As I promised! Have a good time reading this, you readers of the world - I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! So, my mateys, I present to you:
The Shield
1
The scramble began only minutes after the news broke like a plague across the port. Pirates who lingered on the outer edges of the crowd were at the best advantage, sprinting up through the streets of the city, and flooding their homes, the stores, and the taverns, filling up on anything they ever might need. Any store that sold goods, whether it was sailing supplies or clothing, in the middle of the town square or on the remote outskirts was pillaged, plundered, and nearly massacred, leaving no stone unturned and no box unopened. Fights broke out in the streets as men and women scurried for anything they could scavenge from the litter than lined the dirt, French-styled quarters. It was although the invasion had already begun.
The cram out in the bay was much more of a scene. The Code was abandoned right on the spot - those who could get out to the bay first, could take any ship as they pleased. They crashed, squeezed, and rammed out of the end of the harbor, pouring out in to the open sea like a cloud of ash busting from a volcano. Those that were too slow watched as their glimmer of hope faded over the horizon, sobbing on the cold, wooden deck.
To some, escape was not found out on sea, but in the forests of Tortuga. Caravans off people, primarily gypsies who claimed they were “bound” to the island, packed their tings and trudged off in to the hilly jungles, off the beaten roads that cut through the vegetation. Delmaria talked with one man as he drifted his family towards the trees. “When Jolly Roger comes, there will be no way to hide from him,” he assured. “At least by hiding in the caves, it prolongs the affect for my children.”
It was the evening of the first day, the city finally beginning to slow down, as Delmaria walked through the streets to assess the pre-handed damage. His heavy black boots kicked up a little dirt, which was carried by the wind over the debris that lined the streets. Anything from large splinters of wood, bound in mounds, to shards of glass, to even fabrics and food was slowly decomposed by the townspeople who stayed behind, cleaning up the rubble. The stores and buildings that lined the main streets of the town suffered broken windows, torn-down structural posts of the balconies that sat over the mangled double doors, and even patches of burnt wood that littered the internal floors, walls, and furniture. Those store keepers that remained with the island mopped as they dragged their feet through what was once their store, struggling to keep from tears as they salvaged anything they could.
Delmaria saw the sights of Tortuga well in to the night. He continued his walk through the backstreets as the candles and lanterns around him were unlit for the night. For once, the town was quiet and calm, unlike the usual nights where brawls and near riots ran around the clock. The ringing of yells and gunshots was replaced by the chirping of crickets, whispering in the darkness. Delmaria recalled the last time the skies of Tortuga not being filled with fire and whimsy since a date only 10 years in the past, when the news a certain pirate captain had not only learned how to cheat death, but use it. Funny, the pirate thought, how only Jolly Roger had the power to quiet the masses.
Darkskull had finally slugged his way in a full circle through the streets and alley-ways, making it back to the main beach of the port through a little alleyway that poked between two buildings. He watched the sky as it traded its dark-blue hue for a reddish-purple, the day slowly beginning to warm. He took a huff, turning around and heading back down the alleyway, intending to march his way back to the Governor's Office.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Keep them in the entrance; I'm not one to deal with any more at the moment!" Anne barked at her crew mate, who busted at the door to her Office. The small, shaken man nodded hurriedly and slammed the door, his footsteps pounding down the hall. Anne slammed her mug down on the paper-ridden desk as she paced back and forth behind it, her hand wiping back and forth on her forehead. She whipped around to face Delmaria, who stood before the table, planting her hands hard down upon it as to lean over. "And you honestly think I'll let your orders take precedent ov-"
"I have much more qualifications in such an encounter than you!" Delmaria stammered out in a quick tempo.
Anne matched his speed. "And what in God's name would that be!?"
"I have spent five years in the service of the British Royal Navy, four under the service of the French and two under the Spanish, as well as separate workings under various militias and crews across the Caribbean. I know the maneuvers, tactics, and skills of nearly every armada under the skies, and every trick the enemy might have up their sleeve I can weasel out before you can get your boots on. I'm beyond sure that those dates and time frames aren't right, but if you even know how to do simple addition and comprehension of the English language under that glazed uneducated top of yours you might just fathom I'm better in this position than you!"
