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[Entry Thread] A Clash of Kings [In Judging] Reply to this Post
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This is the entry thread for A Clash of Kings.
Please ask questions in the main thread and use this thread for entries only.

As a reminder the rules:

  • Only one entry per pirate
  • Include the name of your pirate and ocean at the beginning of your post
  • The story has to be English and consist of 500 to 2500 words according to [url]http://wordcounttool.com[/url]
  • The theme of your story has to be "A Clash of Kings" in the piratey world and may be historical, recent, fictional or mix of all.
  • Remember that probably not all of the judges play on your ocean and so probably won't know the persons you are writing about.
  • Your story has to be original and has to be your work.

Locu on Cerulean and Opal (and some other Oceans)

Check the Rack at Phakey's Tailor Stall on Tinga for nice clothes!
Locu's Weaving Stall on Tinga and Cranberry

Avatar by Cattrin
[Edit 1 times, last edit by Aeternis at Jul 9, 2012 12:07:14 AM]
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Re: [Entry Thread] A Clash of Kings [ends July 8th] Reply to this Post
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In an old house that has existed for several years on Spring Street, lived a woman and a child.
She was young, with blonde curly hair and beautiful green eyes, but poor as well. She had rough hands, her fingertips were chapped by the needle and she always wore dark colored clothes that hid her prettiness.
The boy was a pink, innocent child with a little scar on his forehead: a birthmark. He used to play with the neighborhood children, frequented to steal fruit from the Marker Place and, from time to time, steal kisses from the girls beneath the weeping willows that grow along the Fauvent River.
What about the father? The child never met him and the mother used to talk very little about him. Whenever the boy asked his mother about the whereabouts of his father, his mother's face became dark and answered:
--Your father was a good man; he was a boatswain in the Royal Navy. War broke out and he was called to service. A few months after his departure, I received a letter from the Admiral where he reported me that the ship your father was aboard had been attacked and sunk by a warship belonging to the Empire. Since that day, I did not hear about him anymore.
Despite this terrible incident, both characters had the fortune to lead a good and humble life in the Capital of the Confederate States of Sumn; the mother, as a seamstress, the child, as a gamin.
Years went by and both the mother and the son grew older. Thinking he was an intelligent and serious man, the lad left his home in search of adventure. Few weeks later after his departure, the old mother, lying on a bed, wrapped in old blankets and solitude, passed away.

A young woman, with red hair and blue eyes, was walking in the streets, followed by maids; she wore a graceful white dress and a crown. This lady, that is, the Queen, used to travel the streets of the Capital every six months, not to greet her subjects as the King did, but rather to choose new servants for the Royal Palace.
The Queen was settling the price of a couple of slaves with a man from the East, when a loud jabbering caught her eye. Across the street, in front of a fruit bin, was a soldier struggling with a young man, who held an apple in one of his hands; three men and a kick to the face were necessary to subdue the elusive lad. Few minutes later, this young man woke up to the sound of feminine voices:
--But, my Lady --said a submissive voice--, he is a thief. You saw tha...
--Silence! --said another voice with a superior tone-- He is strong and he could be very helpful for us. Take him with the others.
The lad, who was fairly dazed, was brought on aboard a carriage along with other six men. Moments later the coach was moving and, after four hours, it was in front of the South servant's entrance of the Royal Palace of the Confederate States of Sumn. An elderly man with white hair and hunched back, coughing, received and led them to the servant's rooms. There, he said:
--From this day forward, these will be your home. You have no past, no family, no life; you are just a number for the Royal Family. Do not try to escape or steal or you will be likely shot by the guards or, even worse, tortured.
The old man coughed roughly. Then, added:
--Most of us servants are old and soon our illnesses will take us. The Queen has chosen you because you are young and strong; I will choose the smartest of you all to replace me as Mayor of the Palace. Your training will begin tomorrow.
The men entered their rooms. The lad that had been picked up at the Market Place washed his face, revealing a small scar on his forehead.

It was past midnight when a young man walked quietly in the Royal Palace's back garden, that is, the South servant's entrance. Thanks to a powerful contact within the Palace, most of the servants and guards were ordered to retire and rest; the Palace was almost completely empty, unguarded.
This man was a stranger to the Confederate States of Sumn; he was an enemy. Hidden in his clothes were a dagger, a pistol and a bag of poisoned dust. He was an assassin, or as they call them these days, a spy.
He walked quietly and, just before entering the Palace, he stopped. He could have entered the Palace, reached the Grand Bedroom and accomplish his mission, but he decided to be cautious and returned to the servant's rooms he had just passed and took a uniform.
Disguised, he entered the Palace and turned his stealthy steps to the kings' quarters. Before reaching the Grand Bedroom, he found the Mayor of the Palace's room; slight sounds came from within. Curious, he looked through the keyhole and distinguished, on the bed, two silhouettes wrapped in sheets. At the first look, he could not recognize them because of the poor light, but then he noticed a crown and an elegant red dress scattered on the floor. He smiled. ?So the rumors are true?, he thought.
Without greater attention to that event, he headed to the Grand Bedroom and slowly opened the doors, approached the huge gilded bed and found a man, somewhat old, hoary, and sleeping. With a swift movement the mysterious man cut the resting man's throat, who opened his eyes and tried to stop the bleeding with his old hands. The man, that is, the King, tried to scream but only blood came out of his mouth. Seconds later, he fell dead on the blood-stained bed.
The assassin was cleaning his weapon when the doors opened and gave way to a woman, who was adjusting her corset. When the lady saw the King's corpse on the bed, she did not ask for help; she rather started a conversation:
--I see the Emperor does what he says he will do? but I would never imagine he would send you.
--I'm the Emperor?s must trusted man, my Lady.
--Did you have any trouble with the guards? The servants?
--Not any... at all --replied the assassin, serving two glasses full of Bourbon, offering one to the woman--. A toast, for the Empire!
Both characters drank and remained silent. The woman started the conversation again:
--The Empire was a rising nation. I've heard that?
--Has it changed? --interrupted the assassin, who served another drink to the lady-- I refuse to believe something so grave has happened to make us change our plans.
--Nothing has changed? Noblemen have begun to suspect. If they discover I am the Emperor's niece, it would be over... all of this. There are rumors we canno...
--But those are rumors --he interrupted again--. Rumors like those that talk about your infidelity, right?
--Cousin! Do not be impertinent!
--Worry not --he smiled--. I will not tell anybody and nor will you.
--What do you mean?
--I have poisoned you --said the assassin.
--You fool! --yelled the woman-- What have you done!?
--There are two nations: the Empire, ruled by my father, and the Confederacy. You and I are two monarchs but there is only one nation to be ruled. I am sorry, cousin.
The woman, that is, the Queen, took the assassin's dagger from his belt and tried to stab him, but fell, coughing and spitting blood, before she could hit him. She died few moments later; the assassin had accomplished his mission.
The strange man was about to pick up his weapon when someone hit his back with a vase. Swiftly, the assassin grabbed his weapon an attacked; a lass, almost a little girl, screamed in pain covering his face: it was his aggressor, it was the princess. The scream alarmed several servants and guards; the first one to arrive, the Mayor of the palace, shirtless, holding a crown, found both kings dead and the young princess covered in blood, crying. That had been the beginning of the end for the Confederation.

The Sun was coming down and the white uniform of a group of Confederate soldiers took a reddish color; they were the only ones in the lonely streets. They were running. They reached an old church and waited. Few seconds later, another group of soldiers arrived, led by an officer.
--The Sergeant? --asked a soldier.
--Died --replied the officer, a Corporal--. I'm in charge now. Any news from the troops guarding the Market Place?
--All dead --said the soldier.
--Alright, listen up! 3rd Company is holding the enemy few streets away from here. We're going there to support them. Grab your gear and get movin'.
The group of soldiers, seventeen in total, got up and ran across Armed-Man Street. Suddenly, a loud noise stopped them; the atmosphere was filled with a thick smoke, the sharp smell of gunpowder and the screams from the wounded. From the shadows emerged several Imperial soldiers that fired another volley and advanced, killing the wounded with their bayonets. The Imperial troops continued forward and soon reached the Main Street, where they turned right and headed to the Royal Palace of the Confederate States of Sumn. When the Imperial troops reached the Palace, it was completely empty. It had been two years since the assassination of the Confederacy's kings and the Imperial troops were already in the Capital; brave noblemen tried to defend the nation, but their disorganized troops were no match for the experimented Imperial troops, who were, surprisingly, mobilized as soon as the assassination took place. When the Imperial troops reached the Capital, it was a matter of time before they could reach the Palace. Knowing this, most of the servants and maids helped the Princess, whose face was wrapped in bandages, to escape. The Princess got on aboard a carriage along with her maids, while the men took the horses from the stable, and left in a haste, heading to the docks.

Somewhere in a city which name and location I cannot remember, a young woman was drinking in a tavern, accompanied by several women, all wearing a maid uniform, and a single man, wearing a servant uniform; the rest of the people that was in the tavern, along with the barkeeper, were evicted when they received a bag full of golden coins.
--That scar on your forehead? what is it? --asked the red haired woman-- Was it for a fight?
--It is a birthmark --replied the man.
--It is somewhat pretty. It looks good.
Both smiled, but soon the smile disappeared from her face. She broke into tears.
--I am no longer a princess. The Confederation is gone. Everything is gone -she sobbed, drinking another sip of Rum--. I want revenge? I want to find my father?s murderer and make him a scar just like mine!
She was pointing to the eye patch she had.
--But, my Lady --said one maid--, we do not know who it was.
--I know who he was?
Everyone remained silent. The woman continued:
I was hiding in the closet, waiting for my mother to come back from her evening walk. Then I heard my father cough and I looked through the keyhole. There was a man I could not recognize. I remained silent. I was afraid. Moments later my mother entered the room, but she did not ask for help. She began a conversation with the murderer. I could hear he was from the Empire? I could hear he was her cousin. I could hear he said he was the Emperor?s son. After he killed my moth? her, I attacked him. You all know the rest of the story.
--Princess! --said the oldest maid-- What is this you are telling us? Are you sure?
--I am not the princess. My father has died and the power rests with me. Now I am the Queen -said the woman, while looking at an old bulletin board on the wall--, and I know how to take my revenge.

The Emperor and his consort had an only son; if we read the Empress' chronicles and the biographies of the Noble House, we would notice that a name is repeated often: Jean-Charles Dupoint Lemonier.
When he had grown, the heir to the throne joined the Imperial Navy, was trained at the Royal Naval Academy and prospered. Over time he gained experience and many awards, the Prince had become an effective, patriotic and obedient Navy Officer in charge of a small ship and a handful of men. Several years later, proud of the amazing performance that his son had shown in the Navy, as well as for services rendered to the country, the Emperor gave the Prince the title of Duke of the region of Pan and appointed him the Admiral of the 2nd Imperial Fleet.
During the spring of 1789, the Emperor was organizing a big festivity to celebrate the twenty-first birthday of Prince Charles, the party became the central theme for several months and word spread far and wide of the Empire, and beyond, thanks to the bulletins issued by the newspapers of that time.
Summer came and did the long waited day. The celebration was attended by all members of the Noble House and many more rich and famous characters. It had everything: on one side was the buffet with hundreds of dishes and drinks from around the Mainland and on the other were the elephants, tigers, acrobats, magicians and all kinds of attractions. It was a cacophony of smells, tastes and emotions surrounding the main tent, where the Emperor and the Empress were, waiting for the Prince.
Several hours passed and the Prince did not showed up. Thinking his son did not dare leave his room, the desperate Emperor went to his son quarters; he found the Prince on the bead, dead, with a dagger in the chest and a note in his right hand. The note said:
"The Prince was a fool.
Yesterday, disguised as one of his maids, I approached him, submissive, pretending to be in love.
He, thinking himself as a leading man, drunk, fell easily.
He took me to his room and gave myself to him.
Today in the morning, on his birthday, I have killed him as he killed father years ago.
But I have not accomplished my vengeance.
His daughter will grow up and fight his grandfather, and her daughters will fight his children.
None of us will rest until we see the Empire fall.

The Widow Queen

Last edit around: Jul 8th, 2012 11:57:43 PM PDT
I live under your bed. I feed on your nightmares.
[Edit 2 times, last edit by Guayabo at Jul 8, 2012 11:58:13 PM]
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Bad guys never win. My arm is being twisted behind my back while some foul-smelling goon pushes me forward with his knee against the back of mine and the edge of his sword pressing into my shoulder blade. My leg gets pushed forward and my foot hits the deck, but my knee is still being pushed forward. I pick up my other leg and begin to move it forward. I’m lucky they didn’t take my shirt off, so I have some protection against the blade, unlike that young midshipman who we used to haze but I never became acquainted with. They laughed and cut his shirt off, then wrapped it around his neck to hold him still before stabbing him in the gut. I’m also lucky I never made eye contact with him during the act, or else that would never get off my conscience.

