[Captain Del]

Muchas Gracias Luckie! Hadn't noticed that!

Alrighty, I promised you guys a pretty actiony chapter. Let's see how you like it:

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June 17th, 1724
Port Royal
6:30 PM

The putrid green clouds that blanketed the sky over the island suddenly became much, much darker. The darkest area of the sky, however, was far out, atop the bay, where it looked as though a black wall had risen itself to taint the sky. The only form of light that penetrated that wall as an unprovoked, heavy flurry of lightning. The blots began slow, single, one by one, with small intervals in between. But almost like a drummer beating atop his instrument, it became quicker, more abrupt.

Delmaria, who stood far back from the bay, by the gpysy cart near an old, abandoned warehouse, slowly walked his way in curiousty towards the lightning. He stopped to a light banging noise over his shoulder, to watch the gypsy cramp herself in to her cart. Before she closed the curtains behind her, their eyes met. He gazed in to what seemed as though she had been traumatized by this sight - they warned him of danger in a strong, silent way. Without a word, she ignored him, and threw the curtain in front to close her off from the world.

Delmaria turned away, back towards the black wall, whose bursts of light had picked up intensely. He started out in a walk, yet as he neared the pillars that ironically welcomed him in to the town, his pace increased. By the time he had hit the cobblestone, he was in a sprint, which was barely slowed as he plowed through the silent wall of people, who only moments ago were fighting over simple things such as food and water. He pushed his way through the individuals, who were in such a trance that they had not noticed the heavily decorated pirate fighting his way through a nonresistance crowding.

Finally, he reached himself to the brick wall which divided him from a sizable fall to the shallow waters below. Delmaria watched as the lightning danced around magically, flashing in all which ways. For a reason, it looked as though they were growing - larger and larger with each flash. It was a phenomenon, how strange it was. Until it had become evident, that the lightning was not growing. It was coming closer.

A final bolt, as large, terrifying, and beautiful as anything for eyes to ever be laid on, roared extraordinarily loud as it changed the color of the entire black wall of mist from black, to pure white. The light blinded nearly all of those who stood at or near the ledge, except for Darkskull himself, whose wide-brimmed hat absorbed most of the blast. Still, it was enough to make his vision uncomfortable, for his ears to ring, but he peered through this to watch in hooror as the bolt struck down at the middle of the dock, blazing it in to an inferno. Those who stood at the dock were either close enough to have themselves burned severly, or thrown back by the blast five, ten meters, either on to the beach, or in to the waters, which reflected back the disgusting hue of the sky. It was terrible, all of it - but not as much for what was to come. For a sound more horrifying, more diabolical than the bolt rang through the area of the port.

The laugh. The same exact laugh which had mocked Delmaria and his renegade group of pirates at the blockade which stood misshapenly in defense of Padres. It shrieked through the night, heavy, taunting, amused. A woman who stood next to Delmaria had now fallen to her knees, as she frantically prayed which a set of rosary beads entwined in her hands. She began to cry as the laugh continued, but she was ignored by all but Delmaria. But he had, to some extent, ignored her. He stood a distance away, standing as the distance between their different lives. Still, he felt for the woman, which is why he turned away. He could not afford to let his emotions overcome him at this time.

The black wall slowly parted, the laugh almost acting as a dagger, for it indeed cut itself through the night. The mist parted to reveal a sight too awfully familiar to the seasoned pirate - a large war ship, slowly pulling itself alongside the very end of the wooden dock. It was not any regular war ship, but it grand, fearsome, and of all things, wicked. It looked as though it had been torn apart, destroyed almost. One that hadn't sailed the seas much could say it looked like any other skeleton ship - but not for a pirate. It was not physical, but the presence the ship gave was different from any other ship of the Undead armada. It almost said to you words on a lost cause, of the diminishing of all hope. It was like looking in to the face of Death himself.

In the flash of an instant, Darkskull felt himself pulled away at the right bicep by an unknown arm. He would have looked to see who it was, but he was more concerned with what was in front of him. From the other side of a large barricade, comprised of random wooden objects thrown together in to a careless heap, a rusted, mighty cutlass swung at him, missing his neck by mere inches. With that, the silence was broken - the personality of the atmosphere returned to itself. Screams of defensless women and children were smothered by the battle cries of those who had taken armies against the invaders.

