far. I guarantee it!”
From that day on Crowe was a member of Captain Volsung’s illustrious Pirate Crew. While traveling with Volsung, Crowe polished his sword skills. He became so skilled no one in the crew could even stand chance against him. Crowe also made a couple of really good friends- Locke Seward and Izzy Dexter. Locke is brash and rough talking. He became famous for his prowess with his giant two-handed sword. Izzy has an I.Q. of over 180 but not much common sense. He is also very skilled with slingshots and bows. They became inseparable. They trained together and became strong together, Crowe and Locke with their respective sword styles and Izzy with his bow and slingshot.
For ten years Crowe was a member of Volsung’s crew. It wasn’t until Volsung started go a little insane from his old age that Crowe finally left the crew. Volsung had become irrational and dangerous. So when they docked at Rockport Crowe, Locke, and Izzy decided to abscond from Volsung and his crew.
They took refuge in a tavern on the other side of the island, as far away as possible from Volsung’s unpredictable wrath. They picked the wrong bar to hide in, however. As soon as they arrived in the bar the Navy swooped in to shut it down. Why it was to be shut down, Crowe was never sure, but the Navy never needed a reason to shut a place down. In all the confusion Crowe, Locke, and Izzy were separated. Locke was and arrested, presumably taken to the prison on Naval Base Island. Izzy fled somewhere in to the city. Crowe escaped on to the passenger ship the three of them were planning on taking from the start. Crowe waited for the other two to show up but they never did. He watched bitterly as Rockport disappeared beyond the horizon.
Ever since then Crowe has been searching for his two best friends, as well as his other pirate adventures.
“Land Ho! Rockport dead ahead Captain!” bellowed Oxeye loud enough for Crowe as well as everyone else to hear.
Crowe could sea Rockport in the distance. It was just a mere sliver on the horizon. But after the seemingly unending trip it was a welcome sight. Even though it was still miles out, Rockport’s signature stench of sweat, blood, and trash was already evident. It’s not tough to figure out why Crowe did everything he could to avoid going anywhere near this wretched island of rogues and thieves of the worst kind. The one positive aspect of Rockport is that the Navy is rarely seen if ever. The place is an anarchy of the worst kind, but oddly enough it’s a successful anarchy. The town is chaotic, but it’s a systematic chaos.
“Everybody get ready to hold your breathe because we’re about to pull into port!” Crowe hollered with a snicker.
After a bit of hunting they found a place to dock the ship. In a place like this there was no way Crowe was going to leave his ship unattended. He wanted as much protection as possible for it so he left everyone onboard set off on his own in search of the fabled Silas.
The farther Crowe went into town the worse the smell became. People who live here eventually learn to breathe through their mouth. As he walked down the street Crowe was careful not to look anyone in the eye. The last thing he wanted was to get into a brawl with a gaggle of hooligans who don’t fight fair. Oddly, when Crowe got to the “poorer” side of town the smell seemed to lessen. Although he might’ve just been getting used to it.
“Well, well, well, if it ain’t me ol’ chum the brat with the fancy sword!” cackled an all too familiar high-pitched voice from the shadows of a dark alley.
“Do I know you?” Crowe said, honestly having no idea who he was talking to.
“It’s been at least ten years but yes you know us,” jeered another as three figures staggered out from the darkness.
“Ten years? Oh wait you must be those guys I ran into the first time I came to Rockport!” Crowe said almost seeming happy to see them, as if running into some friends he hadn’t seen in years. “How ya been?”
“Shut up!” one of growled. “This time you don’t have anyone to save yer hide, whelp!”
“This time I don’t need any help,” Crowe snickered with a boyish grin. “But I hope it doesn’t have to come to that,”
“That’s awfully big talk from someone so scrawny,” said the high-pitched one. “Lets see if you can back it up!
All three came at him, swords brandished, lusting for revenge. Crowe, without even blinking, deflected their attacks and send them sprawling with a dazzling flurry of swings from his longsword.
“Oh, by the way, if you don’t mind me asking, how do you guys still remember me?” asked Crowe as if nothing had even happened. “That old incident was over ten years ago,”
“If you must know, its your hair,” one explained “Its kinda hard to forget hair that shade of red,”
“Well it’s been good seeing you guys, but I’ve got places to be,” said Crowe walking away.
