I have come to realize that the life of an adventurer is a rather dangerous one. With the many perils I have faced, I feel that every fellow in a hood and mask is out to do me harm. And no matter how hard I try to put the dead in undead, my efforts are thwarted. Finally, I have had too many near death, and actual death experiences.

To that end, I have hatched a new scheme. The life of a scalawag pirate is just the opportunity I have been looking for. I can maraud the seas, lay siege to towns, and haul in untold fortunes without ever having to leave the safety and comfort of the main deck.

Alas, the start of my new enterprise meant a trip to the less than savory shores of Penmawr Island. While I enjoy a good bit of drunken revelry and wanton swordsmanship in the streets, these lads have allowed matters to get a little out of hand. It’s gotten to the point where a chap can’t walk about with unprotected sacks of gold without being molested.

But, once I explained I would gladly hand over my coins for a worthy sailing vessel, they embraced me as one of their own.

After brushing off the filth from that embrace, I got down to business with their head man. Or rather, the fellow that had been promoted to head man since the previous head man had been incapacitated the previous night by some vagabond demonstrating their mastery of the drunken rampage skill. I wasn’t aware that was a skill one could actually achieve mastery in, but I suppose the rules are a bit different on the island.

Nevertheless, I explained my intentions and my need for a ship. A fast ship. A fast ship with many cargo holds to store my newly found wealth. I explained I was in no mood for trifles like the longboat or pleasure houseboats. I wanted a vessel of mass devastation. One that would instill fear in all who saw her. One that would command people to give up in abject terror and hurl their coins at me.

They explained if they had such a vessel they would keep it for themselves, but revealed they had a galleon. A unique fixer-upper opportunity that I could have for a very reasonable price. It had recently returned to port after encountering a slight mishap with it’s captain, and they were eager to send it back to sea.

When I inquired as to the nature of the “mishap”, I was informed the details were sketchy, but it somehow involved bad fish chowder, icebergs, and some unstable barrels of combustible powder, not to mention the loss of many barrels of fine whiskey. They wept at the loss of the whiskey.

“But, we are in a tropical area. There are no icebergs available in these parts,” I explained.
“Exactly!” He replied. “That’s what makes it all so mysterious!”

We then sat down to negotiate the terms of the sale.

After much ale, multiple threats, the brandishing of swords, full contact acts of juggling, stern rebukes as to my sea faring prowess, and assurances that by the liberal application of creosote and cinnamon bark, the smells from the lower decks would indeed dissipate, a deal was reached and sacks of gold were exchanged.

Then the head man asked me a question for which I was completely unprepared.

“So, by what pirate name shall ye be known?” He asked.
“Sorry, pirate name?” I replied.
“Oh yes indeed. You need to give yourself a worthy pirate name. No one is going to surrender to PeteWi The Disoriented. And of course your vessel will need to be named something as equally diabolical. And no girly names! Everyone wants to name their ship the “Queen” this, or the “Princess” that. Ships need to have inspiring names that start with “Dirty” this, or “Vengeful” that. Say, you look like you should be captain of the “Vengeful Salamander!”
“Dear me, that is indeed an awe-inspiring name. I came ill-prepared for such matters. I was not aware I would need a new name for myself or the ship,” I confessed.
“No matter,” he said with a missing toothed smile. “We’re here to help. Have a seat. Buy a bottle, or dozen. And we shall come up with a name together.”


Huzzah! I have a new sailing vessel! The pirates drive a hard bargain, but the ship is mine!

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

One Response to It’s the pirate’s life for me!

  • Alley says:

    well, this explains a few things. you do need something distinctive: disoriented by day, disgraceful by night!

    …disagreeable? …discourteous? …dismaying? …disreputable? …disruptive?

    the wrong name could be disastrous!

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