A Pirate's Tale (Fiction) (893 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: -0.14 on 8 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by The Walrus (View user info) at 2004-08-27 17:33:09 EDT
I spent awhile writing all this so I hope it's atleast pretty good
The sun crept over the horizon, illuminating the old ship in the morning light. The sky turned shades of pink, orange and red, painting a beautiful collage against the light blue backdrop. I leaned over the wooden railing for a better look. Every slight movement was answered with a groan from the ancient ship. Most sailors on board were still asleep, a few slaves scrubbed the deck or counted the food supplies. But I liked the morning air. It was warm, yet cool breezes flowed over the ship, bringing waves to lap against the side. It seemed somewhat rude of us pushing the ocean aside without a thought. But that was silly, waves have no feelings.
Scents of salted pork crept across the deck, searching for the noses of sleeping crew members below. We had no morning bells, no captains yelling at us to awaken. If you got up you ate, if you slept late, you didn't. Movements could be heard from below, the men were obviously beginning to arise. Grumbles of tired sailors were heard across the peaceful vessel. Many would wake with only a brief recollection of the past night. They weren't a responsible bunch by any account. They lived to get rich, and when they got rich they'd spend and spend and spend. Then they became poor and would end up on a ship yet again. Such is the way of a pirate. It continued on until a fight broke out and guns were drawn, a cannon shot landed much too close, or the ship drew one too many leaks. Yet they knew no fear. Whether they simply ignored it or embraced it I may never understand. I was not one of them.
I was born a solid 17 years ago upon this very ship. No one knew who my mother or father were, I was found atop a keg of beer in a cupboard towards the bottom of the ship. Not the best start to a life, but it had to do. A slave found me and brought me to the captain. Captain Cruz, a well respected buccaneer worth well more than 3,000 gold pieces. That's a mighty sum for one head alone as rewards go. He was well liked by his crew, he didn't keep much gold for himself. I think his motives were different than most, he simply loved the sea. I guess his fondness for nature passed on to me. Though his love for piracy never did. I usually feigned an interest in his talks of plunder and peril. I'm the first to admit it, I'm not the bravest soul you'll ever see. I've got about the courage of a timid mouse. Battles came and went and I'd take part, usually helping the wounded. Once when we were short on men I got to man a cannon. This ship sails without a doctor. If a shard of wood was stuck in your leg, you'd pull it out, wrap the wound in some cloth and five minutes later you'd be back on your feet. No pity was shared in that boat.
Pirates began stumbling up the stairs, drawn to the smells of beckoning food in the Grand Hall. The Hall was the one reasonably appealing part of the ship. I've eaten so many meals there I need only close my eyes and I'm standing in the entryway. Expensive silks and furs decorate the walls, glistening as rays of sunlight dance around the room. On the right wall three huge windows are opened to capture the morning drafts. Tables and desks line the room, covered in memorabilia from every corner of the globe. Ivory statues, bronze sculptures, golden shields and countless other treasures leave you to wonder just how many decades this ship has seen. Four gigantic tables as wide as a man and long enough to seat twenty on a side fill the room. The tables would soon be covered in platters of salted meats and fish, biscuits and flagons of beer.
I was beginning to get hungry myself now and started towards the Grand Hall. As I turned away from the water a speck on the horizon caught my eye. It was so far away that it was impossible to discern whether it was a ship, an island, or simply my eyes playing tricks. Captain Cruz always said to expect the worst, so I immediately ran towards the bow of the ship, away from the Hall. To get to the Captain's Quarters I had to cover the length of the ship, climb a set of steps to yet another smaller deck and clamber up a narrow ladder to be standing in front of the Captain's door. It opened abruptly as I prepared to knock and nearly threw me over the edge.
The Captain appeared and grabbed my wrist to steady me as I struggled to stay on my feet.
"Sorry about that me boy, remind me to tell Smitty to put a peephole in that door so I don't kill nobody," boomed Cruz's powerful voice.
