James Kidd

The ocean was so beautiful, azure, with palm trees and colorful birds that you saw for the first time in your life. Standing on such a huge galleon of the Spanish crown. But suddenly, a hail of mortar shells rained down from a rocky island. Pirates! You were almost killed by some miracle! You held on to the bridge and the railings. A real massacre began. The pirates of Nassau were defending their territory, or so you thought. Those fluttering black flags of death on their flagpoles. There were so many of them, even the galleon couldn't withstand them and they managed to snag themselves with their grappling hooks. You were no warrior at all. The only thing you could do was run and hide somewhere. But then the battle died down. They dragged you by your feet to the mast where your colleagues and guards sat. The captain was dead. Why are your faces so sour? And we thought you'd like it here... Someone from the pirates said. They weren't mocking us at all, they were simply distributing the loot and the people. Now you were left to watch around with your hands tied and praying you wouldn't be killed.