It was a few hours, but the storm did pass without any further incident. So, we picked up any belongings we absolutely needed, and followed Jackson to his ship. It was actually a short walk to where his ship was docked, and believe me, it was a sight for sore eyes. The ship was masterfully built, with an impressive size; well-kept rigging and sails; and visibly well-armed guns and cannons for combat. Once we all boarded, we gave the ship a closer look whilst Jack took to his Captain's quarters.
The deck was fairly spacious, and was free of clutter. As we gave the cargo hold a look over, we found items from all over Neopia. Codestones, dubloons, scrolls, books, weapons of a great variety; they all were organized rather neatly within the hold, and I was honestly quite surprised that this Captain had been to so very many places. As for Sammy, she couldn't wait to investigate the cannons. Thankfully, Jane had the presence of mind to follow the sooty little blue Zafara, and make sure she didn't steal any powder from the armaments.
Not long after, we all gathered on the deck to wait for our new Captain. It occurred to me that we wouldn't be able to explain this to Scarblade, should we ever meet again, and that our punishment would be brutal. But still, I knew, and I think we all knew that our old Captain was in a place he wouldn't be returning to us from. We were all relieved when Jackson left his quarters; now dressed in khaki jeans, and a plain, skintight black t-shirt. He wasted no time in setting us to our tasks. It was refreshing how well he'd picked up our names in such a short time.
"Beckman," he barked, "I want you to take the helm! Shoemaker, make sure the rigging is sound! Morgan, man the crow's nest! Bermellón, Donnerick, head below deck to make sure we've got firepower in case of an attack!" From our experience on the Revenge, we did not hesitate a moment to assume our tasks. It was exhilarating and refreshing to have jobs to do once again, even if some of us were out of practice to our tasks. It might not end up pretty if we entered a skirmish, with so few of us available.
Luckily, we reached our destination with little incident. It was a tiny spot of sand and jungle, almost midway to Mystery Island from Krawk Island, with a miniscule port town waiting for us. We were lucky that only one other ship was there, for there was only room for two ships to dock. Said ship didn't seem to have been used for months, and as we made our way into town, we could see why. Countless worn-looking pirates were easing their aches and pains, and it was hard to spot a young face in the crowds.
Outside of a gambling joint, Jackson told us to wait. As much as I wanted to try my luck within, there was no telling if Jackson had a more violent side, nor how easy it would be to set him off. So despite how quickly we grew bored, we all waited as patiently as we could for the Spotted Gelert to return. Our Captain did come back fairly quickly, signifying that he had chosen not to play any games of chance; but we didn't know what to think about the red Zafara who followed him, pouting as if her fun had been cut short.
"Crew," Jackson said in his brassy voice, "This is Jolyne Smith, a navigator and artisan. She's an old friend of mine, and I decided to seek her help." We all appraised the girl. Her eyes were a deep gray-blue, and she had light freckles on her cheeks. Jolyne was fit and well-built, in the way of a runner: slim and lean, and built for speed. She wore a button-up white shirt, khaki trousers held by a toolbelt, and leather boots with brass gears decorating them. The red Zafara also wore a glinting gold necklace, and had some kind of golden bangle around her wrist that was engraved with the image of a Petpet I wasn't familiar with. None of us felt like questioning her, so we didn't mind how she spoke first.
Jolyne said in a fiery tone, "You all don't know what you're getting into with 'the Adventurer', here." Wait. That definitely rang a bell. "But, still, I suppose I could use some of your particular brand of excitement, Trelowney." She gave a mischeivous grin up at the Spotted Gelert. "I can rope some guys into helping, given an hour or two. Then, I'll just have to move the maps, tools and such from my old ship into yours. So, an hour or two and a half. Deal?" They shook hands with finality.
We all had questions, but Jackson gave us a look to keep them at bay. "I'll explain once we get back to the ship," he said simply. With that, he whistled a merry tune, and walked towards the docks. I personally wasn't sure I wanted to wait that long.
... ... ...
Back on the ship (which was curiously yet unnamed), Jolyne was quite true to her judgment of the time. In an hour and a half, she'd rounded up a scarred Island Ruki, a Pirate Krawk with a pegleg and a braided beard, and an unhinged-looking yellow Graarl. Their names were, in order, Luther Bandy; Charles Zephyr; and "Sulphur" Pete. In a little under another half-hour, they'd helped Jolyne move all of her maps and tools into a spare room alongside the cargo hold. In that time, our new Captain elaborated on his history.
