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"You are the Captain now, So you may call it whatever you like." Hassim said. I think I'm going to enjoy this. As we sailed, we told tales, sang songs and drinked our way back the Caribbean.'
 
"You are the Captain now, So you may call it whatever you like." Hassim said. I think I'm going to enjoy this. As we sailed, we told tales, sang songs and drinked our way back the Caribbean.'
 
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[[Category:POTCO Stories]]

Latest revision as of 16:25, 8 July 2016

You may have heard about the Goldvane Trilogy, but i can reassure you that my adventures are no where as good as his. You don't believe me, then read them yourself, then come back here and tell the difference.

Chapter One: The Repeater cannon

Isla Tormenta, 1753

'It was a cold and foggy night, and the crew and I aboard the Sea Runner were making our way back from Outcast back to Tortuga when we were attacked by an unknown ship. The Runner sank and we were trapped on the Island, and we all knew about the rumors about Davy Jones and his crew. We then saw the ship that attacked us: an East India Trading Company ship, but it was landing by the sound and carrying something. We moved in for a closer look, hiding in the brush. They were setting up something unusual on a tripod-like base. The fog quickly blew away and the moon shone bright on what looked like a deck gun. They then placed a crate in front of the tripod and on the other side of the beach, they placed a sack of potatos with an eyepatch and wooden sword.

"This will be interesting to watch." said one EITC officer, as two crewmen approached the gun. By the wave of his hand, the crew worked the device. powder filled the air as small steel bullets punched the sack like paper at a amazing rate. The officer raised his arm and the crew stopped.

"Excellent. I'm sure Lord Beckett will be pleased to know of the results." He heard a rustle behind him and walked towards the gun, swung it loose towards our bush and turned a handle. The gun tore the bush apart, killing the crew. I had hid behind a boulder, my pistol in hand. Suddenly, the gun stopped and musket fire was present. I looked over to see the enemy getting attacked by Davy Jones' goons, leaving the gun unprotected. "With that kind of firepower, We might actually defeat Jolly!" I ran out of cover towards the gun.

'It was an amazing device, with at least five different barrels, all connected to a brass ring and cylinder near the end. A straight steel box lingered over the cylinder and a wooden handle was just below it on the right. I tried to lift it, but the thing was so darn heavy. I pulled out me Corsair's Cutlass and slashed it off the tripod, then dragged it towards their rowboat. Fortune have it that they left the oars inside, but I struggled getting the thing inside without getting it wet. After a minute, the gun was in the boat and I pushed it out into the water, but it wasn't long until the EITC noticed and fired at me, but by then it was too late. I had rowed off with a new prize.'

"If your wondering what happened to it, it's safely stored away somewhere on Tortuga along with the spare twenty-four pound cannons. I just so happened to 'misplace' the map to its exact location."

Chapter Two: The Cadiz Raid of 1760

Cadiz, Spain 1760

'It was a calm and moonlit night in the City of Cadiz, Spain. The Harbor was a dull as within the Fortress walls, there was an uproar and gunfire. My crew had snuck into port as one of their Privateer ships from the Caribbean and was after a certain book that they had recently recovered. We didn't know what was in the book, but it may be worth a pretty pound if we got are hands on it. More importantly, it was a certain something else that brought us here, and the book was just one of them. I was after a chest, not Davy Jone's chest but something else. A lead from Havana said a British vessel was sunk off its coast and its cargo came ashore, along with a small box that was made from barrel planks. Could this have been my chest that was stolen from me back at Kingshead? Only one way to find out.

'The fortress was on high alert when rumors of a pirate ship amongst the Royal Privateering Fleet had came to port, and the cannons were already primed and loaded, aiming at thier own ships. The Crew went on the distraction like we rehearsed back on Tortuga while I went for the items said above. Searching high and low, I found the chest and the book as well, but before I had a chance to take them, a guard walked in and grabbed the book. So much for that, but he had left the chest. It had been forced open and most of the contents burned or removed, but that didn't stop me from taking it back. I looked inside to see that the Colony map had been smugged by the water and the letters home read and tossed into the fire nearby. All that was left was some blank maps, some writing utensils and a small bottle. I decided to grab the papers and bottle just as the guard returned. He pulled out his sword as I pulled out the Corsair. We fought a while until more showed up, this lot had guns, So I jumped out the window and onto a nearby hay cart. I completely missed the cart and landed flat on my face.