Smitty was the ship's carpenter, blacksmith, and repairman. A very skilled chap, had he stayed on shore he'd probably be very wealthy and lead a respectable life. Something draws these folks to piracy and I've not a clue why.
I began to warn the Captain about what I saw, but I hadn't gotten the first word out when he barged in.
"Christ Jack, you been runnin' laps this morning?
I hadn't even realized I was panting like a dog. Exercise is hard to come by on ship and I was terribly out of shape. The older men constantly carry crates and climb netting, but the Captain says I'm too young for any of it.
"No, I was just coming here to-"
'Outta my way boy, some of us are hungry!"
Cruz lifted me off my feet and placed me to the side. He deftly hopped down the ladder and was ten steps ahead of me as I raced to keep up with his massive strides. His colorful garments were covered in coins and beads and he jingled as he walked.
"Cap'n, it's awfully important!"
"Important enough to starve a man?" he questioned, "save it for after breakfast."
"There's a ship headed right towards us!" I blurted out.
The Captain looked out to sea, the sun beating warmly on the back of our necks. The black speck had now transformed into a large ship, its billowing sails had some kind of symbol on them, but it was still too far away to make out.
"Mother of pearl Jack, why didn't you tell me earlier?" His voice held a hint of excitement, Captain Cruz was not one to shy from battle.
"I tried sir, but-"
"No time for excuses now, get me my eyeglass and move"
"Aye-Aye"
"What the hell was the lookout doing?" he asked fiercely.
Atop the Crow's Nest, a head hung sleepily over the railing eyes closed. Faint snores could be heard from above.
"Nightshift," I guessed.
"Boy, when I'm done with him he's gonna wish he'd never been born!"
As I scampered off I could hear his angry shouts, startling the lookout above. Obviously his words weren't meant for my ears. I retraced my earlier path and entered the Captain's Quarters. There were two rooms, the first was small and cluttered with tools, beyond that was a luxurious bedroom, far more comfortable than the bunks below. Atop a chest in a corner lay the gold painted eyeglass. I had to remove a map of some distant sea to grab the golden instrument.
I hurriedly made my way back to the main deck, finding the dining hall emptied of pirates now standing in awkward lines. The remaining men were climbing the stairs and joining the ranks above. Captain Cruz was conferencing with his three officers, anxiously glancing over his shoulder at the approaching ship. It was rare for a pirate ship to have organized ranks like Cruz's, yet again it was rare to find a captain as able as Cruz. I approached the four of them, eyeglass outstretched. The Captain snatched it from my hands and peered through it for a few seconds before handing it to the nearest officer.
"Looks like we're in for some fun boys," he announced to the eager crew, "you know the drill."
Cheers and shouts echoed through the crowd of buccaneers as the officers moved in and started giving orders. The chaos slowly subsided and the deck began to clear out. Many men trooped down the stairs to ready a cannon, some stood watch along the railing beside me. A few of the slaves walked among the pirates, handing out pistols, cutlasses, and muskets to those who were unarmed. Captain Cruz was still peering through the eyeglass, although it was plain to see it was a Navy vessel.
"Boy, get yourself downstairs and help out." Cruz didn't even look up as he spoke.
"Yessir." I didn't want to go down below, all my battles are fought down below. There wasn't much choice in it for me though. A slave stopped me as I walked toward the stairs. He motioned for me to take a pistol. I shrugged him off and continued on my way. Not like I'll see any action, I never do.
"The Navy ain't gonna leave nobody alive, whether you're three or eighty-three. They don't much care for pirates. Take a pistol sir, can't do no harm." The slave was following me, a pistol held in outstretched arms.
