ã€ŠLight of the Seaã€‹


 The Forgotten Mariner

    Merrick stood on the quarter deck. The wind tossed his long matted hair. His ship hurtled through the waves, cutting a path sharp and quick through the dark waters of the evening sea. They were a few miles off the coast of the Atacambi Desert, and heading for shallow seas. Behind him, an ominous wind blew strange feelings of dread. They had to run, and they had to run fast.

    Captain Merrick Draven pushed his crew as hard as he could. They worked as if on the edge of a great squall that was threatening to sink their beloved ship. They worked like demons hellbent on achieving their goal. All of their lives depended on it. The darkness of the night crept over the horizon. A lone silhouette stood out against the purple of the evening sky. A large ship of three masts, with torn and tattered sails, trailed the "Tiderunner". Merrick felt the cold dread of the inevitable creeping up his neck. He shivered as he gripped the wheel as hard as he could.

    The "Forgotten Mariner" was a ship straight from legend. It pursued the Tiderunner with reckless abandon. It sailed in ways which no mortal ship could, cutting across the wind in a direct line without jibbing or jiving. Merrick commanded more sail. He wanted as much speed as he could get. Running from a mythical ghost ship demanded speed. His ship was fast. Notoriously so. He had used that speed to plunder the ancient island that housed the treasure of Davy Jones. Now the cursed Captain pursued, looking to get the treasure back. Merrick''s crew knew nothing about this particular part of the voyage, or his intentions. He did not want them balking at the thought of stealing a potentially cursed treasure or losing their nerve.

    "Heave to and make full sail, you scallywags! We''ve got a hunter on our tails! By the powers he''s gaining on us!" Merrick shouted angrily. He needed the crew to edge out more wind. The Forgotten Mariner was picking up speed, and Merrick was running out of sail. He turned the wheel over to the helmsman so he could better command his crew.

    "You there, trim those sails! I want them so tight they sing! We''re not losing to those bilge-sucking bastards!" Merrick commanded a sailor that was moving too slowly.

    "Haul on those lines! Let her catch every gust, or by The Powers, I''ll have you keelhauled for sluggin''!" roared Roger Allerday, the First Mate.

    The sailors moved with frantic panic as the ghostly ship gained ground. They all knew what was at stake. A hanging by the Royal Azonian Navy. Merrick knew the real stakes though. Death would be a welcome option, if it were such, but with Davy Jones, the fates were always worse.

    Merrick raised his spyglass and peered at the haunted vessel behind them. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

    "Damn their eyes, they¡¯re gaining on us! Steer her steady, and keep the wind in our favor. Helmsman, jibe the boom and let''s try to catch those stronger gusts!"

    "Jibing now, Captain!" the helmsman replied. The ship made a quarter turn to the south, bringing the heading to south by southwest, and enabling the sails to catch those bigger gusts. This increased the ship''s speed slightly, but it wasn''t enough.

    "All hands, stay alert! This ain¡¯t over ''til we lose ''em or feed ''em to the deep!" Roger shouted. He seemed confident, which inspired the men to work like fiends. Merrick did not share the confidence internally though.

    "Ready the cannons on the starboard side, just in case. If they get within range, give ''em a broadside that¡¯ll make their ancestors dizzy!" Merrick shouted to the gunners. They hopped to and began preparing the charges. A light rain began to fall.

    By now, the Forgotten Mariner had come into all the crew''s view without need for spyglass. The tension on the ship grew to a fevered pitch. The black, ratty sails, and the rime of bone and scum on the decaying wood of the Mariner struck fear into the hearts of Merrick''s pirates. Crusted barnacles, oyster shells, and clams clung to the decks under a carpet of seaweed and fish bones. The Forgotten Mariner looked as if it had been drudged up directly from the seafloor.

    The First Mate looked like a ghost himself. He gave the Captain a horrified look. Realization set in.

    "By the dark depths, it''s the accursed Davy Jones himself! All hands, this is no ordinary chase! We''re up against the devil of the sea himself!" He screamed. For a moment, Merrick looked defeated, but he picked himself up quickly, as not to show weakness in front of the men.

    "The legends were true, then! Look how she cuts through the water like a knife through butter! What are your orders, Captain?" A sailor looked fearfully at Merrick. Merrick shook his head and blinked. Things were under his control, he knew what he was doing, he reminded himself.

    "We''ve no choice but to outmaneuver this phantom! Helmsman, steer us through the shallows, maybe we can shake him where the waters run thin!" Merrick commanded, faking some mockery of bravery. He knew however, that this was not going to succeed, and that was according to his plan.

    "Aye, Captain, setting course to shallower waters!" The helmsman replied. He turned the wheel sharply and the ship lurched to the port side and toward the deserted desert shoreline in the distance. Some of the pirates on deck stumbled at the sharp, unexpected turn.

    "She''s gaining fast, Captain! And there¡¯s something unnatural about that wind!" cried a pirate busy coiling excess rope.

    "Damnation! Load the cannons with chain shot. Aim for their rigging. If we can¡¯t outrun ''em, we''ll cripple ''em!" shouted Merrick, and the gunners started loading chain shot in the cannons.

    The Forgotten Mariner was soon upon the Tiderunner, and the gunners aimed their cannons at the already crippled looking rigging of the phantom ship.

    "Ready to fire on your command, sir!" one of the gunners shouted.

    "Wait for my signal... Fire! Tear those ghostly sails to even more shreds!" commanded Merrick. The cannons roared with the thunder of the deep, as the chain shot flung through the air and made contact with the ghost ship''s rigging. This did not have the intended effect.

    "Captain, she¡¯s bearing down on us like death itself!" screamed one of the gunners, midway through loading another volley.

    "Our cannons won¡¯t be enough. Keep firing, and keep us moving! Every knot counts!" Merrick was soaked with a combination of seaspray, rain, and sweat. His legs were shaky, and he felt like this was the end. "Listen well, you hearties! This may be the most cursed night of our lives, but if we''re to meet our maker, let it be with a fight that will echo through eternity! All hands, brace for boarding. If those spectral fiends want our souls, we¡¯ll not make it easy for them!" Merrick unsheathed his cutlass. Roger looked exhaustedly at him but unsheathed his cutlass as well. Merrick saw the glint of anger in his First Mate''s eyes.

    The Forgotten Mariner crashed into the side of the Tiderunner. Splinters of the deck flew into the air and sprayed the pirates onboard. A few of the gunners went flying through the air, and landed hard on their backs. Iron hooks soon grabbed the gunwales of the Tiderunner, and the two ships became locked in an embrace of death. As the weight of the Mariner slowed the Tiderunner down, everything went quiet.

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    The Tiderunner came to a standstill, as the wind died out. Merrick stood with the rest of the crew, braced for the inevitable boarding party. Nothing could be seen on the deck of the other ship. Merrick didn''t understand what happened to the wind.

    A thick fog set over the sea. The rain stopped. The swell calmed, and the ocean turned into a glass mirror. It was an inky black void everywhere, except for the deck of the Tiderunner. Time seemed to slow, and these few moments seemed like hours to Merrick.

    The air grew colder, as the sound of crashing waves echoed far off in the distance. A hoard of barnacle encrusted skeletons emerged from the darkness, climbing across the gunwale of the Tiderunner. Merrick froze in stark terror at the sight. The skeletal sailors lined up along the edge of the Tiderunner''s deck.

    The thundering echo of waves in the distance stopped, and Davy Jones himself materialized before Merrick. The Cursed Captain stood a whole head taller than Merrick. Each bone in his body was crusted over with salt rime, barnacles, clams, and oysters. Slimy sea life was crawling all over his skeletal frame, accrued from countless decades submerged beneath the ocean''s dark depths. Sinister green seaweed was draped over his shoulders, like a grotesque mantle. It fluttered in an unnatural, chilly breeze that seemed to accompany him like a loyal crew. Merrick felt the marrow in his bones freeze over.

    Davy Jones was dressed in tattered, threadbear captain''s garb. It was soaked with the brine of a thousand storms, and as dark as the deepest ocean trench. The remains of ornate embroidery, signifying the West Azonian Trade Company, faded on his jacket and arm cuffs. His hat, once a proud tricorne, sat askew on his skull, the edges frayed and salt-stained. His eye sockets flickered with a ghostly light, as blue and cold as the deep sea itself. A heavy, rusted cutlass, covered in coral, hung at his hip, sharp as ever. His very presence brought the essence of the deep sea with him.

    "Captain Merrick Draven... Ye have something that belongs to the depths. Hand it over or forfeit your souls to the Mariner.." Davy Jones''s voice slithered out of his skeletal mouth like an eel wriggling from a hole in the mud. The smell of low tide hung heavy in the air.

    Merrick gave an apprehensive smirk, and a light, dry chuckle. He was terrified.

    "Ah... You''re taller than the tales tell. But let''s be reasonable now, shall we, Mr. Jones? I''m but a humble pirate. Surely there is a way to settle this without the threat of eternal damnation?" Merrick spoke quickly, slurring his words.

    "Ye think this be a matter for negotiation? You give me the relic, or I take you, and your crews'' souls. I will bind them to the Mariner, and forever, you will serve me." Jones replied.

    Merrick gave another quick smirk.

    "Well, that sounds outright boring, if you ask me... I''ve never been a man for routine. Besides, isn¡¯t there something else, something a bit more... potent you¡¯ve been seeking? Something only a daring pirate could fetch?"

    "What knowledge do ye hold, Draven?" replied Jones. The immortal sailor''s interest had been piqued.

    "Well, considering my current... precarious situation, let¡¯s say I¡¯ve heard whispers of a certain... Light of the Sea? Supposedly controls the very winds and waves. Now, such a trinket might be worth more to a cursed sailor than this shiny bauble, no?" Merrick dangled a black orb on an obsidian chain tauntingly in front of Jones.

    "Aye, the Light of the Sea... Cursed it be, and cursed I am, never to retrieve it myself. You are bold to speak of it." Jones''s eyes glowed slightly brighter as he spoke.

    "Boldness is my specialty. So, what do you say? I return this little gem, and in exchange, you grant me and my crew a year to bring you the Light? Seems like a fair trade for avoiding eternal servitude." Merrick smiled wryly at Jones. He sniffed at the stench of rotting fish that wafted off the skeletal captain.