My foot lands on the deck again. I can feel the boards bend a little bit. This isn’t real. There’s no reason to worry ‘cause I’ll wake up in a little bit. I suddenly feel strangely relaxed and the pain in my shoulder begins to numb. My heart beats more slowly. It’s just a dream.

This is real. Pain suddenly returns, and my body tenses. My heart begins to race and time feels much slower.

My foot hits the deck again. Who are these people? What do they want? Why do they need to kill us to get what they want? I just wanna be friends. I wonder if I can make friends with them. After all, we weren’t here to kill pirates. We were so hopeless. We even knew they were pirates before they caught up to us. We turned and went full sails away from them, but they caught up. How were we supposed to get away? Maybe we should have surrendered to them and given them all of our stuff before they attacked.

My foot lands again. I see where he’s taking me too, even though I knew all along. I can’t believe this is about to happen. This is a dream. I’ll wake up soon. I look around for an escape. I’m surrounded by sweaty, crooked-toothed, stinky, hairy bandits. And they’re all laughing at me and cheering. They’re all stupid. Most of them couldn’t even form a sentence. I’m smarter than all of them. They only know how to swing a sword. And I’m about to die. I’m about to be killed by people dumber than I am. This isn’t real.

My foot lands again. The noise of my heart beating suppresses sound. My mind races through thoughts so quickly that I can’t understand them. Time is an infinite barrier between me and my impending doom, but all the time in the world can’t save me.
My foot lands again. I look back at my ship to see men that I had sailed with, but never fought with, tied up, stabbed, decapitated. The captain dangles, hanged by the neck from the crow’s nest, his face expressionless. There is no omen in his death. How can I escape? I look forward again. It’ll be any second.

I’m pushed onto the plank. I never thought I’d have to walk the plank. They’ll ask me for my last words, and maybe I can win them over. My world spins and I’m suddenly in the water. They didn’t ask me for my last words. I look around. There’s an infinite expanse of water surrounding me and a ship I belonged to, but it’s sailing away.

Kharybdous on Emerald
[Jun 13, 2012 1:53:32 PM] Show Printable Version of Post        Send Private Message [Link]  Go to top 

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Re: [Entry Thread] A Clash of Kings [ends July 8th] Reply to this Post
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Username: Ajitumari
Pirate: Ajitu
Ocean: Meridian

Puzzle Pirates-Clash of Kings

Shades of the Shadows

This story uses fictional characters.

Azure- High class detective, working for Stern

Aqua- Azure's best friend, middle class detective for Stern

Dark- King Greybeard's lieutenant

Stern-First and Third king of the Meridian Ocean

Greybeard- Opposing King of (insert Ocean Name Here)

Shuffling through the streets, Azure looked from side to side for suspicious characters. He would never let himself off guard. All things seemed to be making noise around him. He was tired at the moment, trying to capture a notorious gang with no avail .

He felt lonely and wanted to have some company. As he approached the Inn for a cup of rum, he heard a cry from behind him.

Instinctively, he jumped around and forced himself into a defensive stance, only to find his best friend and rival smirking at him.

"Got a scare, right?" chimed in Aqua. He never dropped his cheerful attitude. "Still searching for that gang, The Scurvy Limes?"

"Be serious here, mate, we're finding them for the king." said Azure, frowning.

"Be serious here, mate, we're finding them for the king." mimicked Aqua.

"They don't know that we're after them, but they can find anything. They're pirates, for heaven's sake! They can whisk from Hadrian to Lima island without a whisk potion! They can even kill us if they want!"

"Well, I see your point. They're effective murderers, marking us down while we're normal citizens. Well, meet me at the dock, and bring rope coils for safety." Said Aqua, trying to neutralize the outburst.

Azure kept shuffling, ignoring the Inn. He went on and on and almost fell into the water.

He heard a crack.

Flinging himself, he jumped to the sound. On the ground lay a broken rum bottle with a message saying-

To Aqua
They've hijacked the Devil Chicken. El Pollo Diablo, amigos. Give this to the king.
From Dark

He seemed surprised. He had never known Aqua to have an acquaintance he didn't know.

As he reached the dock, he saw Aqua. After asking about the message Aqua replied," I don't know about this."


"This is from a guy called Dark."

"And you have no clue who he is?"

"I think he's the opposing king Greybeard's cammander-in-chief."

"Oh, okay, but? ... GET AWAY!" shouted Azure, a bottle narrowly missing their heads.
Aqua, however, grabbed it and threw it back. He threw it so quick the offender thought it was a missile.

He was hiding on the terrace. His head was clearly seen.

"I said, BRING ROPE COILS! Azure, throw them my whisk potion, scream 'Labyrinth Moors'!"

Azure threw it, and to his amazement the man transported and disappeared.

" T'was a close shave, right?" said Aqua, panting.
However, Azure was suspicious.

"How do you know that was going to happen?"

" I followed you, and ran across when I heard the crack. I notified the ocean masters about him. We've got ocean masters stationed Labyrinth Moors, and that's why I asked you to throw my whisk potion."

Azure was stunned.

The next day, Azure checked the news early.

Two things caught his eye.

Notice board
A man was caught yesterday, by the likes of Aqua and Azure. On further development on research, it was concluded that this man was part of the Scurvy Limes, a criminal crew trying to kill the current king of the Meridian, His Highness Archibald Stern 1.

Azure was surprised, not at his name, but the fact that they were trying to wage war surprised him.

As he looked further down, he almost fainted.

The Scurvy Limes yesterday attacked our own Sakejima Island and threatened to conquer other islands if His Highness did not send out ships to fight. They have agreed to The King Palace and have not agreed to anything else. The blockade will take place today.

" I have to go NOW!" Azure ran to the dock and boarded the ferry to the King's Palace.

In the silent ship jumping through the sea, Azure just stood and watched the birds.

In a second, he heard a loud noise. The ship was struck!

The ship had finally defeated the offender, a speedy sloop. Though it was just a sloop, the Dhow seemed to have taken a lot of damage.

The skies turned black.

A large ship sailed towards it. It was as big as the biggest grand frigate made.

It was the El Pollo Diablo.

It immediately engaged, shooting cannonballs from each side.

After a lot of blasting, it was grappled.

"This is it." thought Azure. The final showdown.
The skeletons bombarded the ships, and it was a 48 on 159 showdown.

Azure clashed with the leader, calling himself the Amigo Diablo. His ultimate rating in sword fight allowed him to defeat 69 skellies before getting knocked out.

His ship was victorious. Azure waited for a moment, getting his PoE and sneaked into the El Pollo Diablo.

Hiding from the skellies, he hid himself in a barrel of limes. It then struck him. This ship was being commanded by the Scurvy Limes! He remembered the message.

After a while, he felt the ship get hit. He peeped.
Aqua was standing there, talking with a guy with a badge saying 'Dark'.
Azure slashed out of the box, confronting the pair. Dark moved back, but Aqua calmly greeted him.

"Aqua, how come you're part of The Scurvy Limes?" asked Azure angrily.

"Double agent. Listen, when you hear the third cannonball, whisk to the king's palace. The blockade is on. Inform our king, Archibald Stern, and tell him to come to the fight. Oh, by the way, while getting out of here, kill the one named Lime." replied Aqua.

At the third cannonball, he whisked to the palace.

He ran to the king, who was looking up on a map.

"Your Majesty, you must come to the blockade!" panted Azure. "By Azure's request!"

The king knew them well, and therefore consented.


Sailing the ships, Stern came to the navigation point.

Greybeard cried," Avast me Hearties! Our friend is here!"

The El Pollo Diablo sailed. The Grand Frigate was a fair sailor, gliding across the sea waters.

Azure, being aware of the facts, threw the grapple.

As it landed, the Scurvy Limes invaded the Grand Frigate.

Azure went up and spotted Lime. He had a captain badge. He slashed the coat, making a large hole in the middle. Azure spotted a grim chance.
He lashed at the peg leg, leaving him struggling on the ground.

Azure was knocked from behind, and fainted on the spot.

When he came to, he saw Greybeard and Stern fighting with fists, swords stubbed and broken.

He ran and gave Greybeard a flying roundhouse kick. He was thrown off, when Azure spotted an opportunity. He took a sword and pointed it at Greybeard.

He gave Stern the ultimate sacrifice.

He gave a kick to Stern, resulting in the sword slicing through his heart, and slicing a small portion of Stern's hand as well. Stern had fainted.

Then Greybeard emerged from behind a cannon. He had hidden there the whole time. The other person was Lime!

Greybeard rushed at Azure. Their swords clashed, and hurt Azure.
The swords had broken before long.

Greybeard jumped and pushed Azure to the ground, hammering him on both shoulders and punching him in the chest.

Stumbling, Azure slipped back, feeling sick. His sweat glistened with the blood.

Before Greybeard delivered the final blow, he had heard a shout.

Aqua ran towards Greybeard full speed, and did a spinning back kick followed by a crescent kick.

Greybeard fell, and Dark jumped and punched him on the heart. He was soon tied up and sent to the Ocean Masters.

Stern and Azure were sent to the hospital. They both recovered, and all: Dark, Azure, Aqua, Stern had their friendship renewed, and Azure was the happiest of all, for he had a new friend as well as a pay rise.

But the story does not end just yet.

Lime had survived.

The day's news included all: Azure, Aqua and Dark. But it also said that three people: one unknown man, Emerald, and Lime himself, had survived. There was nothing to doubt. They started a new crew, 'The ShadowBenders'.

The next day, a surprise came for all.

Stern was demoted.

An Ocean Master, Lilotus, said that the king was 'betraying his work' and submitting to 'non-kingly duties'. Of course, he was one of the main Ocean Master, so he always had the final say.

But the biggest shock was that-

Greybeard killed the guards and escaped from jail.

He had kidnapped the Ocean Master, Lilotus.

This struck fear among everybody, because Lilotus had a legendary rating in both Rumble and SwordFight.

Azure was assigned the case once again, along with Aqua and Stern.

Dark had gone on another mission, with lower prestige, but it was because there were no other jobs.

Azure told Aqua and Stern to split up, on three different islands.

Azure was soon fighting the urge to find and kill Greybeard. He knew that it wasn't his job.

That very moment, he remembered something.

The Main Ocean Master is always the next king, but if he was kidnapped??

Azure threw a whisk potion into the air.

"King's Palace!"


As he arrived, he ran to the king's room.

The king was a man named Malachite.

Azure finding nothing to say, stumbled. Unless you're a friend of the king, trespassers had to be prosecuted. With prison.


In jail, Azure was sent to the worst cell. 'The Mind Breaker'.

It was the same cell Greybeard was sent to.
Azure thought he would be desolate forever.

He looked at the floor.
There were traces of blood on the floor. He looked along it, when he saw that the dried blood had risen in the middle.

He took out a thick tissue and moved it there. He had found a message.
He decided to read it.

To Lime
I know you're going to be here next. You would have got here by killing that man ,Dark. Follow my plan, kill them by disguising yourself as Azure and join Aqua. Make a blockade against Malachite. While you're doing that, kill Stern and Aqua while they're fighting. Malachite will get killed, and you as Azure pretend to find Lilotus. Go to his room, request to be Main Ocean Master then kill him. Then we can control the Ocean Masters, and finish our plan.
From Greybeard

Azure thought it was sheer luck he had found it.

He knew he had to become a criminal to escape.

He saw the guards, talking in low whispers. He knew it had to be done.

He wrapped his leg around the bars, and broke them with his hands.

They were bleeding, but that didn't matter. He jumped out, hitting the guards' heads together, making them unconscious.

He ran out, and thought. What place hadn't he checked?

"Ugh. What an idiot I am. I didn't even check the crime scene. Lima Island!" he whispered to himself.

As he went to Lima, he went to the black market and disguised himself as Dark.

Meanwhile, Aqua, Stern and Dark were having a reunion at the Sakejima Inn, oblivious of the proceedings.

First, he went back to the prison, and inspected the crime scene.
"Two prisoners have escaped from this place recently." said the guard. "Azure and Greybeard."

"How was the guard killed?" asked Azure.
"He died from gunshots." Said the guard.

All was well. Azure had a clear idea.

As Azure checked the news, he fell silent. A man was killed, presumably by Lime, and the King's Palace was to be blockaded again. Lime was never in that cell, so Greybeard told him in private.

The blockade was to be held at noon.

Greybeard's plan failed.

Azure used the whisk potion. There were two swigs left.

He teleported to the King's Palace.

He sneaked on to the ship. The El Pollo Diablo was still in service.
Azure hid in the same place as before and took off his disguise.

