Pirate Game Fan Fiction

 

A Survivor's Word (Part XVI) by D.S. Devereaux

XVI

The living of sharks outside of the skies was a concept that hardly any Skull Islander dabbled in. Delaney pondered it now as she tripped over Fin's tail, trying to find a wall.

“Guys,” Remmy coughed, watching the dust, “GUYS!” When all four pirates stopped moving, Remmy sighed. “If we stop moving, we won't kick dust up, and then it'll settle,” he said. As the dust started to settle indeed, the pirates realized that Ahab, Norville, and Destiny were all gone, and that there was nobody to fight at all.

“Well, then.” Sarah sighed monotonously, “I guess you can't expect a musketeer to show their face, no?” Remmy remembered the masked operation and he laughed shallowly. Sarah put her paws on her hips and looked towards the entrance. Destiny didn't emerge, nor did she poke out from near the rubble. Sarah twitched her nose, and she picked a scent up.

“Hey, I think I smell something. It's near the forest,” Sarah said, speed-walking from the lighthouse, the crew following her. She took a swig of life fountain water, looking towards the gloomy forest, sighing out a bit. If Destiny wasn't there, then the crew would be dangerously low on supplies.

Remmy strode into the forest, not liking the fog nor the smell of the undead's HooDoo infested spirits. He was sure they had a smell in the first place. Remmy watched the ground, looking for footprints and landmarks. He saw something shine behind a shrub, and Remmy picked it up.

“What do you know,” Remmy said, picking the object up and brushing dirt from it, “A rifle.” Remmy inspected it for any defects and shot into a tree. It still worked beautifully. Gazing at the shaft, Remmy read out the name Tiburies, etched in cursive. He caught up to the rest of the group, now using one of Destiny's candles as a torch. Fin, having the toughest skin to the dripping wax, held the candle. When they reached the end of their normal trail, Sarah turned back.

“The scent left a while ago, but I supposed we'd look for a bit more.

Come on, let's go back.” She sighed.

One-eyed Jack tried to keep his mind off of things as he scrubbed the windows day in, day out. He would have a few regular customers step in and order Yum, but none like Destiny and the crowds that followed. His business with the dead-eyed pirate would normally involve night-long games of cards if not hours of chatter between whoever came along.

Normally her following consisted of a small crew that seemed to change every time she came in. It became more obvious to Jack over the years that Destiny just worked with whoever could work with her well for what she was busy doing. For the most part, Destiny had been under the control of Captain Avery's needs. She sought out treasure for herself every so often and earned a nice coin out of it. However, it was when she was teamed with a handful of Monquistan explorers that Jack had sniffed trouble. Destiny probably had it in for her by then, as she got “picked up” by the Armada on her way into Mooshu, as the papers stated later. It wasn't long before she was back and back again, though. Jack looked towards the sunlight filtering through the window, not noticing the ominous shadows that crept through the tavern with only taps from the tips of their boots. Jack turned and drew a small dagger hidden away in his vest. Staring right back at him was a clockwork officer.
Destiny blinked the crust out of her eyes. She knew ship protocol very well, having been a captain. She knew that the bottom of the pack and the Lt. Captain got up early, but just after the captain, who was always busy. Destiny got to her feet and found her footing in the lower bunker. The floor beneath her creaked when she took a step, and Destiny feared waking anybody else. Still, she heard different steps above her. It had been a long time since she had been in such a low position.
“It's wonderful,” Remmy pointed out, pointing Tiburies at a floating rock in the skyway composed mainly of compacted dirt, vegetation, and whatnot. He squinted for good measure and shot once, hitting the clod of dirt in the center, making particles of it scatter in the open air.

Remmy got hit with minimal bits, resulting in Sarah Steele crossing her arms.

“Tiburies, Tiburies,” she sighed, pacing the dock, “I don't have a good feeling about it.”

“Isn't it a she?” Fin grunted, reaching up for a root that floated from the clod of dirt, examining it for edible qualities. He discarded the root and walked back towards the lighthouse. Delaney watched Fin roll his shoulders back and stretch his neck a little with suspicion.

She stood up from a rock in the rubble pile and scrambled up the rocky slope, slipping through the protective tarp over the hole in the wall.

She focused her magic on a stretch of wind, wrapping a cord of mojo around and swinging down to meet Sarah and Remmy.

“Careful!” Sarah cried out, laughing, “I've never seen that before.”

“Destiny would have loved it,” Remmy said, making the receiving faces droop once more.

“Do you think she's alright out there? I mean, I'm sure she can take care of herself,” Delaney pointed out. Fin emerged again, arms crossed.

“She'll be fine; she didn't really need us in the first place,” he noted with a scowl. In turn, Fin received sour faces from the rest of the crew, though a few began showing understanding. In a flutter, the Admiral returned with a note on its leg. Remmy caught it and unfurled the scroll.

“It's the same one,” he grumbled, “Send it again, Midnight.” The Admiral zoomed off towards Flotsam once more.

 
 

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