I turned to face him. He was black, like most slaves aboard, and looked to be past his prime. Wrinkles writhed about his tired face, it looked as if he was covered in a film of dust. A few gray curls lay atop his bald head, looking rather out of place. He had on a brown blanket, cut so that his neck protruded out the top and hung loosely over his back and chest, dangling to his knees. It looked like he might collapse any second and I wasn't going to ruin his day, I took the pistol from his withered hands. I muttered a thank you and continued on. I doubt he'd last through the battle. It was common for slaves to be among the pirate casualties.
I didn't have a holster, so I tucked the gun under my belt, facing downwards. I left it unloaded, for many great pirates had lost their legs from misfired guns, The six bullets I had been given were now safely in my pocket. Hopefully I wouldn't need to take them out.
Below deck it was utter chaos, cannonballs rolled aimlessly about the floor, chased by cursing pirates. The cannon flaps had been opened on each side and eight cannons poked out of both. The cannons were being cleaned and many men struggled to tie them down. I assisted a pair in holding the rope as they tied countless knots around pegs in the floor. A cannonball rolled across the deck in front of me and I stuck out my foot to stop it. I realized my mistake as my toes screamed in agony. I grimaced as a pirate snatched up the metal sphere, chuckling as he walked away. I poked my head out of a cannon flap and saw the quickly approaching ship, probably would be about three minutes before the first shots were fired. This Navy ship was no scout, no scantily armed merchant vessel. This ship was created with one purpose in mind, destroying pirates. Two rows of seven cannons could be seen on the side of the ship as it turned to face us, it looked to be twice our size. I could see men in blue uniforms scurrying to and fro atop their ship, preparing for battle much like ourselves.
"You want your head as a bloody cannonball kid?" yelled an angry voice behind me. I removed myself from the flap and moved towards the center of the deck. I plopped down against a wooden pillar, eyeing the scene from a distance. I could see the handsome face of Smitty, trying frantically to get an uncooperative flap to open. He called for a servant and was soon dousing the metal hinges in cooking grease. The wooden flap swung outward reluctantly, squeaking noisily. Three pirates immediately struggled to push the cannon up against the flap. The tip just shone outside as the first shots crashed against our vessel.
To be continued?
User Reviews
Submitted by NETHOS (user info) at 2004-08-30 17:17:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
HA HA!
Its a load of shit!
Actually I dint read it BUT YOU -2'd ME AND IM PISSED OFF!
Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (user info) at 2004-08-29 15:05:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is a very good start, and, once again, is very well written! Lots of description and detail. You spent a good while on this. I can tell. I do agree that the main thing that could do to improve it is if you got yourself a dictionary of pirate language, or old naval jargon, pirate history and such and rewrote some of the description with these terms included. Here are some links that might help:
http://www.geocities.com/Athens/7012/arr.html
http://www.piratesinfo.com/main.php
http://www.dockyards.co.uk/new_page_3.htm
There are probably thousands on the web, so I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding what you need. My only other complaint was that the boy was 17 but the captain wasn't letting him do any work. That would generally cause contempt from a boatload of pirates. 17 is a more than capable age to be climbing rigging, carrying kegs of powder, etc.
You'll either need to explain this at some point in the next one, go back and rewrite this one to fit the explanation in, or change the age of the character.
Period fiction is hard to pull off. You really have to know your stuff / do your research. You seem to have a very good grasp on writing fiction -- now do your research and transform it from good to stellar!
Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (user info) at 2004-08-29 02:29:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I have not read this yet, but +2 for obvious effort. I will read this after I have gotten some sleep. It's hard to see right now. I will give you a proper review then.
Submitted by SullyThePirate (user info) at 2004-08-27 22:10:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm the only one who should be writing something like this.
Submitted by Spookster (user info) at 2004-08-27 21:24:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Not too bad.
You need to brush up on your piratical knowledge though.
Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2004-08-27 21:09:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This post belongs in the fowl depths of Davy Jone's locker.
People don't like Pirates or Westerns, unfortunately.
Submitted by Comicon91 (user info) at 2004-08-27 20:01:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Gay!
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2004-08-27 17:43:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Crapola. 0 for not continuing it.