Dark soaks clouds steals the sun's light, bringing a gorgeous clear sky to a thunder god contest. Panic and fear sweep the streets of Nassau. Traders, merchants, fishermen and all manner of criminals begin to fly under the nearest covering trying not to get drenched from the coming storm. However whereas everyone sees danger, Tristian spots opportunity.
Standing at six feet tall, milky brown skin with matted jet black locs highlighted at the tips. Dark hazel eyes with a rough mug. Glass cutting jawline and a rugged lean physique. He has on a multi-patched black shirt with stone wash trousers tucked into his black leather boots. A gold necklace around his neck, gold knobs in his ears and a gold mine in his mouth
Tristian hides behind the Perry-Wiggle bar at the end of the street. Digging in his pouch he takes out a black cloth and wraps it around his face, slinging the grey pouch over his shoulder. Steady as a leapord he calms himself and at the first drop of rain-he takes off! Tactically maneuvering through the crowd, snatching, ducking and dodging. Tristian takes total control of the chaotic streets crowding his pouch with any and everything whether it be money, food, jewels, weapons, clothes, even building materials. Coming to his final lift he spins around the edge of a congested fisherman's tent. Amidst the crowd Tristian slowly slides the yellow tail snapper off the cutting board into his pouch.
"Thief stop him! He's got my fish!" yells the fisherman from amongst the crowd. Looking back Tristian sees the oversized whale trying to chase after him with a machete in hand. Laughing he closes his pouch and with the last of his energy he begins his get away plan. As a professional thief who has been stealing for nineteen years, this was nothing to him. Having mapped every passage way and shortcut in Nassau he easily looses the fisherman. After reassuring that he wasn't being watched any longer. He walks to the nearest bench and plops down. Taking a minute to regulate his breathing, he opens his pouch to examine his plunder. A few empty rum bottles, nine pieces of eight, a few nails, two diamonds and a half scaled fish. 'Well it's better than last time' he thinks to himself. Letting out a heavy sigh he stands up and begin his trot back to his lonely rickety tent he calls home.
After several tiring hours of walking he crawls under his roof, nothing more than a few sticks holding up a rain soaked clothed. Tristian puts the pouch to the side and starts to dig a fire pit into the ground. Grabbing his cutlass from the back room he goes out the tent to clean the fish and collect fire wood. Returning with all his materials he starts a fire, roasting the fish. With a full stomach he lays his head on some wool he killed a sheep for last week. Within a few minutes he drifts off into a deep sleep.
As Tristian comes back to the land of the living he finds himself in a dreadful situation. He's shackled at his ankle and wrist, pressed so close between those on the side of him he can barely breath. The air moldy, humid and nauseating to smell. The cry's of babies, injured men and livestock echo off the walls. Tristian's eyes slowly adjust to the dim streaks of light coming through the openings in the ship. Looking in every direction he's lost for words. The walls were covered in mold and mushrooms. Pebble sized spores float visibly in the air.along the walls are long benches stocked with thousands of people all sharing Tristian's fate. His feet sit swimmingly in feces infested water. Â
Aggravated and feeling hopeless Tristians tugs on his chains hoping they would snap. The old man at his right leans over.
"It's useless these chains have enslaved many before you and shall continue to do so after you pass."
" What! I'ne no slave puppa. I been free from the first beginning." Tristian shouts back giving the chains another go, earning him the glares of the other slaves. As the situation settles in he starts to panic. Screaming and clap his chains together he manages to even fall over into the water carrying his best friends with him. The Caucasian overseer sitting at the entrance shouts at Tristian to quiet himself, lashing him with his whip. Tristian takes that one and replies with a cold-filled spitball to the eye. Outraged the overseer flings his chair. Ducking quickly only getting grazed by the foot of the chair. The overseer puts on his boots, walks to Tristian, grabs him by his hair and disconnects him.
He takes him outside where the scenery is completely different. The fresh salt water cleansed the air, the main deck is mopped and polished. Lounge chairs with tables and umbrellas placed in different corners taking full advantage of the view. The entire crew's white and they sail under a British flag. The overseer drags Tristian to the main mast tieing him with rope so his back's exposed. Tearing off his shirt the overseer draws back his whip. WHAP!! Tristian screeches in pain as a large slash-mark forms on his back. Rearing back he sends another three lashes at Tristian.
"Hey Conley stop damaging my cargo I could fetch a hefty price for that one." The ship's helmsman tells the overseer.
"I rather kill this one we've got at least a hundred more. But first he's got to suffer a bit."he replies.
"You know half of them won't make the trip we just threw like thirty of them overboard yesterday. Please put my cargo in the hold." The helmsman says back commandingly.
Sucking his teeth the overseer looses Tristian from the mast. Lifting his by his arm he Carrie's him. Tristian tired and in agony musters the strength to elbow the overseer in the throat. Releasing his grip Tristian dashes to the side of the boat. All the ships crew begin to chase after Tristian trying pin him down. Ducking the first one, sliding under the second and spinning around the third. He could see the sea releasing his stores of adrenaline he jumps straight over the railing diving head first into the water. Unable to swim properly he uses his legs like fins swimming in any direction that wasn't the ship's.