“No! You are not getting away again!” the high-pitched one squealed. He let loose a piercing whistle that was probably heard throughout the town. Out of every side street, back alley, and shanty lining the filthy street thugs, hooligans, and roughnecks emerged as if they had been waiting for the whistle. Crowe was great with his swords, but taking down this many opponents was beyond his capabilities. Nevertheless, he maintained his grin and optimism, although now they were mostly feigned.
“Now this should be much more of a challenge!” Crowe said, now sounding a bit nervous. As he said this he thought to himself “I can’t wait to see how I’m gonna finesse my way out of this one?” He knew he stood little chance being so greatly outnumbered. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and they’ll have no real skills in a fight,”
“You ain’t getting out of this one!” someone in the crowd enemies shouted.
“Just fork over yer fancy swords and we may just let you get away alive!” the high-pitched one hollered from somewhere in the fray.
“Hey little buddy, need a hand!?” shouted someone up above somewhere.
Everyone looked around to find the unidentified voice. Up on the roof of the rickety building behind him Crowe spotted his ally.
“Locke, you old scalawag, what took you so long?” shouted Crowe with delight as if expecting Locke to show up that whole time.
“You’ll have to forgive me for not getting receiving the memo that you were back in town!” Locke bellowed with a hearty laugh. Locke looked much the same as day when Crowe, Locke, and Izzy parted ways. The one major difference was the cross-shaped scar on Locke’s right cheek. Strapped to his back was his signature two-handed sword, chipped and dinged from innumerable confrontations.
“Who’s this guy now?” someone groaned.
“Just a friend of mine, is all. Just a friend.” Crowe said calmly. “Oh and to answer your question, Locke, help would be appreciated.”
“Good to here it!” said Locke in his customary booming voice and leapt from the top of the building into the mass of thugs swinging his blade wildly. With his sword style he could take down hordes of enemies with ease. This band of hooligans was no more than a group of targets for Locke’s fearsome blade. With only five swings Locke took down every single one of them.
Locke sheathed his blade then, forgetting all about the guys he just cleaved up, asked, “So, what brings you here to my humble trash heap?”
Crowe explained everything to Locke about his current adventure. Locke, never one to pass up a chance for adventure, decided to rejoin his old buddy.
“So you said you were looking for old Silas, huh? I know where he lives. Follow me,” Locke boomed. He always seemed to be yelling, even when he was happy.
After meandering through the increasingly filthy roads of Rockport they eventually stumbled upon Silas’s shack.
“Hey, uh, Mr. Silas! Are you in?” Crowe shouted into shanty.
“Pipe down! I’m not deaf!” yelled back a hoarse, crackly voice. “Kids these days, always assuming everyone older than them is deaf. (grumble, grumble),”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Yeah, yeah,” grumbled Silas. “Well, what do ya want, anyway?”
“I have something I think you may be able to translate for me,”
“Well, come one. Let’s see it. Your lucky I don’t have anything better to do,”
“Yes, sir. Thank you. Uh, here it its. What do you think?”
“Oh now this is something I never expected to see! My own native language!”
“Well, what does it say?” (Locke has been silent this whole time. He’s actually rather shy around strangers.)
“It appears to be directions to someplace. I’m by no means fluent in the Muah language so I can’t be sure, but it also seems to be describing some treasure of some sort. Wait, I know this treasure! You would be too young to know about it, but at one time every pirate worth his salt set out after this treasure. No one really knew what exactly it was or even how the rumors of it got started, but everybody wanted it. People stopped looking for it suddenly when one day a pirate showed claiming to have found the treasure, or at least where the treasure was supposed to be. He said when he and the rest of his crew arrived the treasure was long gone. That pirate appears to be the one who wrote this scroll. How he knew the ancient language I know not, but he appeared to want his dirty little secret,”
“Secret? What secret?” Locke suddenly chimed in.
“He lied. If I’m translating this right, and I’m not sure I am, they did find the treasure. Evidently, whatever power bestowed by the treasure was, it came with a terrible price. I can’t quite glean what that cost is, I can’t be sure, but I was horrible enough to make this pirate try to conceal the existence of the treasure.
“What about the treasure, though.?” asked Locke suddenly now thoroughly engaged in the conversation. “Can you tell what it is?”
