Hooray! They escaped! Don't worry, you'll see more of the bad guys. It's
not going to get boring from here. Thanks pIPPINpIRATE, reviews (good ones)
always help!
And, yes, I've finished Part 1 now, as I said last chapter.
-------------
Part 2
Dark sails flew in the wind and the Jolly Roger sailed high above, atop the mast. The peeling black-painted wood on the side of the hull glistened with seawater. 'The Fell Strike' cut through the water of the open ocean with ease, like a hot knife through butter.
And at the top of the mast, in the small crow's nest, stood a man. A sinister and despicable man, a foul and evil man, a filthy rich man. This was Donovan Machiavel, the most terrifying and ferocious pirate in the world. He was rich for the simple reason that he had sacked and looted more towns than any other pirate in history. His cutlass was famous for its deadly throat-slash, and his pistol was famous for its shot-between-the- eyes. His right eye was patched, but this scarcely made him less capable of great damage in battle.
Donovan, sad to say, was a great friend of Jack Sparrow. He wondered what had become of the Good Pirate (as Jack was known to pirates then) since he was sentenced to hanging. Donovan had heard talk that he had escaped, and no rumours were spread to contradict this, so he was led to believe Captain Jack Sparrow was still out there.
The two had a rather different way of running their crews. Jack did so more with humour than anything else. But Donovan was a true believer that fear was the greatest power, not kindness. His men carried out their orders through terror of flogging, the plank, flagellation, flaying, thumbscrews, and Donovanian Suspension. The perpetrator was hung by his ankles over the side of the ship and left there for a certain amount of time, depending on the crime. This was one of Donovan's personal inventions, and he enjoyed doing it very much. As you can see, he was a terrible man.
His ship was faster than any ship of the Fleet, with double the firepower of most. The underside of the spar on the bow was armed with large blades for this purpose: if engaged closely with an enemy vessel, a rope could be pulled to lift the spar up, and then let go, and the blade would cleave into the enemy's ship. He had crafted a 'Ship Grenade', a simple grenade with spikes jutting out of it, so that it would be lodged in the enemy ship when thrown, until the fuse ran down.
Donovan Machiavel was truly a master and genius of naval warfare.
Soon this would be put to good use.
"Captain!" cried a voice from below. "Captain Machiavel!"
Donovan turned his scarred but handsome face down to the deck. The man who had called him was at the wheel, motioning him to come down.
"What is it, Lieutenant?" he barked in answer.
"Could you come down here, for a moment, sir? You should see something!"
Without answer, Donovan took hold of the coil of rope sitting in the crow's nest and threw the end down to the deck, tying the other end of the rope to the mast. Then he grasped the rope and slid smoothly down to the deck, in between the toiling crewmen. He walked magnificently, his jewels and necklaces glittering in the sun of the Caribbean. He went up the wooden staircase to the wheel.
"This had better be important, Lieutenant Snaiyk," the captain said dangerously.
"Be very important, Captain," Snaiyk answered. Lieutenant Snaiyk was a weaselly man with long, black, wiry hair and a greasy, oily nature towards Donovan. His right eye was hazel and his left was a bilious green.
"There be a British ship comin' up on the port, from the stern. It looks not very powerful, but it's pretty damn fast."
"Hang on," said Donovan, walking to the stern. He produced a brazen gold spyglass and made a swift movement with his hand, so that it came to full length. He put it to his eye and scanned the horizon. His vision fell upon a masterly ship with white sails, bearing a British flag. It had few cannons, but was slim and long, and came with great speed through the ocean.
"We can take them," said Donovan. "We've got twice their firepower, our ship grenades, and the Bladespar. I'm quite willing to test that out, I assure you."
"What suggest you, sir?" asked Snaiyk.
"Turn us around," said Donovan. "We're going after it. There's nothing to it. We should take it down in a couple of minutes."
And so they did. They turned and sailed towards the British vessel, named 'The Dart', and challenged it. Donovan put his mouth to a bronze horn mounted on the railing of the ship and blew a long, rumbling sound from it. British trumpets sounded from their assailant.
"Load the cannons and man them!" Donovan shouted to the deck. "Ready the ship grenades! Prepare the Bladespar!"
All these things were done quickly. Each pair of pirates manning each cannon slid a cannonball into their muzzle and piled ship grenades and extra cannonballs beside them.
"No quarter!" roared Donovan as the two ships slowed, side by side. "Fire!"
The same order was issued from the British ship. Each of the cannons positioned to attack was fired. Several of Donovan's missed, for The Dart did not have a deep hull. Most of the British cannons struck the Fell Strike with great power.
"Ship grenades!" commanded Donovan, and lit one himself and threw it. As soon as it hit the deck of The Dart it was lodged in the wood. When it exploded, it blasted a great hole. The pairs of cannoneers did the same, and soon The Dart was covered in ship grenades. The next second, The Dart was no longer a ship, so much as a mass of broken wood and sinking cannons and cannonballs.
"Well fought, men!" said Donovan triumphantly, as he returned to the mast. "Repair whatever is possible!" he said before climbing the rungs on the mast and clambering back into the crow's nest.
He watched as the last remnants of his latest (in two ways) enemy sunk to the bottom of the sea, or else drifted off to the open ocean.
Donovan Machiavel had never lost a sea-battle in his life, and remained certain that he never would.