He waited till he heard the third cannon blast, and sneaked out. He went out, and saw around 50 people fighting. Slithering(not literally)around, he cut the necks of people who hurt his friends.

This way, only 4 people remained. Stern came to him and said," Good to see ya. Emerald, Lime , Greybeard and a guy called Viridian are left. Earlier, Lime looked like you and but then took off his jacket and stuff."
"Okay, now go back and kill them!" Azure told him.

Stern ran back. He saw Emerald and Viridian get tied up, Lime unconscious. Greybeard was hiding.
" Aqua, look out!" Azure shouted as he saw Lime getting up.

Before Aqua did anything, dropping from the sky, from a helicopter, was Dark. He swooped down, with a parachute, and sliced Lime's head off.

"Got assigned the job at the last minute!" Dark shouted.

Everybody shouted, and Greybeard, being so irate, broke the floor while jumping. Everyone rushed towards him, partly afraid of his longsword.

Greybeard kept everyone at a fair distance. Dark, as daring as ever, lashed towards Greybeard, cutting his hand.

"That's it!" roared Greybeard. "If you dare try to kill me, I shall do THIS to you!" He whipped out a gun, and shot both Viridian and Emerald. Everyone took a step back, because they at once understood he was a cold blooded murderer.

However, Dark came in front and cut through his stomach. Greybeard let out a cry, followed by tears of the pain.

He shot Dark. Then, he hook punched both Aqua and Stern and sent a bullet through them.

Azure couldn't help the tears, for they had both been his friends.

"You're next!" screamed Greybeard, sending a bullet towards him. Azure deflected it with his sword , which broke at the second bullet.

The next one hit Azure on the stomach. Azure, overcome with pain, suffered, but did not die. The last bullet in the gun headed his way and Azure did not think. He threw the whisk potion and screamed, "Greybeard!"

The bullet teleported to his heart.

Blood splashed through Greybeard's shirt, striking him unconscious. Azure had only one more thing to do. He seized the shivering Malachite, and threw him off board. He made Lilotus walk the plank. He then sailed the ship ashore, and rushed everyone to the hospital.

Viridian and Emerald died.

Everyone else survived.


The next thing Azure could remember was him getting the Piratey Bravery Award.

After that, he was made the Chief Minister of the Meridian Ocean, along with Aqua and Dark.

Stern was the King once more, and he was praised a lot.

Greybeard, fortunately, went to jail once again, and he was being monitored constantly.

Main Ocean Master is fictional.
This is my first story. I hope you enjoy.

Indian, SUCKAAS!
[Edit 11 times, last edit by Ajitumari at Jun 22, 2012 10:54:46 AM]
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Clash of Kings, My Story Reply to this Post
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pirate name=Pewdipie Ocean= Emerald

Avast me hearties,

The sea's are rough with treacherous sea monsters lurking about and pirates sailing for booty. The new king wishes for a happy kingdom but there is a problem ... The Vargas the great comes and attacks the island and there is nothing the king can do. but one day that came to an end, a fearsome crew offered the king that they would end the madness that Vargas was causing. so the pirates went out looking for the Vessel which Vargas was on and it ended with a huge fight. Vargas's life was ended with a slash of a sword and the rest of Vargas's crew fled and swore to never attack the island again. when the pirates got home they told the king all the good news. They then came royalty and good friends with the king.

The End

Story by Pewdipie

(P.S) I wish everyone good luck in this event
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Re: [Entry Thread] A Clash of Kings [ends July 8th] Reply to this Post
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Pirate--> Mikekhawk
Ocean--> Emerald

Captain Greenfire: The Burnt Man of the Sea
By Mikekhawk

Captain Greenfire’s burnt hand itched and tingled. This was never a good sign. Greenfire scratched it absentmindedly, eyes fixated on the island looming on the horizon. It was too dark to make out much detail of Admiral Island, but the captain knew that the enemy fleet was waiting in its bay. Greenfire’s hand continued to itch. He told himself he shouldn’t worry; King Torius had assured all of his captains that their fleet was much larger than Admiral Island’s current occupiers. It was true, The Black Flag did have twice as many ships in its fleet, but Greenfire knew better than to underestimate an enemy with beach defenses.

The Viking King, Arlyn, and his fleet, flying the flag of Thor’s Hammer, captured the island from The Black Flag less than three months earlier, leaving plenty of time to construct proper defenses to repel the inevitable return attack. Captain Greenfire didn’t need sunlight to know the Vikings had constructed cannons on the shore and that they could pose a huge problem for King Torius’s fleet. It was easy to sink a boat, but not so easy to sink a beach-cannon.

That was where Greenfire came in. The captain was newly drafted to The Black Flag. Just under a year ago, Greenfire washed up on the shore of Admiral. He was found unconscious by two passing prostitutes, the left half of his body badly burned and fingers missing on his burnt hand. The whores attempted to awaken the injured man, but this proved to be impossible. The women, being the compassionate prostitutes that they were, loaded the man into a cart and brought him back to the only inn on the island, Sho Girls.

The inn was a fine enough establishment, complete with card tables, brawling rings for fisticuffs, and plenty of drunken swashbucklers. The women put Greenfire up in one of the inn’s many vacant rooms and treated his wounds for several days until he finally awoke five days after washing ashore. News of the “Burnt Man from the Sea” had passed quickly around the small island, and when Greenfire awoke he was greeted by King Torius himself. Torius prided himself on being acquainted with anyone worth knowing in the archipelago.

“Ahoy there. That was quite the nap ye were taking there, lad. How does ye feel?” the king asked.

“Like hell. Where am I?” Greenfire responded.

“Why ye be on the great Island of Admiral, m’boy!” Torius grinned, a gold tooth gleaming from his smile. “I’m Torius, Governor of Admiral and King of The Black Flag.” He was a tall, barrel-chested man with a dark, curly beard. He wore the finest conquistador’s armor, black cloth and gilded dark-steal with a gold-trimmed black tricorne.

“The Black Flag?”

“Aye! And who be ye, Burnt Man? Yer real name o’course.”

He paused for a moment. “It’s… Greenfire, Your Grace.”

“Greenfire, eh?” the King grumbled. “An odd name, but a fine enough one I s’pose. Do ye feel well enough to walk, Greenfire? I’d like to be the first to show ye around me island.”

Though he was in great pain, Greenfire consented to the King’s tour. The two spent the next few hours walking about the island. Passersby stared at the couple. News had traveled fast and it had seemed that everyone knew who the Burnt Man was.

“Pay the common folk no mind.” Torius said. “It ain’t everyday a man washes ashore half burnt to a crisp. They just be curious. Tell me, Greenfire, what is that ye do to earn yer wage?”

“I’m a sailor, Your Grace. Captain of the Bla-“

“Aye! A sailor, eh. You’ll fit in just fine around here, m’boy. And ye say yer a cap’n, eh? Where be yer boat? And yer crew?”

“My boat was destroyed… In a battle. My crew perished with the ship,” Greenfire replied.

“Then ye ain’t no cap’n,” King Torius growled. “I dunno where ye come from, lad, but around these waters a man can only call himself a cap’n when he’s got a sturdy boat and a crew o’ swashbucklers to rig the sails and pump the bilge.”

“Your Grace, I’m a skilled sailor. If you would allow it, I would serve you loyally as captain of any vessel you’d allow me,” Greenfire began.

“I’m sorry mate, but I can’t take ya,” Torius interjected. “It wouldn’t be fair to all of me other men who have been swabbing decks for The Black Flag fer years. Around here, a man has to earn his way. I can’t be going and given ye any freebies now can I? If ye want to try to become a cap’n once more, perhaps ye should join up with me navy. Make a name for yerself, climb the ranks, y’know.”

And Greenfire did just that. He worked day and night for months, working vigorously with hopes to once again become the captain of his own vessel. After months of swabbing decks, Greenfire began to think he would never advance to the rank of captain, but then the Vikings came. It was a stormy night, the skies heavily clouded and pouring rains with a fury only the gods could unleash. And in this fury, the Vikings came ashore. They didn’t fire cannons at first, choosing instead to sneak ashore and murder the towns folk under the cover of wind and rain. Shortly after the invaders arrived, the storm calmed and the rain stopped. The Vikings set fire to Sho Girls, a signal to the Viking fleet waiting off the coast. The fleet opened fire upon Admiral Island, with little care as to whether their cannonballs struck friend or foe. The chaos was incredible.

Greenfire awoke to the rumble of cannonfire. He quickly slipped into his clothes and ran out of his small shack as a cannonball ripped through the wall and turned his small featherbed into splinters. Greenfire sprinted as fast as his aging legs could carry him. When he reached the docks, Greenfire spotted King Torius with his personal guard, making his way to his personal war frigate, the Gilded Shadow, a magnificent black vessel trimmed in gold with gilded cannons and pure gold figurehead. Something immediately seemed amiss to Greenfire. Vikings had boarded and sabotaged much of the fleet in the bay but hadn’t touched the Shadow. Why would the Vikings ransack small sloops and leave the grandest vessel in the entire fleet untouched? Greenfire sensed a trap.

“Your Grace! King Torius!” Greenfire called through the echoes of cannonfire.

“Eh? Greenfire! Glad to see yer still alive, matey! These bloody Vikings have really done it now! Ye best get to yer boat and commanding officer. We need to get as many ships outta the harbor and retreat to the Isle of Kent. Admiral’s is lost I’m afraid. I’ll be leading the retreat aboard me Gilded Shadow.”

“I don’t think that is a good idea, Your Grace. Don’t you find it odd that of all the boats anchored in the port, the finest of all is one of the few untouched?” asked Greenfire.

“Aye, now that ye mention it, it does seem a bit off doesn’t it? What do ye think is goin’ on here, Greenfire.”

“Well, if I had to guess, I’d say the Vikings were expecting you to flee aboard your personal frigate, so they left it untouched so they could massacre it, and you, in the bay as it tried to retreat, guaranteeing that you would die in the invasion. I would recommend that you attempt to sail out in small sloop so the Vikings cannot recognize you as you flee, Your Grace.”

“A scupperin’ solid observation, matey, and an even better plan. But won’t these damn Vikings realize I’m on another boat if me own frigate stays put?”

A cannonshot burst into a apothecary up the street. “That is true, my king. I’ll have to take the Shadow out myself as a diversion. I’ll need fifteen of your bravest sailors with me,” Greenfire yelled over the chaos.

“Aye, but me Shadow needs at least seventy pirates to man all the bilges, sails, and cannons, Greenfire!” Torius growled back.

“I don’t need all of that, Your Grace. Just sailors… Preferably strong swimmers, sir.”

King Torius paused briefly. “Aaah whale’s piss! Rolland! Get Greenfire fifteen iron-witted sailors. Now!”

“As you command, my king.” Replied one of the king’s guard.

“Prep me ship for her last voyage, Greenfire. Ye will have yer sailors before long. Do me one favor, though. Send the ol’ girl out with a bang. The hold has quite a stockpile o’ gunpowder… I want ye to make sure that if the these Viking bastards want to take Shadow’s gilded cannons they’ll have to pick ‘em up from the bottom of the sea.”

“Aye aye, Your Grace,” Greenfire replied, and with that he turned and made for the Gilded Shadow. Rolland had worked quickly and his sailors arrived shortly after Greenfire did. They prepared the ship, raised the anchor, and slowly made out into the bay. The Viking fleet immediately took notice of the massive frigate coasting out into the dark waters and began to come about in the water. When the Gilded Shadow was halfway out of the bay, Greenfire spotted the king’s sloop slipping safely into the night. Seconds later, the thunder of a hundred cannons erupted in the bay. The Vikings fired a massive volley directly at the Gilded Shadow.

“All hands! Abandon ship!” screamed Greenfire. His crew of fifteen mounted the rails and jumped into the dark water as cannonballs ripped through the frigate and the surrounding waters. Still on board, Greenfire grabbed a torch and lit a trail of lantern oil on the deck. The oil caught fire and soon a flame was snaking across the deck and then down into the hold. Greenfire ran and jumped from the frigate as the gunpowder ignited, creating an explosion so large that night turned to day for just a second. The force from the explosion threw Greenfire far out in to the ocean. He landed hard against the water, almost losing consciousness. He swam to the surface, his head throbbing and ears ringing. Greenfire turned back to see the bow of the Gilded Shadow, or what was left of it, slipping down into the dark waters, a fading memory of its former glory.


Greenfire escaped Admiral Island by swimming back to shore and hiding in a small cave on the beach. Months earlier, Greenfire had hidden a small rowboat with a two weeks supply of rum and salted beef in the cave. He hid waiting for a chance to venture out into the waters to make his escaped. The chance came on the third night after the invasion. The moon and stars were covered by thick clouds and cold fog had rolled over the island. Greenfire loaded up his provisions and slipped into the night, guiding his rowboat through the fog toward the Isle of Kent. Greenfire rowed for four days before he was picked up by a longship sailing under The Black Flag on its way to Kent. The King had called for his armada to assemble at Kent to defend the island stronghold and to prepare a counterattack.