'The fighting raged on as we ran like dogs to the harbor, where the remainder of the crew prepared the Mercenary for launch. Most of the crew made it aboard while I came behind, only to be blocked by a pile of crates lit aflame by the Spanish. I turn around to see a bunch of them aiming down their sights, and an officer holding up his sword. I looked around for an escape and if by mere luck, the cannon lift was right above me and over the fire onto another portion of the dock just right by the Mercenay. With sword still in hand, I cut the rope, dropping the cannon as the Spanish pulled their triggers. I soared into the air and fell beside the Mercenary, the Spanish firing the cannons from the fortress.

"Did you get the book?" one crewman asked, everyone was anxious.

"No. But they did have my chest and left these behind." I held up the papers. The crew was confused and angry. I pulled out the bottle and poured it over one of the papers. Invisible ink comes in handy as charts and maps suddenly appear, reveiling sevcret locations of the Repeater cannon, any spare twenty-four pound cannons and even another ship, but the crew wanted the book.

"Tell you what. What do you say if I buy you all drinks back in Tortuga. Will we call it square there?" a breif pause and the crew agreed. The night was soon full of laughter and sickness as the spanish guitar played.'

"I was glad that I found me chest, but upset that those Spanny pigs burned most of it, including some entries in my journal. (This was all reponse to the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie, reference to Cadiz and the book found on the ancient sailor at the start.) I now owe the Tavern keeper nearly 300 pounds worth of rum in return for the crew not sending me back to Cadiz in chains. As for the chest..."

Chapter Three: Rumors, Lies and Ezio

Padres del Fuego, Caribbean, 1772

Note: The name Ezio is copyright of Ubisoft's Assassin's Creed II. (I've been playing it for a little while now)

'No doubt I've been followed by the EITC for the past ten years now, led by this Neban the Silent. I've heard rumors of him carrying a sword he stole from an Italian that has some certain attributes to it, and look where it got me; almost killed when following a lead in Port Royal's underground. Too many lies, too many rumors, but isn't that what makes a pirate? Instead, I've decided to take my own leads, to Beckett's Quarry here on Padres. With my pardon letters from England, I was able to simply walk through without a worry, though my past still lingers in my wake. The EITC as still suspicious about me, but even they have to abide to the pardon. These tunnels are massive, and the temperature is unbearable being bored into the side of an active volcano, and that's where I found him, standing beside a lava flow.

"I've hunted you over the years, pirate. Now it seems you saved me the trouble to find you." He pulled out the sword, the actual sword. I slowly pulled the Corsair out and waited for him to strike. He did. We fought hard and long until he tripped back, dropping the sword, and plummitted into the flow. I always felt sorry for my opponent, but this was an exception. I then gazed at the sword and examined it by hand, near the hilt was a name carved in.

"Ezio. Hmm, nice name for a cutlass." I tore off part of my shirt and wrapped it around, then calmly walked back out of the quarry.'

'I decided to let a good friend of mine in Port Royal take a look, to see if it had the certain attributes the rumors told about.

"Well, let's see here." He said. After minutes of examing, he returned with a paper and the sword. "This is a rare example of an Assassin's Cutlass, especially an Italian forged back in 1511 I believe, judging by the condition of the hilt. Make's you Immune to poison and acid, while poisoning the opponent. Where did you get this anyway? Only a few were ever made." He asked. I didn't say, but only thanked him, payed his usual fee, and went on my way.'

"Ezio is now by my side, replacing the Corsair on occasions. Who know's how long that will last whenever I find the Broadsword of the Inquisition. Probably no time soon."

Chapter Four: Pardons

Port Royal, Jamaica 1774

'The Morning sun had just began to rise over the wharf as I awoke from a long night out at sea. I had done favors for the Navy, dealing with the undead ships just off the coast of Padres. I had started a company dealing with them, along with other dead end jobs to earn more money after a fancy job on the Mercenary. Just then, there was a knock at the door. It was the tavern keep just below. I had bought the second floor from him after leaving my home in Tortuga to start a new life as a 'Gentlemen Pirate' so to speak. Old habits die hard.

"Good morning sir. Some gentlemen are here to see you." He said.

"Tell them I'll be out in a few minutes, and offer them anything in the meantime." I said.

"They seem pretty eager to talk now."

