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The following would be common knowledge by most, if not all sailors and pirates that roamed Alorian waters. The story of Captain Kyrk.
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289 AC
Sunlight. It shined through the wooden ports that laid themselves symmetrically along the sides of the vessel as the sea brought a rhythmic sequence of rocks and throws of the wooden frigate. Soon enough, thumps of hardened leather boots could be heard crashing down upon the creaking stairs that led to the Captain's quarters where an aging man sat, scribbling down notes in what seemed to be a worn, almost yellowing, leather-bound book of some kind. Soon the wild thumps of the crewman stopped as they gazed upon the weathered man sitting at the desk, taking a deep drag from the moistening warm air around them before speaking toward the man. "Captain. We've got ourselves an issue." the Songsakian spoke toward the Captain with a low, monotone voice.
Soon enough the Captain and the crewman found themselves on the deck of the ship. Every crew member seemed to be statues gazing out upon the sea, not caring to even glance at their almost holy leader as he passed through them without hesitation, even pushing some men aside as he did. Though, he himself became a statue at the sight that took over the entirety of his vision. The Regalian Navy cut threw sea toward the pirates, their blue and white stripes and their ships outsized, and outmatched all of the Captain's crew two-to-one. Though, this is not what took the corsairs attention, no, the Regalian Navy have confronted and fought with the Kyrk brigade before. What took the Captain's attention was the second wave of boats behind the Navy, the second wave of vessels held crimson red, and shining bronze sails that gave the crew shivers, and goosebumps. Yet the Captain unlatched his spyglass from his belt and gave the first crimson flagged ship a look over, at the hull of the ship stood a young Alvaro d'Souza staring right back at Captain Kyrk with a devilish grin adorned on his face. Though, the Captain didn't hesitate to call the first order, and cut a sharp line through the silence that seemed to even pause the environment around the crew as they absentmindedly gazed out onto the ocean, the Captain barked out "Well if it ain't Alvaro fockin' d'Souza..- Lower the sails, hoist the anchor and head north-west!".
The air blew in the graying hair of the Captain as the sails fluttered down from where they were being held, and the boat began to pivot slightly and then move forward as the wind caught to the sails. The familiar Songsakian took the helm, navigating the ship as the Kyrk watched on Alvaro's boat as they countered to the Captain's advances, he grimaced. "Prepare the starboard cannons!" he growled out toward his men, continuing to spy on the familiar crimson flags as they neared. The Captained raised his hand in a gesture to when they should fire- soon after hastily lowering his arm to the side of his coat before spouting out "Fire!", the thundering sounds of cannons, one after the other, could be heard as the boat rocked and the iron balls sunk into Alvaro's ship, though were grazed as most, being patched up within minutes.
Hours passed, ships now were huddled close to one another exchanging fire before another round of Navy vessels neared, the Kyrk crew holding off the remaining- just barely surviving with the bare minimum of supplies, and men left. Frankly, it was obvious that Kyrk's crew couldn't hold their ground any longer. Lightning struck in the distance as a storm crept up upon the ships, each cannon ringing in the Captain's ear as it struck the vessel, each scream a boy gave off as his final announcement to Ailor made the Captain wince. The worn man looked toward the boy huddled in the corner, moving to throw him over the ship and into the lifeboat beside them, hooked onto their frigate, shouting out in a shaky, overwhelmed voice "Boy! When they ask of this day you tell them that Captain Kyrk died honorably, and for his crew! You hear me..- you say I'm-!". The corsair's voice cut off as a cannon flew, and hit the ground beneath him, the man plummeted down into the lower deck, having the floors wood topple on top of himself. Light became a myth, and so did emotion as his vision gave out, and all color turned to blackness, as only the sound of rain petaled against the rubbled structure that lay on top of the 'dead' Captain.
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293 AC
Sunlight. It beat down upon the white sandy shore of Daendroc as a small boy sat there, poking at the refined, white, rock with a long stick. Suddenly something poked at him, a washed up book it seemed, as the boy picked up the leather-bound book the letters "Captains Log" could be read on the cover, in scrapped out lettering. He paused, taking a flip through it before picking up his stick and using it as a 'sword'. "Argh! Ay'm Captain Kyrk of Daendroc- watch yah'selves!" he said, in a more than serious gaze as he glanced out to the ocean, almost certain that this 'Captain Kyrk' fellow was still out there... somewhere. 293 AC
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@Belgrade @Optimalfriskies @Jouster @TheLimpet
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Fawzi was totally there.