Upon his arrival, Greenfire was given a hero’s welcome. At a small ceremony, King Torius awarded Greenfire with his own longship and crew. The ship was a plain vessel with black sails, twelve cannons, and modified jibs for speed and maneuverability. At last, he was finally a captain again. Greenfire wished to take his new ship and sail back to his home, but King Torius forbid this, requesting that he first serve in the counterattack before being released of service.

And so he found himself on the deck of his longship, Little Betha, sailing towards Admiral Island on another suicide mission, tasked with single-handedly destroying beach cannons. He uttered a short prayer hoping that he would survive. The gods had been good enough to see him through one Clash of Kings, he hoped they would do it once more.

Captain Davos Greenfire rubbed his bag of finger bones and scratched his burned hand once more, giving one final thought of returning home. Of returning to the land where he was known as Davos Seaworth, the Onion Knight. Of returning to Westeros.
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The Flight Of A Sparrow
An original pirate story by Xamtheking
All characters in this story are fictional, and they have come from the deep, dark pit that is my mind.
Username: Xamtheking
Pirate: Xamtheking
Ocean: Meridian

(Story Start)
Sparrow felt himself falling from........somewhere. He didn't know where he was, or how he had gotten there.He just knew that he deserved to fall. He found himself remembering his dark past......

(Point of view:Sparrow)
Back in the old days, I was a young lad, ready to go on all the pillages I could. I didn't care about the money, I just wanted to feel the rush of excitement that my brother told me would come after a successful pillage. Little did I know what was to happen to me........

15 years ago
I got onto the Innocent Trout, surrounded by legendary pirates such as Right-foot Robin, Jose Navvaron, and Captain Zach Winter. I had been chosen at random by the Pirate King, Zeus, to serve as a cabin boy on the journey of legends. It was my first time on a ship, and I was nervous. I had no idea why I was picked, but I thought it had something to with my stellar intellect. I seemed to have a head for stars and constellations, and, on the journey, I was even going to navigate the ship a few times! As the ship got ready to sail, I looked back at the shore, and waved goodbye to my friends and family.

(Point of View: Narrator)
Sparrow felt himself falling even farther, and he realized that he had jumped from a cliff and was now heading very fast toward the rocks below. As he tried to remember why he jumped, the past engulfed him again........

7 years ago
(Point of view: Sparrow)
I hate this journey. Ever since Zach Winter turned out to be nothing more than a ruthless money-grubber, he has kept us all prisoner and plans to sell us as slaves. Well, almost all of us. Zach decided to keep me free in order to help sail the ship. I had a hard time of it, doing a crew's duties on my own. In the past eight years, I've matured into a strong pirate, and I'm slowly devising a way to help my fellow crewmates escape from prison.

(Point of view: Narrator)
Sparrow remembered why he had jumped. It was because he had betrayed his old crewmates, and could not live with the guilt.
As he neared the spiky rocks, he had one more fleeting memory before he died, smashing violently onto the rocks. Here is his last thought.

1 year ago
(Point of view: Sparrow)
(Sobbing) I don't know why I did it, but I did it anyway.
I killed those good pirates to save my own skin......
Zach made me do it.
He would have killed them after he had killed me....
Was it the right choice?
Or are my wings clipped, like a sparrow who has gotten himself involved in too much?
What would you do to be able to keep flying in the sky of life?
I killed 17 men to live.
I am not ashamed.
I am not afraid.
I....am....a....broken sparrow, left in the dust, trying hopelessly to fly far, far away from my troubles, no matter the consequences.
(Story End)
532 words according to wordcounttool.com
[Edit 2 times, last edit by Xamtheking at Jun 24, 2012 3:07:41 PM]
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Pirate: Alchemy
Ocean: Emerald
Word Count: 2473, title included

DISCLAIMER: The following story is a fictional account of the rivalry between two flags that intend to blockade an island controlled by another monarch, and is set in a "futuristic" Emerald Ocean where almost all islands were colonized. All characters and events are strictly products of the author's imagination.


The birds flew out of their cages just as the sun broke free from the eastern horizon. Soon, before that great ball of fire could start its journey in the western skies, the birds would reach their destinations, safely delivering the messages written on small scrolls of parchment tied to their legs.

Queen Nazrah's death saw to the disbanding of her crew, the weakening of the flag that was her pride and legacy. King Dendelius would never manage to fill her shoes, and across the seas, two other monarchs would challenge his authority in the large fortified island of Tichka Plateau. The island-fort's strategic location in the north-east end of Ibis Archipelago provided
the fastest route to Hubble's Eye, beyond which lay another vast network of islands that would be ready for either plunder or trade, depending on which monarchs sat upon their thrones.

Though Tichka Plateau's ultimate destiny remained uncertain, it did not take a genius to figure out what was in store for it in the near future. Only a blockade would decide its fate, as well as the fates of the monarchs whose eyes were set upon its shores.

The flutter of birds' wings said it all: Emerald Ocean would never be the same again.


Captain of To No Man Bow
Princess of The Iron Maiden
Governor of Terjit Island

The quartermaster's voice filled the chamber with the kind of buzz that would drive even queen bees mad. The monotonous tone he used to deliver the news was not an improvement.

"Get straight to the point, Bambbu!" Princess Astrabelle commanded when she grew tired of worrying her nails. Not that a pirate captain could afford to look maidenly, but she took pride in the fact that she had time to paint her nails as red as the ruby gems in the tiara she wore for special occassions. Terjit might be a small island, but it was The Sincosite Outpost, and its huge deposit of the said mineral made life easy for Astrabelle, whose main duty was to fill the flag's coffers with pieces o' eight earned through trading sincosite.

Her life was bliss until three months ago, when news of Nazrah's failing health reached the ear of Queen Treyzi. It was time for their flag to control a large island, she said, and Tichka was just the thing. Apparently, the four island outposts they controlled--Terjit, Ancoraggio, Fluke and Kakraphoon--were not nearly enough. And because Terjit was closest to the island-fort, Astrabelle was ordered to lead the fleet to the east.

"We are running low on supplies, my lady. Rum, meat, cheese..." Bambbu's response drew her attention back to the matter at hand. "The crews start to grumble."

And they were not even fighting Dendelius yet. Great. Astrabelle knew that this voyage was madness. But Treyzi had been adamant. There was no room for dissent.

"Gather the cabin boys and let them hunt for rats," Astrabelle said, now absentmindedly combing her fingers through the curly red hair that earned her the name 'Red Witch of Terjit.' "Order Cook to mince the meat and use it for the soup. No cheese for the next two meals, and will somebody please dilute the rum?"

It was a bad idea to cut the rations now, but they would have to make do with what they had. Once Tichka was conquered, they could eat and drink as much as they liked, but for now, they were presented with a choice between a strict diet or a watery death, and Astrabelle knew that most would opt for the former.

Rapid knocks on the captain's quarters immediately put Astrabelle on alert. Bambbu answered the door, letting in a scrawny lad dressed in dirty rags.

"Milady cap'n," the lad mumbled, bowing his head. "The Aten fleet was sighted south of ours. More than three dozen ships, said Lady Alania, all galleys by the looks of it."

"Oar-powered?" she asked.

The lad nodded. "Aye, cap'n. The wind blows south."

There was no time to waste. Putting her other concerns aside, Astrabelle went out of her quarters, directly heading to the navigation station where Alania was temporarily taking charge. Already, the boatswain was guiding junior officers who would oversee the maintenance and repair of the ship, and gunners were briefing the men who would man the artilleries in the event of war. The master gunners were also in conference, discussing the battle plans that Astrabelle laid out before they set sail from Terjit.

Upon seeing her, Alania nodded her blonde head, keeping Astrabelle in the loop by pointing out on the map the exact location of the Aten fleet.

"Judging by the direction their ships take, we will engage them in battle right in front of the Tichkan dock," Alania said. "If we keep our current speed, we'll fight them tomorrow, shortly before noon, once they're within our firing range."

"And what says the master sailor?" Astrabelle asked, turning her attention to the peg-legged pirate shouting at the men scrubbing the floors. "Is the wind for us?"

"Definitely," replied Alania. "We hold the weather gauge, though it might rain later tonight."

"Excellent," Astrabelle said, smiling at her first mate. "See to it that the other ships are alerted. Our plan starts tonight. Gather all officers and master gunners. We need to refresh our memories about what our respective duties will be when the battle starts."

Wasting no moment, Alania approached the officer in charge of showing other ships the signal flags. Astrabelle let her eyes roam the busy scene on the main deck, pausing now and then to nod at the officers who took charge of the men.

She had drilled all of them for this, as she had all the officers in all the ships in their fleet. Three months of waiting for the news of Nazrah's death had been enough. And though they might lack a healthy, steady supply of food, they had more than enough ammunition to destroy those who stood in their way to victory.


Senior Officer of Claws of Death
Prince of Right Wing Conspiracy
First Mate of Governor Rouken of Aten Island

Angry shouts and vehement curses shook him from sleep, and though Oliverian was yet to find out what the commotion was about, the knot that formed in his gut warned him of the worst.

He opened the door of his quarters abruptly, almost bumping into the quartermaster, Lord Neevan, who was just about to knock.

"What goes?" Oliverian asked, convinced by the pallor of Neevan's face that he would not like the news.

"The Terjitian fleet," Neevan blurted out. "It is much too close."

Cursing under his breath, Oliverian walked back into his room to hastily put on his clothes. He then reached for his sword and tucked it into the scabbard around his waist, all the while listening to Neevan's report.

So, the Red Witch had played her tricks again, and it seemed that Oliverian fell for them, just like before, when The Iron Maiden and Right Wing Conspiracy were vying for control of Terjit Island. That woman was a sorceress in disguise, he was sure of it. How else could she play him for a fool, not only once, but twice?

One look at the situation they were in made Oliverian realize that they were indeed in a pinch, and a very tight pinch at that. He slammed his fist on the railing out of frustration.

Astrabelle had dispatched a horrendous fleet of cutters and sloops in the middle of the night, and half of them were already way too close to the first line of galleys in Oliverian's forces. Even the war brigs had moved, and he could not fathom how they did it amidst complete darkness and rain.

For it had been raining last night, and with the moon covered by dark clouds, there could have been no way of seeing the direction that they were heading to without the aid of lamplights. Yet, Astrabelle's fleet did not use any lamps, and Oliverian thought--wrongly, he realized now--that the woman would order her ships to stay still.

A witch she was, most definitely. Oliverian was convinced more than ever. There could be no other explanation. She even courted Luck so that the winds would blow against Oliverian, preventing him from using sails and prompting the use of oar-powered galleys. Aten was the Island of Wood, and most of his men were lumberjacks who were used to hard physical labour, but manning the oars for days and days would definitely take its toll. Besides, he did not trust their skills at firing cannons. No one could expect these men to know exactly what to do with gunpowder and iron when they spent most of their lives felling trees and making lumber. Even now, he could sense their hesitation when they heard Neevan shouting, "Man the cannons--now!"

A harsh laugh escaped Oliverian's lips. King Rouken's greed knew no bounds, yet he always sent Oliverian to fight his battles. All the prince wanted was a mansion of his own and an endless flow of rum to fill his days. But now, it seemed that Oliverian would finally head to Davy Jones' locker near the cold, unforgiving shore of Tichka Plateau.

There was no way to win this battle. Astrabelle's ship formation would effectively decimate his forces before they reached the Tichkan dock. The sloops and cutters were sent as baits for the galleys to shoot, so that by the time the bigger ships came close, either the gunners were extremely bone-weary or the ammunitions dangerously low. To ignore the smaller ships would be devastating, for their crews would board the galleys and bring the melee to another, more personal level.

This intent to blockade Tichka Plateau was a suicide mission. Oliverian should have known. Treyzi's princesses were all brats spoiled by Luck and Fate, by Winds and Tides and every factor that affected a pirate at sea. The Iron Maiden had yet to know defeat, and the prince knew that he would not be there when Treyzi's flag finally falls down. But this was no time to quail and allow his men to lose all hope.

"Your orders, Captain?" Neevan asked for formality's sake. The quartermaster knew that Astrabelle had cornered them.

"Gun down the baits," Oliverian replied in a shout so that the men on deck would hear him loud and clear. "Take down as many of Astrabelle's men as you can! We won't go down without a fight!"

The cheers that greeted his words were deafening, prompting Oliverian's lips to curl up. Not bad for half-awake fellers and loggers. Not bad at all.


