I apologize for the recent delays in my chapter-uppage. I don't have much
to say today, so, here goes.
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The Navis Fugacis sailed smoothly through the open water of the Caribbean Sea. The white masts rippled in the wind, the British flag whistled as it flapped wildly, and the spar pointed north. Jack Sparrow stood at the wheel, not doing an awful lot with it, as they were cruising through open water.
The sound of cutlasses chinking together was music to Aragorn's ears, for it reminded him of the Middle-earth that he belonged to. He frequently drew his own sword and practiced thrusting, cutting, and blocking with it, though not against other people's swords; they would most definitely break. Instead, Will Turner would take a cannon ramrod and help Aragorn. Will turned out to be an excellent swordsman.
Elizabeth Swann spent most of her time in the cabin or crow's nest, depending on where there were no pirates at that time. If there were pirates at both, she would take refuge with Jack. She did not like the way that the prisoners looked at her. Almost hungrily, it was.
Nothing of interest to their cause happened until two days out to sea. Sickle, the lizard-like man, was keeping a lookout on the mast of the ship, when he suddenly called out to Jack that there was a ship approaching from the starboard side. Jack left the wheel for a moment to look out. There was indeed a ship approaching. It was not a British ship – it looked evil. It was flying a Jolly Roger flag, and carried about twice their firepower.
"It's Donovan," said Jack.
"Who?" asked Aragorn.
"Donovan," repeated Jack. "Donovan Machiavel. The worst man, but best pirate, you'll ever find sailing these waters. Or any waters for that matter."
"He won't attack us though," said Aragorn. "I mean, we're pirates as well."
"It doesn't matter what they are, as long as they've got less firepower than he does," said Jack, "he'll attack them anyway. Besides, we're all dressed up here like Britons, they'll hold a bit more of a grudge for that. No, we're in danger here, unless I can show him it's me."
"You? What would that matter?"
"I'm one of his best mates. I've helped him out of a lot of trouble. Unless he's lost all sense of honour completely, he won't attack me. I'm taking one of the boats and going to talk with him."
"Who will take the wheel?"
"Elizabeth will. Elizabeth! Can you come and take the wheel for me, darling? Thanks very much."
When Elizabeth came and took over command of the wooden steering wheel, Jack walked down the staircase onto the main deck. He stopped Aragorn, and said to him, "Aragorn, keep a sharp eye over Liz for me, alright? Crew's a bit – ahem, partial – to her, savvy?"
"I will," answered Aragorn valiantly.
"Good," said Jack. "I'll be back before you can say...discombobulation. Alright?"
Aragorn nodded his head, disturbing his long, dark hair. Jack swaggered over to the side of the ship where a lifeboat lay, ready to be taken. He boarded the boat and a couple of crewmembers slowly and gently let it down to the salty water.
Jack placed his oars in the water and rowed, watching the Navis Fugacis get further and further away. He looked behind him every few moments to see how close he was to the Fell Strike, Donovan's ship.
After five minutes of rowing, he came up to he side of the ship. It was coated with peeling, black paint. The spar at the bow of the ship had a deadly selection of razor sharp blades on the bottom. The words 'The Fell Strike' were painted near the top of the hull in red paint which seemed to have run when painted on. It horribly resembled blood.
Jack suddenly looked up. Four pirates were looking down at him, pointing aimed pistols.
"Fire!" squawked one. Four round bullets slammed into the wood of the boat and either lodged there or went straight through.
"Hang on, I'm a guest here!" shouted Jack. They loaded their pistols and fired off another volley. Water began to seep in the bottom of the boat. Jack fired his own pistol and blew the hat off the leader.
"Look, perhaps we started off on the wrong foot," said Jack. "Whoops," he added stupidly, noting the leader's wooden excuse for a left leg. "Sorry, my mistake!"
"Shoot him, men," said the leader angrily.
"Hey, hey, don't put your foot in your mouth. Damn! Sorry! Sorry about - oh dear God."
A couple of the pirates had just wheeled a cannon over. They were proceeding to load a cannonball into it and dump some powder in. Then they aimed the cannon downwards. Jack jumped onto the plank across the boat, as water had begun to go through his boots.
"Come on, we can all be friends!" Jack said.
It was the wrong thing to say. The pirates fired the cannon off. The cannonball blasted most of the small boat to shards. The oars broke asunder and flew everywhere, the anchor sank, and pieces of the boat scattered. The pirates on the ship hooted and cheered.
