1: Port Royal

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You could practically hear the dramatic music in the background as Captain Jack Sparrow looked at Port Royal.

He wore a proud face, his sun-tanned skin gleaming. He reflected all the soft oranges and yellows of the morning sun. The wind pulled on the flag and his his messy, long brown hair. He stood straight and tall, looking determined.

Only to look down at his sinking dory.

Jack frowned. He jumped down from his post with a splash, for the whole floor was 3 inches under water. He stumbled about the boat, looking for a bucket. Once he got a hold of it, he got to work. He scooped up water from the inside and threw it out. Perhaps it didn't seem to make a grand difference but he'd do anything to keep this dory afloat. Just long enough, in the least. All he needed was to make it to Port.

As Jack did this, he glanced up. He paused, noting the three decomposed bodies that had hung by their necks. They were still in their clothes, although the cloth was tattered and thin. He dropped the bucket and got off his knees. These were lawless men and women that were dishonored by their own actions and left to hang as a warning. They weren't given a proper burial, leaving their spirits to endless pain and sorrow.

Jack took off his hat and held it over his heart in salute as he read the carved words: PIRATES YE BE WARNED.

Nobody needed to tell Jack that. With god knows how many people looking for his death and many more hating his filthy guts, Jack had much more than a warning. By sheer, dumb luck he was alive. Or perhaps it was a brilliant, cunning mind that was the secret to his survival. And that's what it was all about, right? Survival.

The water and wind carried the dory lazily towards the dock. It sank faster by the minute, each second getting heavier. It was so deep in water that jack was forced to stand above the mast. This, of course, earned him many curious glances from the sailors nearby. They'd first notice the long forgotten bucket floating by and then look up at the peculiar sight. Their tired and dirty faces twisted into bewilderment. Even the drops of sweat above their foreheads seemed to still to look at Jack.

But Jack proudly looked straight ahead, the dory continuing to sunk under his feet. It was still taken forward by the current, stopping right next to the dock, allowing Jack to step off the mast effortlessly. And to think it was all by chance.

Jack went along the dock like he owned it. The sailors had already gone back to their heavy work and no one would pay him any attention.

Or so he thought.

"Wha-" Jack brushes past the Harbormaster. The man turned to him, looking at him sharply from underneath his glasses. "Hold up there, you!" Jack stepped down abruptly and turned to face him. "It's a shilling to tie up your boat to the dock."

Jack squinted at him and then down to the nearly completely sunken dory. Practically only the flag was above water.

The Harbormaster didn't seem to notice or didn't care. "And I shall need to know your name."

Jack shrugged it off and reached into his pockets. "What to you say to three shillings-" he placed them over the Harbormaster record book. "-and we forget the name."

The little black boy the accompanied that Harbormaster raised his eyebrows. The Harbormaster himself smiled and said, "Welcome to Port Royal, Mr. Smith."

Jack nodded at him gratefully and went on his way. He stopped in front of the Harbormasters bag of coins. He shook them to hear the coins jingle and stole it. It was hardly a difficult task.

Jack continued along the port, his steps swaying as his did. It wasn't for being a drunk that he walked this way, or at least not fully, but it was actually his long days at sea that caused an imbalance in his walk. Whenever someone watched him it was like he was walking aboard a ship. Like he was still in the sea.

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