Pirate Game Fan Fiction

 

A Survivor's Word (Part 3) by D.S. Deveraux

III

"Destiny!" The Kraken Skulls bartender slid both a mug of Yum and a cup of coffee (its color similar to Destiny's skin) towards the pirate. She held her spear in between her legs and took long sips.

"Hello, I guess I'm back. I lost a piece though," Destiny pointed to her eye, which was patched for the occasion. She could feel the bulge of the ring-box in her coat, making it hard to sit. The moment that Destiny finished her sentence, a small crowd of people gathered around her barstool.

"How'd ye do it this time?" Destiny folded her fingers.

"I.." Destiny looked to the face that had asked the question – it looked oddly familiar, but it had a tinge of difference on it.

"I couldn't have done it without Remmy Lawson the Bold." The face blossomed as Destiny wove her tale. "I was trapped on the barge's deck as we were going into a stormgate, and we took out the forces in it." Destiny heard gasp of approval from the crowd. "While the Armada was stunned, we took row-boats and paddled for the island the rest of the way."

"Where's Remmy?"

"Remmy said.." Destiny gave a knowing look to the asker, the same as before.

"Rem said that he had some business to attend to, and sailed back." Destiny balled her hand into a fist. She nodded. "I salvaged this box of rings from the barge, anyone up for - " Destiny felt coins hit her head and yells go out.

"I want that one!"

"That one!"

"Is that Zafarite? Fifty-nine!"

"Fifty nine? A hundred!" Destiny nearly spit out her Yum.

"Zafarite – a hundred going once, twice,"

"Three hundred!" Destiny wanted to know where THESE people made their money.

"Sold!" Destiny handed a small jeweled ring out to a gloved hand and took what was surprisingly actual gold, and the right amount, too. Not bad at all. Destiny smirked and counted her earnings. The tavern shook at the flood of buyers, and Destiny was down to a box when she left the tavern – a box full of gold. Destiny took the first turn into a general supply shop – probably one of the most well-protected businesses in Skull Island. Destiny left still with gold and enough to get her research started....and a ladder, too.

When she got back to her hut, there were a few troggies at the entrance, chirping somewhat angrily. Destiny put her things down and drew her spear, its sharp point glistening in the midday sun. She swung it around, and knocked down a Troggy as Destiny spun it in her hand and drove the tip into the soft ground. Destiny took a jump into the air, and landed rather shakily on another Troggy. She pulled her spear out, and knocked the Troggy she was riding on over and dove into the final one. Skidding onto the ground and caking her new boots with earth, Destiny half-heartedly laughed, and retrieved her findings. She swung the ladder up towards the entrance, and hurriedly climbed it, her steps being fast and evenly paced. Poking her head into the opening, Destiny found out two things, one being that Troggies could most definitely climb. Her hut was littered with wood shavings, leaves and who-knows-what; and the floor was splintered. Destiny laid her chin on the floor and nearly cried out. She looked to the last sane thing in her home – the walls. The Troggies had drawn a type of graffiti on her round walls, something that she could recognize as a picture. She could make out a ship, and what was probably her. Then, Destiny turned to something a little different. The outline of the figure looked like a clockwork, and that was probably what it was. However, where a human sternum would be, the Troggies had hung two gears on two nails, so their teeth interlocked. Destiny gave the gears a spin, and with a little oil, they would work fine. Destiny stepped back and took the picture in. Simply, the Troggies had painted her escaping again. Sadly, they had forgotten about Remmy, but she would add that in later. For the moment, Destiny was focused on the gears, and on the outline of the soldier. Did they actually mean -

Destiny detected movement. She gasped as her ladder fell. She leaped for it, and made a landing whose impact made her feet sting.

"No!" She yelled in frustration, gazing up at her belongings and glancing down at her feet, which moaned in reply. She nearly laid down on the ground in defeat (and for a nap) when she felt herself rise.

"Don't move a muscle!" Someone beneath giggled as Destiny almost flailed in mid-air. Destiny landed with a slight "fwoomp" on the floorboards, and a smiling pirate floated up, in a sitting position.

"Bet you couldn't do that!" A girl with a blonde ponytail and a hat fashioned out of a skull rose up and sat on the air as if it were a bench. Looking more closely, Destiny noticed green and black highlights in the girl's hair – a witchdoctor by the looks of it. They had given Destiny a hard time for as long as she could remember.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't draw my sword right now," Destiny growled.

"Well, I'm Delaney. Delaney Finch. I just got you up. Can I come in?"

"There's room." Delaney squealed and laughed, joining Destiny, who scowled.

"So, what do you need me for? I'm dead in thirty days."

"So I heard, Avery was mumbling about it."

"Avery was.."

"Yes, and I want to help find your friend." Destiny crossed her legs.

"You're more like a wizard than a witchdoctor."

"I learned quite a bit. How did you know...Swashbuckler."

"I was raised in Grizzleheim, magic was perfectly normal. I'm a Swashbuckler, how?" Destiny raised an eyebrow. Delaney seemed a debate-ready force.

"You have violet eyes." Delaney giggled. "Well, eye. Take off your patch. See? The other one's gold." Destiny furrowed her eyebrows and fastened her patch back down, tracing her finger over the embroidered star.

"OK," She mumbled, a bit confused. Whenever she looked at herself, her eyes were green, as usual. It must have been a witchdoctor thing. "Do you have a ship?"

"A ship? Well.." Delaney bit her bottom lip and traced her foot in the air. "I have a skiff."

"Really?" Destiny sat up and groaned – nights in the barge of no sleep were taking their effect on her mind. "THAT will most definitely survive the Armada."

The Armada. Deacon.

"The Armada has your friend?"

Deacon.

"Remmy, and everyone else." Destiny pointed to the vandalism of her wall. "That's what we need."

"A fight?"

"No. One of them." Destiny took from her backpack her last memory of Remmy, the mask of an Armada Marine. She placed it on the wall, and the mask fit the outline almost perfectly. "Buy some fuel. I know the way by heart."

"Where?"

"To more parts." Delaney made a quizzical face at Destiny. "Now!" She barked. Delaney nodded and fell back, catching herself before she hit the ground. Destiny slid her backpack to a convenient place and laid her head on it, closing her eyes for an hour's rest.

 
 

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