Now you're probably wondering what became of Jack in this mess? Well, here's what happened. The cannonball struck near the bow of the boat, and Jack was standing near the stern. The impact catapulted Jack in the air, sending him over the railing and landing on the deck with a thud.
"Ouch," he grunted.
The hammer of a gun cocked behind his head. He rolled over onto his back and stared down the barrel of a loaded pistol, being held by a lanky man with slitlike nostrils. He had one brown eye and one green, and long, black hair. He looked like he enjoyed his job very much.
"Morning," said Jack pleasantly and smiled hopefully. "Nice day, isn't it?"
The pirate thrust the pistol forward an inch in warning. Jack eyed it warily, and plugged the end of the barrel with his finger. "Dangerous weapon, that," he noted.
"Give me one good reason to shoot you, I'll shoot you," hissed the man. "Give me one good reason not to shoot you, I'll still shoot you. Keep your mouth shut, we'll think of somethings else."
"What've you got there, Snaiyk?" said a gruff voice from behind the man. He turned and said, "Prisoner, Captain. From the British ship over there. Tried to sneak aboard, but we caught 'im. We'll have him dealt with, don't worry, Captain Machiavel, sir."
"Machiavel?" said Jack in surprise. "Donovan Machiavel?"
"You've no right to say 'is name," Snaiyk hissed back.
"Oi, Don! It's me, your old mucker!" said Jack. "Captain Jack!"
A man with a rough but handsome face pushed past Snaiyk to get a better look.
"Sparrow?" he said in astonishment.
"The one and only," said Jack.
"Let him stand, Snaiyk!" barked Machiavel. Snaiyk hastened to uncock the pistol and step back. Jack got to his feet immediately.
"Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service, sir," said Jack.
"Well, well, well," said Machiavel. "So it's true: you escaped the noose?"
"Apparently," answered Jack. "Here I am, alive and fresh as...fresh fruit."
Machiavel laughed a deep, evil sort of laugh. Jack recognized it as friendly, though, and not hostile.
"Welcome aboard the Fell Strike," said Machiavel, patting Jack on the shoulder.
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Jack's on a ship of brutal pirates??? Dun-dun-DUN! What will happen next? You'll find out soon, I promise.
---------
The Navis Fugacis sailed smoothly through the open water of the Caribbean Sea. The white masts rippled in the wind, the British flag whistled as it flapped wildly, and the spar pointed north. Jack Sparrow stood at the wheel, not doing an awful lot with it, as they were cruising through open water.
The sound of cutlasses chinking together was music to Aragorn's ears, for it reminded him of the Middle-earth that he belonged to. He frequently drew his own sword and practiced thrusting, cutting, and blocking with it, though not against other people's swords; they would most definitely break. Instead, Will Turner would take a cannon ramrod and help Aragorn. Will turned out to be an excellent swordsman.
Elizabeth Swann spent most of her time in the cabin or crow's nest, depending on where there were no pirates at that time. If there were pirates at both, she would take refuge with Jack. She did not like the way that the prisoners looked at her. Almost hungrily, it was.
Nothing of interest to their cause happened until two days out to sea. Sickle, the lizard-like man, was keeping a lookout on the mast of the ship, when he suddenly called out to Jack that there was a ship approaching from the starboard side. Jack left the wheel for a moment to look out. There was indeed a ship approaching. It was not a British ship – it looked evil. It was flying a Jolly Roger flag, and carried about twice their firepower.
"It's Donovan," said Jack.
"Who?" asked Aragorn.
"Donovan," repeated Jack. "Donovan Machiavel. The worst man, but best pirate, you'll ever find sailing these waters. Or any waters for that matter."
"He won't attack us though," said Aragorn. "I mean, we're pirates as well."
"It doesn't matter what they are, as long as they've got less firepower than he does," said Jack, "he'll attack them anyway. Besides, we're all dressed up here like Britons, they'll hold a bit more of a grudge for that. No, we're in danger here, unless I can show him it's me."
"You? What would that matter?"
"I'm one of his best mates. I've helped him out of a lot of trouble. Unless he's lost all sense of honour completely, he won't attack me. I'm taking one of the boats and going to talk with him."
"Who will take the wheel?"
"Elizabeth will. Elizabeth! Can you come and take the wheel for me, darling? Thanks very much."
