"Alright, give me the golden coins," Jack demanded, noting that while 10 gold coins were a considerable sum, it fell short of their larger financial needs. Stone and wood houses, along with quality ships, commanded prices ranging from 100 to 1500 gold coins.
The sheets, folded three times into a rectangular shape, promised a more significant size when unfolded, easing the work of tailors.
The merchant handed over 10 gold coins, and Jack, in a customary gesture, tested each coin with his teeth to ensure their authenticity.
Pleased with the spoils of their plunder, Jack cast a sly wink at Mary, hinting at something exciting.
Mary, catching on to the unspoken plan, smiled and they proceeded to purchase food along with a wooden crate to carry their provisions—three crates in total.
Exiting the bustling market, they ventured behind it to a tavern that served multiple purposes: providing alcohol, accepting bounties and missions, and offering a place to dine.
Pirate-controlled islands boasted taverns with this trifecta, distinguishing them from Navy-controlled establishments where food and missions were strictly forbidden inside.
Entering the lively tavern filled with pirates of various ages and attire, Jack and Mary found a spot at the counter. Jack, unusually opting for a seat at the counter instead of his usual strategic table choice, aimed to eavesdrop on conversations and perhaps pose a question.
Seated at the counter with Mary to his left, Jack signaled the waiter, ordering two cups of spirits and two cups of rum for himself. After a toast and downing their drinks, Jack leaned in towards a neighboring captain, his voice carrying a gravelly rasp.
"Ahoy, care to hear a tale so unbelievable you'd question its reality?" he provocatively offered, hoping to capture the man's interest.
The silver-haired captain with a cold gaze declined, leading Jack to playfully poke the man's shoulder repeatedly, earning irritation.
"Cut it out! Are ye daft?" the captain snapped.
Jack, laughing with unrestrained exuberance, teased, "A wee bit of madness never hurt. What be yer name? Let me take a wild guess. Powder Monkey! HAR HAR HAR."
While Jack engaged in his usual eccentric banter, Mary seized the chance to order more spirits and slyly down each cup in quick succession, stifling giggles.
Growing increasingly angered, the captain stood up and questioned Jack's legitimacy. Jack, also rising, gestured for peace and introduced himself as Captain Jack Thunder, boasting a fictitious crew of two hundred men and presenting Mary as his vice captain.
Captain White Marshall, now displaying respect, extended his hand for a shake, curious about Jack's previously unheard-of exploits.
Sitting together, Jack spun a tale of sailing the treacherous Sea of Calamity and Thieves, capturing Captain White's attention.
Intrigued, Captain White Marshall asked, "Blimey, it can't be! Ye're not that mad, are ye?"
Jack, embracing the madness, chuckled and replied, "Mad as a cuttlefish in a storm, me heartie. Anyways, care to lend an ear to the tale of me recent skirmish in the treacherous Sea of Calamity?"
Captain White Marshall nodded, and Jack commenced his tale of deceit.
"In the Sea of Calamity, I've crossed paths with a bloke wieldin' powers beyond reckonin'. He could prance on the waves, part the seas, and command the fish and creatures beneath. A true marvel," Jack weaved his tale of deceit.
Captain White roared, "Ye laid eyes on Vernos!?"
Jack's brow feigned a slight furrow before he smiled slyly, saying, "Ah, so that be his name—the elusive second Pirate King."
White nodded eagerly, questioning, "What manner of man is he? Did ye meet him face to face?"
Jack wove another thread of deception, "Aye, he was surprisingly friendly, although he kept his name shrouded in mystery. He spoke of powers granted by stones. Have ye heard of such things?"
White, appreciating the shared information, disclosed, "Indeed, those be artifacts. And those who possess them are called Linkers, though why remains a puzzle."
Jack remarked, "In me six years at sea, I've encountered a Linker but once, and it turns out to be none other than a Pirate King."
Turning his gaze to Mary to check if she had ordered anything more, he found her asleep, cradled in her crossed arms on the counter, already inebriated.
Returning his attention to Captain White Marshall, the man continued, "Linkers are a rare breed, mostly confined to the Seas of Thieves and Calamity, avoidin' the more frequented routes."
Jack, after confirming the old captain had no further information, engaged in casual banter and shared meaningless tales, the two of them indulging in drinks for a few hours, satisfying their hunger in the process.
Mary stirred from her slumber, digging into her meal and promptly consuming more spirits.
"Aye, lass, awake now, are ye? Welcome back," Jack greeted.
Mary's eyebrows knitted in confusion, "Aye, captain, who's that?"
She had either forgotten or paid little attention to Jack's interaction with the old captain.
"This, me lass, be Captain White Marshall, me newfound mate," Jack proclaimed, a sly grin on his face.
Mary resisted the urge to facepalm, offering a forced smile, "Pleasure to meet ye, Captain," as she shook hands with White Marshall.
As the drinks flowed and camaraderie thrived, Jack refined his farewell to Captain White Marshall. Mary, bearing crates of provisions procured earlier, and Jack, their laughter harmonizing with the nocturnal breeze, traversed the thoroughfares with unwavering haste.
Upon reaching the dock, their pace transformed into a lively sprint, the echoes of Jack's laughter resonating through the sea breeze.
In the sanctum of their ship, as the sails caught the wind, Jack, with an unabashed grin, confessed, "Lass, the temptation was irresistible! HAR HAR."
Mary, sharing in the merriment, reveled in the exhilaration of their audacious escapade. In a flourish, Jack unveiled the spoils of their whimsical heist—a spyglass, approximately six Nord coins, and a compass ensconced in an elegant silver casing.
"Every day we're expanding our treasures and items, Mary," he proclaimed with a touch of theatrical flair.
Meanwhile, within the cozy confines of the tavern, Captain White Marshall, poised to settle his account, delved into his brown-hued coat, only to discover its newfound barrenness—devoid of Nords, bereft of the spyglass, and bereaved of the cherished silver compass.
Rising to his feet, a thunderous exclamation escaped his lips, "That wily rapscallion!"
While pillaging ships was outlawed under Admiral Jorkin's decree for his claimed islands, the subtle art of pickpocketing found no mention in the code.