The Cursed Fleet: A Sea of Thieves Story

Chapter 3: The Wicked Revenge

       As the sun peeked over the horizon, starting another day at Sanctuary Outpost, Christopher Smith, Les' longtime friend, wakes from a drunken slumber, lifting his head off of a table in The George and Kraken tavern. When it's seen that he's begun to move, Tracy, the tavern owner and bartender, stops sweeping and looks up at him.

       "Look who's finally awake. Rough night fer ye mate? That were the most grog I's ever seen ye put down, and then, ye passed out in the middle of the night" She said.

       "Yeah..." he replied, quietly. "It's been 3 days now since Les and his father left, and I worry they've met a foul end."

       Tracy smiled kindly, "You two've been good friends for a long while now eh? Well, I think ye should talk to Sherry, down on the docks, she may have some good news for ye." She turned back to sweeping the floor, as Christopher sat up. What kind of news would the local shipwright have for him? He doesn't own a ship, nor could he afford one. He stood up, his head pounding, from the evening before, and walked out of the tavern.

       As his eyes met the morning sun, he squinted, and they adjusted to the change in scenery. It was a calm and quiet day, the waves gently kissed the beaches, and the birds flew overhead, singing their songs. The Shores of Plenty was, to most people, the finest, and most beautiful region to call home. Deep, clear blue water, golden beaches, and the unbeatable weather, made it the perfect place to live. He was raised on Golden Sands by the tavern owner, after his parents disappeared during his infancy. One day, when he was about 12, he decided, he would request to stowaway on the next merchant vessel that rolled into port, in hopes to explore the world, that he'd only ever heard or read about, and that ship, belonged to none other than Graham Paul, Les' father. The man reluctantly agreed, as he unloaded the last of his cargo to the local merchant. He wasn't sure at first, but once he found out the boy had no parents, he took him under his wing. That was nine years ago, and Christopher, now 21 has grown to be a hefty grog drinker, and a crack-shot gunner on a cannon. He had always wanted to sail the seas, and see regions beyond The Shores of Plenty.

       He walked down to the docks, and up to the shipwright's booth, where he saw Sherry, wooden mallet in hand as always. He smiled and nodded his head.

       "Mornin' Sherry" He said, "Tracy told me you may have some good news for me?" She looked at him, with a worried look on her face.

       "You've not been sleeping much have you boy?" she asked. "Or at least not good sleep."

       Chris nodded "Ever since Graham and Les disappeared, I've struggled to sleep." he looked at the shipwright, who now had a grim look on her face. "What? I thought you had good news?"

       "I do, but, I need to start with the bad..." she replied. "I'm sorry, but... The Merchant Alliance sent a couple sloops out to search for Graham and Les, and-" she paused, holding back emotions, and Christopher lost all the color in his face. "All they could find was debris... I'm sorry Chris, their ship was sunk."

       "Wh-" he replied, feeling lightheaded, and dizzy, he leaned up against a beam, supporting her booth. "I can't- surely there's a chance..." he asked, but when he looked at the shipwright, she closed her eyes and shook her head. Graham and Les were like family to Christopher, and for him, it would be the only family he had ever known. He had no idea how to react, or what to say, he was just overcome with grief and shock.

       "There is some good news though" Sherry chimed in. "Our scouts spotted a rowboat on the horizon, at the crack of dawn, with two passengers."

       Chris looked up at the shipwright, anxiously, "Are they alive?"

       "One of us is" said a familiar voice from behind him. He turned to see an exhausted, and battle-worn Les. "How you doing buddy?" Chris ran over to his longtime friend, and practically chocked him death in a hug, before hearing mumbling that was muffled by his shoulder.