"Shoot him hurry up!" The helmsman shouts
"We can't see him that's just wasting ammo!" A crew-member replies.
"God dammit you see the blood right? Just shoot!" On command they all empty their guns into the water aimlessly. Tristian had already swam out of range of their guns and was long gone. Screaming the helmsman calls Conley then shoots him point blank to the face.
After about half an hour of swimming Tristian sees land in the distance. Pushing through the last hurdle he makes it to the shore. Laying in his back he soaks in the warmth of the sun. The cool breeze gives him life again.
"Oi! I think the little clams woken up. Call the cap'n." Shouted one of the
The mysterious figure approached him with his rock solid hands against and slowly removed the blindfold. As Tristian eyes adjusted to the light in the room he looked around for a quick exit but didn't find any. He was in some kind of basement. Empty rum bottles littered the floor, broken tables and chairs lay piled in a corner. Turning his head to the back of the room he saw half dismantled muskets and broken swords on a table and hanging on the wall the one symbol he wished he would've never seen The Jolly Rodger.
"I guess yuh noticed it by now you're no longer on land. So you would do well to answer my questions carefully. Do you understand boy?" The figure asked, still with his back turned. Tristian shook his head vigorously wondering if he could see him.
"What's your name, boy? Ye full name"
"Tristian Alexander Newport, but everyone calls me Keng."
" Keng aye are you by any chance related to Montrove Newport or as they call him captain bootleg?"
Tristian spits in disgust "yeah and so what he was a filthy pirate. All they do is knock up women and leave. What's any a this gotta do with me anyway just let me go yuh ole fool. You have no right to keep me here."
"Foolish boy! You stole from me so I have all rights to kill you where yuh stand!" he says slowly turning around.
Revealing his face to Tristian who couldn't believe who he was looking upon. His hair was slung back and wrapped into a ponytail, his grey grey beard was awkwardly groomed and his almond brown skin glistened as the sun showed touched it through the cracks in the floorboard. He had an intimidating glare that could pierce even the hardest souls. To add to his vicious bloodlust aurora was a gnarly scar extending from just above his left eye down to his right cheek. He wore a red robe exposing his unshaven torso which was unequivocally chiseled. He had 3 pistols which sat comfortably on his waist held up by his pants, and his machete at his side neatly hidden by his robe. On each finger, he had a ring and when he spoke his mouth was a gold mine.
"Blackbeard." Tristian says spitting as to wash the words out of his mouth.
"Wow, even trash like you know my name. I must really be famous." Laughing hysterically to mock Tristian.
He takes two steps closer and extends his hand to help Tristian off the ground. Recognizing his hands were still bound behind his back. He draws a small knife from his boot and cuts the rope. Tristian rubs his wrist with relief and removes the marks that had been implanted there. Black beard walks to the eastern wall and brings two chairs sitting down in one and motioning for Tristian to take a seat as well.
"Now today you committed a serious crime, well honestly I don't care about the other stuff but you stole a sapphire that i was going to purchase for my wife."
"Your married!" Tristian said, interrupting black beard. When he saw the daring stare he was given, he apologized and hung his head down in humility.
"As I was saying, yes I am, it is so hard to believe yuh maggot. Anyhow, that offense can't go unpunished. However out of respect for your father the man that gave me this beautiful scar i will give you a choice. You can either join my crew and work for me, or I can let a piece of English lead kiss that pretty forehead a yours and mess up my good wall with your vulgar blood. Your choice boy."
Tristian looked into his eyes trying to find some way to call his bluff but he could see no flaw. In fear of his life and with his knowledge of the man who sat less than three feet away from him he chose the smartest choice.
"Fine i'll join your stupid crew but i promise you this one day ill kill you for kidnapping and taking me from my home."
Smiling black beard replies " I look forward to that battle, young man. For now welcome aboard my ship and my wife The Queen Annes' Revenge and welcome to the Black Beard Pirates "
When they both rosed from their chairs one of the crewmates came crashing through the door with the most frightening face. "Cap'n ship on the starboard side. We count 12 guns and it's a Spanish flag. It seems they spotted us and their main sails have been opened and they're gaining fast. Wah yuh want us to do cap'n?"
"Damn it! Ready the men and the guns. Turn the ship so the port faces them!" Turning back to Tristian he yucks out one of his pistols and tosses it to him and points to a long sword beside one of the broken tables. "Time to prove yuh loyalty and really see how dangerous you can be. Also don't get killed, it'll be a shame to have to feed your body to the sharks."
Black beard spins around and dashes up the stairs to the top of the deck leaving Tristian by himself to collect his senses. Looking at the pistol in his hand and the sword on the floor he finally realizes the life he had signed up for. A pirate, the type of man he despised most. However, he couldn't change his situation now. So he fastened the pistol along his waist and hoisted the sword on his back. Taking a deep breath he walks from the hold of the ship up onto the main deck and begins to help the men prepare for battle.