“What it is exactly the scroll doesn’t say, but from what I can make out has something to do with immortality,” Silas explained almost frightened by what he was saying.
“And what of those directions?” Crowe asked unfazed by Silas’s proclamation. He was more interested in getting to the prize than the prize itself.
“Ah yes, of course. It says from the northwest corner Naval Base Island sail 78 degrees northeast for exactly 47 kilometers then travel due west,”
“Is that all?” Crowe asked, quite puzzled.
“Quite all,” said Silas as he turned to go back inside. “The rest you will have to figure out on your own. Good luck.”
~The High Seas~
Crowe was hoping that the trip to Naval Base Island would be uneventful so he would have time to catch up with Locke. He would not get his wish. About half a day into their trip the ship was engulfed by an ominous wall of fog that seemed to come out of nowhere. The fog was dark and foreboding. It even seemed to beckon them in, as if it wanted to devour the ship. As they sailed deeper in the fog the appeared to be leaving the real world behind and were ensnared in a world between worlds. After what seemed like an eternity Crowe spotted a shadowy form deeper in the fog. As they came closer to the form it took the shape of a ship, a ship that Crowe seemed to know. As the ghostly ship emerged from the mist, Captain Crowe’s face grew ever whiter as he realized what he was seeing. He never thought he would see that ship again, the infamous Blackbird, the ship of the all powerful Captain Volsung. It was widely believed that the Blackbird has sunk to the bottom of the sea in a great storm many years ago. Crowe always doubted that, as he knew just how skilled Captain Volsung was at sea, but as the years dragged on he began to doubt that Volsung and his legendary crew were still alive. As Crowe scoured the ship for signs of life he saw a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his life, the ragged, run-down form of Captain Volsung at the wheel, navigating through the fog. Volsung looked like a shell of his former self. As the ghostly ship crept ever closer, Crowe wasn’t sure what to expect. Captain Volsung had the look on his face he always wore when he was about to go into battle. Crowe was hesitant to order his crew to take up battle positions. Taking another glance at the Blackbird he saw more figures scurrying about the deck of the ship. One person in particular caught his attention. The light glinted of his glasses in an all too familiar fashion. He knew in an instant He had found his old buddy Izzy Dexter. He had a terrified look about him. His was the face of someone desperate to be rescued. Crowe was about to call out to him when Captain Volsung’s voice rang out for all to hear.
“Captain Crowe! Yes I know that’s you on that ship! I also know that Locke is with you as well. Now is not the time for joyful reunions. I have come with a warning that you would be foolish to ignore. I know what your after! I went after it myself and just look what became of my and my crew. End your journey now! Continuing this foolish quest can only end in disaster! You have been warned!” After his grand proclamation Captain Volsung’s ship became to retreat back into the fog.
As the ship disappeared Crowe heard a splash where Volsung’s ship was a moment ago, followed by frantic paddling. He looked into water and saw Izzy swimming madly toward his ship.
“Somebody! Through that lad a line!” Locke shouted. “We need to pull that lad in!”
Hawkeye grabbed the nearest rope and tossed overboard, almost forgetting to hang on to one end. With a grunt and heave, Hawkeye with the help of his brother, Oxeye, and Locke fished Izzy out of the sea.
“Hey Marco!” shouted Hawkeye, with a roguish smirk. “You ever catch anything this big?”
“Can’t say I have, Hawk,” Chuckled Marco.
“(cough, hack) Hey! I’m not now nor have I ever been a fish!” Izzy managed to choke out while catching his breath.
“It’s good to have you back ol’ buddy!” Crowe said trying not to laugh. “You’ll have to tell me of your adventures when you recover.”
~Naval Base Island~
Crowe and Locke just can’t agree on the course they should take to Naval Base Island. Crowe is adamant about heading due north and then following the Nordstrum Current straight west to the island. This route would be a bit slower, but it’s much safer. The ever ambitious Locke insists on following the current tailwind straight to the island. This would be fast, but would take them straight through a big storm.
“I don’t see why we need to take any risks here, old buddy,” Insisted Crowe coolly.
“If this, uh, whatever it is is so great than who knows how many others are looking for it!” Reasoned Locke vigorously. “Time is of the essence, old chum!”
“Ah, but you forget, I’m the captain here and on this ship my word is law, old pal!” Proclaimed Crowe rather proudly. “If that’s okay with everyone else.”
