Hello again, friends.
In case we haven’t met, my name is Wade McCallister, and I have a story to tell.
Last time, I mentioned to you all how difficult my transition to life in the Caribbean was. Many a time I came close to injuring myself. However, it was one particular encounter on Tortuga where I thought I’d meet my end for certain...
Jolly’s forces had found me and battled me into a corner; I was certain I was a goner. I still remember that night as clear as the waters of the Caribbean Sea.
The winds were blowin’ and the warm rain pelted hard against my face. The undead gathered close, swords raised and ready to strike. Blow after blow I parried, dodged, and returned and yet they were hardly fazed. My sword had grown dull from use, and they were enhanced with some strange voodoo. Ever so slowly they pushed me back into a corner, and as the meanest lookin’ one of ‘em all raised his sword to strike… everything froze, suddenly as silent as Davy Jones’ Locker.
The gale died, the rain stopped, and even the bony aberrations in front of me could tell that somethin’ wasn’t right. They lowered their swords and turned around to face the threat behind ‘em, now impossible to ignore with the sheer amount of power radiating off her staff. To this day the memory of her isn’t one that refuses to give me terror, such a look of sheer hatred on ‘er face as she stared through the undead. She raised a wicked looking voodoo staff into the sky, and the deafenin’ silence was broken with a loud crack and flash of blinding light.
When I finally regained my senses, the skeletons were gone, nothing but embers and ashes remaining where they once were. The woman took my hand and introduced herself as Alaina Seastone, offering to give me a place to stay for the night while I recovered. Many hours of discussion went by, and we eventually got to exchanging stories… I was impressed with what she had to say, and before long found myself sticking around just to hear more of her enthralling tales.
It was nearly a year that I stayed by her side, eventually gaining enough respect from her and her guild to earn the title of First Mate. Nine years later aboard this nigh unsinkable vessel, and I still serve her loyally… But the rest of our tales together are for another time.
My story must come to an end here, fellow pillagers. Alaina just rang the bell and let out a shout, so I can only assume we’ve arrived at our destination. To thieving once more!
First Mate of Keepers of the Code