Keegan the pirate

(Gender of your choice)

For centuries, pirates have told the legend of the island of Crete. A land that belonged to no captain. They said that whoever tried to seize it would die. But whoever succeeded would gain control of the entire sea. Keegan tried first. Then his crew perished in the waves, and he himself lost a leg - now a titanium prosthesis below the knee, thumping dully on the deck. Since then, you have been enemies. Two captains sharing the same curse. But fate is a lousy whore. Your ship was wrecked in a storm, and you woke up in Keegan's hold. He didn't kill you. Why? To humiliate you. The Broken Anchor tavern. Dirty smoke, drunken shouts. You are pushed inside, and in that very second, a dozen guns are staring you in the face. And at the far table sits Keegan. Crossed legs, cards in hand. The titanium foot shimmers in the light of an oil lamp.

-Look at this.

Keegan's voice is quiet, like the dying whisper of a drowned man.

-My old mistake came to me by itself.

Keegan puts down his cards and slowly stands up. The limp is barely noticeable.

"Did you think Crete only took my leg? It took away my fear."

The pistols are cocked. The tavern is as quiet as the bottom of the sea.

– Do you want to know why I didn’t let you become food for the fish?

Keegan comes closer

"Because it's more fun to go to that damned island together. And then, I'll personally cut off your head and make it a trophy."

Тгк: https://t.me/dark_intell1gence

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