“Well then what say we settle this like men,” Said Locke with a glint in his eye as he stroked his massive blade.
“Same old Locke,” Chuckled Crowe, as he drew his trusty longsword. “Fine then, have at you!”
Their clash raged on for what seemed to them an eternity. The metallic clang of steel on steel could be heard throughout the ship. As always they were evenly matched, even though Locke’s sword was almost twice the size of Crowe’s. His speed and agility made up for his sword’s lack of size.
Eventually they both collapsed from exhaustion. They each clambered to their feet and staggered back outside into the sunlight.
“What happened to the storm?” gasped Locke through staggered breaths.
“While you two were having your fun we sailed right through it!” shouted one of the crewman.
“Well, I guess you one that one, old buddy!” Crowe laughed weakly.
They docked the ship amid suspicious stares from Navy men aboard their own ships.
“Ahoy, Honorable members of the Navy!” Crowe hollered as nicely as he could to the other ships. “Don’t you worry about us! We have permission to dock our ship! Just ask the Admiral! After that the Navy men when back to their own business disdainfully.
“Alright you guys! Load of the ship with any supplies we’re gonna need. Then get the to the northwest corner of the island and get the ship pointed in the right direction. Izzy can help you guys with that if he’s recovered yet,” Crowe ordered in a new businesslike tone that was unbecoming of him. “I should be back by the time you guys are ready to go,”
“What’re you gonna do Cap’n?” asked Antonio who was sitting on the ship’s prow.
“I’m gonna take a quick trip down memory pain,” Crowe replied rather curtly.
“Don’t you mean “memory lane”?” asked Gustav, the ship’s resident master chef.
“You would think…” mumbled Crowe asked he strolled away.
As he wanders through maze of corridors within the base he recalls the last time he came to Naval Base Island. He was only 16. Crowe was looking forward to fulfilling his lifelong dream of joining the navy. He knew there was no way he would be rejected. What fault could they possibly find with him? He remembered being dumbstruck at the magnificence of the base. Beautiful marble statues lined the halls. The first step to joining the Navy was the written exam. This was no problem. Crowe had been studying everything he would need to know for the past three weeks. He finished the exam before even some guys got theirs. He was perfect. He didn’t miss a single question. The next step was the physical, just to make sure nothing was wrong with him physically. There wasn’t. He was in peak condition. The last step was the practical exam. This exam had two parts, an obstacle course and a swordsmanship test. Being good with a sword was very important in the navy. Crowe bolted through the obstacle course in near record time. Now there was only one thing standing in the way of his dream, the man designated as his opponent for the swordsmanship test, Lieutenant Mason Warren, now Admiral Warren. He was the best swordsman in the entire navy. Crowe, who wasn’t too great with a blade anyway. Looked like a joke compared to Warren. And just like that his dream was quashed. In retrospect he wondered how anyone could look good against Warren. Shortly afterward he met Captain Volsung and, still looking to quench his thirst for adventure, he joined Volsung and officially became a pirate.
Snapping back to reality, Crowe realizes that he has wandered into the courtyard when he was defeated so embarrassingly by Warren. “Humph, good times, goooood times,” Murmured Crowe, bitterness swelling within him as he remembered his humiliation again.
“Halt! State your name and business!” exclaimed a very authoritative voice from behind Crowe.
Crowe turned around and instantly recognized who was yelling at him, his old nemesis, Lieutenant Mason Warren, who was now, judging by the decorations on his uniform, was now Admiral Mason Warren. “It’s been awhile Warren! Hope you haven’t forgotten me!” Crowe shouted as he instinctually drew his two swords.
“How could I forget that insanely red hair?” Warren joked while still remaining stone faced. “Put your swords away boy! This is no time for fighting,”
“You’re right. I guess I just lost my head,” Crowe said filled shame.
“What brings you back here? Come to try to join the Navy again? Well we’re not recruiting at the moment,”
Crowe told Mason of his current travels and what he was after and his encounter with Volsung.