Captain of The Northern Tridents
King of Stripes and Strikes
Governor of Tichka Plateau

The air was heavy with the smell of burnt canvas, wood and human flesh--olfactory reminders of the sea battle being waged a few leagues west of the Tichkan dock. Atop the battlements of Fort Victorious, King Dendelius raised the spyglass to his eye, unwilling to miss any moment of this fight.

There could be no doubt as to its result. Terjit would triumph under the leadership of Princess Astrabelle, who had been Queen Treyzi's strategist when The Iron Maiden was only a one-crew flag without any island to control. It was through Astrabelle's skills that Treyzi gained what power she had, and it was under Astrabelle's siege that the seemingly impregnable fort of Tichka Plateau would fall.

A slight shiver ran down Dendelius' spine. Astrabelle reminded him too much of his predecessor, Queen Nazrah, under whose leadership the Plateau thrived. The only difference was that Nazrah was ambitious, and Astrabelle was not. Dendelius doubted that, without Treyzi's orders, the Red Witch would even bother to leave Terjit.

Earlier, Dendelius witnessed the stroke of Astrabelle's genius when she deployed smaller ships toward Oliverian's galleys, forcing the prince to shoot. Although there were only a few pirates aboard cutters and sloops, a flock of them boarding still amounted to a sizable force. As expected, Aten gunners failed to stop them all, and several galleys were boarded, just as the war brigs behind the small ships started firing their cannons. Single shots, broadside... It did not matter, for the galleys near the thick of the fighting were soon either ablaze with fire or boarded by
Terjitian pirates who quickly overpowered their bone-weary enemies.

Behind the brigs were a few dozen cutters, once again set as baits manned by pirates wielding bow and arrow to pluck out the rowers of enemy galleys. They fired with wood and steel, followed quickly by flaming arrows and heavy cannonballs to set the vessels on fire. If they failed, there were more brigs behind them to finish the job, painting a hellish picture that would haunt Dendelius for years to come. If he had years ahead.

Smoke began to fill the air, shrouding the sight from Dendelius' eyes. But he had seen enough to know how Astrabelle fought. Not the typical woman, this one. She would sacrifice her men to achieve her ends, would throw down her own life to please her queen.

He could not allow her to land ashore and bring ladders to scale Fort Victorious' walls. She might have lost some men, but she had enough to lay a successful siege in Tichka Plateau. Hers were vicious pirates, accustomed to taking and following orders from a woman with a spine of steel and a will of iron; his were landlubbers accustomed to drinking and feasting, growing fat and faint-hearted within the walls. Astrabelle's men would massacre them all.

With shaking hands, Dendelius tore the spyglass from his eyes. He stared at the small roll of parchment that was carried by a parrot from the final line of offence that Astrabelle had: the war frigates that bore Treyzi and her band of Amazonian-warriors-turned-pirate-queens. The message read: "Throw down your weapons, open the gates of Fort Victorious, and receive me as your bride. You and I shall rule Tichka Plateau side by side, and the lives of those who are under your protection will be spared. Fight, and you will taste the wrath of the Iron Maiden, for your lives shall be forfeit."

Dendelius closed his eyes, remembering the floating bodies and vessel parts that littered the waters a few leagues from this fort. He could not ask his people to lay down their lives for a lost cause. He had no choice.

As he turned his back to the sea and walked to the nearest guard tower of the palace, Dendelius could almost hear a dirge playing in the background, a final requiem to rest his cursed soul. For, whatever his decision was, only certain death awaited him. There was a reason why Queen Treyzi's crew was named The Praying Mantis.
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The Kings of Cobalt Ocean
By: Zaccaza (Emerald Ocean)

This story uses fictional characters.
Please note: This story uses the islands and Jade Archipalego of the former Cobalt Ocean

This is an old pirate tale from years ago in which my captain told me, and his captain told him. On an urbanized island titled Dragon’s Nest in an ocean once called Cobalt lived a King. He called himself Cobalt Blue in correspondence with his self-acclaimed ocean. What the people of Dragon’s Nest did not know about him was that he had the beauty of a king and a heart of a sailor. His wife, and first mate, Silverbirch, sailed on his first voyage and since then have sailed the rough seas in search of high tales and more importantly, more land.
One battle sticks out the most in any tale that my captain ever told me and it was the blockade of Kirin that filled the ocean with a miserable loss among all kings. Kirin was also ruled by royalty, his name was Blackpatch.
Blackpatch’s first encounter with Silverbirch was the Royal’s Ball held on Viridis every August at the peak of the full moon. They sat across from each other, Silverbirch from Blackpatch, Cobalt Blue from Elaine – Blackpatch’s wife. Meals were finished and hands were washed. The dance begun. It was beautiful. The sky turned a nice ultramarine blue and the stars acted as small spotlights high in the sky. A drunken Blackpatch met on the floor with a wasted Silverbirch claiming that she stole loot from his ship while the rest of the party was dancing. There was evidence that Silverbirch was nowhere to be found as Cobalt Blue sat at the table awaiting the return of his lover.
“Damsel, ye must return all of my booty to me vessel before I send you straight to Davy Jones’ Locker!” His voice boomed catching the eyes of all around.
“Billions of blistering barnacles! You dare excuse me? My highness will have you removed from our ocean.”
“This ain’t yer ocean,” Blackpatch yelled drawing his rapier, “This is open water. The water belongs to the people!”
Blackpatch’s rapier dug deep into the chest of Silverbirch. The crowd screamed in horror. Men tossed their wives behind them and drew weapons. No one saw Cobalt Blue fly through the sky and fling his falcon towards the face of Blackpatch. Blackpatch as quick on the defence.
“I declare war on Blackpatch and the Kirin Navy!”
“Captain Blue, your flotilla has been prepared. Engage?”
“All hands on deck.”
The angered King leapt into action and both the King’s Flotilla, the navy of Dragon’s Nest and the crew of his pirates took to Kirin. The king was awaiting them and the entire island, which at the time was a solid fortress, waited defensively. Cannons were fired from sea behind Cobalt’s flotilla. Ships began to sink and Cobalt soon realized he was outnumbered. Within seconds, just his ship was left and without any cannonballs or rum left in storage, Cobalt awaited his fate. The ship was sunk. An immense fog appeared suddenly and mysteriously as a large Grand Frigate appeared out of the fog and the waters turned red as the sunken bodies rose to the surface. On the helm of the Black Ship was Silverbirch who vanished in a light breeze. Skellies rose onto Kirin dragging Blackpatch out to sea.
My captain says that in times like today, whenever someone attacks a weaker opponent, the black ship appears and protects the target, thus making you vulnerable. If you cannot run, you better know how to swim. It is rumoured that in August near Viridis, the ghost ship sails to Kirin disappearing over the wreckage and the burial place of Cobalt Blue where the mourns of mermaids echo beneath the water surface for a lover and his lover, lost at sea forever.
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Pirate: Annandale
Ocean: Cerulean

None of these pirates, you will be relieved to know, actually exist outside of my imagination.

In the still, remote reaches of the Opal archipelago, dawn came as it always did - coldly, over quiet snow-shrouded lumps of sleeping islands where few came, and fewer stayed.

As ever, a few hardy boats bobbed at the docks of Nu and Endurance, while away in the misty, chilly arms of the outer islands nothing stirred. The merchant brigs and nippy cutters of those who searched for gold and rare goods lay swaying and creaking on the slow-moving, ice-cold empty sea.

But this morning, ghosting quietly through the grey seas, came a ship. A quiet ship, manned only by swabbies who now and then remarked on the freshness of the sea air, but otherwise toiled silently at their appointed stations. The ship slid into dock at Nu, the swabbies disappeared like wraiths, and all was silent again.

And then, as if by magic, there appeared upon the dock a glorious figure, clad in gold and black, a golden crown atop his pomaded pink locks. A mighty warrior bearing the scars of a thousand encounters in seas where dreadful monsters dwell. A peg leg, an eyepatch, a claw where a hand had been sliced away.

The figure surveyed the quiet harbour, uttered a short laugh, and lifted the claw to the skies. A chest, fearsome to behold, materialised from the air and landed without a sound upon the earth of the island. The figure flicked a last glance over the sleeping land and was gone.

A small boy found the chest, and ran to tell his mother, a woman wise in the ways of piracy. She made haste to the palace, where the governor lay sleeping. A hearty was found, and another, and eventually the governor was roused and came blinking and concerned into the light of day, her sleeping cap still upon her head. The ominoua chest was examined, the blacksmith called, the lock opened and the glittering poe within exposed to the day.

"Gold!" cried the small boy and rushed forward. But as his fingers touched the first coin, the poe evaporated, leaving only a scrap of paper on which was inscribed an Intent to Contest.

"But who are these Pernicious Pink Tartlettes?" asked the Governor, bewildered. "I've never heard of any such flag."
She brightened up a little, looking at the small pink sloop that had arrived with the dawn. "Look at all the flags with hearts on them, and the wrapped presents. Surely pirates who bedeck their boats with cupids and pink couches won't be much of a problem."

The gathered pirates looked dubiously at the cupids and couches. The governor uttered a sharp cry. "I've been poked by Glisten, the governor of Tinga!" she cried."

"Half yer luck," muttered someone at the back of the small crowd. "Wish he'd poke me - he be a toothsome morsel fer sure!" Several pirates lol-ed and a few got out their laptops and did a /w Glisten.

The governor read rapidly. "He says that a huge fleet of war brigs and frigs has appeared at his island overnight." She read some more. "He says that strange green people with names like Jobbingcontact and Shipcoordinator are lurking in the pub and around the docks." She gulped. "He says they bought all the cannonballs on Tinga, even the really expensive ones that no-one ever buys. I have to get to Tingha right now - someone hand me my whisk!"


The governor apparated onto the docks at Tinga. When a small child snickered and pointed she held her head high and ignored him. Then she remembered she was still wearing her sleeping cap and had to go home and get changed.

The second time she arrived no-one laughed. She was clad in finest purple, bedecked with indigo, a sign of her status as a fearsome vanquisher of cursed foes. Glisten came forth to meet her, and together they surveyed the ranks of foreign warships lined up at the wharves. "Can I count on yer support in these terrible times?" she asked him.

"I'll have to check with my king, but I guess so," said Glisten. "Our flag isn't called 'Blockade Till Ye Drop' fer nothin'"

The governor looked at him gratefully. "I am a queen as well as a governor." she said. "While yer wisdom and advice will always be of value, I must speak with yer king. Can you /invite him somewhere private where we may confer?"

Glisten rofl-ed. "He likes a well-endowed pirate and look at ye - when he sees that Ultimate Pirate trophy of yours - aye, I reckon Bigshot will be mighty happy to-"

A great, cloaked and masked figure appeared on the dock, challenged several pirates loitering nearby to rumbles, swordfights and a drinking game, and then strode over.

"This is Bigshot," Glisten said, throwing down his cloak so his monarch would not have to walk around a puddle at the end of the dock. "Did ye win?" he asked his king.

The new arrival looked back at the drooping figures of his recent opponents. "I always win," he said, putting away his falchion, his blackjack and an old mug he'd probably won in Atlantis. "Who are you, beautiful? Why aren't you on my hearty list? Do you have any ult rankings? Frenetic forage?"

The governor pursed her lips and launched into her tale of woe. Bigshot listened, all ears, even though they could not be immediately discerned under his new Bieber haircut.

"Fear not," he pronounced when the queenly torrent of words finally dried up. "Glisten and I and the rest of BTYD will be at yer side when ye defeat those knarly knaves."

Time passed. Bigshot contacted other sovereigns. No-one knew who the upstart Pink Tartelettes were, but everyone offered to come and help so they could check them out. By the end of the day, three medium-sized flags and a couple of whoppers were lined up to help. Several others donated a boat or two, none of them pink. Several ace blockade navvers were lined up. Someone brought a shipfull of cannonballs to Nu, all the way from Spring. The cannonball makers on Spring were ecstatic and fully supported the blockade effort, even going so far as to offer a bulk discount of 8 poe each for large cbs.

But no-one could find out anything about the Pernicious Pink Tartelettes. Rumours abounded. Their ships had all been renamed. They were alts of the fifty most feared pirates on all of the seas. They were going to raze Nu to the ground, starting with the beloved Sexi Starr Furnishing Shoppe. They were going to overrun the island with pet rats and ban all sheep.

"I can't bear it," wailed the Governor. "Nu is so lovely. We have no undesirables here - why, even zombies and skeletons leave, because no-one can ever find them. Our building are so nice and cosily placed right next to each other. And it's not like we're stagnating - we have a lovely new interocean route right here on our doorstep."

A glacially cold voice intervened. "Yes, madam," it said. "You do have that interocean route and that is your downfall. Your little Elysian Paradise must fall, so that we may use it as a stepping stone - to Cerulean West and beyond!