"Oh, oh EXCUSE me Your Majesty, Your Eminence, Your GREATNESS! You think just because Miss O'Malley left you behind a shiny little trinket that all of a sudden you have a right to walk around high and mighty? As long as you walk around on my island, than you will serve under MY orders!"
Delmaria stood up straight, crossing his arms behind his back and walking a few steps back. "Perhaps that messenger was correct. Maybe you don't deserve your husband's Office."
The door to the room suddenly swung open, Delmaria turning around to see who it was. It was that same guard again, calling to Leanne "Enrique Heralds is here, he wants his damages reimbursed under claims th-"
"Tell him to suck it up like the rest of the people sitting in that room and LEAVE!" she pointed at the man commandingly, scaring him to close the door. She then turned her attention back to Delmaria, puffing angrily at him. "If you so much as mention him again I'll lay you out on the floor."
"Like it would be any better than this scrap of a rug I'm standing on. Either take my offer or my crew and I will be out of these waters as he watch Roger burn your pretty little mansion to the ground, amid the other buildings."
As Anne built herself up to respond, the door to her Officer swung open once again. "Damn it Perkins, open that door again and you'll be on the front lines, so help me!" Her shout made Perkins gasp in fear, slamming the door shut. "Do you see what I have to deal with? Tortuga is already tearing itself apart, and here you are trying to take control of any other resources we have left." She sighed as she walked to the back of the room, planting her back on it. The piles of gold that once sat there were now diminished to a small coating on the ground. "Yes, you’re looking at our remaining treasury right now." She commented.
Delmaria leaned over the desk. "Then let me handle the set up. If we leave all of this on you, then there’s no doubt in my mind we'll be serving Roger real soon."
Anne leaned her head back against the wall. "We have around three thousand left in the town, about a thousand of which are able-bodied men."
"Guns? Ammunition?"
"Twenty-seven muskets, a dozen bayonets, and thirty pistols, all nice and rusty. Close-combat is limited to a few dozen sabres and cutlasses, and maybe a few long swords and epees, if we're lucky. Maybe two rounds of ammunition for each gunner, and only a few powder crates and kegs left."
"We'll make due." Delmaria nodded, his eyes wandering as he rubbed his hands together. "Aye, we'll make due..."
2
As the second day rolled on, the sky became darker and darker, a bleak grey that coated the once marvelous skies of Tortuga. The streets that were once littered in aftershock of the riots, now clean, were draped in the mindset of desperation and hopelessness brought by the early warning signs of the battle to come. Still, none within the port dragged their feet, as they knew doing so would only lead to an eminent demise, either at the hands of Roger, or at the hands of Delmaria.
Throughout the night, the men and boys of the city had been organized in to a militia of minute-men, each with his own little piece of weaponry. Beyond the limited amounts of guns and swords they had, the women of the port rallied to find anything they could that could be used as a weapon. Some found themselves equipped with their father's rusted sword from days of long ago, while all others had to boast were household items; knives, woodcutter axes, logs of firewood, brooms, splintered pieces of furniture, shovels, and anything that could do even the slightest amount of damage were put to use.
Delmaria stood with his back against the stone wall that separated the main street of Tortuga, flat and clean, for the first time, from the main beach of the port, to which he looked out upon. As the shacks and stores that lined the edges of the mecca were torn apart for pieces of wood, a large group of men dug their shovels in to the ground just feet from where the waters ran up on the sand, creating massive holes in the earth. They all were unsure of how this would turn out as a finished product, but they did it nevertheless, and obediently. They eyed the pirates that Delmaria had stationed around the work sites - men of Anne's private army, who's weaponry were far superior than most of the people in the port. Darkskull had instructed them that any person who tried to go against his orders were shot once in the knee, once in the elbow, and then left on the dock for the crows to pick at. So far, the crows were hungry.
As he glared around at all the workers hurrying under the darkening sky, Delmaria felt a tap at his shoulder. He turned to his right, where Grace stood, hanging around the corner of the wall. "Captain, you best follow me. There's somebody that wants to talk to you."
Delmaria bit his lip as he took a glance back out to the beach, and then back to Grace. He seeped in a large breath of air, pushed his leaning body off the wall and rounded around Grace, down the street, as he commented, "This better be worth my time, Ms. Goldgull."
