Accidental Pirates - The Bonny Pirates

The throne room was pristine, every class and position present, they all wanted to set eyes upon the low-born woman who was to be given a title for services to the crown. Morgan kept her eyes forward, it was bothersome, apparently, she was somewhat of a hero. She despised the need for recognition, the only thing driving her down the insanely long aisle was a strong sense of duty. Her path took her past the gentry, their talk muted, it probably didn’t help that she wore an intense gaze, that was further enhanced by a sunburst-orange dress and fiery hair. Denza’s example of refinement was once again on display; her dress cinched in all the right places and loaded with way too many layers of vomit inducing attire. Her crew came after, each in their own contrasting colours, as if they were a visual representation of their varied personalities. Finally, Morgan reached the massive balcony where her new King and friend sat. In his short time as ruler, Leo had made many changes, his laid-bac...

Searing pain, a fear of death, absent. Warmth enveloped her, surely nothingness awaited. Yet, something pulled, tugged, tethered her to existence, and that something continued until she found herself in a strange new place.   Morgan recognised her surroundings, the clouds embraced her, their familiarity bringing a sense of peace. After a timeless moment they parted, and she found herself on a small dinghy as it cut through a wave, oceans spray kissing her face as she breathed in the cool sea air. She smiled, there was something uplifting about Crewtown this late in the year, the pungent air bringing all that the season promised to offer. Morgan sat sternward, in control as usual—one hand on the tiller, the other griping the edge of her small boat. The day had been delightful, her short trip on the immeasurable sea helping to break the boredom of daily life. Before long she had piloted her vessel into Crewtown harbour, it was then that she noticed someone waving at her from the ...

The room is chaos, sights, sounds, and smells, senses overwhelmed. Instinct reigned, a sword parried, a riposte, still alive, yet a spray of blood marked the death of another guard. Leo had accepted that he should be feeling something, but numbness owned his mind. His instructor always told him, ‘it is best to have as much steel between you and your opponent as possible.’ Yet, no amount of steel could save him from the unknown. He stepped backwards to execute a defensive push, his foot sliding on blood, the lack of control lasting until he was on one knee, his mighty Greatsword propping him up uselessly. A smug smirk adorned the red soldier who stood over him, the smirker raising his sword before sending it downwards. Time slowed, training kicked in, Leo’s blade sweeping upwards in a defence block, deaths imminent call registering at the edge of the fog. The very next happening far from possibility, his attacker collapsed, ending up beside his downed knee, his eyes vacant, smirking in ...

Morgan was adorned with her best and subsequently thickest leather armour. Pirates aren’t generally the biggest fans of any sort of armour; it gets in the way when ambling up and down the rigging. Weather by choice, or not, she had encountered her fair share of battle, the underlying butterflies sending her stomach on an unpleasant ride. Experience had long since taught her to channel any nerves into the task at hand, and so gripping the wheel tightly she went through a list in her mind, checking and double checking every item. The movement of the ship beneath her was unearthly, gone was the need to steer into, or out of waves, in its place fire, heat, and gas. Sails were now located on the fore and mizzenmasts, but they were just tools to further direct or slow, prevailing winds had considerably less impact on their journey, a fact that made her uneasy. Although, it helped to imagine that an invisible force was pushing, rather than the uncertainty of harnessed fire. “ Ho, Bastien si...