The figure stepped into the light. The governor's fingers trembled as she input the command to inspect the newcomer's pirate information. Illmashyerbones The name inspired fear, the presence commanded it. A blaze of gold and black, topped by that merciless pink hair and noseless, inimical face. The cruel glint of white, white teeth.

Yes, it was true. Illmashyerbones was indeed Monarch of the Flag Pernicious Pink Tartelettes, Captain of the crew Prettiest in Pink, Although Attractive in Other Colours. Here to take her island. Her home. Her income from island improvements.

"Must it be war?" she asked, lip quivering.

"Aye, Madam Governor."

"I am not alone," she said. "My allies -"

"Oh, pish to yer allies," that freezing, slightly bored voice said. "You could be allies with every great flag back to the time of Robert Donald, and even that would not save ye. Show her, lads."

Limp bodies wrapped in exotic carpets were dragged in. The governor read the names above their heads, dread and horror rising in her throat and bursting forth in a scream. "You blaggards!"

"Surrender" growled Illmasheryerbones. "Or they die." He prodded the form labelled 'Hera' with his falchion. "She's first. Along with all of her eggs. Then this wise guy." The falchion hovered over 'Cleaver'. And we have others.

"I surrender," whispered the Governor.

And thus began the Nu World Order.
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Revolut of Meridian
2498 words by wordcounttool.com incl titles.

A Clash of Brigand Kings

The Skullsplitter

Brynhild looked paler than usually. The carrier pigeon flew in with a letter, sealed with a red waxen Eternal Flame seal of Azabard the Great.

She looked up, her eyes cold as ice, "Azabard has been murdered."

Icy Jane gasped, "These are treacherous times, my lady, with the disappearance of Barnabas and the return of the Black Ship".

Brynhild nodded. The Black Ship had not been sighted for many years, but who was captaining it if Barnabas had gone missing? It was entirely likely that he was on that accursed vessel, but usually he would be more forthcoming about it, announcing it to as far as the mainland. No, some other darker power was at work here. "Jane, make sure that five of my finest longships are ready to set sail tomorrow at first light, I have a visit to make." Brynhild did not like the madman at all, but no one knows the isles better than he.

The Fish

"The flame is not as eternal as he would proclaim," chuckled Finius. "I wonder who did the deed. Usually he ransoms himself off with shiny trivialities; seems that this person wanted more than just a trinket." Finius mused to himself as he sipped his tea. "The ocean is ripe, the tides flow favourably; we shall take this ocean for ourselves. Assemble the fleet!" His council bowed and left.

"And where have you gone, Barnabas? What game are you playing?"

The Skullsplitter

"Cursed isles! Man the all stations! This won’t be an easy ride!" The officer barked his orders. The green fog swirled eerily around the small island. Vargas would be here, somehow he always knew which one of his islands would be visited next. Mad he was, but he had a true knack for knowing all the happenings of the ocean.

"Rafts spotted! Fighters ready!" The haphazardly strewn rafts were almost hidden in the fog until they neared the ship. Some were piloted by Vargas’ Enlightened Ones, fanatics devoted to his cause, others, mere zombies. An Ice Viking did not fear the reanimated, they are but weak flesh. A few of the more brazen rafters floated close to the longships, but most were easily dispatched by cannons. A few zombies scrambled on board, but were no match for the mailed fists of the Vikings.

Soon, they were upon the island. "Hold fast men, do not pillage this place as lesser pirates do, we have come only to speak with the Mad One." she spat, "Let’s not have need for unnecessary bloodshed." They stood upon the shore while cultists approached screaming.

"My Lady, they do not seem to be in the mood to speak," Icy Jane readied her war axe.

Brynhild nodded and took her battle axe in hand, "We shall just have to draw out their master then!" she announced as a cultist tried to stab her with a spear. Stepping within its range she quickly disposed of him. A short battle ensued until suddenly Vargas was upon them.

"The Ice Queen! Tis a bit too warm here for your pale beauty, is it not?" he had that deranged grin, but his presence at least caused the cultists to take a step back. Some of her men were dead, but more cultists lay at their feet.

"Vargas the Mad, you know why I’m here," she still held her axe at the ready. Vargas hadn’t earned his title without reason.

"You have journeyed so far from your icy reaches to this ocean to raid a few small settlements, not even I see the sense in this madness."

"Not the ocean, here on your accursed isle. I come seeking information about Azabard."

"Ah the king of fire has been extinguished, it is true he made more than a few enemies in his time," Vargas stared at his rings, as if the secret to turning tan cloth to gold was inscribed upon them. "I do not know who would have doused your fiery lover, but I know who would gain."

Brynhild was taken aback by that, "How did you know of our… relationship?"

"You come to me seeking information and you are surprised it is information I have? Truly, I wonder why they call me the crazy one," he then burst into hysterical laughter. Brynhild waited patiently for it to subside, before he continued, "I would imagine the Fish had something to do with this, but for what gain?" Brynhild knew. Azabard’s grip his neighbouring archipelagos was tenuous at best, although he kept the appearance of solid hold. Finius would doubtlessly swoop in.

"Truly you know nothing? I am loath to suggest this, but this is beyond us both. We should combine our powers and work towards finding the murderer," Brynhild sensed this was a mistake, but she saw no other alternative.

"What a marvellous idea. Unfortunately, I’ve never been one to play nice with all the other children and these isles do have a reputation I need to uphold. I do apologise, my icy queen," Brynhild readied her axe waiting for Vargas to make a move, when suddenly darts flew from the bushes behind him.

"What is… this… poison… Vargas… you cow-," her helmet fell off as she hit the sand, the world slightly darker and warmer.

Barnabas the Pale

His vision slowly came into focus. Then he realised he was cold, so very cold. He tried to recall what he could last remember. There was fire, a lot of fire, but why was there fire? Where was the fire? He looked around to see nothing but sea. "Have I finally been claimed? Has Poseidon finally seen fit to cast me down? Why am I not drowned beneath the sea then, only to float above it for eternity?" He looked around again, nothing to see, nothing to be seen.

"Bugger this," he raised his arms and blue flame swirled around him but then went out in a puff. "Avast! What treachery! Where is my ship?" For the first time in his second life, Barnabas felt what might have been a twinge of fear. Off to the east a small ship appeared to be sailing closer. It looked only to be a sloop, but when a man is drowning anything to grab hold on. "As if I could drown," Barnabas chuckled and paddled his way to the ship.

The crew seemed sighted him and steered towards him, obviously thinking he was just another poor sod recently planked, not noticing his skeletal structure until he launched himself onto the deck of the ship. "Hear me now, mortal humans! I am Barnabas the Pale and this ship is now mine!"

A man with a turban and beard almost as impressive as Barnabas’ strode forth, "Not quite, my unearthly friend, but its destination will suit you just as well," Azabard said.

The Emperor’s Advisor

"And finally there seems to be some trouble brewing out in the archipelagos."

"There is nothing but trouble brewing in the archipelagos, Lord Gregory," the Emperor cut off his advisor. "We’ve built up outposts and attempted to garner more control. The islands can rot amongst themselves, Advisor." The outposts were largely a failure, but the piracy left the mainland largely untouched, the Emporer wasn’t too concerned.

"As you say, my emperor. That is all for today," Lord Gregory, Chief Advisor the Emperor took his leave. He was going to check up on these reports of inland strife, when he was hurriedly summoned to the docks by a page.

Upon arrival he did not believe his eyes. "The Black Ship, it is called?" the advisor asked as he looked on the biggest vessel he had ever seen. It did not seem to have a crew but its so-called captain assured him it was unrivalled in a fight.

"Yes, my Lord, it has had other names, but is most fearfully known as the Black Ship. If it was amongst your fleet, none would stand in your path," this man was clad all in black, his face and hair hidden in a well worn bandana. He wore a long black jacket with a cape, black pants, and black buckled boots. Only his fingers a had a touch of colour on them

"And what would you have of us, to turn over this ship to the Imperial Navy?" the advisor was certain he could see through the ship to the seas beyond.

"First of all, my Lord, none can captain it but myself, since I have the necessary… talents, required. And secondly, I ask only a favour."

The advisor lost both his children to the pirates of the archipelagos, he was not about to relinquish this chance to strike back at them. "Name your price, captain."

The red and white rings on his fingers gleamed as he smiled, "To be the King of all the Islands."

The Skullsplitter

Brynhild rose slowly, her head still spinning. She opened her eyes and decided she was not dead. If that was the case, what about her crew? "Hello?" she called out. She could only see the walls of a shack, with one door. She stood up, to find her hands were bound and her legs weak.

A masked man opened the door, pale sunlight filled the room, "The Ice Queen has awoken," he said, "Welcome back."

"Where am I?" her head was groggy, "What have you done with my crew?"

"Your crew is feasting below the waves, your Ice. But do not fear, you have work yet to do."

Brynhild felt the heat rise to her cheeks, "You murdered my crew? How dare you! We did not come here to fight."

"No, you came here to lose," with that he shut the door.

She was trapped in the bare shack. She found a badly hammered nail and slowly she rubbed the rope that bound her hands against it. After what seemed to be hours, her hands were free.

"Guard! Guard! I demand an audience with Vargas!" she then stalked to the door, rope coiled around her hand. The door was swung open and she grabbed the masked man inside and shut the door. She had him pinned with the rope. She ripped his mask off, underneath he was just a frightened man, "What does Vargas want?" she yelled at the man as she tightened the rope around his neck.

"I… will never tell you… Ice Queen!" Brynhild finished him off and donned his mask.

Stepping outside, she saw that she was on the same isle, four of her longships burned in the natural harbour, the last still floated at sea. She wasted no time in walking calmly to the row boats on the shore, when suddenly, a horn sounded. "Pirates approach! Ready the greeting party!" a man laughed nearby and she was in a rush of cultists toward the beach.

A sloop pulled deep in the harbour with Azabard’s men. What business did they have here? Then she saw him, Azabard, leap off the prow and wade towards the beach. Suddenly, skeletons were rising up all around him, but with him, and he made quick work of the first wave of cultists. As he was approaching her he raised his sword but she took her mask off, "It is I!"

"Brynhild! What are you doing here?"

"Never mind that, you’re alive!"

"And my flame burns brighter than ever! I merely needed a distraction to let Vargas think he was in control and now, together, us three can stop his mad plan."

"Three?" Brynhild said.

Barnabas descended from the sloop. "Greetings, Ice Queen. It seems that we have a rather strange alliance founded in rather strange place. Vargas has stolen my ship with an artefact I thought long lost, but he did not finish me off. He cannot be left to rule this land, and we are the only to oppose him. Come, my lady, I think you’ll find I’m a lot more lively than most skeletons you’ve met," an unearthly chuckle left his skull.

The Fish

"All of what once was Azabard’s is now yours, captain. There was only a token resistance at each port of call, easily overwhelmed," a rear admiral told Finius as he looked out over the deck of his frigate. "You would think they would still have the might of their entire fleet, but few ships were to be found.

Finius wondered why everyone had left. Had they all struck out now that their great flame had been snuffed out? Was something more sinister afoot? He didn’t have much time to puzzle it out before another rear admiral came running up to him, out of breath. "What is it? Something is wrong here! Tell me," he demanded of the man.

"The Black Ship! It has been sighted just a few leagues from the archipelago!"

"Ah, so Barnabas will also have a slice of this fiery pie."

"No, my admiral, it doesn’t sail with Barnabas, it sails with the Navy, the Imperial Navy!"

Vargas the Mad

"Every station filled! This ship ran perfectly well with a skeleton crew," Vargas laughed, but quickly sobered to about as sober as Vargas could be. "Brynhild the Ice Queen is upon us. I don’t know how she escaped but she is no match for this Black Ship! To arms!"

The Ice Queen sailed on the horizon, not just with longships but all sizes of frigates. She was no match for this ship, however. Revenge for her dead lover would leave her just as dead.

He set a course to ram, although of course, this ship did no such thing. He was nearing upon the largest of the ships, deciding Brynhild would take safety in its size, when he saw not her, as expected, but another.

"Barnabas?" Vargas said disbelieving as the Black Ship made contact with the frigate, something it was did not usually ever do.

The now materialised black ship was grappled by the frigate and Barnabas himself led the boarding party. "Thought I was dead, did you, Mad One?"

"You are dead! I killed you myself!"

"It is true that Ghostfire can kill me, but you know not how to keep me dead, worm!" he raised his sword and struck at Vargas.

"How… is this possible?" Suddenly, another dead man came into view. "Azabard? But you too are dead!" Vargas coughed as he felt the life drain out of him.