Grace picked up her pace to match Delmaria side-by-side, as they hurried down the bustling street. People of all sorts flooded in and out of every one of the French-Quarter buildings around them, throwing tables, chairs, barrels, and any sort of large objects out in to the street, where other pirates carried them to large piles along the street and throughout the smaller streets, to be used as blockades. They frequently bumped in to people as they swirled through the parted crowds, Grace trying to take the lead in front of Delmaria so she could direct him properly.
When the large fountain in the center of the town began to appear, Grace rushed forward in a bound, grabbing Delmaria's arm and then jerking him through a small stone archway that sat on the right side of the street, which wound up a long, grassy hill. They trugged up it, passing by a few small shacks, before winding around two quick, sharp turns, left, then right. They were met with a short span of ground, where another blockade was already in progress. To the left of them, a long, dimly-lit cobblestone path led through a small alleyway, and then attaching the two areas on either side of the main street via a wooden bridge that ran over the street, from a balcony of one building to another, and a wall of vegetation sitting at their right. Grace gripped Delmaria's arm tighter, running him straight around the blockade-in-progress, and through the alleyway, zooming past the shady brick buildings at their sides, and pounding across the bridge. As they walked over the path, Delmaria looked down to take a glance at the work that was being done below them, until he was finally draw across to the other side, and through another stone archway, leading in to "Old Tortuga."
Old Tortuga was, naturally, one of the older parts of the port. It was essentially a maze of small, walled-off corridors connecting to one another, where most of the "organized" exchange in the port took place. The first place they entered was simply a small patch of dirt with a few buildings on the outer rim, with chickens and a few pigs roaming around. They took to the right path of the corridor, leading them winding in and out of two more before they reached the one where the Faithful Bride was housed. Yet as Delmaria was hoping that was their destination, it was not, and he was looped right in front of it, to the exit that led down in to the Mystic's Quarters.
As they walked through the scented, damp surroundings yet again, Delmaria's mind quaked with the memories of when he found his daughter, disheveled and shaken. It made him not only concerned evermore, but angry and frustrated at all the mindless gypsies that danced around him, who let it happen to her. He was about ready to snap out at one of them, twisting his hands around their necks and silencing their voodoo hymns, when he was shoved forward. He looked in front of him, and there, before a small cart, was his daughter.
Without a word, Delmaria and Marina climbed in to the cart, as Grace hurried back to her post. The cloak closed behind him, as Delmaria took a seat on narrow cushioned couch that hugged the side of the cramped room. Delmaria looked around, the place littered with books, bottles, trinkets, and jars of all sorts of things, messed in the kind of way as though it were intentionally. Marina sat behind a small metal pot that was cooking over a small fire in the center of the structure, where, strangely, no smoke rose.
"I'm glad to see you're feeling better." Delmaria said softly and quietly.
"Well, Doctor Grogan sure can work wonders." she tried to say in a small, to lighten the mood. But she saw the lost, unanswered look on Delmaria's face, so she just went on. "You can feel it, can't you?"
"Feel what?" Delmaria asked, titling his head.
"That dark, strange presence, father. Every time Roger begins to show his face, such a rare occurrence as it is, this feeling comes over all of us. Gypsies, that is. And you., having encountered him more than most of us, must feel it to, by now, aye?"
"Aye...?"
"But this time is different. That feeling almost feels more... pungent, and raw? Yes?"
"Well.. I suppose.."
"Because Roger has become different, father." Delmaria froze with that comment for a moment. He turned his slinking head up to her, in a questioning face. She continued, "My studies here have given me a keen opportunity to learn everything I can about voodoo, father. There is a lot more depth to it that most portray it as - real voodoo, at least. Casting a simple wish takes well beyond ten minutes, to over a few hours, taking in to account the balances of nature, the strength of the.. oh, I won't go in to it."
"So what are you saying? The voodoo I have been around is untrue?"
"In most cases, yes. Tia D- Calypso, is a rare exception to the rule."
"Oh please, and you believe the rumor that became a goddess, too?"
"We're beyond my point. Voodoo used in combat, with pathetic mediums like dolls and staves, only realizes a small bit of its potential. We in the Quarters call it Pig Voodoo. Real voodoo, creating connections with the Lwa themselves, is a much better method. It does not allow you to control nature, as it does let you become one."
"And what does Roger have to do with this....?"
