Return of The Saltwater Scourge
The air wreaked with the rancid scent of flesh and smoke. Men trembled on their knees like children awaiting the belt, sweat and tears pouring from their eyes and pores. Other men, the ones holding these poor souls against their will, laughed amongst themselves and rounded up as many findings as they could, as they waited for their next order. They sucked the warehouse dry of every last resource they could find: food, water, weapons, iron, clothing, etc. Amongst the individuals on their marrow-bones, one young man in particular had mustered enough courage to speak, "Those are not yours to take!"
"Is that truly the case boy?", a voice echoed from across the room.
Every last muscle of every body within the wooden building froze, while every last eyeball within every skull motioned to the open door. There stood the silhouette of a man, no, not a man, of a monster whom none ever dared to invoke the wrath of. With a bleeding orange in one hand, he calmly stepped onto the creaky floorboards of the warehouse. Behind him, a woman followed, with an exotic eagle perched upon her shoulder, and an eye-patch adorning her face. The men ransacking the establishment took their places behind each kneeling captive, every single one of them trembling at the sight of the captain of this crew; except the young man who spoke earlier. He, instead, glared at him, with the anger of a thousand raging fires. The captain approached him first, squatting down in front of him, spinning the orange in his fleshy hand, while his iron hand hung menacingly from his knee. The young man realized that the demon who stood in front of him also had the same glare, and regretted ever looking at him that way.
"What is your name, boy?" the captain asked, with a mockingly polite tone.
The boy, regaining his pride, scoffed, "To give you my name would only bring shame to it. I do not fear you, even if you did cheat death itself. You are no longer the tyrant of this island!"
He spat into the beard of the captain, to which the prisoners gasped, while the crewmen (and woman) chuckled under their breath, knowing what would happen next. The captain looked down at the vandalism. With his metal appendage, he wiped the saliva from his proud facial hair.
He smiled as he said,"Boy, you have the mouth of a sailor...but the mind of a fool,"
The boy looked deeper into the eyes of the person he had offended, seeing fire raging like he had never known. As the captain rose, he bit into his orange, the juice spraying and dripping into the air, and all the while, staring down at the prey before him. A second later, the iron hand reached out and gripped the top of the boy's head, compressing down on the skull, slowly. The boy screamed, feeling the piercing cold metal dig into the skin of his head. The captain lifted him by his head, off of the ground, and to his face.
"I'm gonna make you regret every last breath you take. That is a promise I will keep for as long as you keep breathing,"
The boy took one last look into the flaming eyes of the captain, before he was tossed to the crewman behind him, who then chained his wrists in shackles.
"You know where to take him," the captain said.
"Aye, Captain Gangplank.", replied the pirate holding the boy.
The pirate pushed him, forcing him to stumble towards the exit. Forced to his fate, the boy screamed his final words, "You won't prevail for much longer you swine! We ended your reign once! We'll do it again! She'll do it again, just like before!"
The pirate escorting him promptly slapped him across the back of his head, as they disappeared through the opening. Gangplank finished eating his orange, not even pealing it first. He turned back to his captives.
"Unless any of you would like to join that poor unfortunate soul, listen up! Right now, all of you are nothing; nothing but barnacles clinging onto the underbelly of a ruined war ship. However, all that can change. Join my crew, and help me take back this island, and I swear to you, all of you will be seen as kings. If you choose no, well…," he clenched his iron fist, "let's just say that whatever awaits that sorry sod will look like a blessing, compared to what will happen to you,".
A pause stood within the warehouse, until one man yelled, "Aye captain!"
And then another, "Aye captain!"
And another, and another, until finally, every last kneeling soul was exclaiming those two words. Gangplank smirked and turned towards the woman who followed him in.
"Quinn, put these barnacles to work," he muttered.
With that last order, Gangplank made his way back to his ship. Quinn faced the new recruits.
"Alright you ingrates, load the cargo on the ship now! Last one on board gets an eye pecked out by Valor here!"