"How do you think you came to acquire the Ghostfire, if not from the Lord of Flame himself? I knew you had treachery in your heart, Vargas. The islands are not to be ruled by one, but by none, that is truly a pirate’s way. True freedom."

He could hear the rest of his ships sinking or aflame but the world was darkening for Vargas, none of that seemed to matter now. "What is more mad… more crazy… than freedom?"
Revolut of Meridian
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Pirate: Bloodyarm
Ocean: Emerald
Word Count: 2365, according to Word Count Tool

This story uses the names of existing pirates (ranks, titles, familiars and all) in Emerald Ocean, though the account itself is highly fictitious. It was a fun tale to tell, and I hope that readers find it fun to read, too. Enjoy! :)



The captain stood near the prow of the ship, enjoying the scent of salt and sea as the Immortal Fleet cut through the dark waters of the eastern portion of Emerald Ocean. Once, this part of the world had been known as "Hunter," the Home of Heroes, a heavenly haven of blood and vessels, steel and storms. It had been small and isolated, but it was home, and no man who called himself pirate would have traded it for all the treasures found in the dark depths of Atlantis.

But as all good things come to pass, so did those golden days of imaginary isolation. Ancient powers willed, and where they willed, there was wonder. Soon, stalwart ships from Sage, the Shore of Swashbucklers, set out to explore the seven seas, breaching the sacred sanctuary that had once protected Hunter from foreign forces. It was the spark that saw to the fall of fragile frontiers, making possible the merger of two different cultures that were kept secret from each other for at least six millennia. Then came the birth of a whole new world of piracy, a world where wonders were wrought each day and pirates explored new horizons without ever wondering if they were sailing to the edge of the world.

It was a great day, a monumental day. Undoubtedly, it would go down pirate history with the same flair and flourish that announced the first routing of the legendary black ship El Pollo Diablo. But very few knew the story of the Great Royal War that took place before then, a war that saw to the fall of the mighty Vilyans and the rise of the Naryans: a war that decided the fate of the oceans forever.

But the captain knew, and he was not likely to forget. Soon--very soon--his king would rise and reclaim his rights, and the reign of the false Ringers would end as swiftly as it had begun.



A scrap of parchment arrived before dawn, firmly fastened on the fifth arm of its bearer, the familiar Acherontia. The mere sight of the grey octopus had caused Demeter's blood to drain from her face. Atropos would never send out her cherished companion for a puny mission. The message to be delivered was highly sensitive, and to make sure that only Demeter's eyes feasted on it, the Unturnable One had sent Acherontia.

And sensitive the message was, though it was brief in its entirety. Demeter glanced at it once again even though she already knew the words by heart: "Mutiny in your hands. Poseidon plans to take over. Take heed. Send cakes. I hunger."

She should have known. Atropos had never done well without a steady supply of cakes. The soft, sweet goodness of those baked delights was, so to say, oil to Atropos' machine. To deny her request would have devastating results. The woman had a strange tendency to cut threads when cake supply runs low, and her constant snipping and cutting would drive Clotho mad. And Clotho, who oversees the smooth running of all weavery and tailor shoppes in the four islands that Narya controlled, was the one pirate that Demeter did not want to annoy. Cloths and threads were not Demeter's forte; harvesting, on the hand, was, whether it be crops or gold we are talking about.

But first things first. Cakes. Where would she find cakes in these desperate times? Every island was currently low on flour. It was a commodity that Prometheus took the liberty of using to make his orange monkey happy. Apparently, the monkey had developed a craving for banana cream pie. There was no flour to be had for miles and miles around.

Demeter sighed. Maybe she would put to the test the cook's dependable assistant, Cleaver. Surely, he would know where to find kitchen ingredients? As a prince of the flag, he would have all types of clearance needed to do as he wanted; he could do the job.

With that disaster averted, she now focused her attention on other, lesser concerns.

Mutiny. Did Atropos mention mutiny? She checked the parchment to be sure. True enough, it was written there.

Poseidon. That stubborn scallywag who styled himself "God of the Sea" was on it again, building castles in the air with the help of his gangs of 'goons. Or rather, they built themselves U-shaped citadels guarded by dragoon-manned, sea-monster-inspired vessels. The whole thing would have been a threat if only they found a way to make the citadels stand for longer than twenty-five turns of the hourglass. So far, there was no hope in that front, and Demeter was not concerned.

Still, mutiny was mutiny. She would send Prometheus to Atlantis to torch the shrimpheads down. Poseidon the Traitor Prince would know who really held the reins here.

With a high-pitched laugh, Demeter tossed the scrap of parchment out to the sea. No need to worry now. Her fellow Dread Ringers would take care of the rest. All she needed to do was proudly wear the crown. And harvest some fruits, if she were feeling up to it. But she was not feeling up to it. Harvesting gold, on the other hand...

Humming to herself, Demeter searched for her foraging tools. She might never win the heart of Poseidon's familiar Nugget, but other shiny nuggets she could mine on her own.


"Did she buy it?" he asked, hands trembling in excitement as he raised a spyglass to his eye. Three more vessels were coming his way, the flagship being the Immortal Fleet, captained by a pirate who used to serve in his palace in Hunter. Educated Ernest had been a mere trainer then, teaching new pirates how to rumble or swordfight, but Poseidon saw the man's potential and made him captain of a navy fleet. As such, Ernest became one of Poseidon's most loyal subjects, and soon he would join the ranks of dragoons as an Athanatoi, an Immortal, commander of vessels and master of citadels.

Beside him, a future Nauarchos, batch nineteen hundred and twelve, looked suddenly baffled. "Buy it, Yer Highness? Oh, no, no. She said she has no gold. Lost it when their ship sunk, ye see. We said we haul the treasure aboard a Scout Triketos so she can pay, but, 'No,' she said, 'I fancy meself a sea dagger or a broken trident tine.' She said she pays well."

Poseidon tore the spyglass away to glare at the man. "Are ye daft?"

The look of confusion that crossed the man's face was enough of an answer. Poseidon took a deep breath. Soon enough, the man's daftness would be dealt with. A spell developed by Vargas the Mad would cure the pirate of this inborn simplicity of the mind, and then he would be fit to be a Nauarchos, an admiral of the Atlantean fleet. But the process would take time, and time was not a luxury Poseidon could yet afford, so he changed strategies.

"When I asked if she bought it, I didn't mean the captive pirate ye've been haggling with," he explained. "I meant Clotho, ye scatterbrain. Clotho! Did she believe the message?"

"Ah!" The smile that brightened the pirate's face gave Poseidon hope, which was thankfully not crushed by the report that followed. "Clotho. Aye, Yer Highness, aye. The Narya is still out of cakes. Atropos is terribly upset. Her thread-cutting drives Clotho insane. So Clotho says, aye, she will spin a web for ye in exchange for cakes."

"Excellent!" Poseidon exclaimed. "Now, me friend, go forth to the forge and let the fires of Atlantis cleanse yer mind and soul. Drink the elixir of immortality concocted by me hearty, Vargas. Embrace the new life of a dragoon and get yerself some brains!"

Laughing, Poseidon sent the man off with a pat on the back. Excitement thrummed through his veins at the thought of once again ruling the oceans. If Clotho agreed to his plans, it would just be a matter of time before he wrested control from Demeter. Already, the Spinner of threads had woven strings that Poseidon used to move the puppet-pirates in his old flag, Vilya. The puppets were mere shadows of the flesh-and-blood Ringers, but he remained convinced that the others would see some sense and align themselves with him in order to defeat Demeter. So he laid low for years, dormant to the eyes of the world, but always plotting, always waiting for that one big chance to reclaim glory.

With a spring in his steps, Poseidon marched to the forge where the fierce breaths of flames formed exclusive weapons and armours for his dragoons. Outside, rows and rows of pirates were being trained to use their three-tined tridents, the ancient weapon that had been Poseidon's own symbol of power for millennia. Further down by the dock, shipwrights of all age and sizes constructed heavily-armed ships that looked like the sea monsters of old, painted with the colours of Atlantis that had been thought lost for centuries.

This, thought Poseidon, this would pave me way back to victory.


If flags had red-light early-warning systems, she would definitely be hearing the shrill, shrieking alarms by now.

"She loves me... She loves me not." Demeter sighed, plucking the last petal of the white daisy she was holding. Tears sprang to her eyes at the answer she was given.

The flower was an old gift from Clotho, preserved in the magical trinket case that she won from Azarbad the Great. When devastating news of Cleaver's failure to locate flour reached her ears, Demeter knew that it was only a matter of time before Atropos' sulking prompted Clotho to cut her losses and work for Poseidon. And now, even the daisy from her old friend shattered the remains of the Naryan queen's heart.

She had to somehow get Clotho back. There might be no more cakes, but there were still burritos to be had, and Demeter knew of Clotho's ungodly craving for burritos. Why, the woman even named her familiar "Chimichanga" in honour of the deep-fried variety of the cuisine. This was Clotho's ultimate Achilles' heel, and it was unlikely that Poseidon had the wits to hire a cook who knew how to prepare that delicious food. Demeter, on the other hand, had all the gold in the world to export burritos. It would have to do.

And speaking of Poseidon...

That bearded old man was starting to rub her the wrong way. Did he really mean to wage war? Well, then, she would give him war. This time, she would bring it to his shores--stealthily, of course, since he was still a prince of Narya. What would her subjects think of her if Demeter started bashing a flagmate's stubborn head? No, no. She already had a plan in mind.

"LELANTOS!" she cried, calling for one of the last cabin persons in her crew. The game called for stealth, and who better to call than the player whose name itself meant "to move unseen"?

The man appeared in record time. "Aye, Majesty?"

"Do ye still have the key to Poseidon's chambers?" she asked, anticipating Lelantos' nod of assent. She was not disappointed. "Perfect. Go forth and grab some of the maps leading to his Atlantean outposts. Distribute the maps to brigands and barbarians, to skellies and zombies, and to the landlubbers who own black markets."

Lelantos turned pale--so pale that Demeter feared he might soil his pants. "M--Majesty? I am a mere cabin person, Majesty. And Poseidon..." He swallowed. "Poseidon is a senior officer, a titled member of the flag..."

"Aye, and I am captain and queen," Demeter reminded him. "Did ye read the pamphlet distributed before ye were hired? The Dread Ringers is autocratic. Autocratic, me man, means I alone get to decide what's best for the crew. And methinks I made it clear that this is what's best for the crew. Steal the maps and hand them out, and ye might even earn yerself an officership and a title to boot."

She watched Lelantos bow and take his leave before Demeter allowed herself a smile. Ah, Poseidon, mate. Ye haven't played this game for as long as I had...


He received the written report with trembling hands.

Poseidon paused. Trembling hands? The years were catching up to him, it seemed. Or was it rage that made his hands tremble? It was quite possible, for the news angered him so.

The Flooded Frontier, the Mysterious Monastery of Nereus, the Sunken Sanctuary of Phorkys--all of them had been raided, looted by pirates who claimed to be after ancient lockers and sunken boxes. And now, more pirate ships were sighted, heading for the Jagged Arena and the Lost Shrine of Leucothea. Poseidon knew this to be the work of Demeter's hands--hers and that traitor Lelantos', the only Ringer who could slip into his chambers without being seen.

Wait until I win back what is rightfully mine, the angry Poseidon thought, imagining the grey-haired pirate who owned the parrot Earl. I will demote ye to cabin person and strip away yer title, little hidey-ho. Just ye wait.

Yet, that was not his only problem. Clotho was gone again, lured by the smell of deep-fried burritos that drifted across the oceans like the light of a beacon that guided lost pirates home. The woman had come running back to Demeter, mouth watering and stomach growling, drooling for a taste of her favourite food.

But no matter. Poseidon had taken the bitter pills of failure countless of times before, and he had survived, as he would survive this new onslaught of problems that would drive a lesser pirate as mad as Vargas. He had sea monsters to command, dragoons to serve his cause. And now he had bought himself time--plenty of time to pluck the crown from Demeter's pretty blonde head.

So he would wait. He would bide his time. He had the wealth of the oceans in his hands, an endless flow of treasures in his antediluvian chests. He was Poseidon, father of dragoons and god of the sea: in due time, he would be king.
This is me------>Bloodyarm
[Edit 12 times, last edit by Blackfire45 at Jul 6, 2012 9:15:07 AM]
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Pirate - Abrum

Ocean – Meridian Ocean

Wordcount – 2500

This story is roughly based on a true blockade and historys, using mostly real pirates.

This hasn't work the past five or six times (it wouldn't show the quotes.) So I made a link to it on Wordpress. Same words and the same wordcount.