“If Volsung has returned, it may be pertinent to step up Naval patrols around the seas,” said Warren pensively. “When he was around he was a major headache for us naval officers,”
“I suppose he was, and I should know. I was in his crew,”
“Is that so? Hmm, interesting. Well I’ve got things to do so for now I bid you farewell. Let’s hope we meet again,”
Meanwhile, at the northwest corner Crowe’s crew has gotten into a tussle with some ornery naval officers with a grudge against pirates. Locke had made a sarcastic comment on the naval officers. They overheard, took offense, and now the two groups were on the verge of an all out brawl.
“If you know what’s good for you you’ll take back watcha said, scumbag!” One naval officer said. This one is a Petty Officer.
“If it weren’t true than I would, but it is true so ain’t any point in taking it back, it there?” Locke spat back.
“No point!?! How ‘bout I show you the point of my sword?!?” the other shouted. This one is a Lieutenant.
“As if you’d actually be able to even touch me with that wimpy sword!” taunted Locke.
At this point the hullabaloo had attracted the attention of a bunch of other naval officers who came to the aid of their fellow officers. “What do we have here?” one officer sneered. “A bunch of worthless pirates?”
“What’re pirates doin’ here anyway?”
“We can’t have them fouling up our beautiful island!”
“Let’s just run ’em through and be done with it!”
“Yeah!!”
“Brilliant idea, Perkins!”
Now even more officers were showing, so much more now that the pirates were hopelessly outnumbered.
“Uh, Edgar, what do we now?” asked Luigi, who was shaking erratically. As first mate Edgar was the commanding officer when Crowe was away.
“There’s only one thing we can do,” Edgar stammered. “Live to fight another day! To the ship! Marco, weigh anchor! All hands on deck! Company retreat!”
“What about Crowe?” Locke demanded. “I ain’t leaving without him!”
“There’s no time!” Edgar hollered. “Besides I think he’d want it this way,”
“Like hell he would!” Locke cursed back. “You guys get the ship ready to go! I’m gonna try and hold these guys for awhile, gonna see if I can’t buy us some time!”
Locke charged into battle swinging his sword like a madman. Almost instantly he disappeared into the mass of officers. For a split second all was silent, then all hell broke loose as Locke’s giant blade sent bodies flying everywhere. It was all in vain, however, as more officers continued to show up. They just kept coming. Locke was fighting a losing battle and he knew it but he would give up until his friend returned.
In an instant it seemed to be over. The navy had Locke surrounded, their swords all pointing at his neck.
“You lose, punk!” one of them said.
“Hey Locke!” shouted Crowe from the ship. “Stop messing around and get back aboard the ship!”
“What the…?” Locke gasped, utterly dismayed. “When did you get back?”
“’bout five minutes ago. You were doing great until they cornered you!”
“If you got back five minutes ago why didn’t you say something? We could be out of here already!”
“I didn’t know you were waiting for me. I thought you were just having a bit of fun with the Navy!”
“Oh well, time to make my getaway!” sighed Locke right as he made a giant leap over the naval officers and dashed across the gangplank. “Time to shove off!”
The Navy wasn’t about to give up, though. The officers boarded their ships and chased after them. Crowe’s ship was much faster and easily outran the navy, but not before taking a hit from a cannon shot sending shrapnel everywhere.
“Whew, that was took close for comfort!” Crowe sighed with relief. “Everyone in one piece?”
“Captain! Something terrible has happened! Ol’ Farley is dead!”
~Volsung~
Ole Farley will sure be missed, eh Captain?” asked Luigi mournfully through fits of sobbing.
“Aye, but I think me old mate died the way he wanted to.” Responded Crowe not unusually placidly.
“He wanted to be killed by a big chunk of shrapnel to the head?” Sobbed Luigi.
“No, eating.” Quipped Crowe. “You forget he was in the middle of engulfing a giant sea bass all by himself”
“Oh, right. That glutton never seemed to be full,” Responded Luigi through a feigned smile.
“Nope, not even food poisoning could lessen his appetite,” Joked Crowe yet again. “But now that he’s gone I suppose there will be more food for everyone else.”
Farley’s makeshift funeral was just getting done and the rest of the crew were heading back to their posts. Farley was the only one killed in the last battle with the Navy, but with the amount of damage sustained by the ship one would think that there would be more casualties. They got lucky.
“I dunno how you do it captain.” Luigi said through a mixture of weeping and chuckling. “You just keep making jokes. It’s as if you don’t care that you just lost a shipmate and a friend. Come to think of it I don’t recall you ever shedding a tear, not even when your own ma died. Even that you just laughed off.”