    "Ye be a cunning one, Captain Draven. Very well. Fetch the Light of the Sea and bring it to Blackstone Isle. Fail not, or it''ll be your souls I¡¯ll claim. You have one year." Davy Jones snatched the orb from Merrick''s hand with unnatural speed.

    "A year it is, then. Delightful doing business with you, Captain Jones. Let¡¯s hope for both our sakes'' the winds favor us." Merrick said with a lighthearted smile.

    "Here be a warnin'' for what awaits ye if ye fail me Draven.." Jones raised a bony hand and snapped his fingers. In an instant, several of Merrick''s crew were cut down before they could even react. The skeletal sailors brandished their weapons, and struck down another few pirates who braved to attempt revenge for their comrades.

    Merrick raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, no need for violence!" Merrick begged.

    "Ye be a bold one, Captain Draven... Too bold. Cross me again, or fail, and there''ll be no parlay. You will fetch the Light of the Sea, and bring it to the very island you plundered this day. You have one year''s time or your entire crew will suffer my wrath." Davy Jones''s last words faded into the night as his crew retreated into the darkness, and Jones dematerialized from the deck of the Tiderunner.

    Merrick lowered his hands, and slowly turned to face his crew. He looked sheepishly at them. Roger Allerday stared daggers at Merrick. The swell returned, and a light breeze began to blow. This time, a natural breeze, and not that of the cold alien wind that accompanied Davy Jones. The deck of the Tiderunner rocked gently. The Forgotten Mariner disengaged with the Tiderunner, and drifted away, before completely submerging below the waves.

    "That wasn''t so bad." Merrick said at long last. He could see it in their eyes. The glint of mutiny. "Come lads, we''ve survived! At least most of us did. Now we''ve a new adventure, the Light of the Sea!" Merrick gestured wildly about himself, articulating his hands in a flourishing fashion.

    "Captain Merrick! A word, if ye please, ''fore this crew and the howlin'' winds!" Roger said, stepping forward, his voice loud enough to be heard over the growing wind. He tossed a coiled rope on the deck. "It''s about your secret trinket, the one bound to Davy Jones! And this Light of the Sea. You gambled with more than gold, Merrick, you gambled with our souls!" Roger accused Merrick angrily. Merrick sighed internally. Here it was.

    "Oh, that old thing? Just a bauble from the deep, Roger. I thought it might spruce up the cabin a bit, add a little ghostly charm." Merrick feigned shock, lifting his hands up once again, in a mock surrender.

    "This is no jest, Captain! You knew the peril it brought upon us! How can you stand there and make light of our doom?" Roger seethed at Merrick.

    "Because, Roger, my good man, if we can''t laugh in the face of doom, what are we even doing out here? Besides, who among us hasn''t fancied a dance with danger? Besides, now we have a better treasure to go after!" Merrick stepped forward, his expression serious for a split second before breaking into a sly grin again.

    "And what say ye lads? Will you follow this madcap into the jaws of the abyss for a chuckle and a shrug?" Roger asked, raising his voice so that all present could hear.

    The crew gave a mixture of laughter, nods, and uneasy glances. The tension was thick enough to be cut with a cutlass. Merrick interpreted this as a sign he might stand a chance yet.

    "See?! Adventure! Thrills! Near death experiences! It''s what we signed up for, isn''t it? Let''s not disappoint the legends they¡¯ll write about us one day." Merrick replied to the crew at large.

    "No, Merrick. This time you''ve spun your last tale. We need a captain who¡¯s more than just theatrics and close shaves." Roger said, lowering his voice and speaking directly to Merrick.

    Merrick sauntered over to Roger, and clapped an arm around his shoulders.

    "Roger, you wound me. I am all that and more. I promise, there''s a method to my madness. Stick with me, and there''ll be a story in it for you too!"

    Roger Allerday, the First Mate, gritted his teeth as he looked over the crew. There was a mixture of approval of the Captain, and anger against him. Perhaps it wasn''t quite the time for mutiny. They still needed the Light of the Sea to save their souls, and Captain Merrick almost certainly knew how to get it.

 A Deep Sea Surprise

    The Tiderunner sailed from the shallow coast of the Atacambi Desert, off the continent of Azon. The crew was eager to leave those desolate shores behind, and the memory of the encounter with Davy Jones and the Forgotten Mariner. Merrick discretely charted their course south east. He would take them out into the deep waters of the Cerulean Sea toward Nustar Island, and then head south toward the Tongue of the Ocean, the gateway to the Ocean of Ruona.

    The gambit was risky. Lurering Jones to attack the Tiderunner almost turned the crew against him, almost got his ship sunk and soul enslaved for eternity, but it paid off. He couldn''t tell the crew any of this. If they knew his ultimate goal, they would for sure maroon him or worse. But the allure of the Light of the Sea was too much, and now he knew for sure it was real.

    The Light of the Sea. It was a legend Merrick had heard of his whole life. The tale goes that the Carcharian hero Kaimana stole the Light of the Sea from an ancient island, where it had been a nexus of all three Powers connected to reality, a creation of an ancient and advanced civilization. Kaimana used it to calm storms, and defeat sea monsters of gargantuan size. Eventually, Kaimana died, and the Light of the Sea was lost. Davy Jones came into being, and began a conquest to hoard all of the relics of the sea. What better prize than the Light of the Sea? An ancient and honored relic of the Carcharia, and a powerful weapon. Jones retrieved the Light of the Sea, but a huge Malstrom rose from the depths. Those who retell the legend often claim the spirit of Kaimana created the Malstrom in order to take the Light from Jones. Ultimately, Jones lost the Light, and the spirit of Kaimana cursed him to never be able to find it again.

    A rumor hundreds of years later claimed that the Ta''u Tribe of Carcharia found the Light of the Sea, and used it to stop an eldritch entity from entering Lyrea. That was supposedly 155 years ago. Merrick didn''t know if these were simply stories or not until his encounter with Davy Jones.

    His ploy to steal the relic, and parlay with Jones paid off. Now he would make way for the Shark Islands, and the small island of Mao Shar to investigate the location of the Light of the Sea.

    The voyage was far from comfortable. The crew repaired the damage caused by Davy Jones''s larger ship on the deck. They worked hard to keep their home floating. Supplies were starting to drain though, and they would need to take a prize or make port before reaching the Tongue of the Ocean.

    Rifts were growing among the crew as well. Lines were being drawn. It was clear to Merrick that many of his pirates were siding with Roger. He still had loyal pirates though, and as long as they all followed his commands, he could handle the rebels. The helmsman was still solidly in his camp. A solid pirate named Gilbert McColl from Waveward. Mr. Gilb, as Merrick referred to him.

    "Mr. Gilb, three degrees east, if you please." Merrick directed Gilbert. He held a map up to the horizon.

    "Aye Cap''n!" Gilbert turned the wheel, and the ship changed direction slightly.

    "Keep her steady." Merrick nodded and gave Gilbert a hearty pat on the shoulder. He returned to the Captain''s Quarters to plan the rest of the route, with a stop in Nustar Island for supplies.

    Roger approached the helm. His gaze was intense. Gilbert straightened up at the wheel. The sun was hanging low on the horizon, and the waves lapped lazily at the bow of the ship.

    "Gilbert, ye''ve been steerin'' this ship true since we last made port, almost a year ago now. I reckon you''ve taken note of the divide brewin'' amongst the crew." The First Mate said as he began inspecting Gilbert closely.

    "Aye sir. The winds of discord be a blowin''. What of it?" Gilbert kept his eyes on the horizon, and hands steady on the wheel.

    "The captain. He''s led us into the jaws of Davy Jones, and now chasin'' after fables and legends. He''s leading us to our doom. This isn''t the merry jaunt we all signed up for when we joined the Black Squids. Can you imagine what Captain Singh would say about this? We haven''t paid tribute in months." Roger explained.

    "The captain''s got his reasons, he always does. What¡¯re ye suggestin'', Roger?" Gilbert replied grimly.

    "I¡¯m suggestin¡¯ we might need to steer this ship on a safer course, one that don¡¯t involve chasin¡¯ after cursed relics. Merrick¡¯s obsession could be the end of us all. We need a cap¡¯n who respects the lives of his crew more than the thrill of his own legends." Roger retorted, in just as grave a tone.

    "And ye think ye be that cap¡¯n, do ye? What makes ye think ye can outsmart the likes of Davy Jones or whatever curses we might face on this fool¡¯s errand?" Gilbert asked, pointedly.

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    "I ain¡¯t claimin¡¯ to be a hero, Gilb, but I¡¯m sayin¡¯ I¡¯d not gamble with the lives of my mates over a whisper of treasure. We can turn back, make for familiar waters. Get help from the Black Squids. Live to sail another day." Roger was caught a bit off guard by the Helmsman''s resolve. He thought old Gilb would have been easier to sway.

    "Turn back, ye say? And what of Davy Jones? Cap''n made a deal with the devil, and sealed all our fates. We could use it against Jones, if he wants it so bad. We retrieve it or...."

    "Or it could drag us to the depths, lost and forgotten. Listen, Gilb, I need ye with us if we¡¯re to make a stand. Ye¡¯re respected amongst the crew. Your word carries weight." Roger interrupted.

    "Respect is earned, Roger, not just by playin'' it safe. I¡¯ll think on your words, but I¡¯m not one to mutiny lightly. Merrick¡¯s got a vision, and visions can be powerful things." Gilbert replied.

    "Powerful, aye, or deadly. Just remember, Gilb, a ship needs its helmsman to navigate stormy seas. Don''t wait ''til the gale''s upon us to pick your course." Roger stepped away, leaving Gilb to his thoughts. The sky was dimming to twilight now, and the deckhands were lighting the lanterns. The seeds of mutiny, which had been sown the night of the encounter with Jones, were being tended. Gilb was left to ponder the course of his life, and that of the ship. The ever uncertain winds of fate blew strong onboard the Tiderunner.

    Merrick awoke with a start. The ship was rocking and rolling, and the men on deck were shouting. Pistol shots rang out, and there was a low rumbling noise. Merrick jumped from his hammock and grabbed his effects. His cutlass, two pistols, and hat. He rushed out of his quarters, hastily affixing his arament to his garb.

    The sight on deck was pure chaos. A great tentacle was wrapped around the Tiderunner. Pirates were dangling in the air from various other appendages. Other sailors hacked desperately at the wriggling arms.

