Warnings: Poor Duo has a gambling addiction and, as of chapter 16, it still remains to be seen whether or not he will only gamble away... *things.*

Prologue

The first time I ever heard about Mr. Sawdown or Froog's Island was on the Bahamas. I was playing cards - and losing terribly... but that's rather beside the point. Much more to the point is that it was there that I came across my old friend Jack, who was like most of my friends quite fond of rum and more than a little scatterbrained, but loved to regal his friends (and anyone else who didn't get away fast enough) with fantastic stories about the hidden treasures of the sea and the less hidden treasures of the ladies he had courted when he'd been young and daring... and still in the possession of his teeth. With his stories tending to be outrageous at best and pure invention at worst, I didn't really pay a lot of attention when one of his tales eventually segued into the story of Mr. Sawdown, his boundless wealth and his beautiful daughter... although today I must admit that maybe—maybe I should have had. It's just that, way back then, I'd never have imagined that I'd meet the man and find his gold and I certainly didn't expect to steal the exotic beauty he kept hidden in his house.

But before you read on, my dear reader, let's make our introductions! I'm Duo Maxwell, adventurer, thief and libertine and yes, some people might even call me a pirate. Since I'm the main character of this tale and our acquaintance might last for a while, I should probably tell you a little more about myself. I'm witty and clever and, well, pretty handsome in case you were wondering, but unfortunately also exceedingly unlucky... especially when it comes to cards. That last bit I put down to the time when I was seventeen and foretold by a gypsy that I was doomed to lose everything I'd ever win or steal or somehow get my hands on because of my gambling ways and so far the gypsy had been all too right— I never managed to hold onto a penny.

So after I had left the Bahamas, I fell to travelling again, sailing South to hunt for fabled treasures, going East to solve some ancient riddles, and dropping by the royal courts of Europe to get entangled in one or two love affairs. It was only when I'd frittered away the few coins left of my last adventure that I remembered the unlikely tale of my friend Jack... I had never been able to resist an adventure least of all such a promising one (and was quite honestly too broke to be very picky), so I asked around and eventually found a ship that could bring me to the tiny island where Mr. Sawdown was said to run his inn. Come autumn I said my goodbyes to the cool and foggy shores of Northern Europe and was well on my way to the misty tropical coast of Froog's Island...

I made some fast friends in the course of this journey, equally strapped for cash as I was and just as eager to set out on a new adventure. There was the captain of the ship I'd signed up on, a deceptively quiet man called Trowa who was in the pirate business himself. His brownish bangs concealed the gruesome empty vessel of his right eye, which he'd supposedly lost in a wrestling match with a sawfish, but that is another story. His first mate was called Quatre and had once been the legitimate heir of a vast desert kingdom until he fell victim to a court intrigue that not only forced him into a life of piracy but also left him with an oddly twitching face. The two of them were friends with a striking man named Wufei, who had made a name for himself in the faraway countries of the East and was rather famous for his twisted sense of justice.

Thus I had found a small group of fellow adventurers when we finally reached the island, one cold stormy evening at the beginning of October. As we walked along the docks towards the small settlement nestled into the harbour's bay, heavy rain pouring down on us and glaring flashes of lightning piercing the rainclouds over our heads, we still expected this adventure to be nothing but smooth sailing... We'd find Mr. Sawdown, which shouldn't have been very difficult considering his marvellous wealth, find a way to steal his gold and off we'd go back over the Atlantic Ocean.

Smooth sailing.

Until we found that we had traversed the small but lively settlement twice without coming across Mr. Sawdow's famous inn.

To the best of my recollection my friend Jack had been rather vague about the exact location of the place but went to some lengths to draw a vivid picture of the lovely barmaids distributing the first-rate sugar-cane rum of Sawdown's private distillery. Still, there was no way we could have overlooked the inn. Shuffling our feet in the cold rain, we peered around the unlit houses.

Then another flash of lightning briefly illuminated the night and Quatre spied a fading iron sign dangling from a tall, windswept structure in the darkness of a narrow alley.

"I think… it's over there," he said and added hesitantly: "Appears to be old, doesn't it?"

We peered into the night.

"I don't see anything…"

"I think it's there... Let's wait for lightning."

So we waited. Sure enough, the next flash lit up the night and we all saw it— the Sailor's Inn or what was left of it.

Mr. Sawdown's famous establishment was a multi-storeyed rickety wooden construction with a dishevelled palm leaf roof. It certainly didn't look like a wealthy man's business. To be honest, it didn't even look very inhabited.

Alas, we had a mission to accomplish.