It was almost a laugh, watching both sides of the fight swinging their swords and daggers, shooting their guns over the barricade, and then ducking behind it for cover. Delmaria stood their, unsure of what to do, as people flocked to and from the barricade which sat atop the arched, stone bridge. The humans had an advantage; their side of the barricade was on higher ground than the invaders. However, this didn't mean it was easier. Slowly but surely, defenders in small numbers, then in groups were sent away from the barricade due to giant gashes in either their arms, hands, or in the worse case, their faces. The Undead had begun to turn their focus away from the withering living to their makeshift wall, kocking at it, tearing it apart. It was in a burst of desperation that Delmaria came up with his plan, drawing his sword (cloth still around the handle) in a commanding, triumphant motion.

"Push!!" He shouted as he rammed his body in to the barricade. It didn't take long for the people of the town to rally behind their unknown leader, thrusting the entire weight of their bodies in to the barricade over and over. The Undead had no idea how to respond to this, as every time they attempted to approach the barricade, they were pushed back by a random jolt. The soldiers of the damned laid their bony hands on the barricade, attempting to push back. But it was simply their bones again the will and determination of the humans, which was much too strong to for the simple animation of corpses. In a final burst of energy, the barricade gave way to the force of the militia of new soldiers, tumbling down on to the mass of Undead that layered the stairs, crushing them in one foul motion.

The sight of the garbage landing sternly on the ground, with not an Undead soul to be found, erupted a cheer from all the men who stood their. For a moment, Delmaria felt proud of his accomplisment, as he felt those people behind him who hugged their families, their friends, and random strangers, simply taking in the moment. All were embracing it with each other but Delmaria, who looked off quietly to his side, where he saw the elderly woman praying so dearly for the forces of evil to not rule the day. She was not their, but the rosary beeds which she held in her hand were, laid neatly on the ground. He bent over and scooped them up in his hand, studying them. He gazed about the area, but saw no trace of the woman, only the celebrating group of men, women and children. He clutched them in his hand tightly. He had not known her, but felt a connection to this mysterious woman, for what she herself stood for.

The brief moment of happiness was interrupted by a small boy, no older than ten, ran up on the group from the back. "They're making their way towards the mansion!!" he cried helplessly. The entire group turned to face him without expression. They all looked about each other, ensure of what to do.

Delmaria tucked the rosaries quickly in to his pocket, and ran his away around the idle group, past the boy, and hooked a right in to the town, without paying any attention to the baffled group that he left behind. As he ran, he passed walls of shops and homes, boarded down with planks of wood to attempt at preventing their lives either being raided by others look for supplies, or being savaged by the ruthless Undead. To much of his surprise, this was the quieter part of the port, despite being home to the majority of those common folk who roamed here. Delmaria was only accompanied by the soft wind that blew by his side. All around him, he heard the faint echoes of the battle raging on, going deeper in to the night. He took this moment to take a seat atop a small stone wall, which closed off in a square a medium sized tree, which acted as an umbrella from the blazing Caribbean sun at the day. All he did was looked around at the desolant place. Despite it being rich in color, it seemed to hold in itself a grey tint, a lifeless, still touch, that wasn't exactly visible. But he felt it there, like a sixth sense, almost.

The pirate shook his head to bring himself back in to the real world, where the events were transpiring. He returned to his quiet run through the town, and at the Eastern Square of the town, banked to his left. He was met by a group of Undead soldiers, literally walking over the townsfolk, as they began to ascend their way past the Governor's Walls, up the hill which led to the Mansion itself. Bodies lined the long grassy plan before him, from where he stood, all the way back to that same gypsy cart. In random areas, set all apart from each other, little pockets of pirate ate away at what form of grass was left.