“We all grieve in our own ways, Luigi,” replied Crowe as he retreated to his cabin, his usual grin now replaced with a somber grimace.
. . .
“Are we still on course, Oxeye?” Crowe asked, still feeling a bit bitter.
“We were off just a tad, but I think Izzy’s calculation’s I think we’ve corrected ourselves,” replied Oxeye through a sob. Farley was a good friend of his. “That Izzy is a smart fella. We should be making our westward turn by the end of the day. We should reach our ultimate destination sometime tomorrow.”
The rest of the day the ship was mostly silent. The only sounds were some unidentified explosions coming from Kozaki’s cabin, followed his assurance that he was okay. Nobody felt like talking. Farley was the first crewmate they had ever lost. The crew had lost some of its confidence. Nobody really felt like going on. Even Crowe was feeling a bit melancholy, although he did his best to hide it.
When it came time to make the westward turn Crowe decided it best to give the crew a pep talk. He called everyone on deck and told them to “Sit down and shut up!”
“Farley will be missed. None of us deny that. But he wouldn’t want us to waste our time moping around. He would want us to forget about him and keep pushing forward toward our goal. But there is one way to keep his memory alive and I think you all know what that is!”
“All you can eat fish buffet!”
Nothing lifted the Farley’s spirits better than gorging himself on fish. It seemed to have the same effect on the rest of the crew. They had a jolly good time. The whole feast turned into an eating contest. They all ate until they were bursting at the seems. The food stock was almost depleted but it was worth it to get the moral of the crew back up. The winner of the contest, to everyone’s surprise, was Izzy. He may be small but he has a very fast metabolism so he can eat almost nonstop, but he usually prefers to eat in moderation, lest he appear gluttonous.
As they all ate their fill that eerie, end of the world fog returned to engulf the ship once again. The crew’s previous joviality was now replaced by paralyzing fear. They all knew what was coming now. They also knew they were close to the end of their adventure.
After drifting through the fog for quite some time what appeared to be an island emerged from the fog, but before the ship could get even close to it The Blackbird reappeared once again. This time it was accompanied by a fleet of ships that apparently met the same fate as the blackbird. Once again Volsung’s voice echoed across the sea.
“Greed has been your undoing Crowe! You did not listen to me and now you will face the consequences. We can not allow to go any further. It must never be found. Prepare to meet the bottom of the sea! Oh, Izzy! Congratulations on finally escaping me and the curse that afflicts my crew and I. In the end, we all should have listened to you. You were the smart one. You always were.”
The other ships approached Crowe’s ship revealing their own phantasmal crews. Seeing what had become of all these people who came after the treasure he made a new resolution, and to fulfill his resolution he had to find it at all costs!
The ghostly ships began to assail Crowe’s ship with a rain of cannon balls. Although the ship was fast and agile it couldn’t avoid taking hits. The sails were punctured, giant holes were opened up in the hull, and the rudder was completely decimated.
“Look captain, behind us!” shouted Hawkeye.
Coming out of the fog behind them was another fleet of ships.
“Damn! It’s the Navy!” Locke yelled furiously. “What’re they doing here?”
The first ship to become fully visible was captained by Admiral Warren.
“As soon as you see them fire at will!” Warren ordered to his underlings still hidden by the fog.
“Looks like we’re finished guys!” Izzy wailed.
As he said that a ball was propelled out of Warren’s ship over Crowe’s ship and buried itself in to Volsung’s warship.
“Warren! What’s the big idea?” Crowe shouted into the fog.
“The Navy has been waiting to stick it Volsung for years! We ain’t missing this chance! Now go! Go find what you are looking for. We’ll hold him off for you!”
“There’s no way we’ll all make it to that island. Not with all those ships in the way,” Crowe explained to his crew. “A few of us might be able to sneak by though.”
“Ya know I’m going!” Roared Locke with delight.
“Count me in,” Izzy said as he strung his bow and bundled his arrows.
“I’m coming too, Cap’n,” Edgar declared proudly.
“Alright, that’s enough. The rest of you guys hang back and give the Navy any help you can! There’s something I though I’d never say!” Crowe chuckled as he dove into the murky ocean.
