Bobby Flat Foot
Pirate Lord
Posted by Mutineer Ghost on July 13, 2016, 9:45 p.m.
We should have won.
After the mutiny, he promised us so many things... Gold. Weapons. Infamy. How could we turn him down?
Captain Diaz lost his sanity stockpiling those weapons. By the end, it was all he could think about. No matter how rare the metal, or perfect the blade, the Captain’s thirst for weapons was simply unquenchable. It was clear something had to be done. The Lieutenant, of course, made his play. He spoke of untold riches and promised to take Diaz’s blades for ourselves. After months of mindlessly building Diaz’s arsenal and having practically nothing to show for it, of course we agreed. So we mounted a mutiny.
Those still loyal to Diaz and his mission fought valiantly. Each of their dead seemed to take one of ours with them. But our conflict was merely a backdrop to the battle between Diaz and Foulberto -- nothing else mattered. In the end, they would determine our fate.
Our forces fought long and hard. Eventually, we gained the advantage, and Foulberto was fighting with a rage no one in our crew -- or in the Caribbean, for that matter -- had ever seen before. Just as we took the lead, everything seemed to crumble around us. The cave’s entrances collapsed. The weapons scattered. Mutineers and loyalists alike buckled to the ground, gasping for air. How could this happen? Were they insane?
As I lost my balance and fell to the ground, I could still see them sparring in the distance. Even the lack of oxygen could not stop them… Looking around, I could see that every crew member felt only one emotion as they passed from this world to the next... An emotion that would live forever... Rage.
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