Marina stopped to collect her thoughts for a moment. "The afterlife is fed by the collecting of souls. With each being that dies, not only does the undead army become larger and stronger, but so does Jolly himself, in a sense. Some souls are worth more than others, as you may know. And enough souls, when collected, gives one the ability to.. well..." Marina looked back up to her father. "You'll understand when the time comes. Please, just be careful."
3
The chilling waters of the harbor clashed up in mighty waves as the fierce wind pushed against it. The wind flowed throughout the port from the bay, where it swayed trees, knocked over empty crates and hats, and froze the bones of the people who stood in there, waiting. The sky above was filled with dark storm clouds, but not the usual type of dark grey; these clouds were black, and a deep and dark one at that, as though the night sky had lost its stars. A shadow loomed over the port, as the eager soldiers rubbed their weapons, and their bodies.
At the beach, Delmaria stood at the highest point, at the very bow of the shipwreck where the shipwright was. It stuck out over the jagged rocks to which the waters blasted themselves to, splashing droplets all the way to, and over the pirate. He looked out over the looming, quiet bay, as the breaths of the people through the city stiffened. The dark of the night, a hopeless void that smothered all presences of peace, swallowed the port whole. Yet he stood tall, a bastion of light in this evil, not because he wanted to, but because he knew he had to - he was the light that embraced the weak, the arm that held the banner of victory, and the sword that would cut down the binds of tyranny. He, himself, was the shield, which no matter a force, swing, or blow, could ever be dented.
At his side, the young Libertist recruit Silfly sat, an old, rusted musket in hand. The boy had grown since Delmaria had last seen him, many moons ago, but he was still feeble and sharp in the senses. Even when Delmaria shifted his weight from one leg to another, you could feel the boy's eyes wander to make sure that everything was alright. "Are you sure you can handle the shot, Silfly?" Delmaria asked him, still looking out intently to the bay.
"Yes, Cap'n." Silfly assured, although it looked like he had doubted himself by the way he said it.
"Alright. You best not miss that shot, or else all our plans might as well be shot with that gun of yours."
Just as Silfly was trying to make the decision as whether to respond or not, another heavy gust of wind rocked the entire city. A few cries of woman and children rang out, but they were faint to the might gust. Delmaria gripped the ledge of the shipwright, trying to poke his view through the wind. He could not see it, but he could imagine the scene perfectly - the fleet of black, hidden ships cutting through the bay waters with ghostly precision, as they stalled a distance out from the port so that they could not be hit by musket fire. "Ready your aim, third pocket inward!" Delmaria shouted over the gusts, as Silfly eased the barrel over the edge. By the time the boy was ready, Delmaria could feel the animate skeletons plunging in to the deep, as their front lines trudged along the rocky, cool sea bed, approaching the beach. "You know when to shoot... not too early, not too late."
It was a tense moment of waiting, before Delmaria saw it. He saw the skin-peeled scalps of the walking-dead poke out of the quaking waters, their lifeless limbs slinking with them. Their bones were outlined with skin and mold, like half-decomposed, naked bodies rising out of their watery graves. The moans and groans of the army gained prevalence as more and more of them tranced above the surface. The one at their head carried itself on to the sand, it's empty eye sockets feeling the fear that emanated from the pirates before them. Darkskull prayed that they would not go in to early, despite what their fears told them, and sure enough, they did not. As the skeletons began to ferry out on to the sand in the dozens, Delmaria whispered, "Alright Silfly, do it." Darkskull braced himself, as he waited for the shot. He could see it unfold in his head - the fiery explosion ripping across the beach, decimating Jolly's earliest arrivals, and then the pirates storming in, and holding their lines. But, in place of the bullet shot, he heard nothing. "Silfly, do it!..... Silfly?"
Delmaria turned to expect to see the wary boy, but the sight was much worse. Delmaria faced the barrel of a gun shoved at his forehead, the gun holder shaking arrogantly behind it. "G-get UP!" Silfly shouted.
Delmaria rose to a standing position as did Silfly, his hands up to show an intendance of peace. "Why mate?... We had... The Brothers were hopeful for you."
"A-a-all the Libertists are are a bunch of reb-rebel dogs, that don't appreciate any work I did." Silfly looked as though he were on the verge of tears.
