Avast, ye who sleep at night!

[Josiah Bones]

Bones.

The name rang through his mind as his eyes wandered from street to street. The rain, pouring in torrents, lashed mercilessly against his water-logged clothes as the slivers of rain dripped beadily from his grizzled face.

Years he had been on the water, decades he had spent fighting the privateers and corsairs for loot and plunder. Vanished, all vanished in ONE night under the flag of the Imperial Navy. Had he a choice, he would’ve rather drowned, but instead, here he was, walking on some godforsaken port in a city he did not recognize.

How long had he been out at sea? His eyes wandered to the hilt of his blade before traveling through the shadows of the night. Too long. He could not remember.

All he could remember, was that night in Winter… not nearly four months ago.

“Cap’n!” A voice shook him from the wheel, “Hard to starboar, the rudders runnin’ a shank right ta port.”

“Aye.” He had replied, turning the wheel as hard as he could. The gale was picking up and the looming clouds, lit by the luminous bolts of lightning, sent an eerie message as he flexed his muscles. He was going to win this battle against the storm. “Handsomely now men!” He roared above his voice, “Avast the sealegs of the wind and join me! Turn ye scallywags, ye scurvy dogs of men!”

A loud roar greeted him, “Turn!” he roared, “Turn!” they chanted as they began scurrying across the decks. “Release the belayin’ pins men!” He cried as his crew ran across deck releasing the large wooden pegs that allowed the folds of the sails to flourish under the strength of the gusts.

The first mate, a burlesque man with crudely cut brown hair approached from behind, “Avast Cap’n!” He roared above the wind, “The chase ‘as full sails in ‘er winds, but the shoals to ‘er right will force em port side.”

He remembered nodding, giving full instructions, peppering them as quick as they formed in his mind. “Aye, full sails aft starboard. Belay the guns and drain the bilge, force the pins in the bowsprit and run the ready.” The first mate nodded quickly and then disappeared into the rain.

He was in his moment. The rain roaring against his own.

Then, in an instant everything changed. A large crackle split the air, followed swiftly by the splintering of wood as a large cannon blast ricocheted against the prow of The Triskel, forcing him to lay flat on his stomach as the loud cries of men flanked him from both sides. “The Navy!” he remembered hearing them yelling.

Another crackling shot ricocheted into the night, and a sudden blackness overtook him.

He woke in slow waves. He remembered seeing Igrus, his first mate, tying his hands across a plank. The sound of footsteps approaching. “I’d be seein’ ya cap’n” Igrus cheerfully tried to say as he pushed him off the boat. “The ropes ‘ill keep ye tied to the plank. Hopefully ye drift ashore.”

He remembered trying to say something. The cap’n goes with the ship. But he drifted again into the darkness.

Was it days? Cycles? Months? He could not remember, but now, he was here, somewhere and though he was exhausted for both food and water, it was not fatigue that wearied him, but despair.

Bones. He was called now. Not Cap’n bones. It would be something he would have to remedy.

And so he wandered into the night. Ready to claim his own.