The Cursed Fleet: A Sea of Thieves Story

Chapter 2: The Rogue

       John sheathed his sword, as the stranger began to choke up. He must have been on the ship from the previous night. While he wasn't the most trusting man on the seas, he felt sorry for the boy, after all, he had lost a father too. He reached his hand out to Les, to help him out of the boat.

       "I'm John, John Loobe. Sorry if I spooked you, I just can't ever be too sure." Les took his offer, and climbed out of the boat. John looked him up and down, sizing up his potential competition, in case things went awry. He was young, probably around the same age as himself, wearing a rag shirt with ropes slung over the shoulder, tattered brown trousers, and some tall boots. The breeze blew through his thick black hair and beard as they ended the handshake.

       "Welcome to paradise mate, I've called it home for about a year now." Said John, as they turned to walk up the path, to his camp. "But don't get to comfortable, you're taking me to Sanctuary Outpost, so I can escape this godforsaken island."

       "Why Sanctuary? What business do you have there? Besides, what's left you stranded here for so long?" asked Les. John swiftly turned, drew his pistol, and pointed it at Les' chest.

       "None of that is your concern, savvy? I am no stranger to pulling the trigger on people who ask too many questions, nor am I afraid to put you down now, and throw you in the bay." He threatened through clenched teeth. "So you have two options. One; help me stock that damn rowboat full of supplies, and take me to Sanctuary Outpost. Or two; I can kill you right now, and you can join your father in Davy Jones' locker, and I'll take care of the rowboat business. So which'll it be mate?" Les got quiet, and he could see the anger in his eyes, but without breaking his gaze, he drew his cutlass, and pried open a barrel full of bananas. John lowered his pistol.

       "Thank you."

       Just after midday the two of them had stocked the rowboat with tons of bananas and were ready to set off for Sanctuary. Les tossed the last of the bananas into the rowboat and brushed his hands together.

       "Alright mate, I think we're ready to set off. By rowboat it'll likely take about a day to arrive, so, this time tomorrow" said Les.

       "That's fine, it'll give me time to decide what I'm doing once I get there" replied John. "Maybe I'll try my hand at piracy."

       Les pushed the rowboat, and they began rowing out of the bay, and to open sea, on course for Sanctuary Outpost.

       "A pirate? You want to be a pirate? Surely there's better coin in merchant contracts." Said Les. John sat up in the rowboat, and stared daggers at Les.

       "I want you to listen, and listen close. I will never sail for the Merchant Alliance again, and if you were smart, you would do the same. My crew betrayed me, and my father, all in the name of profit. When they were found out to be acquiring their goods by 'questionable' methods, they were hunted down, and I was their scapegoat. It's not about money mate, it's about principle. I take what I want, when I want, and how I want. I won't be commanded, and I will only do, what I want. You know what that is Les? That's a pirate." He leaned back, and crossed his arms. Les thought for a moment, and looked up from the oar in his hand.

       "I'll be the captain." He said. "Every ship needs a captain, I'll be the captain."

       "What?" John laughed "Are you out of your damned mind? What part of 'I won't be commanded' did you miss? Besides, why would I make someone else the captain of my pirate crew?"

       "I'll treat you with respect, you can do as you want. Board ships, steal loot, whatever is your fancy at the time, go for it." John leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. He liked the sound of that, true freedom on the seas, and profiting off the work of others.

       "How do I know you're a good captain?" he asked.

       "Truthfully, I can't prove it to you, at least not without a ship, but my father, and my closest friend had a nickname for me, "Close-Call". Often times I would bring them close to a rock formation, or a reef, to scare them a bit, before quickly maneuvering away, and safe from harm." Replied Les. Just the other day, I sailed my father and I into Smuggler's Bay, and came to a stop, just inches from the shallows. When we left, we proceeded through the arch, at full billow."

       "That was you?" John asked, remembering the event clearly. "You were piloting that green brigantine?" Les nodded, and John held out his hand. "You're hired, Captain Les "Close-Call" Paul." Les grinned, and shook John's hand.

       "And what would your position be? First mate?"

       John laughed, "No, I'm not one for giving orders. I'll be your powder monkey, it's what I'm good at." Les looked puzzled but agreed. "I will warn you though, I'm perfectly capable of handling myself, so our first act of piracy will be a test. If it works out well, I'll keep you on as captain, but if not, you'll be removed from the equation..."

       "Removed? Removed how?" Les asked.

       "Just, removed." Replied John, before leaning back against the rowboat. "I have some connections on Sanctuary. I'll get a lead on some ships, carrying valuable cargo. From there we'll plot our course, and you can show your worth."

       "While you do that, I'll talk to a longtime friend of mine. He's one of the finest gunners I've ever seen, when he's not chugging grog" said Les.

       "A drunken gunner? Mate, I'm not liking the sound of that." John replied. "He better be good."

       As the sun set on the horizon, John and Les traded spots. Les rested his eyes for a bit, and John took the oars, to row the rowboat. By sunrise, he wanted to see that outpost on the horizon. Off to the right, the silhouette of Keel Haul Fort quietly sat, with green and blue lanterns lit. What could be so valuable in that fort, to cause such a fight when ships approach? Cannons line the outer wall, and watchtowers provide long range protection for the fort and its treasure. John had never been to a skeleton fort, he'd only see them in passing. His former captain "Irongrasp" Jim avoided them, quite often, as they held large amounts of explosives. Rumor on the seas, is that within their vaults, you could find cursed gunpowder kegs, which are more explosive, and deadly, than your run-of-the-mill keg. The fort got further and further away as the night went on, and once the sunrise kissed the horizon, John was able to make out the outline of Sanctuary Outpost in the distance. He rowed on, anxious to begin his journey, as a pirate.