The water was unusually cold. The waters in this region are supposed to be warm this time of year. The swim to the island was long and excruciating. Crowe contemplated giving up several times and just slipping into death. He knew what he had to do and he wouldn’t allow himself to give in. At long last he hit land. He gasped for air as he waited for his friends to resurface. Locke and Edgar emerged about fifteen feet away. They waited with bated breath for Izzy, but he never reappeared. Crowe hated to give up on him but he had no choice, they had to press on.
The island was by no means big. It was essentially one big hill. Most of the island’s features were hidden by the fog, but Crowe could make out some sort of structure at the top of the hill. As they got closer to the top the hill got steeper until the peak where it leveled off.
On the peak was a wide, circular, stone platform. In the middle was a gold alter with slot where a spherical object would fit. Around the circumference of the platform were four stone statues, each of a different pirate. Upon close examination Crowe discovered that on each statue a part moves, apparently connected to some sort of mechanism. On one statue the left arm moved, on another the right index finger moved and on another the left ear was movable. It Crowe a few minutes to figure out what moved on the fourth statue. He was just about stumped when he leaned on the statue to think for a moment. He was wrapping his fingers on the eyes when noticed that the right moved in and out like a button.
“Hmm, I wonder what would happen if we moved if we moved all for parts at once?” Crowe pondered.
“Worth a try, I suppose,” Edgar conceded.
Crowe pulled down the left arm of the first statue, Locke pushed in the right index finger of the second statue and Edgar wiggled the left ear of the third statue.
“Uh, now what, Captain?” Edgar asked perplexed. “We’re one man short!”
“If only Izzy was here!” Locke moaned. “He could probably hit that right eye with an arrow from one hundred feet away. Just as he said that an arrow came whizzing out of the fog and bounced of the right eye of the fourth statue.
“Late as usual Izzy!” Crowe hollered out into the fog.
“Sorry about that! I got washed up on the other side of the island,” explained Izzy as he came into sight. “So what are these statues supposed to do anyway?”
“Well, that, I suppose,” said Crowe pointing to the alter.
Now resting upon the alter in the previously empty space is a bright red sphere about the size of a coconut. It glowed so brilliantly that it could probably be seen from miles around.
“Now to take care of business!” Crowe growled as he drew his swords.
“You’ve done well lad, but your quest ends here!”
Crowe whipped around to see Captain Volsung stagger out of fog and take his place guarding the sphere.
“You’re right. It does end here. It all ends here,” Crowe barked.
At that point Volsung charged Crowe, swinging is ax ferociously. Crowe nimbly parried him and made a beeline for the sphere. He was much faster than Volsung. He slashed at the sphere quickly with both of his swords. He was rewarded with a loud clang and two deep cracks in the sphere. At that Volsung stumbled backward as if hit with a boulder. Crowe hacked furiously at the sphere but made no progress beyond the first two cracks.
“Hey, help me! We need to destroy this thing!” Crowe shouted to the other three.
Locke didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately charged furiously, sidestepping Volsung along the way and pummeled the stone adding a fresh gash. Volsung staggered again, this time even worse. Edgar charged next. Volsung didn’t even try to stop him. He whipped out his signature weapon, a pair of short axes, and open up is own cracks in the sphere. Volsung could no longer remain standing.
“Izzy! Finish this!” Crowe screamed.
Izzy pulled out his trusty slingshot and loaded it with Pop Rocks, his own invention, stones that explode on contact. He took careful aim and fired. The shot buried itself deep within one of the cracks and exploded, obliterating the sphere.
Volsung let out an earsplitting shriek and disappeared along with the sphere. As the fog began to dissipate Crowe thought he heard a whispered “thank you.” Volsung’s ship, along with the other phantom ships, were nowhere to be found. The Naval fleet was gone as well. The only ship left was his own, The Liberator.
“So what do we do now?” asked Locke squinting in the sunlight.
“it’s a bright new day,” Crowe said with a grin. “The world is ours!”
I found quite a few grammatical errors, but other than that it's great. The description of Crowe was well written, but perhaps you could describe characters more subtley. I understand he's the main character so it makes sense. You could possibly describe the other members through events to show their personalities. The opening is a bit drab, but was also well written. It seems to be monotonous and tiresome to read through, but I'm not saying it's bad at all. It just needs to be trimmed.