    "Blast it all, what in the name of the deep is goin'' on here?! Looks like we¡¯ve got ourselves a bit of calamari trouble, lads! Let¡¯s not be the main course, eh? Hack at those tentacles like your lives depend on it, because, well, they do!" Merrick shouted at his pirates.

    "Captain, this beast¡¯s got us in its grip! We need to free the ship before it drags us under!" Roger said as he cut through a writhing tentacle.

    "Aye, Roger! Aim for the eyes if you can spot ''em! And keep clear of the beak; it''s not in a friendly mood!" Merrick replied, firing a pistol at a tentacle.

    "This cursed thing¡¯s tougher than barnacle-crusted iron, Captain! We ain''t makin'' a dent!" another pirate shouted. It was Ken Withershanks, from Seasway. Merrick quite liked the young lad. He was frantically hacking at the largest tentacle with a boarding ax.

    "Keep at it, ye scallywags! The beast''ll tire before we do. Use the cannons if ye must! Grapeshot! Anything to loosen its grip!" Merrick shouted over the chaos of the battle. The ship creaked loudly as the tentacle seemed to pulsate with rage.

    "Gilbert, get to the helm and steer us clear once we¡¯re free! We need every hand on deck or we¡¯re done for!" Roger roared through gritted teeth, slicing through a tentacle.

    "Aye sir! I''ll have us out of here faster than a shark after chum, or a seagull before a storm!" Gilb replied, rushing for the wheel. It was spinning wildly as the leviathan squid pulled on the ship.

    The gunners had readied a single cannon. They loaded a charge and some grapeshot into the barrel.

    "Ready to fire Captain! Shall we blast the bloody beast?"

    "Fire away! Give that monstrosity a taste of iron! Aim true and don''t waste a shot!" Merrick commanded. The cannon roared and smoke blew across the deck. The small metal balls pierced through a large tentacle, sheering it off. It splashed into the water, and the beast let out a low haunting moan. Its remaining tentacles thrashed even more, but the main tentacle that had a grip on the ship started to slip.

    "It''s got me! For the love of the sea, help! screamed a pirate. His name was Ampthos Del, from Kyra''s End, Republic of Kyran.

    "Hold on, lad! I''ve got ye!" Merrick shouted as he aimed and fired his pistol. The bullet blasted through the tentacle, and Ampthos dropped to the deck. "There, back to the fight with ye!"

    "The beast is weakening! We might have a chance!" Roger panted, he was beat up. Blood leaked from his nose, and he was bruised all over his head. Despite that, he looked determined.

    "Good! Don''t let up now lads! Finish the beast or we''re squid bait!" Merrick yelled. The rest of the crew shouted back.

    "For the Tiderunner! For Freedom!"

    After several more minutes, and a few more cannon shots, the great beast let go, and retreated down into the depths. The Tiderunner was battered, but it held strong.

    The Bosun took account of the damage. Nothing was damaged more than it had previously been. A few more cracks in the gunwale, but otherwise, the vessel looked fine. The crew rallied around Merrick and cheered. His charismatic leadership was well received.

    Merrick noticed several of the crew, including Roger, sulking at the back of the gathering. He frowned for a split second, but regained his composure immediately. He could not afford to show any negative emotion during their triumph over the monstrous beast.

    That night, the Cook prepared the crew roasted squid, boiled squid, grilled squid. The tentacles that had remained on the deck made for a fine feast for the crew of the Tiderunner.

 The Murmuring of Men

    After several more days of sailing, the lookout in the crosstrees shouted "Land Ho!" as Nustar Island came into view.

    Merrick raised his spyglass and peered at the various ships coming and going from the island. Flags from all across Lyrea flew in these waters. Kyranian, Imperial, and Azonian flags were among the most common flags Merrick spotted. He also saw an Elven flag, which was very rare. Many were merchant vessels, or passenger ships on one of the trade routes. Rarely, there were naval ships patrolling the area, but since Nustar Island was not owned by any one nation, no navy had complete jurisdiction here. Still, pirates were not welcome.

    "Ah, Nustar Island. A haven of trade and treachery. Time to play the part of humble merchants, lads. Hide those pirate colors and bring out the finest fake goods we have!" Merrick said. He was leaning casually against the helm, a wide grin across his face. The anticipation of making port, getting supplies, and visiting the local tavern was almost too much.

    "Aye, Captain. We don¡¯t want to draw any unwanted attention. Best keep our blades hidden but ready. Gilb, take us in slow and steady." Roger replied, adjusting his coat.

    "Aye, Roger. Setting a course for the merchant docks. We¡¯ll blend in like a fish in a school." Gilb replied as he kept course.

    "Colors changed, Captain. No one¡¯ll be the wiser." said Ken Wittershanks, as he folded the black flag with the skull and crossbones and tucked it away into a sack. The new flag flying was that of the Kingdom of Azon.

    "Excellent! Remember, lads, we¡¯re traders of the finest silks and spices. Act the part¡ªlook respectable, or at least as respectable as you can manage. Roger, keep an eye out for any familiar faces who might spoil our little charade." Merrick winked as he addressed the crew. There weren''t many folks out there that would openly out them as Black Squids, but they did exist. All they needed was one day to resupply. As long as the authorities could be kept in the dark for one night, they would be fine.

    "We¡¯ll keep our heads down, but stay alert. Nustar¡¯s a hub for all sorts, and not all of ''em friendly." Roger nodded sternly.

    "What¡¯s our story, Captain? Should any of these traders get curious?" asked Ampthos. He was polishing a deck rail.

    "Ah, let¡¯s see¡­ We¡¯re humble merchants from Bayreach, come to trade fine silks and rare spices. We¡¯ve had a long, peaceful voyage with not a hint of trouble. Got it?" The crew nodded in acknowledgement to Merrick''s proposed guise.

    "Keep your wits about you, men. This place might not welcome pirates, but it¡¯s still filled with dangers. No drunken brawls or loose tongues." Roger said, as the ship neared the port. He was eyeing the busy docks, monitoring for potential threats.

    "Indeed, Roger. We¡¯ll be the very picture of decorum. Now, let¡¯s dock this fine vessel and see what fortunes await. And remember, lads, a smile and a silver tongue can work wonders. Sometimes more than a cutlass!" Merrick laughed.

    The ship coasted slowly into port, and Gilb expertly aligned her with the dock.

    "Ready to drop anchor!" He said.

    "Drop anchor and lower the gangplank! And let¡¯s make this the most profitable and uneventful port visit we¡¯ve ever had. Smooth sailing and sweet talking! We depart before first light." Merrick said with a flourish. The gangplank hit the dock with a wooden clack, and the pirates set foot on dry land for the first time in nearly a year.

    Merrick sauntered down the street, not a care in the world. He swayed, as if drunk, from the months spent on the open sea. He looked very clumsy. He had to raise his arms up to balance sometimes, which gave him a very distinct walk compared to the other folks around him.

    "Ah, the pub. Perfect." He said, as he rushed into a dirty looking dock bar. The interior was thick and hazy with smoke, and smelled of sweat and low tide. Merrick stumbled over to the bar.

    Rum, if you will, my good man!" Merrick requested of the tender. He slapped a few Azonian copper coins on the counter. The rum came quickly, and Merrick took several swigs from the brown bottle. As he turned around, a hard slap struck his cheek, and his whole head turned. He shook his head, and blinked several times. He touched the tender red cheek.

    "What in the blazes?!" He said as he turned to face his assaulter. It was a pretty woman. His heart sank.

    "You''ve a lot of nerve coming back round here, Derrek!" She shrieked at him. No one seemed to care however. Merrick tried to motion for her to quiet down.

    "Tethys, my dear... So good to see you." Merrick said in an exaggerated tone. He was, most certainly, not, happy to see her.

    "You''re a rat bastard Derrek! You belong at the bottom of the sea!" Tethys said, and then she picked up his bottle of rum, took a swig, and then splashed the rest all over Merrick''s coat. She turned sharply on her heels, and huffed out of the pub. Merrick sat there, empty bottle in hand, dripping rum. He blinked a few times, shrugged, then turned and ordered a new rum.

    Roger stalked the streets of the Port. He was trailed by several of the crew. All men he thought to be loyal to him over Merrick. The group turned down a deserted alleyway. Looking to ensure there were no prying eyes or listening ears, Roger opened up the conversation.

    "Right lads, we''ve a moment away from the ship. Now''s the time to speak our minds. We can''t let Merrick lead us into further peril. Who''s with me?" He said to the three other men.

    "Aye, Roger, ye¡¯ve got me ear. Merrick¡¯s a fine talker, but he¡¯s leadin¡¯ us to the depths. I¡¯ve seen too many cap¡¯ns with stars in their eyes and rocks in their heads. We need a steadier hand on the tiller." "Salty" Jeb Tyndall the cook, from Southland nodded fiercely, and grinned slyly.

    "Aye, Roger. The seas be filled with tales of men undone by their own ambitions. Merrick¡¯s got the look of one bound for such a fate. We need a captain with a sharper mind and a firmer grasp on reality." Tom Rooker, one of the gunners, said gripping his pistol with a sinister smile.

    "Merrick¡¯s charmin'' ways won¡¯t charm us out of Davy Jones¡¯s grip. We need to take control before he gets us all killed." replied Billy McGraw, the quartermaster leaning against a wall, twirling a knife in his fingers.

    "Good. We¡¯re agreed then. Merrick¡¯s lost his way, chasing legends and curses. We¡¯ve got to make our move before he leads us all to ruin." Roger said, looking each man in the eye. He knew these men could be trusted. He had sailed with them since the Tiderunner was "commissioned" by the Squids. Ramseys Singh assigned the whole crew of the Tiderunner to Captain Merrick, but times were changing.

    "How do ye propose we do it, Roger? We can¡¯t just slit his throat in his sleep. The crew¡¯ll need to see that he¡¯s lost their trust, and that you¡¯re the man to lead ''em." Jeb asked.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "Aye, Jeb, you¡¯ve got the right of it. We¡¯ll need to show the crew that Merrick¡¯s leading us to our doom. We use his obsession with the Light of the Sea against him. Let him dig his own grave." Roger said, nodding.

