[Captain Del]

June 14th, 1724
Las Pulgas, Padres Del Fuego
8:30 AM

"Watch yer head!" Delmaria rampantly swung his cutlass in a swift, horizontal motion over Andrew, you ducked to avoid the oncoming blows. The waving and winding blade of the cutlass cut through the skeleton's neck as though it were nothing but a sack of flower. As it's bone's fell to the dusty ground in a dramatic heap, Andrew ran out of the situation, in to the middle of the large circle the ring of pirates had formed, as they fought the onslaught of Undead knaves.

"Thanks for that one..." Andrew panted as he bent over, hands on his knees.

Delmaria continued to look down at the pile now at his feet. As Andrea chopped down the gypsy that she had been fighting against, she looked over her head to comment in. "Not like that was necessary, the bloke is to short to even get hit in the first place!" The crew laughed wildly, as Andrew picked up a hand full of sand and jokingly threw it at Andrea.

"Easy now, mates." Darkskull calmed them. "We have much further to go, if we want to chat up that fellow." He walked foward, in between where Lawrence and Firesteel stood, and marched down the long path before, deserted path before him.

They trudged foward, the hard, dark, sandy floor punding beneath their feet, as the fresh sun shined strongly on their shielded heads, hidden behind large feathered hats, or loosely tied bandanas. Ocassionally they had to hack away at a lowly Undead soldier that crossed their path, but any opposition was taken care of easily.

After barely a few minutes, they came to a small incline, which at the top opened up in to what seemed as a long, wide, yet covered length of ground. "Ssshhh...." they hushed as they eased their way up the small hill. After reavhing the end of the ramp, Prince, at the head of the pack, looked outward, across both ways. Two burly skeletons patrolled back and forth, keeping an eye out for any wayward animal - or human - that they could pounce on, disable, and possibly feast for that evening. There were a few small, disheveled shacks that lined the walls, seeming beaten by the heavy presence of the Undead. Surprisingly, however, a few of them still held their signs proudly, indicating that they once were, or possibly are, places where some-now-gone form of civilization could buy things such as bullets and guns, clothing. But what stood out was at their 10 - a blacksmith. "C'mon!" Lawrence gestured as they quickly slipped past the patrollers, in to the doorway of the blacksmithery.

They walked in to what, amazingly, looked like a blade shop. The walls were still lined by variations of cutlasses, sabres, and broadswords, now rusted by sitting openly in the dank hut for so long. The placed was littered with barrels, crates, buckets, logs of wood - even a broken-down wagon set aside in the corner. And in the thick of the mess, there stood a man, his back still turned to them. He brushed the floor, as if he were pretending the world around him was, that it was unchanged. But he lived within the manifest of pure poverty, of destruction, of confinment. His simple broom only was a metaphor for how he tried to brush the outside world off to the side as if they were nothing. Slowly, he stopped his swepping, and turned towards the motley pirates. The old, balding man, stilled graced in the clothes of a worksmen, smiled at their very presence.

"My my, can it be!?" He walked foward, squinting his eyes as he attempted to focus in, not like the sight would be that much more pleasing to the eye. "Ar-ar-are, are you from the.. t-the outside!?" He stuttered inward, almost like a child anxious to lay eyes on a figure he had lost - a father, pehaps. This mere connection made Delmaria wince in a small amount of emotional disarray. He hook it off and nodded, assuringly to the man. He pretended not to pay much attention, until he looked back closer at the old man. The large, golden sideburns.. the blank, desolate head-top..

"Sven Thorhammer, you might be?" Darkskull tilted his head as he walked closer. "I-I.. I haven't seen you in years!" The old man's face lit up as soon as Delmaria stepped foward, and they immediately lurched their hands foward and gave each other a firm shake of the hand.

"Delmaria Darkskull, you old dog! How ya been, mate!?"

They stood their exchanging stories and laughs about long ago, until they realized they weren't the only people in the room. Delmaria put a hand on Sven's shoulder and introduced him. "Mates, this is Sven Thorhammer, the very man who taught me everything I know bout blades and such!"