--------------
Ooooooh! That evil Donovan is...well, evil! Nasty bugger. Sorry about the brief delay in getting this chapter up.
And, yes, I've finished Part 1 now, as I said last chapter.
-------------
Part 2
Dark sails flew in the wind and the Jolly Roger sailed high above, atop the mast. The peeling black-painted wood on the side of the hull glistened with seawater. 'The Fell Strike' cut through the water of the open ocean with ease, like a hot knife through butter.
And at the top of the mast, in the small crow's nest, stood a man. A sinister and despicable man, a foul and evil man, a filthy rich man. This was Donovan Machiavel, the most terrifying and ferocious pirate in the world. He was rich for the simple reason that he had sacked and looted more towns than any other pirate in history. His cutlass was famous for its deadly throat-slash, and his pistol was famous for its shot-between-the- eyes. His right eye was patched, but this scarcely made him less capable of great damage in battle.
Donovan, sad to say, was a great friend of Jack Sparrow. He wondered what had become of the Good Pirate (as Jack was known to pirates then) since he was sentenced to hanging. Donovan had heard talk that he had escaped, and no rumours were spread to contradict this, so he was led to believe Captain Jack Sparrow was still out there.
The two had a rather different way of running their crews. Jack did so more with humour than anything else. But Donovan was a true believer that fear was the greatest power, not kindness. His men carried out their orders through terror of flogging, the plank, flagellation, flaying, thumbscrews, and Donovanian Suspension. The perpetrator was hung by his ankles over the side of the ship and left there for a certain amount of time, depending on the crime. This was one of Donovan's personal inventions, and he enjoyed doing it very much. As you can see, he was a terrible man.
His ship was faster than any ship of the Fleet, with double the firepower of most. The underside of the spar on the bow was armed with large blades for this purpose: if engaged closely with an enemy vessel, a rope could be pulled to lift the spar up, and then let go, and the blade would cleave into the enemy's ship. He had crafted a 'Ship Grenade', a simple grenade with spikes jutting out of it, so that it would be lodged in the enemy ship when thrown, until the fuse ran down.
Donovan Machiavel was truly a master and genius of naval warfare.
Soon this would be put to good use.
"Captain!" cried a voice from below. "Captain Machiavel!"
Donovan turned his scarred but handsome face down to the deck. The man who had called him was at the wheel, motioning him to come down.
"What is it, Lieutenant?" he barked in answer.
"Could you come down here, for a moment, sir? You should see something!"
Without answer, Donovan took hold of the coil of rope sitting in the crow's nest and threw the end down to the deck, tying the other end of the rope to the mast. Then he grasped the rope and slid smoothly down to the deck, in between the toiling crewmen. He walked magnificently, his jewels and necklaces glittering in the sun of the Caribbean. He went up the wooden staircase to the wheel.
"This had better be important, Lieutenant Snaiyk," the captain said dangerously.
"Be very important, Captain," Snaiyk answered. Lieutenant Snaiyk was a weaselly man with long, black, wiry hair and a greasy, oily nature towards Donovan. His right eye was hazel and his left was a bilious green.
"There be a British ship comin' up on the port, from the stern. It looks not very powerful, but it's pretty damn fast."
"Hang on," said Donovan, walking to the stern. He produced a brazen gold spyglass and made a swift movement with his hand, so that it came to full length. He put it to his eye and scanned the horizon. His vision fell upon a masterly ship with white sails, bearing a British flag. It had few cannons, but was slim and long, and came with great speed through the ocean.
"We can take them," said Donovan. "We've got twice their firepower, our ship grenades, and the Bladespar. I'm quite willing to test that out, I assure you."
"What suggest you, sir?" asked Snaiyk.
"Turn us around," said Donovan. "We're going after it. There's nothing to it. We should take it down in a couple of minutes."
And so they did. They turned and sailed towards the British vessel, named 'The Dart', and challenged it. Donovan put his mouth to a bronze horn mounted on the railing of the ship and blew a long, rumbling sound from it. British trumpets sounded from their assailant.
"Load the cannons and man them!" Donovan shouted to the deck. "Ready the ship grenades! Prepare the Bladespar!"
All these things were done quickly. Each pair of pirates manning each cannon slid a cannonball into their muzzle and piled ship grenades and extra cannonballs beside them.
"No quarter!" roared Donovan as the two ships slowed, side by side. "Fire!"
The same order was issued from the British ship. Each of the cannons positioned to attack was fired. Several of Donovan's missed, for The Dart did not have a deep hull. Most of the British cannons struck the Fell Strike with great power.
"Ship grenades!" commanded Donovan, and lit one himself and threw it. As soon as it hit the deck of The Dart it was lodged in the wood. When it exploded, it blasted a great hole. The pairs of cannoneers did the same, and soon The Dart was covered in ship grenades. The next second, The Dart was no longer a ship, so much as a mass of broken wood and sinking cannons and cannonballs.
"Well fought, men!" said Donovan triumphantly, as he returned to the mast. "Repair whatever is possible!" he said before climbing the rungs on the mast and clambering back into the crow's nest.
He watched as the last remnants of his latest (in two ways) enemy sunk to the bottom of the sea, or else drifted off to the open ocean.
Donovan Machiavel had never lost a sea-battle in his life, and remained certain that he never would.
--------------
Ooooooh! That evil Donovan is...well, evil! Nasty bugger. Sorry about the brief delay in getting this chapter up.