    "We start spreading word of his madness. Let the crew see the folly in his eyes, hear the fear in his voice. When the time¡¯s ripe, we strike." Tom''s voice dripped with venom. It was clear to Roger that this particular pirate was very upset with Merrick.

    "Aye, but what about them still loyal to Merrick? They won¡¯t take kindly to mutiny, even if it¡¯s for their own good." Jeb proposed. The question was important. They were four, and the crew was over a score of men. They had to convince them mutiny was the right course of action. Otherwise, Merrick would have the lot of the conspirators hanged.

    "We handle them swiftly and decisively. Gilbert¡¯s the key. He¡¯s loyal but practical. If we can turn him, the others will follow. We also need to focus on the Bosun." Roger said. He had already tried to approach Gilb once, but perhaps with the rumors they would spread, the old helmsman would be easier to convince.

    "And if they won¡¯t turn?" asked Billy.

    "Then they¡¯ll join Merrick in the deep. We can¡¯t afford half-measures. It¡¯s our lives at stake." Roger said coldly.

    "When do we move?" Asked Tom.

    "We¡¯ll let Merrick lead us to the Light of the Sea. Once we¡¯ve secured it, that¡¯s when we strike. Be ready, and keep your wits about you. The time for action is close at hand." Roger said.

    "Aye, by the Powers, that''s right. But what of Davy Jones, eh? The cursed sea devil ain''t gonna let us slip by so easy. We need a way to fend him off, or we''re all for the locker." Jeb asked, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

    "Jones''ll come for us, no doubt. What''s yer plan, Roger? We ain''t lookin'' to be part of his ghostly crew." Billy asked.

    "I''ve thought about that these past days. We return to Libertalia. Captain Singh and his fleet are our only hope against Jones¡¯s cursed crew. We use the Light of the Sea as a bargaining chip. We offer it to Singh in exchange for his support." Roger said, leaning closer to Jeb.

    "You think Singh¡¯ll go for that? He¡¯s a hard man to bargain with." Retorted Tom, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

    "Singh''s ambitious. The Light of the Sea could solidify his power, maybe even make him the ruler he wants to be. He won¡¯t pass up the chance to gain control over the seas and weather. And we? We gain his fleet''s might against Jones." Roger said.

    "Now that¡¯s a plan I can get behind. Fight fire with fire, and use Jones¡¯s own weapon against him." Billy grinned.

    "Sounds risky, but no more than followin'' Merrick into the jaws of doom. Alright, Roger, you¡¯ve got my support. We just need to make sure the crew sees the sense in it." Jeb replied, nodding slowly, his sly grin returning.

    "They will, Jeb. Once they see the danger Merrick¡¯s leading us into, they¡¯ll have no choice but to follow me. We take the ship, secure the Light, and bargain with the Black Squids. It¡¯s our only chance." Roger said. "Merrick will be given the Black Spot as soon as we have the Light in our possession."

    The group nodded, and they dispersed separately away from the dank alleyway. Roger had a pang of guilt, plotting against Merrick, but he quickly dispelled it. He and Merrick had sailed many voyages, and taken many prizes, but Davy Jones was not something to mess with, and Merrick almost cost the whole crew their lives. Roger nodded to himself, reassuring himself that he was doing the right thing.

    Merrick stumbled out of the pub hours later. He swayed unsteadily on his feet. The empty bottle in his hand clattered to the ground as he shambled off. He wandered aimlessly down the quiet streets. By now, even the drunkest sailors were passed out. Merrick passed several sleeping in heaps of trash or even just face down in the roadside ditches.

    As Merrick walked, he heard someone beckoning to him. A gruff voice, that seemed to chew on the words it spoke, called to him.

    "Captain Merrick Draven!" It called. Merrick wandered over to a large hovel, in between two buildings. Incense hazed the air around the hovel''s entrance. Merrick entered, and saw a medium sized Carcharia, adorned with all manner of dried sea life, sitting on the floor. Hookahs and incense sticks spewed fragrant smoke, making the hovel smell like a driftwood fire. Merrick sat down across from the Carcharian. The shark-folk were always interesting to Merrick.

    "Captain Merrick Draven. The tides have brought you to my doorstep. There are things you must hear." the Carcharian said.

    "Well, well, what do we have here? A mystic with a penchant for pirate tales? I do enjoy a good yarn." Merrick slurred.

    "The waves whisper of your fate, and it is not one of glory but of darkness. You tread a path that leads to the abyss, where Davy Jones awaits your soul." the mystic shark-folk said.

    "Aye, the old sea devil himself. Seems everyone''s got an interest in my affairs these days." Merrick laughed.

    "You are on a path to fail, Captain. Your soul bound to the depths, your fate sealed in the grip of the Mariner. But there is a chance, a sliver of hope to change your stars." the mystic said, leaning closer. His eyes glittered with ancient knowledge.

    "Oh? And what might that be, old sage? A magic potion? A spell?" Merrick asked, raising an eyebrow, intrigued despite his drunken state.

    "No potion, no spell. This compass, Captain, is what you seek. It points to what you desire most, but be warned¡ªeach use takes a piece of your soul." The Carcharian mystic reached into a chest and produced a weathered old compass, adorned with ornate tentacles and other sea life.

    "A cursed compass, eh? Always loved a bit of cursed treasure. But what¡¯s the catch, Wise One? There¡¯s always a catch." Merrick asked, taking the compass and peering at it curiously.

    "The catch is your very essence, Captain. Each use will draw you closer to the abyss. But with it, you may find the means to defeat Davy Jones, to turn the tides of fate in your favor." the mystic said, nodding solemnly.

    "Defeat Jones, you say? Tempting... very tempting. But why help me? What¡¯s in it for you?" Merrick swayed slightly, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

    "Davy Jones is a blight upon the seas, a curse that threatens all who sail. He upsets the balance of nature, and the recycling of souls.I wish to see his reign ended, his soul returned to the deep. You are the key, Captain, if you can wield the compass and survive its toll. Those who use the compass, often go mad as their soul fractures. Only those who truly know what it is they want, and what needs to be done to atone for those desires survive its price" The Carcharia sighed with the weight of this ancient sorrow and knowledge.

    "Aye, a fair trade then. A bit of my soul for a shot at glory. What¡¯s a pirate without a bit of risk?" Merrick replied, with a lopsided grin.

    "Take the compass, Captain. Use it wisely. The path ahead is treacherous, and your sanity is the price. But with courage and cunning, you may yet turn the tide." The mystic placed a clawed, webbed, hand on Merrick''s. He looked gravely at the Pirate Captain.

    "Well, here¡¯s to high stakes and higher rewards. May the sea favor the bold, eh?" Merrick said, standing up. He clutched the compass as we swayed unsteadily on his feet.

    "May the sea watch over you, Captain. For you sail towards destiny, and only time will tell if you conquer it or are consumed by it." The mystic said, as Merrick sauntered out of the hovel.

    Merrick stumbled down the street, heading back to the Tiderunner. Daylight would soon be arriving, and he needed to be back before first light. He looked at the compass. It was quite intricate looking. The case was covered in strange symbols, of no language he was familiar with. Tentacles, crabs, fish, and other strange lifeforms encircled the round cover. He thought about opening the compass, but a strange feeling came over him. "My soul? Pieces?" He thought. He flipped it open, and the needle spun wildly around. He took his normal compass out and opened it. When his new compass settled, it did indeed point in a different direction than his regular compass. It was pointing in the direction of the Shark Islands. He snapped the compass shut and stuffed it hastily into his pocket. He didn''t feel any different, but tonight, he would not risk anything in excess.

    He made it back onboard the Tiderunner, along with a few other straggling pirates. He checked with the Bosun, and ensured the resupply went well. Then, he roused the crew, even in his drunken state, to make way. It was time to head to Mao Shar.

 A Tempest of Tension

    Merrick stood on the quarterdeck as the pirates worked.

    "All hands, prepare to make sail! Weigh anchor and stow it proper!" He shouted over the din of the footsteps, ropes, and luffing of sails.

    "You heard the captain! Heave away on the capstan, lads! Put your backs into it!" The bosun echoed. His name was Samuel Hartley, from Bay Reach.

    Merrick chanced a look at his new compass. The heading was south by southwest. The same heading he plotted for Mao Shar. This must be the right direction, he thought. He knew, somehow, that he was on the right course for the Light of the Sea. Afterall, that was what he wanted most.

    "Mr. Gilb, set our course three degrees south-southwest! We''ve a long journey ahead and not a moment to lose!" He said, nodding to Mr. Gilb. By now they had cleared the docks, and were making their way west, out from the shallows that surrounded Nustar Island.

    "Aye, Captain! Three degrees south-southwest it is!" Mr. Gilb replied, turning the wheel to adjust for the ship''s heading.

    "Mr. Rooker, unfurl the mainsail and the topsails! I want every scrap of canvas catching the wind!" Merrick ordered.

    "Aye, Captain! You heard ''im, lads! Hoist the mainsail and let the topsails fly!" Tom nodded, and gathered some pirates to help with his assigned work.

    "Cook, make sure the galley¡¯s ready. We¡¯ve no time for a hungry crew, and see that the fresh supplies are stowed proper!" Merrick ordered Jeb.

    "Aye, Cap¡¯n! By thunder, we''ll have a feast fit for gentlemen of fortune!" Jeb responded. No hint of animosity in his voice. He was the picture of an eager, loyal pirate.

    "And watch those hawsers! We don¡¯t want ''em fouling in the lines. Clear the decks and stand ready to trim sail as needed!" Merrick said to the crew at large. The deck was looking a bit messy, and that was a hazard to men and efficient work.

    "Aye, Captain! You heard ''im, lads! Clear those hawsers and keep the decks tidy!" the bosun replied.

    Merrick addressed the crew at large once more. He stood with an air of confidence about him. He held his right arm up, forefinger touching his thumb, and swayed with the motion of the deck. He looked much more graceful aboard the ship. The cursed compass hung off his jacket, visible to those who knew to look for it.

    "Right, ye scallywags! We¡¯ve a fair wind and a clear course. Let¡¯s make the most of it and keep a sharp eye out for trouble. We¡¯re bound for the Shark Islands, and I want no slackers aboard my ship! Move lively now! Let''s put some distance between us and Nustar! And remember, lads, keep your eyes peeled and your wits about ye. There¡¯s more than just the sea that threatens us on this voyage!"