"Oh mate, is this about you no-"
"NO, IT'S NOT! SHUT UP!" Silfly barked. "Roger promised me so much more than they could ever... immortality, he promised me..." Silfly's head wandered, but he snapped back when he realized Delmaria might try to make a move. His face was overcome in a laugh, withering smile. "All I h-have to do is kill you, and I-I'll live, forever!"
"Well, mate, I guess I just-" Delmaria instantly took one of his hands and smacked the barrel of the musket upward, knocking it out of Silfly's hands, and then sliding down to the ground. It hit the tilted surface, and slipped downward, off the ledge, and then easing down the right side of the shipwright. As Silfly tried to understand what happened, Delmaria punched Silfly in the face, knocking him on to the ledge of the shipwright, leaving his head dangling. Darkskull gripped Silfly by the collar, and hissed at him "I'll show you, disrespectful.. Immortal my-!," and before he could finish the sentence, the lifted Silfly off the ground, and flipped him over the side of the shipwright, yelling as he plunged towards the rocks, where he hit a spike it a bone-crunching crunch.
Delmaria turned away from the sight before Silfly's body was swept away by the waves, and jumped down from the bow of the shipwright, juggling down as he crawled to the side of the shipwright, and sweeping the musket up. His legs, shaken by the pound of his feet hitting the wood, led him to the front of the shipwright, at the exit ramp closer to the waters. He watched in horror as the skeletons reaped upon the pirates, pushing up against the desperate soldiers as they attempted to devour them whole. Delmaria snapped the pistol in the direction of the mounds on the beach, and rocked the shot towards it.
Delmaria was shock waved backward at least a meter, landing on his back with a slam. He could see at the bottom of his vision the fireball of chaos rock upward, in to the sky, and outward, in to the bay, and out on to the beach. Delmaria knew sitting on a wood structure would burn him to a crisp, so he crawled off the ramp, and then sprinted straight up to an empty part of the stone wall, throwing himself against it, and putting his sleeved arms in front of his face. He could feel the overpowering heat push with force against his face, and his leather coat, giving it a light, stinging burn as it reeled back. As Delmaria could be certain the flames were not at his face, he turned around to assess the damage, but was met with an even worse sting.
Delmaria's body hit the grizzled sand, as he ran his hand on his cheek to feel the sting on his face. He looked up to an awful, terrifying sight. It was not a skeleton, but completely the opposite. Nevertheless, a terrifying sight.
Over him, stood a towering man, at least seven feet tall. His face was heavily tanned, drapped in a huge, frizzled mustache, which ran around the corners of his mouth, down to his chin. There, it dropped off in to a long, thick, frizzled beard, which reached down to the middle of his chest. His body was cloaked in a heavy leather coat, which was decorated in all sorts of military finery. His clothing was messy and tangled in all sorts of trinkets, shirts, and heavy metal belts, which might have weighted him down; if not for the fact he was burley. He had one heavy black boot, and where the other foot should have been, was a peg led. Atop his head, where his dread locks hung, was a large, brown admiral hat, with two playing cards hiding over the brim. But the most unmistakable of all features was his right hand, where instead of a hand, was a heavy assortment of weaponry, in a tremendous, horrific bundle. He smiled, revealing a mouth full of dirty teeth, and a single shining gold one, as he said in an intimidating, scratchy voice, "'Ello, Delmaria."
Delmaria was lost for words. "M-my God, it can't be..."
"Captain Roger Renveil, back in his own skin. Or, well," Roger looked down at his mechanical, gunned hand, chuckling a little in amusement. "....most of it."
"H-How?!" Delmaria shrieked in horror.
"Well, you see, Amo Dorsi was a powerful soul... But not such a smart one. He forgot to address the fact that harvesting the living is quite the.. medicine." he snickered.
"Yo... You kidnapped those people..."
"YES, I did!" He boomed in a laugh. "The assassinations, the invasions, they were all part of my plan. After all, why kill thousands, when you can just sacrifice a few more... valuables, yes? But alas, I can only go so far with this.... so I must find a new way. I will not go in to details, but, shall we strike a deal? You aid me in acquiring Anne Bonny, and I'll strike your name from the top of my list."
"NEVER!" Delmaria shouted. Roger swung his peg leg in a kick, smacking Darkskull in the stomach.