It was a wintery dark December night in the eastern Viridian Islands. The Brotherhood had fallen and their islands separated among many new and rising powers. The once imperial empire now consumed by pirate kings and lords. The young Vickson lay in the sands of the coast of Dragon’s Nest, the fallen capital of the Brotherhood and their Empire, staring into the cool winter breeze. The young sailor froze slowly among the dunes of the bay, consumed gradually by the moonlit snow…

Chapter 1: The Pirate Bay

The heat baked the sands of the Lima Coast. Pirates roamed among crowds of thousands, making their way to and from the marketplace. The ships stood what seemed to be a thousand feet high above the crowd on the docks. Ropes and flags moved in the wind as pirates and sailors tossed stock around the ships for the afternoon sail.

The young Abrum tried his way through the crowd, being pushed across the platform in a hurry. A horn went off, and guards begin to push the crowd apart in search. Abrum started to make for quicker, pushing out into the open, running up to a tall, broad man in a thick red and blue jacket. The man looked at Abrum and requested his name and receipt.

“Abrum, sir.” He handed the man the receipt pulled from the noticeboards. The man looks at the information written on it, than stares back at the boy.

“Well, Abrum, ye better be as good as ye claim. My name is Jonathon, and I’m leading this voyage to the Lonely Lagoon.”

“Perfect. When we heading out?” Abrum seemed nervous, looking back and around.

Jonathon looked up, noticing guards moving quickly across the docks in search of someone. He looks back at Abrum, and responses, “I guess now, let’s hurry.” They begin for a large, black and gold ship, 30 cannons wide. The ship is full of motion as men of all types moved supplies and the sails lowered with great speed.

The guards reached the ships, looking around. One of them yelled, “Where’d that thief go!” And another pointed at the ship, screaming “There!”

Jonathon looked back at them, than yells at his men to set sail. The ship began to move. The guards moved up to the plank as it rises above them. They began to yell at the ship to stop, but before they could do anything, the ship had moved beyond them.

The ship swayed around a crowd of ships, until it broke free of port, and headed into the ocean.

Chapter 2: The Black Tulip

The crew had just gone through battle, having pillaged a small merchant vessel. It was sailing slowly, to allow for the men to repair the ship.

Jonathon walked across the ship in search of Abrum, who had taken a position in the lower decks. Jon went down into the hold and spotted the boy fixing holes.

“Abrum, ye fought well against that crew.” Jon said. Abrum looked up from his post to reply.

“Thank you, Jon.”

“Ye enjoying that nice sum of loot ye got? There be more if ye do yer job well.” Abrum nodded. Jon continued, “Can I ask ye something, lad. Why were ye being chased earlier?”

Abrum looked up again and answered, “I was being chased by the Coalition for theft. I stole bread and some other food.”

“Ye one of them homeless types?”

Abrum nodded, than continued to work on the holes. Suddenly, a tall, dark skinned man with black dreadlocks walked into down the stairs. He wore a black jacket and a captain’s hat, with beads in his hair. “Abrum?”

Abrum looked back up for the third time, and nodded.

“I’m the captain of this crew. Zwartetulp. I saw your abilities in the last battle. What’s your history? Your skills tell me your no swabby”

Abrum stood, “I used to work for the Brotherhood without Banners. I was an officer directly under Sero.”

Zwartetulp looks him dead in the eye, and speaks, “The Brotherhood? They fell 5 years ago, you’d been no more than 15 or 16 back then.”

“I was 15 at the time.”

“15, and you were a Senior official under the captain?”

“Yes. I fought in the last battle against the Rebel Crusaders, before the empire fell to them. My ship sunk against their flag ship. I was the only survival…”

“… Jon, can, I speak with him a while?” Zwartetulp asked. Jon nodded and left. “Abrum. When the Rebels collapsed the Brotherhood, Our founder, The Dead Leader, was a senior in the flag. Built this flag to try and return order to the ocean. He led this crew, the Dark Revenge, to greatness before he had to lay down his arms.”

Abrum looked down to toss his hammer into the carpenter’s box. He looked back up to speak, “And he hand the crew to you?”

“No. He gave it to my captain, Illegitimate. He sadly died 2 months after. He was a great leader, and I can only hope to be as good as him. What I’m getting at is that I use the ones close to me, that I lose, to inspire me and lead me forward. Your captain was a great leader, and you should take after him… Try to be great like him, and not worry about your own downfalls.”

“… Thank you Captain.”

“Please, call me Zwartetulp. I’m not your captain… Unless you’re planning on joining a crew someday…”

Abrum smiled, and lift his hand. Zwartetulp moved to shake it. “Welcome, Officer Abrum.”

“Officer?” Abrum seemed surprised by the title.

“Yes, I trust you.” Zwartetulp confirmed the agreement. Abrum smiled with a sense of belonging as Zwartetulp moved up the deck, his voice carrying commands to other crewmate as the hatch closes.

Chapter 3: The pillage

The dawn broke across the red sky. Sounds of chirping and crickets welcomed the sun as it rose above the waters around the Lonely Lagoon.

Abrum walked out into the waters to wash his face. Suddenly, Zwartetulp and Jon appeared from the makeshift docks, 20 or 30 yard away. “Abrum! We need ye!” Jon yelled out.

Abrum made his way across the sands. “Yes?”

Zwartetulp started to speak, “I need to inform you of a little… issue. You see, since the start of last year, we have been at war with another flag.”

“Really? Who?” Abrum seemed interested by this sudden news.

“A rogue flag called the Apple Core. They are a large ruminant of the Rebels. They have, for a great deal of time, owned one of our islands. Raven’s Roost. We have a fleet of large ships ready to blockade the island, and take it back. We, however, still have a ship, fully stocked and paid for.”

“Where are you getting at here? You want me to take the ship into battle?”

Zwartetulp laughed, “No, no… We supplied it for a pillage, but the officer who was going to take the ship out is going into the blockade instead. I wanted you to take the ship out instead”

“Oh, Ok. How many men do I have?” Abrum stared at the small sloop he will be leading.

“110 men. Mostly jobbers.”

“Can do…” Abrum smiled, nodded, and went out to prepare the sloop for the pillage.

Later that morning, Abrum was leading his ship across the increasing waves of the ocean. He looked out to the skies, noticing the clouds across the horizon. He spotted an island in the distanced, and begun to move for it, hoping to reach port before the storm hit him.

“Captain!! Captain!” A jobber shouted. Abrum looked over to the side of the ship to see what appeared to be a war brig. “Whose flag is that?!” He shouted.

“Apple Core!”

Abrum shouted to the crew to load the cannons. The ship moved around the war brig, firing at them. Cannons swept across the water, and wood shot into the sea. Abrum knew the battle was lost, and begun to move the ship out of range towards the island.

Apple core started to move their ship after the destroyed sloop, but was smashed into the sea by a wave carried by a harsh wind.

The sloop made it to the island in the winds and rain of the storm. Lightening lit up the forests of the lonely island, and the sloop tipped over onto shore. Abrum collapsed onto the sands, with his crew shattered across the shore.

Chapter 4: The Memory

Abrum laid there on the bay, staring up at the wintery sky, showered in a cold breeze. He heard a call spoken to him.

Abrum looked to see a tall standing man, covered in blood red robes and cloth. The man was shadowed by the moonlight behind him. “Vickson… Why do you still lay in the sand?”

“I’m not Vickson… Vickson died with his crew…”

“No. Vickson lived on for his men. That their legacy may live on with him. Stand up from the sand.”

“How, Sero… How do I stand again? I stood once, and lost another crew…”

“Vickson… You’re men need you. Your crew needs you. I didn’t look to you to run so many men because you were skilled. I put you in that position because I trusted you with those men. And that trust was well placed. You led them into battle, and did no less a good job than any of my other officers. No one could have saved us. Don’t hold that against yourself. But now your crew needs you. I couldn’t be saved, but your crew can, and must. Lead your men into battle on last time…”

Abrum stared at him with a tear, “But how… I have no ship…”

Sero begun to fade with the winter night, dissolving into the storm and rains surrounding the island. Suddenly, behind the fog of rain, a large ship moved near the island.

A small boat came up to shore, with Jon on it. “Abrum! I heard of the Apple Core ship heading in yer direction. I came to rescue ye!”

“Where is your crew?” Abrum stood in the rain.

“I don’t have one. I came on me own…” Jon shouted back, with water dripping from his hair. “We must hurry, the storm is only gettin’ stronger, and this island will be drowned by it.”

Abrum, and the surviving 102 men from his crew got onto the ship. “Abrum, its yer crew, what do ye want to do?”

“… The blockade… The crew needs our help. We have to go.” Abrum looked at him.

“But… We don’t have the men for that. We’re only one ship.”

Abrum looked out and saw an Imperial Coalition fleet in the distance. “No… We have more than one ship…”

Jon looked out at them. Abrum continued to speak, “The Imperial Coalition’s king died three years ago, and left the coalition to his most trusted adviser… A pirate named Lizzy. She merged her fleets into the Imperial navy.”

“What’s yer point?” Jon didn’t understand.

“Lizzy’s crew had a lot of pirate alliances. One of them was a strong alliance with the Dark Revenge.”

“But they be a large empire now… they won’t care to help a pirate’s flag now…”

Abrum looked at Jon, and smiled, “We can try…”

Chapter 5: The Blockade

Ships lined the coast of Raven’s Roost. Thirty Dark Revenge ships moved into the ranks of Apple Core, who held nearly forty larger ships. Cannon fire flashed through ships, and waves tore through the battlefield.

Zwartetulp stood up deck and stared. Alivi, his officer in controlled of the blockade, ran to him and proclaimed the destruction of several of their ships.

“I understand, Alivi… We might not win this battle… Stay calm, panicking will assure us nothing.”

The storm had started to reach the battle, spreading rain over the ruins of ships sunk across the field. Apple Core had torn through nearly ten ships before losing five of theirs, insuring them a heavy lead.

Apple Core’s king, Ricksan, stood from his ship, watching the battle sway in his design.

Suddenly, showing itself from the fog of rain, a fleet of ships, 45 strong. The fleet marched through the storm, and into battle against Apple Core.

A large Imperial ship moved near the Dark Revenge flag ship, where a lady stood to yell to the crew of the Dark Revenge, “This is Lizzy, of the Imperial Coalition. I am informing you that we have arrived to aid our allies in battle. We will stay and fight beside you until this island is yours!”

Zwartetulp looked confused as to their arrival. Suddenly, he saw past the Imperial ship, at a large Dark Revenge ship entering battle, led by Abrum and Jon. He smiled at the arriving allies, and yelled at his men to continue the fight.

Ricksan stared into the battle with concern… His 35 ships against a combined alliance of 65 ships. The battle begun to sway, both in loses and morale, for the Dark Revenge. Cannon fire started sweeping across the Apple Core flag ship, beating down pirates and chunks of wood. Ricksan stood there blankly reading the losing battle.

The Apple Core fleet had begun retreating from the battle, only seven ships strong. Winds and heavy rain smashed the ships into the rapid waters, taking Apple Core with them. The storm retreated with them, moving on to calmer waters….

Chapter 6: Conclusion

The fleets of the Dark Revenge settled into port, damaged and worn out from battle. The Imperial Coalition had begun to make its journey back to Lima Island, the Imperial capital, having left behind supplies and reassurance to the crew of the Dark Revenge.

Abrum lay on the coast to breath in the warm ocean air. Jon came and laid beside to him. “Hey Abrum, ye remember being chased by the Imperials not but a couple days ago?”

“Ya? What about it?”

“Oh, nothing. Just ironic that you’d gain their support in a large blockade two days later.” He laughed a little, than closed his eyes smiling. “It’s a good thing…”

“What is?” Abrum looked to the side.

“That the captain trusted you…”

Abrum smiled, than looked back up, eyes closed, ready to rest. Tired from the events of today, Abrum started to daydream in the sunlight, breathing in the heat of victory… Remembering the battle against the Rebels five years ago…

Zwartetulp lay beside him, enjoying the clear skies over the island. He noticed the colors of a rainbow over the island, a memorial to the crew and men were fought in the clash.

The Dark Revenge continued to battle rogue crews and rebels for over a decade, returning order to the ocean. Under the Imperial Coalition and allied empires, The Viridian Islands slowly begun to once again prosper in a golden time of peace and brotherhood for everyone who had the courage to make the difference….
[Jul 10, 2012 9:57:38 PM] Show Printable Version of Post        Send Private Message [Link]  Go to top 

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Thanks for your story, Abrum, but the event is closed since Sunday, so we can't take your story into account for the competition:(, but I'm sure many people will still enjoy it as I have.
Locu on Cerulean and Opal (and some other Oceans)

Check the Rack at Phakey's Tailor Stall on Tinga for nice clothes!
Locu's Weaving Stall on Tinga and Cranberry

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[Jul 11, 2012 7:58:10 AM] Show Printable Version of Post        Send Private Message [Link]  Go to top 
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