    "You heard the captain! Let¡¯s make this a smooth departure and stay sharp. We¡¯ve a long way to go and plenty to face along the way." Roger added.

    The ship made great time, and soon Nustar Island was a dot on the horizon. They were safe from the navies of the world out here. The Tiderunner was fast enough to outrun any navy ship, save for an Imperial Man O War, but those were not likely to be seen in the western Cerulean Sea.

    Merrick felt a little off, however. He blinked and tried to pinpoint the feelings he was experiencing. A mixture of elation and despair. It was a strange flavor, he had never tasted.

    "Odd..." He thought. Was this the effect of the compass? He shook his head and cleared his mind. The feeling faded away, and he regained his confidence and bravado once more. He returned to his quarters to ensure his heading, and look over his charts and maps.

    A knock came at the door. Merrick bolted upright, from his hunched position, reading the maps. What could this be? Roger''s betrayal at hand?

    "Cap''n, it''s Gilb and the Bosun. We need a word." Mr. Gilbs voice whispered quietly through the heavy oak doors.

    "Come in, lads. Door¡¯s open." Merrick replied, tensing up. What could these two want? Gilb and Sam entered. They looked like their normal selves, and not like blood thirsty mutineers.

    "Cap''n, there¡¯s murmurings amongst the crew. They¡¯re restless after Nustar, and the encounter with Jones has ¡®em spooked." The Helmsman said.

    "Aye, Cap''n. There¡¯s talk of dark omens and curses. They¡¯re lookin¡¯ to you for answers, and I reckon some aren¡¯t too pleased with what they¡¯re hearin''." Samuel added.

    "Aye, I¡¯ve heard the whispers. The sea¡¯s a cruel mistress, and men will talk. What¡¯s your take on it, lads?" Merrick sat back in his chair and peered cautiously at the two. His fingers were steepled, and he looked rather relaxed given the circumstances.

    "Truth be told, Cap''n, some of the men are lookin'' to Roger for guidance. They think he¡¯s got a steadier hand for these troubled waters." Gilb said, he looked disheartened to even bring this topic up.

    "But there¡¯s those of us still loyal to ye, Cap''n. We¡¯ve sailed through worse, and we¡¯ll see this through. But we need to know what you¡¯re plannin''. The men need to believe there¡¯s more than just blind luck at play." Samuel added quickly.

    "Blind luck¡¯s done us well enough so far, hasn¡¯t it? But I hear ye. We¡¯re headed for the Shark Islands, seeking the Light of the Sea. A treasure worth any risk, and one that¡¯ll see us all rich beyond measure." Merrick smirked.

    "Aye, but the crew needs more than promises of gold. They need to know we¡¯re not sailin'' straight into the jaws of death." Gilb replied, shifting slightly where he stood.

    Merrick looked serious for a moment, before leaning forward.

    "Every voyage carries its risks, Gilb. But I have a plan, one that¡¯ll keep us clear of Jones and his damned crew. Trust me as you always have, and we¡¯ll see this through."

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    "Aye, Cap''n. We trust ye, but we need to keep the men in line. Roger¡¯s whispers are poison. We need to cut ''em off at the root." Samuel responded. Merrick thought both of these men looked honest. His gut feeling said he could trust them. They were on his side in this mess.

    "Leave Roger to me. I¡¯ve dealt with his kind before. Just keep the crew focused and ready. We¡¯ll be needin'' every hand sharp and every mind clear for what¡¯s ahead." Merrick reassured them.

    "Understood, Cap''n. We¡¯ll keep things steady on deck. Just give us the word, and we¡¯ll do our part." Mr. Gilb replied, smiling at Merrick.

    "Good. Now, let¡¯s see to it that our voyage to Mao Shar is swift and smooth. Dismissed." Merrick said, and he waved the two off. As they left the cabin, he sat back and smiled to himself. Roger hadn''t gotten to the two most influential people on his crew, besides the First Mate himself. The question was... Who had he gotten to already?

    Roger Allerday and a group of his followers crowded around a dark corner of the focsle. The smell of salt water and sweat filled the stale air. The ship rocked gently with the swells. Billy, Rooker, Ampthos, and Ken were gathered with Roger.

    "Lads, it¡¯s plain to see the Cap¡¯n¡¯s lost his way. Chasing after legends and curses while we¡¯re the ones payin'' the price. Ken, Ampthos, you¡¯ve seen the madness with your own eyes. What say you?" Roger asked the two younger pirates.

    "Merrick¡¯s a madcap, sure, but he¡¯s led us through tight spots before. What makes ye think mutiny¡¯s the answer?" Replied Ken, hesitantly.

    Tom Rooker leaned in closer to Ken.

    "It¡¯s different, Ken. We¡¯re not just facing mortal danger. We¡¯re facing Davy Jones himself. And for what? Some fairy tale? The Black Squids don¡¯t risk their necks for legends; we¡¯re in it for real gains." He said, frowning seriously.

    "Listen, lads. We¡¯re part of the Black Squids. Captain Singh and the fleet¡¯ll back us if we bring them the Light of the Sea. We won¡¯t be just followin'' Merrick¡¯s folly; we¡¯ll be securing our future." Billy chimed in.

    "And what if the Light¡¯s just another tale? We mutiny and find nothin¡¯? We¡¯d be traitors without a cause." Asked Ampthos, skeptical of the ideas being presented.

    "The Light of the Sea is real. Merrick¡¯s gamble with Jones proves it. And think, lads¡ªcontrol over the seas and weather. Captain Singh will see the value in that. We bring him the Light, and we secure our place in the Black Squids. We¡¯d be heroes, not traitors." responded Roger firmly.

    "Aye, but how do we know Singh¡¯ll back us? Merrick¡¯s always been tight with the fleet." asked Ken, he seemed the more skeptical of the two in Roger''s eyes.

    "Merrick¡¯s tight with Singh, but Singh values power and loyalty above all. If we bring him the Light of the Sea, we¡¯ll have both. Merrick¡¯s lost his way, and it¡¯s time for new leadership." Rooker responded.

    "We¡¯ve all seen the Cap¡¯n¡¯s obsession. It¡¯s a danger to us all. The Black Squids are about survival and profit. This? This is madness. Singh will see it our way." Billy said, almost as if to convince himself more than the two younger pirates.

    "Aye, I¡¯ve no love for Merrick¡¯s wild chases. But I¡¯ll not turn on a cap¡¯n without cause. Show me this Light, and you¡¯ve got my sword." Ampthos said hesitantly.

    "That¡¯s all we ask, Ampthos. When we make for Mao Shar, stay sharp. When the time comes, we¡¯ll make our move. For now, spread the word. We need every man ready when it counts." Said Roger, nodding and clapping Ampthos on the shoulder.

    Ken Withershanks frowned slightly.

    "I''m not sure... I think Merrick deserves a chance." He said.

    "That''s your call, Ken. Just don''t wait for the storm to come callin'' before finding the right port to moor in." Replied Roger, ominously. "Now, keep it quiet, and keep it steady. When the moment''s right, Merrick won''t know what hit him. For our future lads."

    With that, the group dispersed. Before Ken left, Roger pulled him aside by the arm. Ken looked down at Roger''s grasp and frowned slightly.

    "I know you¡¯re torn, lad. Merrick¡¯s been a good cap¡¯n in the past, but think of the future. Think of what happens if we fail to act." Roger said, lowering his voice.

    "I know, but mutiny... it¡¯s a heavy step, Roger." Ken said. He strained against Roger''s tightened grip, but did not try to break free.

    "Aye, it is. But sometimes the heaviest steps are the ones that save our necks. Don¡¯t let misplaced loyalty blind you to the truth. We need a leader who¡¯ll take us to safety, not into the jaws of death." Roger retorted.

    "I¡¯ll think on it, Roger. I just need more time." Ken sighed.

    "There''s a good lad. Don''t wait to long though, time is a luxury we don''t have in great supply. Just be ready when the moment comes. We''re counting on you." Roger said, as he released Ken''s arm. The two men left the focsle, Ken rubbing his arm and looking thoughtful.

    In the galley, Jeb Tyndall stood above the range, stirring a huge iron pot. The smell of salted pork and boiled vegetables mixed with the heavy odor of fresh fish and alcohol.  The galley was dimly lit, yet cozy in its appearance. For a pirate ship, it was well kept, a clear sign that Jeb did not like disorganization.  Two newer crew mates sat at a table, playing a game of cards.

    "Look at you two, enjoin'' a bit of leisure while ol'' Salty Jeb''s slavin'' away over the cookpot. A fine life eh? But tell me, gents, how''re ye finding the Tiderunner so far?" The old cook asked, sly as ever.

    Jacob Thatcher looked up and smiled at Jeb. He was from Vulrandgrad, the capital of the Kingdom of Azon.

    "Aye Salty Jeb, she''s a good ship. A sturdy vessel no doubt. She has spirit." He said.

    "Jake''s right. She''s a good ship. The crew though, they seem a bit... divided if ye catch my drift." Finn O''Malley added. Finn O''Malley was from the independent city-state of Golav¡¯r Llevad, where the wizards and witches of the Ars Notoria kept court. Jeb was cautious of that one.

    "Divided, ye say? Now that¡¯s interestin''. And what about you two? Where do your loyalties lie, eh?" Jeb asked, raising an eyebrow.

    "Well, Salty Jeb, we¡¯re new to the crew, as ye know. Just findin'' our sea legs, as it were. But a ship¡¯s only as good as her cap¡¯n, they say. And Merrick... well, he¡¯s got a way about him." Jake said hesitantly.

    "True enough. But there¡¯s talk below decks, Jeb. Some say Merrick¡¯s leadin'' us into the maw of madness. Others say he¡¯s got a plan. Hard to know who to trust, aye?" added Finn.

    "Aye, by thunder, it¡¯s a tricky spot we¡¯re in. Gentlemen of fortune like ourselves, we¡¯ve got to pick our sides wisely. Merrick¡¯s a madcap, sure, but he¡¯s seen us through tight spots. Then there¡¯s Roger, steady as they come, but with a glint in his eye." Jeb replied with a pensive nod.

    "So, Salty Jeb, where do you stand? Ye¡¯ve been with Merrick a long time, haven¡¯t ye?" Jake asked.