"If you wish. I would kill you now, but I'm to tend to much more important matters." Roger leaned over his shoulder, and shouted, "Crassus! Get over here, and finish the job for me."
Slowly, the sharp, evil figure rose from behind Roger, through smoke. He slowly drew a shining, spiraled rapier, a strip of silver on the thick black smokes, as he said in the same smooth voice, "Of course, my liege."
4
Their blades clicked with a sharp steel crash, clanking through the smoke-thickened beach as the pirates and skeletons skewn about gathered themselves. Crassus pressed his blade downward against Delmaria's, which he was using to block the sword as he laid on the ground. The pirate gave an upward push that thrusted Brone upwards, giving Darkskull enough time to kick his legs backward furiously against the dark, overturned sand. Crassus gripped his sword as it peaked in the sky, and plunged it nose-first downward, splicing in to the sand in between Delmaria's parted legs. Delmaria took his left foot and kicked the guard of the rapier, slanting Brone's body awkward as he held on to the now-slanted sword.
Delmaria scurried backward, tumbling a little, before reaching his feet. As Crassus struggled to pull up his sword, Delmaria looked at his surroundings. The entire beach was black, engulfed in smoke as it tainted the wooden structures, and the sand. Through pockets of air, Delmaria could see the dock being swallowed in flames, barbequing alive any poor soul that was on it. The fronts of the shipwright and the remains of the buildings around the beach were missing planks, replaced with pockets of fire. These small fires also danced around the beach, either burning on scraps of wood, or bodies that were too close to the explosion. He could not examine it all in detail, however, as his pursuer gained ground on him.
Crassus ran up and pointed his blade at Delmaria's neck, poised like a fence. Delmaria held his blade battle ready, not willing to show any remote sign of surrender. "Well, Delmaria, are you ready to die?"
"Ready, but not willing." Darkskull grunted, as he twisted his body to the left. Crassus thrusted his blade inward on the point only a second too slow, as Delmaria grounded his feet in the sand and flipped his blade around his turning body. His sword clicked against the undead mercenary’s rapier as he desperately shoved it behind his back to block the swing, while he caught himself against a rock next to the shipwright. He spun around, flailing the blade over his head like a matador’s cape, and then cutting it down to cut Delmaria. Yet the pirate lord caught the blow with his cutlass yet again, and cut the blade off to his side to slide it off.
Yet as Delmaria thrusted the blades away, he let grip of his sword, as did Crassus. The two swords stuck in to the ground away from them, leaving the two aggressors to face each other, unarmed. Delmaria took the opportunity to deliver a terrible punch right to a leaning Crassus. He aimed for the rib cage, but hit the left shoulder instead. Crassus responded by swinging his left arm in a weak blow to Delmaria's face, that reminded him of the sting of the flames. Delmaria instinctively corrected his jaw, and then rebuttled by bending down, scooping up a hand of burnt sand, and throwing it in to his opponent's face, blinding him.
As Crassus patted at his face to clear his vision, Delmaria gripped at the black bandana that sat atop the man’s head. Yet instead of getting a firm grasp, it pulled right off, revealing the top of his head. There, sat not hair, but the bare top of a skull, with a small piece of brain poking out through a small hole. As Delmaria cringed in disgust, Crassus raised his head, a maniacal, laughing smile on his face. He then mustered up a tremendous uppercut, which knocked Delmaria's unprepared chin.
Delmaria tumbled backward in pain, but managed to stay on his feet. He looked through his blurred eyes to see Crassus limp his way over to the two blades, the silver, spiraled rapier, and shining, gold cutlass, the rag still pinned around the handle. Delmaria trudged a few dramatic steps forward, before diving through the air, in an act to beat-out Crassus to the blades.
The pirate did, as he hoped, reached the target before his opponent, but in a surprising way. His dive brought him farther than expected, nailing his bodies directly in to the sides of the blades, and sending them with him. Delmaria felt the light cut of the blades' edges against his coat, but they were more of an annoyance than a being painful. As he landed down on the two prone swords, he scurried his hand wildly, to try and grab hold of a sword.
Crassus reached Delmaria in a rage, gripped his arm, and flipped him over so that he would lay on his back. As Delmaria was exposed, his right hand grabbed hold of Crassus's rapier. He drove the blade upward blindly, hoping to drive the point in to some part of Brone. His eyes shut, as he heard the shriek of pain ring through his ears. For the first time, gratefully, it was not his own. Delmaria reopened his eyes, to see the damage done.
