Quartermaster Dobbs, a mountain of a man with a booming voice, rallied the pirates with his war cries, his heavy axe cleaving through the opposition as if they were mere twigs. Beside him, young Noah, wielding dual daggers, danced around his opponents, his youth belying his deadly efficiency.
The melee on the galleon's deck was fierce. Pirates clashed with the galleon's defenders in brutal hand-to-hand combat. Steel met steel, creating a cacophony of ringing, while shouts and war cries echoed.
Marcellus, carried by adrenaline, found himself expertly parrying blows, his sabre moving almost on its own accord.
Marcellus was slipping up while he tried to hold back his strength. Every now and then he would mistakenly take down an opponent in one move.
The tide began to turn in favour of the pirates due to Marcellus' slip-ups. Their ferocity, combined with their element of surprise, overwhelmed the galleon's crew.
Captain Crowe, with his iconic tricorn hat and long coat, was a force to be reckoned with. He sliced through the galleon's defences, his eyes always on the prize – the galleon's captain.
The two finally clashed in a dramatic showdown near the ship's helm. Their swords met with thunderous clashes, their footwork a dance of death. With a final, masterful feint, Crowe disarmed the galleon's captain, pressing the tip of his blade to the defeated man's throat, forcing his surrender.
It soon became clear that the galleon's crew recognized the fearsome reputation of Captain Crowe and his crew.
Panic spread among them as they realized the impending threat. The white flag of surrender slowly rose on the galleon's mast, a symbol of their submission.
To Marcellus's surprise the ship had surrendered, what could be the meaning?
The tension on the ship began to dissipate as the crew saw the surrendering flag. A collective sigh of relief swept through the ranks, and weapons were lowered.
As the dust settled, and the cries of battle turned into cheers of victory, Marcellus, bloodied but unbowed, looked around.
The deck was littered with the aftermath of the fierce clash. Finn, catching up with him, clapped him on the back, "We did it! The treasure galleon is ours!"
The victory was sweet, and as the pirates began to explore the depths of the galleon, tales of unimaginable treasures began to surface. Gold coins, precious gemstones, and artefacts from distant lands – the bounty was beyond their wildest dreams.
The hulk, Andorra La Vella.
The day had been won, not just with steel and gunpowder, but with the indomitable spirit of a crew that refused to be bested.
The legend of Captain Crowe and his crew, especially the enigmatic Marcellus, would be told in hushed tones in every tavern across the seas.
Captain Crowe, displaying his trademark cunning, ordered a few crew members to board the galleon to assess the cargo and gather any valuable items.
Marcellus watched as Tommy Bones and a few others sailed across, their expressions a mix of anticipation and greed.
The ship was at least five times bigger than Captain Crowe's ship, Marcellus had no way of knowing what happened yet he kept watch nervously.
It took a while to loot, but they did so hurriedly.
Moments later, the boarding party returned, bearing news of an unimaginable haul.
The treasure galleon was indeed a floating trove of riches. Barrels of rum, crates of exotic spices, and chests overflowing with gleaming gold and jewels filled the hold of the galleon. The crew erupted into wild cheers, their battle-ready posture replaced by jubilant celebration.
There was gold, gold not in coins but bars.
Marcellus couldn't help but smile at the turn of events.
He may have felt like an outsider earlier in the day, but now, he was part of a pirate crew celebrating a successful raid on the legendary treasure galleon. The camaraderie he had missed seemed to return, if only for a fleeting moment.
This was also why he was holding back from using the full strength of a Sword Saint.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a fiery glow across the sea, the two ships slowly separated. The treasure galleon, stripped of its wealth, was left marooned, its crew undoubtedly cursing their ill-fated encounter with Captain Crowe's notorious crew.
Marcellus found himself amidst the revelry, sharing in the unimaginable spoils of their latest score. As he raised a tankard of stolen rum in a toast, he couldn't help but wonder what other adventures and treasures awaited him on this unpredictable journey across the high seas.
Marcellus's time at sea had provided him with more than just the thrill of battles and the allure of treasures;
it had become a journey of introspection and discovery. He had come to recognize that the life of a pirate, while punctuated by moments of adrenaline, was mostly mundane, with vast stretches of nothingness. But it was during these stretches that Marcellus found himself reflecting on the broader mysteries of life and purpose.
The docile surrender of the soldier to pirates was a revelation for Marcellus.
In his hometown, confrontations were the norm. Conflict was seen as a test of one's mettle, and only through such trials could one earn respect. Yet here, on the open sea, the mere sight of the pirate flag would lead most to yield without a fight. The power of reputation was evident.
Back in Wisbech people had died for less than what these Men had readily surrendered.
However, the enigmatic aura surrounding Captain Crowe intrigued Marcellus the most.
The captain's mere presence seemed to emanate a force that wasn't solely based on his deeds or reputation.
Marcellus had encountered various forms of mystical powers in his life.
Marked ones, like his revered priestess from Wisbech, were believed to be chosen by deities, their abilities a testament to their unwavering faith.
Then there were the knights, whose unique breathing techniques granted them strength and agility beyond human limits.
And of course, the raw, primal powers drawn from beasts, used by some to craft Magic Items of immense power.
Speaking of beasts they had not moved the Wereshark from its position in the hull.
I wonder what he is going to do with it, will he think me naive and try to keep it for himself?
Marcellus could only contemplate The captain's next move.