    "Aye, that I have. But a wise man keeps his options open, eh? Just keep your ears open and your wits sharp. The sea¡¯s a fickle mistress, and fortunes can change with the tide." Jeb answered, grinning slyly.

    "And if the tide turns, Jeb? What then?" Finn asked, eyeing the old cook suspiciously.

    "If the tide turns, lads, best be on the right side of it. Merrick¡¯s got his charms, but Roger¡¯s got a plan. Weigh your choices carefully, and remember¡ªloyalty¡¯s a fine thing, but survival¡¯s finer." Jeb said, leaning over his cookpot, and returning the suspicious gaze.

    "Aye, we¡¯ll keep that in mind, Salty Jeb. Thanks for the advice." Jake answered, after a long tense moment.

    "Good lads. Look at ye, smart as paint! Now, finish up your game and get ready for supper. We¡¯ve got a long journey ahead, and a well-fed crew¡¯s a happy crew." Jeb smiled coyly. He returned to his cooking.

 The Tongue of the Tau

    The journey to the Tongue of the Ocean was tense, but uneventful. Neither side of the crew made any further moves to harm the other. Roger kept his eyes peeled for recruits to his cause, and approached several other sailors, to include Averill Ethel from Cloudstrand, Iwaki Yorikazu from Sobetsu, Aldwin "Fishy" Smith from Waveward, and Shandy Gail of Lost Hills.

    Meanwhile, Merrick kept a watchful gaze upon the doings of Roger and his ilk. Gilb and Samuel reported to him often, the things they heard. He felt like he was well informed on the traitors among his crew. What to do about them though, he hadn''t decided. He needed them to man the ship through the Tongue of the Ocean. He needed them to trek across Mao Shar and retrieve the Light of the Sea. They were also a liability. They could strike at any moment, leaving him and his loyal pirates high and dry. At worst, they would take the ship and kill him and any pirates still loyal to him. At best, they would resist his efforts at every turn and make it harder to retrieve the Light.

    The heat on deck was intense. The tropical sun shone bright and hot as the Tiderunner made for the Tongue of the Ocean. Merrick checked and rechecked his charts. He had never been to Mao Shar, but he had been to the Shark Islands several times. He was known to the Rakahanga Tribe there, and would sometimes hide out when the Cerulean Sea was hot with the long arm of the law. Not many naval or even merchant vessels plied these waters. The occasional slaver might be found down here, looking for Carcharians to take back to Azon or Venia, but the Shark-Folk were not to be trifled with lightly. Those slavers made for great cannon practice. Merrick and the Tiderunner had sunk a few in their day. This made the Tiderunner a welcome sight in the Shark Islands.

    It wouldn''t be long now, before the ship made landfall in Mao Shar. They just had to navigate the Tongue. This was a notoriously difficult stretch of ocean to pass. The swells could be unpredictable, and rogue waves of immense height could sometimes take a ship to the bottom. Not only that, but the charts and maps were incomplete here. Shallow shoals, atolls, and reefs were hidden between the deep channels. The sailing here was technical, and took great skill. Merrick, was an experienced captain, and his crew tried and true. Despite the mutiny brewing.

    When the seas were calm, the heat was intense. Often when the heat rose, the wind died. This caused many ships to flounder about in the waves, waiting for a good wind to pick up. This was the Tiderunner''s current problem. The wind was dying down, and the heat was going up.

    "Mr. Gilb, keep a sharp eye on that horizon. We need to spot any sign of a breeze or a change in the weather. Report anything that looks promising!" Merrick said.

    "Aye, Captain! I¡¯ll not let a ripple pass unnoticed." Mr. Gilb replied.

    "Roger, get the longboats ready. If we can¡¯t sail, we¡¯ll row. We¡¯re not sitting ducks out here. Ready the men for a bit of muscle work!" Merrick commanded. Roger gave him a quick look, but obeyed.

    "Aye, Captain! You heard ''im, lads! Lower the longboats and prepare to row! We¡¯ll make headway one way or another!" He directed the sailors. The crew groaned collectively at the thought of manually rowing. When the wind was dead, and the ship needed to keep going, they would lower the two longboats on the Tiderunner and row the ship from the smaller boats. It was backbreaking labor, and it only kept the ship slugging along. It was still better than roasting on deck in the doldrums.

    "And keep those spirits up! A song or two wouldn¡¯t go amiss. We¡¯ve a treasure ahead, and doldrums or no, we¡¯ll make it. Sing out, and let¡¯s make the waves echo with our defiance!" Merrick shouted, trying to keep the men in high spirits.

    The pirates began singing a shanty:

    "Row, ye brave, and row with might,

    Through the doldrums, day and night,

    For the ship¡¯s bound to sail,

    With the wind or without fail."

    "That¡¯s the spirit! Keep at it, lads! Every stroke gets us closer to that breeze!" Shouted Merrick. He smiled as a semblance of normalcy returned to his crew. He quite missed the days before there were mutinous thoughts poisoning his crew.

    After hours of toiling in the hot sun, the heat began to die down, and the breeze once more picked up.

    "Hold fast, lads! Feel that? The wind¡¯s picking up! Belay the oars, raise the longboats, and ready the sails!" Merrick shouted as the wind returned.

    "You heard the Captain! Stow the oars and prepare to catch the wind!" Samuel echoed.

    The crew quickly set to work, raising the longboats, stowing the oars, and readying the sails. The sound of men working brought feelings of calm excitement to Merrick. They were not long for Mao Shar now. The breeze was stronger now.

    "Lively now, lads! Trim those sails and let¡¯s fly like a seabird on the wing!" Samuel shouted over the din of the work and the luffing of the sails.

    The ship was now entering the Tongue of the Ocean. Already, Merrick could see small islands in the distance through his spyglass. A few more days, and they would be in Mao Shar.

    "Alright, lads, we¡¯re approachin'' the Tongue of the Ocean. Keep those eyes sharp and your wits sharper. The Shark Islands are no place for the faint-hearted." Merrick warned the crew. Many ships have sunk in this part of the ocean. The seafloor was littered with wrecks.

    "Aye, Cap¡¯n! Look alive, lads! We¡¯re in for a tricky bit of navigatin''. Mind those reefs and keep a weather eye out for submerged rocks!" Samuel reaffirmed.

    "Steerin'' steady, Cap¡¯n. Course laid in true. But these waters... they¡¯ve a mind of their own." Gilb added. He had a look of stern determination on his face as he gripped the wheel tightly.

    "That they do, Mr. Gilb. That they do. Mr. Thatcher, get the lead line ready. We¡¯ll need to sound the depths as we go. Last thing we need is to run aground on a hidden shoal."

    "Aye, Cap¡¯n! Lead line¡¯s ready. We¡¯ll keep a close watch on the soundings." Jacob Thatcher replied, hauling a large coil of rope.

    "By the powers, these waters¡¯ll eat a ship whole if ye ain¡¯t careful. Keep yer ears open and your hands steady, gents. No tellin'' what¡¯s lurkin'' beneath." Jeb remarked, as he helped haul lines.

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    "True enough, Jeb. The Carcharia aren¡¯t known for their hospitality, neither. Keep a weather eye on the horizon for any unwelcome guests." Merrick instructed. The crew was familiar with Carcharia. Despite the Tiderunner''s welcome presence in the Shark Islands, not all of the tribes liked humans. Many of the smaller tributary tribes would happily attack a ship and eat her sailors, no matter the ship''s purpose.

    "Lookout, keep your eyes peeled for breakers! We need to spot those shallows before they spot us." Samuel shouted to the crow''s nest. Finn O''Malley responded with a quick "Aye!" and raised his spyglass to the horizon.

    The whole crew was ready to change course, and ready the ship for emergency maneuvers if required. Any moment the sounding could show shallow waters. The ship was hurtling fast down the channel now. Gulls laughed in the air above the deck, seeming to mock the sailors on board, and their feeble attempts to master nature. One sailor pitched an empty bottle at the birds.

    "To hell with ye flyin'' rats!" He shouted. The crew laughed heartily.

    "Easy does it, lads. We¡¯re not in the clear yet. Mr. Gilb, keep her steady as she goes. Follow that channel like it¡¯s the last drink in a dry port." Merrick reminded the crew.

    Aye, Cap¡¯n. Steady as she goes. We¡¯ll thread this needle yet." Mr. Gilb replied.

    "Soundings show shallow waters ahead, Cap¡¯n. We¡¯ll need to steer clear of that reef." Jacob Thatcher shouted.

    "Mr. Gilb, adjust our heading two points to port. Let¡¯s give that reef a wide berth." Merrick commanded. He was confident, and charismatic. The crew seemed very much to hang on his every order. Not a sign of resistance from the mutineers reared its ugly head.

    Two points to port, aye, Cap¡¯n. Adjustin'' course." Mr. Gilb replied, turning the wheel a few pegs to Port.

    "And mind the rudder, Mr. Gilb. These currents¡¯ll play tricks on you if you¡¯re not careful." Merrick warned. Mr. Gilb nodded several times. He was visibly fighting with the wheel.

    "Good man. And remember, lads, we¡¯ve got a prize waiting on the other side of these islands. The Light of the Sea is within our grasp. We just need to get there in one piece." Merrick shouted to the crew, hoping to capitalize on their seeming excitement.

    "Aye, Cap¡¯n, and we¡¯ll do just that. By thunder, there¡¯s no wave or rock that¡¯ll stop us. Gentlemen o'' fortune, we are, and fortune favors the bold." The old cook responded. The crew gave a hearty cheer at his words.

    The sailing was tense, and the ship had several close calls, but after a few hours, she was clear of the Tongue of the Ocean. The crew relaxed as the wind was steady, and the weather fair. It was late afternoon by the time they were fully in the waters of the Shark Islands. The ship was sailing smoothly, and the crew could see many small islands, cays, and atolls. Sometimes, smoke rose from those islands, indicating a Carcharian village.

    The Tiderunner did not move through the Shark Islands unnoticed.

    "Cap''n! Carcharia in the water off the starboard bow! Swimming fast toward us!" shouted Finn.

    "Hold steady, lads. We¡¯ve got company. Let¡¯s see what these shark-folk have to say for themselves. Stay your blades and pistols, for now!" Merrick ordered. The Carcharians were not always ruthless bloodthirsty monsters, and Merrick knew better than to antagonize them without cause. He wanted to see if this particular tribe was friendly or not. Perhaps they could help him with the Light of the Sea.