Delmaria had hit the blade right in to Crassus's left eye (the one not with the patch over it.) He patted his hands at it quickly as he screamed, blood pouring down his face. Delmaria pulled back on the sword, sticking it in to the ground to push himself up. He giggled as Crassus hit the ground, still yelping. "Don't be such a baby about it, mate! Looks like you’re going to need another patch!" Delmaria taunted him.
5
Darkskull turned around the town walls that led from the beach, around the immediate blockade, and then sprinted down the Main Street. Around him, fires burned, bullets, shrapnel, and pieces of wood flew through the air, and bodies of both sides crunched against the floor. The Undead had been plowing their way through the town mercilessly, while the humans fought with all their will to push them back. Darkskull could see their vitality fading, but he urged them to continue the fight. All the while the battle swirled around him, near the blockades, through the streets, in the houses, and atop the balconies, all Delmaria was concerned about, was Anne.
As Delmaria neared the main square, where the fountain was, he was emerged in the greatest of the battles on Tortuga. The fight had resorted to one-on-one combat in this area, taking place on every square inch of open space. But he paid no attention to the crowd around him - instead, he focused what took place inside the base of the fountain. Roger had Anne gripped by the hair, as he barked at her in her face. The two of them were fighting with words, shouting back and forth. He could tell Anne was fearful, as that menacing gun-hand pocked at her side, but she wouldn't let it show - not in front of her people. Delmaria was the shield, but she was still the captain.
Delmaria barreled his way through the masses, to the foot of the fountain, where he jumped up on the edge, blade in hand. "Let her go, Roger!" she shouted in a deep, gargled, intimidating voice.
"WHERE IS THE MAP?" Roger shouted at her, paying no attention to Delmaria.
"DELMARIA, SHOOT ME!" Anne turned her head, shouting at Darkskull. "KILL ME, NOW!"
Delmaria was stunned, unsure of what to do. He could feel his left hand obediently reach for his gun, but he knew he could never pull the trigger. "Just give him what he wants, Anne! Just give it to him!"
"Damn it Delmaria, I CAN'T HOLD OUT! DO IT, NOW!" she shrieked. Against his will, Delmaria grabbed his pistol, whipped it out, and shot out. He did not hit Roger, as he wanted - he saw the blood flow down, in to the waters. Anne's body shivered down, in to the waters, as Renveil let go. He turned to Delmaria, staring at him.
"You'll pay for this... YOU'LL PAY!" Roger shouted. His feet stormed towards Delmaria in a march, splashing in to the waters. Delmaria gripped his cutlass tighter and tighter, before raising it up and, in a battle cry, baring it down on to Jolly. Yet right before the blade made contact, the undead warlord disappeared in to a plum of dark green, murky fog, before whipping past Delmaria. Darkskull turned to see the cloud speed through the streets, killing off any skeleton that it passed. As the undead fell, the townspeople of Tortuga cried out in victory, watching their enemies drop like flies. But Delmaria turned to a more urgent plan.
His body plopped next to Anne in the shallow fountain waters, picking her up in to his arms. As she bled, dying, before him, flashes of his memories appeared before him.
He saw his wife, crying and sobbing, calling for his name. He gripped her tighter and tighter, telling her how much he loved her. But she couldn't hear him, drifting off in to the darkness, to never awake, to never hear her husband's woes.
"Delm...." Anne groaned in a weak voice.
"Why Anne.." Delmaria sobbed, tears streaking down his face. "I'M SORRY! Why must you die! WHY GOD, WHY!" he cried up, thrusting his head back.
"Ssh...." she whispered to him, quieting him. "Pad.. g-go to P-Padres.. Va-lentina..."
"What about her!? What did Roger want!?"
"The... Headstone.." Anne's body gave a final gasp of air, before peacefully slinking down, out of Delmaria's arms, in to the waters.
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The Headstone?! What the heck is a Headstone!?
I don't expect many of you to know what it was, because it's rarely remembered amongst us older pirates. If you want to know what exactly it was in game, then you can go right here (SPOILER WARNING!):
http://www.piratesonlineforums.com/f...ad.php?t=12991
Be sure to review, mates! Thanks for reading!