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We played a merry tune on the crow's nest as our sloop sunk, direct outside the pier.
Splashing into the water I swam for our lifeboat, where Capt waiting but destination unknown.
"How romantic." I thought to comment as we began rowing off, away from where we sank.
"I try," Capt said, falsely, I meant to correct him but we'd already arrived, some small island I'd never seen. Today had been a long day of firsts for me, my first at sea, and I was well used to unknown isles.
Capt readied the harpoon and dragged us well to shore. On top shore in fact.
I had something to say about his parking but he'd already left to dig up something or another. I ransacked the barrels more out of habit than any need, when the happy cry came about.
Chest of a thousand Grogs.
I never partook in it, never saw the point.
But Capt enjoyed it. Thought it fitting for our retirement.
Apparantly it was time to settle in and make a home together.
He was still laughing when his shovel found something else.
The Reaper's chest.
The Capt had come across it before. When he was a one manned crew.
But now, I knew it to be serious.
I told him to get a ship.
And off he went.
Loading up the life boat, hands much calmer than my heart, I began to harpoon my way from the small patch of trees I was stuck in and into open sea.
It caught in the beach maybe half the time, it being the first time I tried using land to anchor a harpoon. But I managed.
And I checked my compass, heading south by oar as quickly as I could, hoping Capt would find me soon.
He did.
Hurriedly, wind not really in our sails, we sailed for Reaper's Hideout.
Surprisingly making it without incident, as my Capt had a way of getting us off track and into trouble.
I grabbed the chest and swam for it as I did most loot of high coin.
When orders came to stop.
Another ship was here.
But still Capt wanted to see if we qualified to sail with Reaper Colors.
So there I stood, stupidly, trackable chest in hand, before the guy, enemies somewhere afoot, under order to stand still.
I was frustrated enough to not keep a close eye to the door.
A man I didnt know eventually took up space in the entry way.
I sold the chest.
Deal done.
Bargain made.
And began to bounce out of there.
Mr. Sea of Salt over here, never introducing himself or anything, decided to shoot me.
I died.
After hearing of my death, due to my constant bitching, truth be told, Capt took matters into his own hands.
He sunk their ship.
Like it was nothing.
Alone.
I left the Ferry and climbed aboard our sloop, the Capt cheerful once more talking something about forts, or what not, for a different day.