The bird squawked in compliance. The new members of the crew scurried to their feet and grabbed every box they could, loading it onto the ship.
Meanwhile, Gangplank stood on the quarterdeck, overlooking the dock. He had been spat out by death to do exactly this: retake his island. It had taken him years to get where he was now: a new ship, a new crew, a new beginning. He was confident that he would have his revenge, and he wanted her to know that he was back.
"Boys!" he bellowed, "Once everything is on board, burn this forsaken slab of plywood to the ground! I will leave no trace of Fortune's filth on this island from here on out!"
At this, the veteran pirates exclaimed in delight, while the new ones simply kept quiet, no doubt still fearing for their own skins. Gangplank then descended to the captain's cabin, requiring a much needed retreat from the sea air. Quinn stood on the dock, watching the captain leave the quarterdeck, with a furrowed brow. She was not at ease with this rash decision from Gangplank. So she made her way onto the ship, in front of the captain's cabin door.
Gangplank sat rigidly in his chair, staring intently at the eel which serpentined its way inside the tank adjacent to him. The tank was fastened to its pedestal, so there was no chance of it tipping over, killing the rare beast within it. Then suddenly, his door opened. Apparently he had forgotten to lock it. Quinn stepped in; Valor still perched upon her shoulder. Gangplank partially ignored her as he stood up and walked to his eel tank.
"Quinn, haven't I told you before to knock?" he asked as he sprinkled fish bits into the tank, to which the eel happily, yet ferociously attacked.
"Aye captain, but we both know that you really don't give a damn if I do or not,"
Gangplank chuckled at the remark. Quinn continued.
"However, I do give a damn about your decision to burn the warehouse down. I strongly advise against it. It will give too large of a sign to Fortune that you are back,"
"Good. That's exactly what I want," he replied, turning to face the one eyed woman, "I have waited years for my triumphant return. That wretch took everything from me, and I will not sit idly by as she sits on the pedestal that is rightfully mine! With sword and shot I'll take my island back, and this will let her know that I am back. Burning that building will strike fear into her, knowing that she had failed in sending me from this world. I will not hide anymore. It's time to crash down on this rebellion like the tidal wave we are!"
"At what cost?!" argued Quinn, "You burn that building down, and tell her that you're back, she'll just gather an army against you, a thousand fold greater than yours! You think that this is the right way, when really you are just rushing a victory that is not anywhere near within your grasp. You must have more patience Gangplank..."
"Do I look like a patient man?" he questioned, glaring at her.
Quinn saw the anger in his eyes and understood how he felt. However, she knew that if they burned down that building, it would be detrimental to their goal.
"I just don't want Bilgewater to lose it's rightful leader again..." she said with a firm passion.
The anger faded from Gangplank's eyes, as he stood there, quietly, listening to his new first mate.
"When I had learned of your downfall, I knew that nothing would be the same. The island would never be able to regain the order it once had. And it shows. Fortune cannot control the people. She does not have the iron fist that you did. But you came back to us. You are here to reclaim this island, and take back your rightful place. However, we are still not strong enough yet. We need more time to prepare. I don't want you to lose sight of what matters here. You came back strong, but we need to make you stronger. I did not help you rebuild your crew, just to watch it all burn again. Don't let her know you are back just yet. The time will come, but it's not now,"
Gangplank pondered her words for a moment, slowly realizing that she was correct. It felt strange to listen to another person's opinion, and actually feeling like it mattered. He looked over to his eel, which was coughing and gagging, biting off more than it could chew. He turned his eyes back to Quinn, who looked back at him with a passionate, yet furious, eye. Realizing the logic in her reasoning, the captain sighed.
"Very well. Tell the men to belay that last order. Just load up the cargo and we'll be on our way,"
Quinn gave a soft smile, nodded her head, and left the cabin. Gangplank turned back to his eel, and watched as it spat out the large chunk of chum, and began to take tiny nibbles at it.