*THIS STORY IS NOT APART OF MY OTHER SERIES. IT HAS TO DO WITH AN INTERESTING EVENT THAT OCCURED TO ME IN THE GAME*Abassa, home to many of the saltiest sea dogs that sailed on white water. Every crook from the far reaches of Cuba, to the privateers of the gun-smoked isles of Isla de la Averica and Ille D'Etable de Porc. Even a few of the escaped citizens that escaped the horrors of Raven's Cove made it here, even if they lost most of their sanity in the process.
In this sea, pirates here don't pillage as much as they parley. On the docks of the pirate town of Toruga, hundreds of rouges converse. Some talk of treasure they collected. Others laugh at jokes made by there shipmates. They is a spirit of good nature here among the pirates yet any civilised man would believe it to be chaos. They have good reason to think that.
On the beach is two gangs of pirates each yelling insults at each other.
"A pox on your ship, cur!"
"I'll cut ye like a Sunday feast!"
I usually don't care for the wild sea of Abassa yet I do like to hear the talk of the people. That is how I, captain of the Silver Strider, came to dock in this foul ocean.
As I watched a brawl play out by the docks, a mate dressed in black whispered into me ear, "Are ye with a Company." A younger me would be offeneded for this matter of piratcal betrayal, but in time I learned to accept there concerns.
"Nay," I said bluntly.
"Would the man like to conduct a bit of buisness in the tavern?" he spoke like a true gent.
"I'll go anywhere with rum," I mumbled as I followed him to the docks.
We walked inside the dimly lit tavern and I flipped a coin to a barmaid who handed me a tankard of rum. The man in black took a mug of ale.
"What's ye price to sail with me?" he said with a grin.
Ah a sailing venture, I thought, Pity. I hoped it would be something more.
"Depends to where ya headed," I said as I sipped my rum.
The man chuckled like thunder and replied, "After a man named Leon."
To be continued...