"They call me the Adventurer," he said with a rather wistful tone. "I've been all over Neopia, and I still intend to explore further. I like to think I'm not a cruel, nor an unsuccessful pirate; so I'm glad my epithet, at least, has reached all of you." It was hard to not know of his famous nickname, having served on the Revenge. Captain Scarblade had regularly spoken of him, saying the Adventurer was making great progress, yet ridiculing him for his aversion to any unnecessary violence. It was odd that Scarblade had any opinion on another pirate Captain, but none of us dared to ask him of it at the time, and it was most likely too late, now.
It wasn't very long at all before we were able to set sail again, after that. Our Captain had Jane go by Jolyne's directions, with Charles and Pete below deck with myself and Al Cid, while Luther stayed up top. For a long while, it seemed that things were going to be quiet on this journey, as it had our last one. That was until the ship bucked on the waves, and Luther shouted down to us that we had an enemy to port. We all moved to man the cannons, but it took a great deal of willpower to not be stunned by Jackson's enraged roars above us. None of us had yet seen him in a bad mood, and he definitely seemed to be taking this attack personally.
After I lit the fuse and fired, I tried to get a look past my cannon to see who was attacking. It took a while for the smoke to clear, and when it did, I almost wished that it hadn't. That giant Shadow Yurble's jovial smile had turned to a murderous grin, as he directed his crew to fire on us. All I could make out as the crew on his ramshackle ship was a Green Mynci woman with an unsettling grin, a Blue Ogrin in a widebrimmed, sagging black hat who seemed half-dead, and a Checkered Kougra dressed in suspenders and carrying a cane.
It was apparent that the lot of them were out for blood, and I was eager to get answers. Yet despite my desire for combat, I knew who was best suited for this out of the four of us below deck. "Al Cid," I shouted over the din of cannonfire, "They need you on deck more than we do on the cannons! Slug that fatass Captain of the enemy ship for me!" Al Cid nodded solemnly, and made his way above deck. As our ships somehow drifted closer, close enough for the crews to meet each other in combat, I got a better look at our foe.
Their ship was a piece of crap, compared to ours. It was not only lacking in any decorations, it was so blocky and slow-looking that it might not have even qualified to be a cargo ship. Yet the cannons were another kettle of fish, entirely: the power of their shots sent up almighty plumes of water into the air, and it was only by our good fortune that we soon got too close for them to safely fire any longer. Had one of those cannons gotten in a good shot, we would be sunk in no time. Seeing that the other two left with me below deck had made their way to ascend, I quickly followed.
Now connected by boarding planks, bobbing ever-so-slightly on the relatively peaceful waters, the two ships had become a battleground. The Mynci woman I saw before had made it to our ship; it took Luther and Charles together, both a flurry of kicks, to keep her swift blows at bay. As I drew my swords, I saw the Checkered Kougra (his glassy, fish-like eyes now more apparent) expertly knocking away every bomb Sammy hurled his way with his cane; as much as that shouldn't have worked, he had yet to gain a scratch on him. It seemed that one of them had left the fray, but in my rush to assist the crew, I didn't notice at the time.
Once I made it to the enemy ship, I looked for Al Cid and the Shadow Yurble Captain. It took very little time; they were atop the apparent Captain's quarters, duking it out. The Yurble had a new tooth missing from his grin and a bloody nose, but Al Cid still fared worse. The immense Cybunny had a shallow, but jagged wound above his left eye, an even bloodier nose, and one of his arms seemed to have gone limp. Not thinking, I drew both of my blades and leapt straight towards the Shadow Yurble with a terrific yell.
As he turned and grinned straight at me, for one of the few times in my life, I felt a spike of fear run my heart through. The enemy Captain's gigantic hand, with its long, iron-strong fingers closed on my throat; just enough to hold me still, hanging above the deck below. He chuckled, eyes glinting. "Well, well, well," he said cheerfully, "I didn't expect ya to have met up with my ol' pal Jack! Too bad. I liked ya, kid." He brought one fist back, and even as I saw Jack appear behind him with some kind of club, there was no stopping the blow coming my way.
The sheer force of that punch was like I had a warship dropped right onto my chest. I could barely tell I was rocketing across the distance between the two ships; it felt as if every last one of my ribs was broken. I then hit our ship's deck, and thankfully, unconsciousness let the pain slowly ebb away.