"Alright, let them in then. Getting dress will just have to wait." I walked towards the door, still in my sleeping outfit. second floor consisted of a bedroom and an office, with a pretty view of the wharf just below. Waiting for us were two delegates by the look of them.

"Can I help you gentlemen? Is there something that needs to be done? Are you going to hang me here and now?" I asked.

"No Senior, We represent our nations of Espania and England. I am the Count La Poroza and this is Mr. Hood of York. We wish to discuss a certain topic... in peace." The second delegate looked at the tavern keep. He quietly exited the room as I took my seat behind the desk.

"This isn't about my days of a pirate, is it? I was hoping to put that behind me." I said.

"Rest at ease, my good friend. You don't have to worry about that anymore." Hood pulled out two peices of parchment, both containing the royal seals of the King George the thrid and King Ferdinand of Spain. I took the letter from King George and read to myself. I stopped midway and couldn't believe it. I then look to the gentlemen before me.

"These are pardon letters." They nodded.

"The Age of Piracy is slowly dying down, and the royalties are pardoning all pirates who once fought against us. Mind you, these are very rare and you are lucky enough to get one."

"Will you sign and start anew, Senior Roberts?" I looked at the letters once more, then the quill beside them. 'Do I finally get a second chance, or die with my fellow pirates whom I've known and fought aside?' It took me a while, and the delegates were starting to get weary.

"Gentlemen...." I signed the parchments. "I am now a retired Gentleman Pirate." I then stamped my seal onto both parchments and presented to them as if they were gifts.'

Chapter Five: "Al Nadda"

Istanbul, Ottoman Empire, 1775

Note: I am not insulting anyone or anything from the Middle East.

' "How I got here, I'll never know." I said to myself. One minute I was sailing for the New England Coast, and the next I'm in Instanbul harbor, looking for a new ship. The old Sea Runner had run aground near the city wall; mainly crashing into the dock and I need a new ship to get back to the Caribbean. The city itself, on the other hand was pretty, until the shacks and timberworks back home. I had heard stories of this place and it's culture, so I thought up a plan, pure and simple.

"All I got to do is buy a ship and leave. I don't want to overstay my wlecome for too long." I said, walking down the peirs and looking at the guards. The local Bizzare was having an auction over something as I turned the corner, by the looks of it, it was a sloop.

"This galley was one of the finest in the Old Byzantine Empire, before subcoming to the Suliman's Great Fleet. Built around 1511 at this very harbor, it has been refitted for the trades of the West Indies. We start the bid at 1,000 rubble." The auctioner shouted. One man raised his hand; Italian by the look of him.

"I see 1,000. Do I see 2,000?" He shouted once more. This time, I rose mine.

"2,000 rubbles from the man in the back"

"5,000 rubbles!" The Italian shouted.

"10,000 rubbles!" I shouted. The crowd watched as we continued to raise the price.

"17,000 rubbles! Final Offer!" The Italian shouted. The crowd murmered.

"17,000 going, going...." I sweated, then out of shere panic shouted out.

"20,000 rubbles!" The crowd gasped, even the Italian was shocked by this. Who would buy an old ship for that much gold?

"Sold. For 20,000 rubbles!" The auctioner slammed his fist on the crate before him. I walked towards the platform to take the document when I looked at the Italian, and he looked at me.

"I know you, Pirate!" The Italian shouted. "Your the bastadio who stole my ship back in Port Royal!" He was the former owner of the Fortune General. "Guards! Pirate!" He shotued. I took off, taking the deed as the guards rushed into the bizzare. The ship was already out on the water, waiting for the new owner as I rushed aboard.

"Are you the owner?" The first mate asked. I simply showed him the deed and pointed out of the harbor.

"Do you mind If I take the helm?" I shoved the helmsman aside as the ship slowly began to sail out of the harbor. Bells were going off as the harbor chain slowly lifted out of the water, but by then it was too late. The ship had barely cleared the chains, scraping off the stern paint. When we got out of the strait and into the sea, I returned the helm.

"So, Might I ask about the name of the ship?"

"This is the Al Nadda Sri Jhacard. I'm first mate Hassim, at your service." He bowed.

"Al Nadda, huh? Do you mind If I call it the Sea Runner?"

"You are the Captain now, So you may call it whatever you like." Hassim said. I think I'm going to enjoy this. As we sailed, we told tales, sang songs and drinked our way back the Caribbean.'