Delmaria took his cutlass to his side and jogged in action towards the enroaching skeleton army. He picked it up above his head, and slashed it down on to the first skeleton he reached, sending it to the ground. Before the other skeletons could turn around and react, he spun himself like a top in a single circular motion, connecting his blade to the rib cages of at least five more soldiers. Each of them followed suit of the previous, crashing either straight down, or being flung backwards, caught off their feet. Unfortunately, this left Delmaria in an awkward position, which allowed for one of the Undead - a vicious, dagger wielding Raider - to carve a small cut along his arm. Before his blood even touch the ground, Darkskull jumped off his feet backward, twisting his upper body in mid air, and landing his cutlass squarely in to the check bone of the soldier. His blow was devastating, crashing the skull of the skeleton across the small courtyard they stood in, and slamming it in to the wall of to his left. Of course, it didn't leave the pirate unscaved either; he landed in such a fashion that it felt like he nearly folded himself in to seperate pieces, like a slip of parchment placed in to one's pocket.

He spat out a patch of dirt that he had scraped up with his teeth, and turned his vision upward the hill. A group of Navy soldiers were pushing at the large metal gates that allowed entrance to the Mansion, slowly closing them on the outside world. Groups of people rushed themselves to seek shelter within the courtyard, pushing each other, diving dramatically through the air. All Delmaria knew was it was vital to get in there in order to survive.

He pushed himself of the ground and sprinted towards the gate. The had nearly closed, only a meter from being shut off completely, but he persisted, breaking his way past random groups of townsfolk and pirates, punching each other, rolling on the ground, even crawling towards the gates. To them, it was almost like the gates of heaven were closing on them, for all eternity. It was merely a race against himself, but it seemed as he had lost. The gates had closed only a few meters from him, but yet he had built up enough momentum that he couldn't stop himself. The distance between the gates and himself shortened rapidly. Yet even though it was only a few seconds away, it felt like minutes, hours going by. This gave time for Delmaria to realize something vital; that sword was still in his hand.

Darkskull threw the cutlass out of the hand with the cloth, and caught it was his bare left hand. The transformation was almost immediate, which to him, was a fortunate occurrence, as his lesser-than-physical body passed directly through the dark steel bars, and even through a few of the Navy soldiers, before he stopped himself. He turned to face a large group of British officers, commoners, and pirates alike staring at him blankly. They were both mistified and frightened, unsure of what to do. To show he meant them no harm, the captain raised both his hands in the air, a small smirk on his ghostly face. Slowly, cautiously, the soldiers returned to chaining the fence, the townsfolk to searching for their families, and the pirates to laugh, chattering, and showing of their fresh battle scars. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a usual face come up to him.

"Captain! How did you make it here?!" Lawrence cried happily as he tried to pat Delmaria on the back, only for his hand to swoop right through.

"Well, I don't really think I brought myself here, but was simply brought here by a very strange, perfectly timed and precariously unfolded chain of events. Where's the rest of the crew?"

"I have no idea. I saw Firesteel over by Drydock, but word has it that the beach was completely overrun within the first few minutes that they got here. Wisdom I think was trying to direct the guys down at the beach, but after that big flash that hit the dock - you saw that, right? Good - it erupted in total chaos. Only person I know where they are is Grace - she's inside the parlor of the Mansion, the Brit's set up an infirmary in there. Of course, they're only treating those that have enough gold to pay fer it." Prince shook his head in shame as he stared aimlessly at the ground.

"POWDER KE-" a random shout from across the enclosement which protected the Mansion was cut off by a loud explosion, that ripped through the metal gates on the opposite side. Pieces of metal were flung through the air in a firey hailstorm, landing on people who were unfortunate enough to be standing near the fountain by the gate. The smoke was thick, but was blow away quickly by the breeze, confused by the early covering of darkness. As it cleared, a rabid group of skeletons poured in, pouncing on the closest form of life that was near them. The Navy soldiers that stood at the gate before the two pirates picked up their bayonets and, by all common stereotypes among pirates, commoners, and probably an other creature that has ever entered these waters, rushed in to battle, rammed the ends of their guns in the random Undead. This caused an awakening with the crowds that surrounded the political home, jolting them to rush foward in a crusade of righteousness. It seemed as thought the invaders themselves were once again caught offguard, and for a moment, it looked as though a retreat was eminent.