When Elizabeth came and took over command of the wooden steering wheel, Jack walked down the staircase onto the main deck. He stopped Aragorn, and said to him, "Aragorn, keep a sharp eye over Liz for me, alright? Crew's a bit – ahem, partial – to her, savvy?"
"I will," answered Aragorn valiantly.
"Good," said Jack. "I'll be back before you can say...discombobulation. Alright?"
Aragorn nodded his head, disturbing his long, dark hair. Jack swaggered over to the side of the ship where a lifeboat lay, ready to be taken. He boarded the boat and a couple of crewmembers slowly and gently let it down to the salty water.
Jack placed his oars in the water and rowed, watching the Navis Fugacis get further and further away. He looked behind him every few moments to see how close he was to the Fell Strike, Donovan's ship.
After five minutes of rowing, he came up to he side of the ship. It was coated with peeling, black paint. The spar at the bow of the ship had a deadly selection of razor sharp blades on the bottom. The words 'The Fell Strike' were painted near the top of the hull in red paint which seemed to have run when painted on. It horribly resembled blood.
Jack suddenly looked up. Four pirates were looking down at him, pointing aimed pistols.
"Fire!" squawked one. Four round bullets slammed into the wood of the boat and either lodged there or went straight through.
"Hang on, I'm a guest here!" shouted Jack. They loaded their pistols and fired off another volley. Water began to seep in the bottom of the boat. Jack fired his own pistol and blew the hat off the leader.
"Look, perhaps we started off on the wrong foot," said Jack. "Whoops," he added stupidly, noting the leader's wooden excuse for a left leg. "Sorry, my mistake!"
"Shoot him, men," said the leader angrily.
"Hey, hey, don't put your foot in your mouth. Damn! Sorry! Sorry about - oh dear God."
A couple of the pirates had just wheeled a cannon over. They were proceeding to load a cannonball into it and dump some powder in. Then they aimed the cannon downwards. Jack jumped onto the plank across the boat, as water had begun to go through his boots.
"Come on, we can all be friends!" Jack said.
It was the wrong thing to say. The pirates fired the cannon off. The cannonball blasted most of the small boat to shards. The oars broke asunder and flew everywhere, the anchor sank, and pieces of the boat scattered. The pirates on the ship hooted and cheered.
Now you're probably wondering what became of Jack in this mess? Well, here's what happened. The cannonball struck near the bow of the boat, and Jack was standing near the stern. The impact catapulted Jack in the air, sending him over the railing and landing on the deck with a thud.
"Ouch," he grunted.
The hammer of a gun cocked behind his head. He rolled over onto his back and stared down the barrel of a loaded pistol, being held by a lanky man with slitlike nostrils. He had one brown eye and one green, and long, black hair. He looked like he enjoyed his job very much.
"Morning," said Jack pleasantly and smiled hopefully. "Nice day, isn't it?"
The pirate thrust the pistol forward an inch in warning. Jack eyed it warily, and plugged the end of the barrel with his finger. "Dangerous weapon, that," he noted.
"Give me one good reason to shoot you, I'll shoot you," hissed the man. "Give me one good reason not to shoot you, I'll still shoot you. Keep your mouth shut, we'll think of somethings else."
"What've you got there, Snaiyk?" said a gruff voice from behind the man. He turned and said, "Prisoner, Captain. From the British ship over there. Tried to sneak aboard, but we caught 'im. We'll have him dealt with, don't worry, Captain Machiavel, sir."
"Machiavel?" said Jack in surprise. "Donovan Machiavel?"
"You've no right to say 'is name," Snaiyk hissed back.
"Oi, Don! It's me, your old mucker!" said Jack. "Captain Jack!"
A man with a rough but handsome face pushed past Snaiyk to get a better look.
"Sparrow?" he said in astonishment.
"The one and only," said Jack.
"Let him stand, Snaiyk!" barked Machiavel. Snaiyk hastened to uncock the pistol and step back. Jack got to his feet immediately.
"Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service, sir," said Jack.
"Well, well, well," said Machiavel. "So it's true: you escaped the noose?"
"Apparently," answered Jack. "Here I am, alive and fresh as...fresh fruit."
Machiavel laughed a deep, evil sort of laugh. Jack recognized it as friendly, though, and not hostile.
"Welcome aboard the Fell Strike," said Machiavel, patting Jack on the shoulder.
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Jack's on a ship of brutal pirates??? Dun-dun-DUN! What will happen next? You'll find out soon, I promise.