1st Voyage: Malice Awaits
Sea salt was in the air, waves crashed onto the ship's stern without cease, and the sky darkened. The hair stood on the back of the men's necks, knowing all too well the bloodshed they would meet as they neared the British navy ship.
Jolly Roger hoisted high and proud, the pirate ship of the infamous Captain Cecil "Light Foot" Thomas, former Navy man himself, made it's way closer and closer, further raising the fear and excitement in the hearts of the crew manning the ship; this was to be their finest, most brutal battle. A fight to set in stone whether they shall be remembered in infamy, being gods among pirates, or to be remembered as yet another ember, building enough heat to become an all-consuming fire, snuffed by the mighty force of the British navy.
Salvatore Valtieri, an italian born man was amidst the dense crew of british pirates, being the odd man out. However, at the age of 23, he fit well among these men in age, as well as most other pirates. He stood tall and bold with his pistol readied, and his left hand on the hilt of his rapier. Within a few minutes, he will be boarding the enemy ship, fighting for his life and glory in the fray made of everlasting mettle and vile intention, most likely to be stopped by life stealing blade of a man swifter than he, or to be blindsided by a cowardly opportunist. Either thought chilled his very core, cursing ever having thought of such outcomes.
Suddenly, a scream rang clear to all men onboard, ordering them to be at the ready. This was the moment they had all be awaiting.
Men frantically ran into position, manning cannons, readying themselves for battle, praying for their lives, cursing themselves for ever having thought of entering such a life, until there it was: vicious, loud, and ominous, lightning and thunder filled the sky and all that surrounds them, lighting the ships and waters, as if to mark the beginning of their monumental struggle for glory.
The first cannon had been fired.
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