[Captain Del]

June 15th, 1724
Eastern Boiling Bay, Caribbean Sea
2:09 AM

The crew sat scattered amongst the Sea Dragon, as were their minds, divided by their own goals and greeds. The night was thick, and only an assortment of lanterns that sat on the edge of the boat ever so carefully, acting as daggers as they cut through the light evening mist. Despite the progression of the night, how far down the path it's timeless path went, the crew was still much awake. They could carely contain themselves, holding back such strong feelings.

Below the deck, the knowledge hungry pirate wrote away by candle light, secretly as he swung in his hammack. What he commonly used to write down different break throughs concerning voodoo magic and the mysterious ways of the Caribbean, which he studied ever so advidly, he set aside a page to write down his angers:

Beh! I can't believe this! I come face to face which such, such an awe-striking, majestic weapon.. and I can't event study it! This, this is a mockery of my very being!

He's locked himself away in his quarters ever since we got aboard. I bet right now he's up there, swinging it and slashing it away, practicing, learning it's every move and function, while I cannot even wrap my hands around it. It's such a taunt, isn't it!?

It is only unfair how he can keep such a treasure to himself. He'll have to hand it over sooner than later!

I must go talk with the others concerning this matter.

He lays his journal down and walks down the crew's are, passing an array of beds, cluttered with different personal affects of each one of the crew. As he walks, he passes Grace, the only other below deck, who sat in her hammock, toying around with a few objects that Valentina had given her as a gift. As she sat there, she thought over the warning that the gypsy had so ever instructed her, to remember, that still haunted her by it's unknown meaning:

"There will be blood tonight, my child.. the blood that runs ever so freely shall drip in the same manner.. only you may get in the way.."

From the corner of her eye, she watched as Wisdom walked up the stairs towards the deck. She saw the strange determination in his eyes, it penetrated the entire ship with an aura of danger, of distrust. She absorbed this distrust, and felt the urge to follow him. She tucked a small cloth voodoo doll in under her vest, and quietly made her way off the swinging bed, and up the stairs to the deck.

Meanwhile, a small group of pirates sat huddled on the farthest upper deck of the massive War Frigate. They formed a small circle at the very top of the left staircase, which gave them a perfect perch to view all that went on below them on the deck.

"Erg, that bad? How long will it take to recover." Andrea concerned as she leaned against the rail, carefully balanced between the side of the deck, and on the other a large, daunting drop to the dark ocean waters below. How the mist covered the water acted almost as a shroud, looking like one who fell in were to disappear for all eternity.

"We're not completely sure if he'll make it over not, it took a big chunk out of his arm and leg, it did." Lawrence shook his head at Andrea in dismay. She turned away to look out across the ocean, watching the mist dance in the wind.

Andrew, who stood at the very edge to the staircase, stepped slightly foward to warm up the conversation. "I'm concerned for the Captain. He's been hiding himself in his quarters for hours. I wonder what he's doing..."

Andrea talked over her shoulder, as she stilled watched the sea. "I'm sure it's not that big. It has been a year since we were established, after all. If anything, he's writing down a few last minute coordinates so we can go hunt down some poor fleet of British ships."

"Still...." Andrew turned around to look down at the deck. Off on the bow, Bankok and Firesteel were playing a card game of Blackjack. "He'll never win against Bankok." Andrew thought to himself with a small grin. Suddenly, his eye caught Wisdom, who walked up out of the ship's underbelly like a shadow. He saw the pirate look around both ways, and then quickly hurry himself towards the staircase that led to the second deck, on the opposite side of the ship as them. "Get down!" Andrew whispered to Prince and Melissa, as he pulled them behind a large bunch of crates at the very corner of the third deck. He peered around the side of the box to catch the top of Wisdom's head in his gaze. The pirate looked around once more, and then made his way to the center of the second deck, towards where the door to the Captain's Quarters sat. He gestured them in a hurried motion to follow him, as he made his way towards the staircase.

The small group of pirates walked briskly to the center of the second deck in pursuit of Wisdom, where they met up with Goldgull. She, without a word, joined by their side, as they strutted themselves down the small hallway that led to the Captain's Quarters. As Wisdom reached for the door, Andrew whipped out his pistol, and placed it at the back of Wisdom's head. "What ye think your doing, mate?"

Suddenly, they heard the sound of a gun clicking behind them Andrew turned over his should, while the rest of the group turned around to face Buck and Jack, and the barrel of a large blunderbuss pointed right in their face. "I wouldn't do that, Andrew." Jack warned, who held the blunderbuss.

And there they stood, interlocked in a conflict, a chain of distrust amongst only the closest of friends. The tension was high, almost as thick as the shroud of darkness that covered them at this time of night.

To break the silence, the door to the Quarter's slowly pushed itself open. They all looked inside, yet saw nothing. The usual clutter still covered the room - the papers, the maps, the eccentric treasures, the large wooden furniture. It all was the same. But all it lacked was a Captain.

"GAH!" Came from the back of the group. They looked behind them to find a bleeding Firesteel, a large red pool below his right arm, which splashed as he fell to his knees. Grace's eyes lit up as her eye's met the scene. The gypsy of the island of fire was correct - the blood of a free man had been shed. She ran to him in a healer's impulse, but was stopped short, as a bayonet came within millimeters of her face. On the end of that barrel was a soldier completely dressed in Black, black as the night sky. The group of pirates came out of the hallway in a surrender, and realized they were surrounded on all sides by a huge group of the Black Guard. While they had bickered silently with their eyes, with their actions amongst themselves, a large Warlord of the East India Trading Company had snuck itself up to their side.

Off to their left side, the two soldiers in front of the steps parted, revealing an elegantly decorated man. He was covered head to toe in black cloth, only with the exception of large, silver buttons that bulged out in the night. They held together a large, commanding coat, only overdone by the large, half-circle Admiral's Hat that sat on his small head. He walked foward, revealing a small, laughable face. If not for his extravagant attire, you might have guessed he was nothing more than half of a sailor. "Where is your Captain?" He said in only the most snobby of accents.

The group looked about - no form of their captain in sight. But almost with the black guardsmen's words, the mist grew thicker, much thicker. It became darker as well, was the moon and all it's stars were hidden behind the clouds above. And out of all of this, they saw their Captain - in the most surprising of forms.

The image of only a gold cutlass cut through, attached at the end by a green are of the mist. It cut itself through the sides of two of the Black Guard, who immediately collapsed to the ground. It then lunged toward and thrusted through another of them, before at last he was overwhelmed, and knocked over towards the group of pirates by the bash of a bayonet. The pirate was tossed towards them in such a force it nearly toppled them over, but they managed to catch their no-longer ghostly captain. As they pushed him in a standing position, they again formed a circle, and pulled out their wide away of weaponry. The Guard raised their bayonets ready to fire, but their captain raised his hand to disarm them.

"Mr. Darkskull, you have been requested by Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company to be brought in tow to Port Royal at once, at the request of your services." The man let out regally in the same annoying accent.

"Ah, so he's not going to put me to death? Good to know. But I spit at your request to destroy my freedoms!" Delmaria spat at them.

"Nonsense, Mr. Darkskull. Lord Beckett only requests for your help in defending the town of Port Royal from pillage by the forces of the Undead."

"And what do I have to gain from this?"

"That's negotiable." The captain smiled eeriely.