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The Utopia sails along and alone in the moonless black ink that is the sea. The seas are calm and the helms man is chatting as he keeps the ship on course. His friend suddenly breaks from the conversation with a "tis something strange with the sea mate, I can't make it out tis just outside our light" the Captain steeps onto the deck and walks to the edge to have a look. "Aye the dark seems to be shifting" he opened his mouth again to comment on a flash but the thwak of the musket ball silenced the words on his tongue. The first mate looked down as his Captain slumped to the deck dead. "WE ARE UNDER ATTACK" he yelled as the cannons of the Merchants Misfortune's broadsides sent chain and grape shot across the deck.
The sails and rigging tear free and the wind that was driving the ship forward escapes. The grape has done its job as well as most on deck now lay still. "Prepare to board" Paul yells as he turn his ship into the light and his crew drops sails. "Tis gonna be a grand night for ol Davey Jones" he says with a smile.
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score 44
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