Tommy stepped forward, his eyes alight with excitement. "Can we see them up close? Feel their weight, inspect their craftsmanship?"
The shopkeeper nodded, a knowing smile gracing his lips. "Of course, my friends. Please, take your time. Each cannon has been meticulously crafted, designed to withstand the fiercest battles and strike fear into the hearts of any adversary."
Their boots creaked on the floorboards as they approached the first cannon, a fearsome 24-pounder long gun mounted on a sturdy oak carriage. Tommy reached out, impressed by the sheer power contained in the smooth, cold bronze barrel embossed with swirling maritime motifs.
Beside it lurked a pair of 12-pounder carronades, their short, reinforced barrels hinting at the devastating blows they could deliver in close-quarter combat at sea.
Further down the line, Tommy's eyes widened as a glint of sunlight revealed the most imposing cannon yet- a 32-pounder naval gun, its thick barrel as wide around as a man's waist. This was a weapon of sheer destruction, capable of unleashing devastating cannonballs upon the most heavily fortified enemy vessels.
As the pair continued their eager inspection, the shopkeeper stood back, observing their enthusiasm with a glint of pride in his eyes.
As Tommy admired the naval gun's imposing barrel, his mind raced with visions of the cannon in action. He imagined the deafening boom as flames spewed from its muzzle, a cannonball hurtling forth to splinter the mast of an enemy ship. Clouds of choking gunpowder would envelop the deck as the naval gun relentlessly unleashed its deadly payload.
He pictured pirates recoiling in terror as their vessel was blown apart plank by plank, the naval gun's thunderous blasts accompanied by the screams of the wounded and dying. The acrid smell of the powder would linger even after the smoke cleared, revealing the enemy ship left shattered and sinking.
Tommy thought of how just one shot from the naval gun could turn the tide of a battle, crushing morale and striking fear into the hearts of adversaries. As he ran his hand along its primed surface, he felt the power of holding lives and fates in his grasp. This was truly the king of all cannons, the ultimate instrument of naval warfare.
Beside him, Noah let out an impressed whistle as he inspected the carved depictions of battle scenes running along the barrel. Each engraving illustrated the naval gun unleashing its fury upon enemy ships and structures.
"With a few of these, we could blast any fort to rubble," Noah remarked.
The shopkeeper chuckled knowingly. "Indeed, lads. Why merely sink a ship when you can obliterate seaside strongholds?"
Previously, Marcellus had made a tasteless joke about Marco's illness, leading to a swift punch from Tommy Bones in retaliation.
Now, as they admired the naval gun, Marcellus knew he needed to make amends. When Tommy commented on the cannon's incredible power, Marcellus saw his chance.
"With you commanding these guns, I pity the poor fool who finds himself in your crosshairs," Marcellus said. "Your aim is as true as your courage is great. Any enemy of yours will soon be blasted to the locker below when this beauty unleashes her fury!"
Tommy grinned but then waved a hand dismissively. "Your flattery is noted, but it doesn't change what you said before."
Marcellus, realizing his attempt had fallen short, swallowed his pride and replied earnestly, "You're right, Tommy. My previous words were thoughtless and hurtful. I am sorry. I think we got off on the wrong foot."
Tommy nodded, acknowledging the apology. "Apologize to Marco, now stop talking"
Marcellus cursed silently hew really was not good at flattery.
Meanwhile, the salty sea air filled Marco's lungs as he took in the array of provisions stockpiling on the deck. Barrels upon barrels were stacked like a fortress, overflowing with salted meat, cured fish and hardtack biscuits. The scent of exotic spices mingled with the brine, reminders of distant lands and adventures.
Marco sighed, lips curved into a wry smile. "Salted mystery meat, rock-hard tack, and rancid fish? My friend, we've traded gourmet meals for prison food."
"Come now, where's your sense of adventure?" Dufrene laughed, giving Marco a playful nudge. "We'll be dining on five-star cuisine - the flavours of the open ocean!"
As the men bellowed with laughter, Marco shook his head he did not get the joke as usual. But his worry faded as he caught sight of the water barrels, reminders of one essential provision that could mean life or death at sea...
Next, their quest led them to secure fresh water, a precious resource that could mean the difference between life and death. They procured sturdy barrels capable of withstanding the rocking of the ship, ensuring an ample supply of this invaluable liquid to quench their thirst during their arduous journeys.
The crew also sought materials for ship maintenance and repairs. They acquired coils of rope, strong and durable, necessary for rigging and securing the sails. Canvas was gathered, ready to be transformed into patches for torn sails or makeshift shelters during inclement weather. Nails, tar, and caulking were secured to mend the ship's hull, keeping it seaworthy and staunch against the relentless assault of the waves.
They acquired maps to guide them through perilous territories, they intended to avoid menacing sea monsters and well-meaning men.
Lastly, they gathered a hoard of trade goods—luxuries and commodities that could be bartered or sold during their encounters with other ships and coastal settlements. Exotic silks, rare spices, gleaming jewels, and barrels of rum filled their stores, tempting treasures that could secure alliances or earn them the favour of powerful figures in the pirate realm.
Captain Crowe did not sail without rum, it was bad luck!
When they were done they loaded everything onto the Viper.
The crew's revelry soon led them to stumble towards the seediest section of the port - a ramshackle collection of buildings from which raucous laughter and intoxicating perfumes flowed freely. Dufrene froze as he realized their destination - a notorious whorehouse and gambling den that could quickly drain their purses of any advance earnings.
"Mates, perhaps we should refrain from frivolities we have yet to afford," Dufrene cautioned, ever the pragmatic first mate. But his words fell on deaf ears and roving hands as the crew lurched forward, consumed by desire and careless bravado.
In the crimson haze of the brothel, sanity deserted them. The pirates caroused with abandon, liquor splashing as freely as their pilfered coins. Dufrene grimaced as he watched their fortune dwindle amidst dizzying rounds of cards, dice, and the affections of the women who worked there.
When he half-heartedly tried to reason with the men again, rough hands shoved him backwards as bloodshot eyes glared in a warning. Dufrene resigned himself to waiting it out, relying on his own sobriety and restraint.
Hours later, the crew finally emerged, clothes dishevelled and purses lightened to a pitiful jingle. Randy, the burly boatswain, gripped Dufrene's shoulder with a force that betrayed his drunkenness.
"Best watch that loose tongue o' yours, mate," he slurred. "Cap'n's not around to protect his favourite pet." The implied threat in his words turned Dufrene's stomach.
The crew was not allowed to gamble on deck it was bad luck!
As the first light of dawn illuminated their path back to the ship, Dufrene contemplated the precarious position he now found himself in. He would need to steer a careful course alongside this unpredictable and vice-driven crew until they were once again under their Captain's steady command.
As Dufrene, painstakingly double-checked these necessities, their ship transformed into a floating fortress, ready to brave the tumultuous seas. Their stores overflowed with provisions, repairs, weapons, navigational tools, and trade goods—a testament to their preparedness and resilience in the face of the unpredictable and perilous world they navigated.
With their ship fully equipped, they set sail, the weight of their acquisitions serving as a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. But the crew was undeterred, fueled by the knowledge that they possessed the essentials to weather the storms, navigate the uncharted, and carve their own destiny upon the vast canvas of the pirate-infested seas.