    The Carcharians made it to the Tiderunner and effortlessly climbed aboard. Most were larger than the pirates, but some of the shark-folk were human sized or even shorter. They were a motley bunch. Their appearances ranged from Mako sharks, Tiger sharks, Hammerheads, and more exotic species, such as Zebra sharks. Merrick thought they looked like those sharks, just with arms and legs, and standing upright. They wore simple clothing and armor made from special seaweed fabric, bones, and shells. They all had spears or tridents made from driftwood and shark''s teeth. Some had large paddle-like clubs studded with teeth.

    Their leader was a tall Tiger shark looking creature. His snout was crisscrossed with scars, and his stripes were starkly dark compared to the gray of the rest of his body. He wore a necklace of shark''s teeth around his broad neck. His black eyes glinted with predatory intelligence.

    "I am Torga, Chieftain of the Ta''u Tribe. You sail through our waters. what are you doing here, land-dwellers?"

    "Ah, Chieftain Torga, a pleasure. We¡¯re but humble traders and explorers, seeking to exchange goods and information. In particular, we¡¯ve heard tales of the Light of the Sea and the island of Mao Shar. We wish to learn more of these things." Merrick said with a flourishing bow.

    "The Light of the Sea is a dangerous quest, Captain. Mao Shar is treacherous, and many have perished seeking its secrets. Why do you pursue such peril?" Torga replied coolly.

    "Dangerous, yes, but what treasure worth having isn¡¯t? We¡¯re a bold crew, and the promise of the Light is too grand to ignore. Perhaps we might exchange some fine goods for the knowledge you hold?" Merrick responded with a sly grin.

    "Your goods matter little if they lead you to your doom. Mao Shar is a place of death. We, the Ta''u, avoid it. But tell me, Captain, why are you truly here?" The Carcharian was perceptive. More than Merrick had initially thought.

    "Straight to the point, eh? Very well. We seek the Light of the Sea not just for its value, but to aid in our struggle against a foe most dire. Have you heard of Davy Jones?" Merrick asked.

    The gathered Carcharians murmured under their breath at the mention of Davy Jones.

    "Davy Jones... the Ghost of the Depths. We know of him. He is a curse upon the seas. Why do you speak of him?" Torga said with a grave tone in his voice. It was clear to Merrick that the Ta''u Tribe had some encounter with Davy Jones.

    "Because, Chieftain, Davy Jones hunts us. We¡¯ve had a close encounter with him, and we aim to end his reign of terror. The Light of the Sea may be our only hope to vanquish this ghostly fiend. We need your help to reach Mao Shar, and in return, we offer goods and a promise to rid the seas of this spectral scourge." Merrick replied.

    "You speak boldly, Captain. The Ghost of the Depths is a formidable foe. Many have tried and failed to end his curse. Yet, if you seek to bring an end to his terror, we will aid you, but know this: the Ta''u will not set fin on Mao Shar or venture too close. We will guide you, but the final steps are yours alone." Torga said, nodding over his shoulder to his assembled tribe mates.

    "Fair enough, Chieftain. We¡¯re prepared to face whatever dangers await. In exchange for your guidance, we offer these goods: fine silks, spices, and weapons of Azonian make. What say you?" Merrick offered. He wanted to swindle the Shark-Folk, but he knew better than to lie, cheat, or steal from them. A pirate he may be, but he was no fool. The Carcharia were well known for biting people in half for a mere insult.

    A few of the pirates rushed up from below deck, carrying a box containing some silks, spices, and cutlasses. Torga and the rest of the Ta''u tribe peered at the offerings.

    "These are worthy offerings. We accept your trade. We will guide you to the edge of Mao Shar." Torga said, as one of his tribe members lifted the crate that took two pirates to haul. "We leave at dawn. Prepare your ship, Captain Draven. The waters around Mao Shar are treacherous, and the dangers are many. May your courage be true."

    Torga turned to go, and before any of the Tiderunner''s crew knew it, the shark-folk had disappeared beneath the waves.

    "Alright lads, we''ve got mooring to do. Mr. Gib, guide us to that islet over there. We''ll drop anchor and wait the night out. When the Ta''u are ready, we will make sail for Mao Shar." Merrick flourished his hands wildly, excitement filling his voice. They were almost there. Almost had the Light of the Sea in the cargo hold, but Mao Shar was sounding dangerous. He couldn''t get too excited. He felt that sense of dread induced euphoria again. His compass had been pointing to Mao Shar the whole time, and it continued to now.

    The ship dropped anchor just off the island. Some pirates went ashore to make a camp. Soon a roaring bonfire was raging, and pirates were singing and dancing, and drinking rum. Tomorrow, their fortunes were going to change. Some thought by the Light of the Sea. Others, by a new Captain...

 Mao Shar

    Dawn broke with the cry of seabirds and the soft lapping of waves against the sandy shore of the small island the Tiderunner was moored near. Merrick sat up from the sand he was laying in. He coughed and brushed himself off before fully waking up. He stood up clumsily, and swaggered toward the longboat.

    "Get up ye scabrous dogs! Today''s the day!" He shouted as he kicked sand on a few sleeping pirates nearby. He rushed to the longboat, and waved for the others to follow him

    Once the hungover pirates were all back aboard the Tiderunner, Merrick noticed a lone Carcharia already standing on the quarter deck.

    "I am Kaimano. I will be guiding you to Mao Shar, but I will not be joining you there. Once we are within sight of the island, I will depart." The Bull Shark looking Carharia said, in a voice as salty and smooth as the very ocean water they sailed upon.

    "Right, hop to lads! Time to make for Mao Shar! Weigh anchor and let the sails fly free!" Merrick shouted. Soon the ship was underway, cutting a path for Mao Shar, and destiny.

    "Gather ''round, ye land-dwellers, and hear the tale of Mao Shar, the island shrouded in legend and dread. Long ago, our tribe faced a darkness that threatened to consume us all. It was a time of heroes, of battles fought in the shadows and secrets unearthed from the depths." Kaimano shouted, as the ship was fully underway.

    Merrick was curious. He motioned for the crew to gather round. He noticed Roger and a cluster of his "allies" huddled on the outskirts of the group. There were maybe ten all told, which sank Merrick''s heart. His crew was numbered around thirty souls, and a third of them willing to side with Roger would be a legitimate threat. He would wait to see how this played out though.

    "The Light of the Sea is the heart of this tale. That is what you all seek. A long time ago, when the Tidesinger Vakt and Wave Caller Tuala led our people against an unspeakable evil. They, along with a band of brave warriors, sought to lift the curse that had befallen Mao Shar. The curse of Fthaganan, an eldritch entity from the darkest depths. It began with strange visions and omens. Mrrgwar, our elder, saw the Red Pearl surrounded by death, and the Stone that guarded a gate against the tides. But it was the insidious laughter of pale, glassy-eyed faces that haunted our dreams the most. The Ta''u heroes set out to discover the truth behind the curse. In their journey, they encountered cultists, abominations, and sea hags who sought to summon Fthaganan and bring about our doom. With courage and the Light of the Sea, it was Tuala who, in a vision, saw the Orb of Hope¡ªa symbol of our salvation, the Light of the Sea. They extracted it from the maw of a great sea beast and used its power to stop the summoning ritual. They cast the Orb into a fiery circle, banishing the sea hags and lifting the curse. Some say the curse was lifted, but Mao Shar remains a place of peril. The jungle is overgrown, and hostile creatures roam its depths. It seems like the island¡¯s dark magic persists, keeping our tribes away. The spirits of those who fell still linger, and the shadows remember the blood spilled." Recited Kaimano. He spoke eloquently with the sound of the waves in his voice.

    The pirates listened intently to Kaimano''s tale. Some with rapt interest, and others with lazy attention. Merrick leaned forward. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and determination.

    "Well, lads, sounds like a right adventure ahead of us! We''ll navigate those jungles and claim the Light of the Sea. If it be our destiny to face eldritch horrors, then let it be so!" He said with a laugh.

    "Aye, but ye¡¯ve heard the tale, Captain. The Light ain''t just there for the takin''. The island¡¯s a deathtrap, and those who go lookin'' often don¡¯t return. What¡¯s your grand plan when things go belly up, Merrick?" Responded Roger. He was prodding the Captain, trying to find any way to make him look incompetent and weak.

    "I reckon we need more than bravado and a cutlass to face what¡¯s on that island. How do we fight against curses and dark magic, Captain? Steel won''t cut it against shadows and spirits." Tom Rooker retorted.

    "True enough. The Light of the Sea may not be worth the risk. Perhaps we should reconsider our course before we find ourselves among the dead and damned." added Billy McGraw.

    "Aye, Captain. We¡¯ve sailed through storms and faced down deadly foes before. If the Light¡¯s our only hope against Jones, then I say we go for it. But we need a plan¡ªsomething solid, not just a wild gamble." Gilb replied.

    "Gilb¡¯s right. We need a proper strategy. This ain¡¯t just about sailin'' into the unknown; it¡¯s about comin'' back out alive. If we know what dangers lie ahead, we can prepare for ''em." Agreed Samuel.

    "These tales speak of horrors beyond the physical, Captain. We need to think smart, not just brave. Supplies, knowledge, and a clear head. Otherwise, we¡¯ll be feedin'' the fish with our bones." Salty Jeb put his two coppers in. Merrick was still unsure about that one. The old cook was shady. He never could tell where Salty Jeb''s ambitions were.

    "Stories like these tend to grow with the tellin''. We need to be sure what¡¯s real and what¡¯s not. If the dangers are as great as the rewards, we best be prepared for anything." Finn added his piece. There was a murmur among the crew, as many seemed to agree with him.

    "The tales of Mao Shar are not just stories to frighten children. The dangers are real, and the spirits of the island are restless. But the Light of the Sea is also real. With courage, cunning, and respect for the old ways, you might just succeed. But tread carefully, for the island will test you in ways you cannot imagine." Kaimano said. He looked gravely at the assembled crew.

    "Then it¡¯s settled. We prepare ourselves for whatever awaits on Mao Shar. We¡¯ve faced curses and legends before. We¡¯ll not back down from a challenge. Keep your wits about ye, and trust in your Captain. We¡¯ll find the Light and see this through together!" Merrick said, raising a hand signifying the final word. From the conversation, he reckoned that most of the crew were still on his side, but those ten would prove deadly if he did not come up with a way to handle them.