"Only the best! Haha, as were you, mate! I remember your training as if it were yesterday, the pure talent, rage that you held in you, it was-" Thorhammer were to continue if not for seeing the new found seriousness on Darkskull's face. "Erm- what ye here for in the first place, mate?"

"I heard your the reason why all these skellies run about this town - be it true?"

Sven turned away and sighed heavily, toying around with a few daggers that sat on a small wooden table. "People from this town have all kinds of stories. Some say it was about how strategic this place is, some say because of some silly old ring that was crafted here, but no, don't be believing them! It is true, they are here, but for my talents and I only!" He laughed as though it were an accomplishment, but he seemed to know it wasn't.

"I guess this has to do with that metal of yours?" Darkskull questioned as he leaned up against the fireplace.

"Ah, you mean what we call 'The Shiny'... a special metal indeed, mate. It's not just rare, not just valuable... it's cursed!"

"How so?"

"I can't even answer that question - ancient voodoo curses, possibly some mutation due to the volcanic lava - but.. well, it has the ability to make its weilder.. well, a little ghosty."

The entire group of pirates backed away, astonished. Except for Wisdom, who stepped foward, interested and hungry for knowledge. "You mean, it can turn whoever uses it.. in to a ghost? But I thought only that sword, that one that that dead fellow once used, could do that."

"You think that El Patron fellow made that thing?! Pha! That mate could practically hold a rod! Every story has its untold heroes, aye? That mate came here, looking to add up to his arsenal.. it was the first time I ever even put that metal to use, I had just found it one day in the mines. Who would have know that it would've become so famous!"

"But.. El Patron came to these islands far before our time... how is it possble that you..." for the first time, Wisdom cut himself short. His head tilted upward to face the old man, who walked over to a small pile of wood. He threw aside a few logs, and from it came - a sword. A golden sword, shining as bright as the day sun itself. Its craftsmenship was amazing, how it's blade curved so majestically, how its handle was so graceful yet sturdy. For some reason, he only held it's handle with a cloth wrapped around it. He waved Delmaria over to him, who slowly walked toward with utter caution. The old man suddenly flipped the sword in the air, and caught it with the same horizontal stance he had held it by it's handle - only this time he held the blade.

"That.. that can't be the sword! It was found by some mate.. a few months ago.. I saw it on Tortuga myself!" Wisdom challenged.

"Bah, that piece of garbage. I only crafted that in a few weeks or so. Overrated, if you ask me. This one.... this one is much better." He turned to face Delmaria. "Take it."

Delmaria's hand slowly made it's way towards the handle. The instant his hand wrapped around it, his body began to shake. A burst of energy, pure power, winded its way out of his body. The pirate captain was scared, and for the first time he let it show. A green mist wavered around his body again - only this time, it was lighter. It was embracing, warming, magical. When the transformation finished, Delmaria looked at himself in a mirror - he saw nothing. Thorhammer instantly hobbled over to the table that he previously stood at, picked up a dagger, and threw it at Darkskull with pure swiftness. Delmaria winced his eyes, awaiting the blow - but instead, he watched as it passed through his glowing body, and perched itself in to the wooden wall. Sven walked back over, and easily took the sword out of Delmaria's hand. He slowly watched as the green glow parted, being filled in with color, solid color and flesh. As Delmaria patted at his body to make sure he was still on Earth, Sven wrapped up the sword in a large tarp and pushed it in to Del's chest. As Darkskull's head picked up in surprise, Sven winked at him. He then saw how old the man really was - he looked ancient, almost, his wrinkles showing out was if giant cracks in the rock wall that was his face.

Without a word, the pirates walked out of the hut, still mistified by what they saw. The last of them was Delmaria, who stopped in the open doorway on his way out. "Thor..." he turned around to, for one last time, face the man he saw as his father figure, the one man who basically taught him all he knew.

Nobody was there.