Suddenly, a painful scream ran through Delmaria's head. It was that same scream, the one of a woman, followed by a man, that had rung through his head before. It thrusted itself through his body, taking him to his knees. His brain felt as though it were being tortured, manipulated. Before his eyes flashed such terrible, gruesome scenes; the burning of houses, the the flash of lightning, the crack of a gun - and his father, being punched, kicked, beaten, bruised by those two massive pirates from his memory. Although they weren't as he previously noted them - they were shown as skeletons, destroying his father, taking his mother, flashing so quickly and so painfully in front of him. A final shockwave of pain pushed through him, and the bursts ended.

He found himself supported by his hands as they were planted on the ground. His vision was blurred terribly, and he was awfully confused. Screams and cries rang almost as though they were covered, quieted. He looked around to see what was going on, but only saw the blurred outlines of masses of people running about crazily. His vision improed slightly as it progressed, through each of his heavy gasps for air. He looked to his right, where he could begin to make out everything much more clearly. The fountain, the people, the fires; and a man. A very, very tall man, probably eight feet or taller. He walked as though he were on a mission, or that he was walking on legs of different height - he couldn't tell. He was decorated heavily, covered in a large overcoat, chains, trinkets, jewelry. He seemed like a pirate giant, before his one feature gave his identity away.

He had a gun for a hand.

Man after man threw himself at Roger, but was thrown away by his sheer power. He gave out bursts of chaotic winds that swirled through the air, knocking over anybody that stood within a relative distance of him. With the simple wave of the hand, he could call upon a burst of lightning to strike the ground before him, the Mansion itself, or even a man, almost instantly rendering him helpless, disabled. It was a sight to behold, as the giant skeleton made his strides towards the door of the Mansion.

Delmaria struggled to his feet, staggering and sliding, taking a moment to catch his balance. He swipped up the cutlass of the ground, and, unlike last time, the touch of it's handle felt as though he was having a heart attack. Still, he took a deep breath to steady himself, and began to hobble over, around the small garden, up on to the cobblestone before the stairs, and towards Roger. It took a moment for him to notice who was actually coming towards him. "Bleck! If it isn't the traitor himself! I was waiting to see your face again!"

The ghost pushed through his tired lungs, "You should have.. gotten used to seeing me by now, eh?"

Roger seemed annoyed by his presence. "ENOUGH! You will not ruin me again!" The giant called forth a bolt of lightning to strike the pirate, but it had barely any affect - it passed through him, only wincing from the charges that were absorbed by the ground below his feet. Roger was stunned, as the ghost began to walk towards him, blade in hand. It wasn't long before a group of men followed suit, approaching Roger quickly from behind.

The group treated Roger as a dummy, hacking, slashing and cleaving away at the Undead captain. They did little affect by themselves, but their numbers grew, as more and more defenders join the fight against him. Before long, there was more than a hundred, possibly two hundred crowded in to the area before Roger, shooting him, throwing at him, or cleaving away at him. Their might began to overpower Roger, as he tried ever so hard to knock down them all, one by one - an effort that was hopelessly lost.

It was a few minutes before Roger's legs finally gave out, sending him to his knees. With this sight, the fight picked up immensely - the shooters shot faster, the threwer harder, and the cleavers cleaved heavier. It was not long after this that it became evident - they had won.

Roger thrusted himself upward in a painful scream of defiance. A light, thick, murky green smoke rose up from his feet, covering him from the rest of the world. A final gust of wind blew, sending the smoke away. Nothing was there.

They had begun to notice that the ground semed much lighter, as they peered up in the sky to confirm their hopes. The green clouds began to fade away, to the beautiful orange-purple of the twilight sky. What ensued was perhaps one of the greatest showing of faith in humanity.

At one single moment, ever person on that island let out a loud, uproarious cheer, waving their weapons, throwing their hats. dancing with strangers wildly, crying in joy, hugging their friends, families, and fellow men. Even the solemn Delmaria rejoiced in the victory, holding his arms up high in triumph. As the world of joy swirled around him, he reached his hand in to his pocket, and pulled out the beautiful white set of rosaries. He looked at them, rubbed them in between his bloodied hand, and smiled.

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Boy, talk about a monster of a chapter! Please be sure to rate, comment, and critique. I'm not exactly the best of pointing out typos, so any help would be much appreciated!