    After a few hours, Mao Shar came into view. As soon as it did, Kaimano departed. Not before leaving a crudely drawn map with the last known location of The Light of the Sea, as passed down by the tribe for generations. Merrick held the map, and reviewed it carefully, committing every detail to memory.

    They moored the Tiderunner offshore, and lowered the longboats. Merrick left Samuel onboard, with a handful of pirates he suspected to be loyal to him. That way, they could guard the ship while he managed the potential mutineers.

    The longboats rowed to shore, and the pirates took stock of their surroundings. The beach was fringed with dark, dense jungle. The sounds of wildlife were carried out of the dense foliage by the winds. Roars, chirps, clicks, croaking, howling, hooting, and all manner of animal sounds assaulted the pirates'' ears. Merrick opened his compass. The needle pointed in the direction he needed to go, and he felt that now familiar feeling of dread-excitement.

    "This way lads!" He said eagerly, unsheathing his cutlass. He charged ahead with the twenty five or so pirates he brought with him. Including the ten he suspected of mutiny. As they trekked through the jungle, Merrick heard a scream from the rear. He looked back, and saw that one of his men, a pirate named Del Digby, was on the ground. He rushed over to see what happened.

    "He stepped on this Cap''n." Another pirate said, pointing to a beautiful violet plant with sharp thorns sticking out of it. "It shot a spike at him, and he keeled over!"

    "Aye mates, watch where you''re steppin''! The island is already trying to send us to the Locker!" Merrick shouted, resuming his place at the head of the group. A few hours into the hike, and no more casualties were accrued. They managed to fight off a large predatory reptile, and avoid quicksand and choking vines. The oppressive heat and thick plants made progress slow. The men were tired, but they were close to the Light.

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    As they sat resting, a strange crusty rustling sound was heard. The men looked about, but the thick brush made it impossible to see very far. Suddenly there was a scream, and Merrick saw a giant Salt Rime Worm, its body encrusted with salt and barnacles, devouring a pirate!

    "By the Powers! It¡¯s a bloody Salt Rime Worm! Arm yourselves, lads!" Jeb screamed.

    "To arms, to arms! Defend yourselves or we¡¯re all worm food!" Roger bellowed.

    "Aim for its head! It¡¯s the only way to slow it down! Don¡¯t let it take any more of our men!" Merrick shouted. The worm was a difficult beast to fight. Pistol shots rang out as men fired, swords clanged against the salty shell of the Rime Worm. Its immense body shoved several pirates to their backs as the beast whirled around to face the most annoying attackers.

    "Watch out for its tail! That thing¡¯ll crush ye flat!" shouted Jeb, as he used an old club to bash at the Rime Worm. Despite his age, Merrick respected the cook''s tenacity.

    "It¡¯s too strong, Cap¡¯n! We can¡¯t get through its hide!" Ken said as he tried desperately to cut the Rime Worm. The shell was uncrackable with their cutlasses and pistols though. They needed to figure out how to kill the worm. Suddenly Merrick saw an opening. As the worm reared up to assault Finn, he rushed in, lunging forward with his cutlass, he pierced through a chink in the creature''s armor. Opaque ichor spilled from the wound and the worm writhed and wriggled back into the jungle. The crew could hear it crashing through the trees as they moved to check on eachother.

    "Two men lost Cap''n." Reported Mr. Gilb. "Del Digby, and Wren Slater."

    "Rest in Power men." Merrick said, taking off his hat and setting it across his chest.  "We need to keep moving. Lets go."

    The crew rallied. Seeing Merrick defeat the worm renewed many of their spirits, and their trust in the Captain. Roger scowled angrily.

    A few hours more, and the crew made it to the location of the Light of the Sea. A grotto in the jungle, glowing with an eerie, otherworldly light. The pirates entered the grotto, and inside, sat on a stone plinth, was a glowing orb. It glowed with a cool blue-green light. Around it grew moss and lichen of all colors, adding an air of exotic beauty to the large cavernous room. The sound of dripping water echoed through the chamber. The air was thick with the sense of ancient power. The orb cast a shimmering pattern on the walls, like water rippling in the light.

    "There it is, lads. The Light of the Sea. We''ve done it. Now, let''s get what we came for." Merrick said, staring intently at the beautiful sight.

    "Hold on, Captain. Before anyone lays a hand on that thing, we need to talk." Roger interrupted.

    The crew tensed, sensing the tension that had been growing for months, since that fateful encounter with Davy Jones. Merrick turned slowly, resting a hand on the hilt of his cutlass.

    "Talk, Roger? Or are you lookin'' to parley for control of this here venture?" Merrick asked, a sly, knowing smirk spreading across his face.

    "We''ve followed ye through hell and high water, Merrick. But this, this needs to be done right. The Light of the Sea ain''t just another trinket. We need the Black Squids, Captain Singh and the fleet, to stand a chance against Davy Jones." Roger said confidently.

    "Roger''s right. This ain''t a solo voyage. We need allies, and Singh¡¯s fleet can tip the scales in our favor." Billy added.

    "Glory''s no good if we''re all dead, Merrick. We¡¯ve seen what Jones can do. We need the might of the fleet, and Singh¡¯ll ensure our survival." Rooker said, in turn resting his hand on his cutlass hilt.

    Merrick studied the faces of his crew. The ten he expected, all wore the same expression on their faces. The other twelve looked confused or worried. "Good, the mutineers were outnumbered." Merrick mused to himself.

    "I¡¯ve got a plan, a clever one at that. We don¡¯t need Singh. We use the Light to lure Jones into a trap. My trap. And then, we finish him once and for all. They''ll sing songs of us for generations, and we won''t have to worry about the stain of association with the Black Squids." Merrick said confidently.

    "And what if your plan fails, Merrick? What then? We¡¯re dead men, one and all." Salty Jeb added.

    "Enough talk. We do this my way, Merrick. It¡¯s the only way to ensure our survival. Hand over the Light, and let¡¯s call in the fleet." Roger said, unsheathing his cutlass.

    "You¡¯re makin¡¯ a mistake, Roger. You think Singh¡¯ll just hand over the Light once he has it? He¡¯ll take it, and us along with it. There¡¯s no bargaining with a man like Singh." Merrick replied, unsheathing his own blade. The sound of swords unsheathing rang out, as all men present prepared their weapons.

    "I¡¯m done listening to your mad schemes, Merrick. This is where it ends. For the good of the crew, step aside." Roger demanded. The tension hung thick in the air.

    "If you want it, Roger, you¡¯ll have to take it. But know this¡ªI''ve got no intention of goin'' down without a fight." Merrick said darkly, lowering his head solemnly.

    "So be it. Men, stand ready." Roger said, as he stepped up to face Merrick.

    The two men squared off. The air crackled with tension. The grotto''s eerie light lit the stage. Merrick and Roger circled each other as the rest of the crew started fighting for their lives. The twelve pirates who were not part of the mutiny were attacked by the nine other mutineers.

    Roger made the first move, lunging forward with a powerful overhead slash. Merrick deftly sidestepped, his cutlass parrying the blow with a sharp clang. The two men traded rapid strikes, their blades flashing in the dim light. Each attack was met with a counter, the sound of metal on metal ringing out like a bell of doom.

    Merrick¡¯s style was fluid and unpredictable, a blend of finesse and cunning. He danced around Roger, using quick footwork and agile movements to stay one step ahead. Roger, in contrast, fought with brute strength and raw determination, his strikes powerful and relentless.

    The duel surged back and forth across the cavern floor. Merrick feinted to the left, drawing Roger into a wide swing, then countered with a rapid thrust that grazed Roger¡¯s side. Roger grunted in pain but did not falter, his resolve hardened with every clash of blades.

    With a roar, Roger launched a flurry of attacks, forcing Merrick to retreat. The Captain parried and dodged, his cutlass moving like a living thing in his hand. He saw an opening and took it, a swift slash that caught Roger¡¯s arm, drawing blood. Roger snarled, more enraged than deterred.

    They circled again, breathing heavily, sweat dripping from their brows. Roger lunged low, aiming for Merrick¡¯s legs, but the Captain leapt back, then lunged forward with a counterstrike that slashed across Roger¡¯s chest. Roger stumbled but regained his footing, eyes burning with fury.

    ¡°You¡¯re mad, Merrick!¡± Roger shouted, swinging his cutlass with all his might. Merrick blocked the blow, their faces inches apart.

    "Aye, Roger, but at least I make it look good!" Merrick quipped with a mischievous grin.

    The fight intensified. Both men knew that only one could emerge victorious. Merrick¡¯s cutlass flicked out, a rapid series of strikes that forced Roger on the defensive. The mutineer blocked the blows, but his movements were slowing. Fatigue was setting in.

    Seizing the moment, Merrick feigned an attack to the left, then pivoted right, bringing his cutlass down in a sweeping arc. Roger¡¯s blade met his, but the force of Merrick¡¯s strike sent it flying from his hand. Roger fell to one knee, clutching his wounded arm, his eyes wide with shock.

    Merrick stood over him, his cutlass pointed at Roger¡¯s throat. ¡°Yield, Roger. Or you¡¯ll find the afterlife a lot less amusing than my company,¡± he said with a cheeky grin.

    Roger, breathing heavily and glaring up at Merrick, nodded slowly. ¡°Alright, Merrick. You win. For now,¡± he said, his voice laced with reluctant respect.

    Merrick lowered his cutlass and extended a hand to Roger. ¡°Good. Now, let¡¯s finish what we came here to do. Together.¡±

    As the Captain and First Mate stood together, the rest of the crew stopped their fighting. No men had died, but many were clutching wounds. Merrick, sweating, walked up and grabbed the Light of the Sea. He placed it in a canvas sack and hoisted it over his shoulder.

    "Right lads, lets not let a bit of mutiny spoil our triumph! Back to the ship! We''ve got a devil to deal with!" Merrick shouted, and the crew hurried out of the grotto.

    The hike back to the ship was arduous. The men, in their weakened state, moved even slower. Eventually, in the small hours of the morning, they made it back to the ship, battered and bruised. They boarded the Tiderunner, and made sail for the open sea.