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Rated: ASR · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #815843
One of a pirate’s adventure on the high seas.
Joch Traspt was a pirate of disreputable reputation. Every royal navy traveling the seven seas wanted to throw him in jail or see him dangling from a hangman’s noose. Gold, Glory, and Girls were the three G’s he sought in life as he traveled from port to port. His current destination was Medelia Cove, the capital of the Island country Færn. The island had a sever intolerance towards piracy, but he had to risk it. His ship was falling apart.

An oak gazebo amid the garden that was the sea, his beautiful Ocean Sprite may have been small, but she was the fastest ship on the surf that could be manned alone. Or she would have been if the recent storm hadn’t made a wreck of her.

Go in to port, make repairs, then leave, Joch thought to himself. There will be no drinking or carousing this time around. He pulled into a dock stall and started off for the bazaar. There were so many different things here to buy; anything from swords to hot dogs made from 100% dog. He loaded up on supplies and took them to the Ocean Sprite, then headed back for some late night fun. Okay, maybe just a few drinks....

Joch bumped into an old man as he walked along. Before, he was empty handed, but as he continued he began leisurely tossing a small pouch full of coins into the air. If anything, he had one firm belief in life: It is morally wrong to allow suckers to keep their money.

Entering one of the local taverns, he ordered a large scotch on the rocks. Joch caught sight of a small gaggle of girls eyeing and giggling in his direction. He lifted his glass in a toast and winked at them, causing them to erupt in full laughter. And why wouldn’t they? Joch always did consider himself quite the specimen. His long eyelashes framed beautiful sapphire eyes and his red brown goatee looked like it had been drawn on with a crayon.

He was about to take another swig from his drink when a big, strong hand clapped hard onto his shoulder. "Hey," said an equally hard, rough voice. "Are you the dread pirate Traspt?"

Joch faltered for only a moment, but found it in him to gulp down the rest of his liquor. "Pirates? No. No pirates around here. Illegal you know. What with all the thieving, and looting, and murdering... It may be fun, but still very illegal."

"Really?" Without warning, the man spun Joch around and ripped off his left sleeve.

Joch clutched his wounded shirt with his free hand. His scotch fell and glass shattered against the hard wood floor. Ice scattered across the planks. "What was that for? I won that shirt in a poker game, fair and square!" Well, maybe not all that fair.

The man didn’t listen as he twisted Joch’s skin around to have a better look at his arm. Joch made a tisst noise, but allowed the intrusion of his person. "There is a dingy boat in the harbor with a sea dragon painted on its bow. It is the mark of Joch Traspt."

Nuts, why do I have to leave a signature wherever I go? Joch said aloud, "That ship is not a dingy! How dare you! You wouldn’t know what to do with a better ship better than that one."

The man finally made his move. He pulled on Joch’s arm, revealing to the world the matching sea dragon crest that went along with the one on the Ocean Sprite’s haul. "I may not know much about ships, pirate, but I know a lot about prison cells. As captain of the Medelia Cove’s quartered guard and soldiers, I order you under arrest. You have a date with the gallows, Joch Traspt."

This is taking too long. In one quick movement, Joch pulled his arm free and rammed the other in his assailant’s stomach. As the captain doubled over, Joch made for his escape. He ran through the bazaar, knowing that somewhere, somehow they would find him if he didn’t act fast. Gotta’ hide.

And then he saw it. A small hole off to the side of a group of tent shops was just the escape he needed. The hole led to the sewers, the sewers led to the ocean, and the ocean would always bring him back to his beloved Ocean Sprite. It was a great, if smelly, plan.

"There he is!"

Without a second thought, Joch plugged his nose, took a deep breath, and jumped into the hole. There was a squish and a splash, then his world was filled with darkness.

He started walking, making his way through the underworld that was the sewer system. Small torches lined the walls of the tunnels. They cast an eerie, fluorescent glow about the muck and grime, kept alight by the maintenance men and beggars who found their livelihood in these tunnels.

Joch turned a corner and spied the fading light of sunset at the end of the final tunnel. He took a step forward towards freedom when he froze numb with fear at what he saw. It was a big, crocodile with mean, red eyes. Its scales were checkered with the color of molten lava. Oh toenails! Joch cursed. Man, am I in a pickle.

The crocodile snapped at him as he searched for something to help him. In his hunt, his eyes laid sight on a peculiar sign. Hanging over a violin, it read; Use in case of croc. Music soothes the savage beast.

Joch rubbed his hands together, a joyful grin spreading across his scab-ridden face. "Oooo, plot device!"

Breaking the glass casing around the violin, he picked it up and set it into place. Thanking his long dead mother for the lessons all those years ago, he began to play. Slowly, ever so slowly, he didn’t stop until the soft snores of the beast filled the tunnel.

Jackpot! Carefully, ever so carefully, he tiptoed his way around the crocodile and out of the sewers. As he stepped out into relatively clean water, he drew in a deep breath. They hadn’t caught him. His ship had all the supplies he would need for weeks. All he had to do was reach the Ocean Sprite without being found out, and he would be home free.

The first thing he would do once he made it to his ship would be to climb up to the crow’s nest and let the wind brush over him. It would never matter what happened. As long as he could savor that feeling on the south seas, he would always be a pirate.

Joch climbed up to the streets. There were no Medelian soldiers anywhere. Making a mad dash through the throngs of people, he only gave picking their pockets a back thought to reaching his ship.

When he made it to the docks, his lungs were already burning. Living on a ship didn’t do much to enhance cardiovascular activity. Maybe if I take up swimming... Joch didn’t get the chance to finish his thought. There before him was his wonderful, lovely, beloved Ocean Sprite, guarded by a lone soldier. There were no other people about. The rest of the hands were probably sitting down to a nice meal at that moment.

Okay, I don’t want to enter a battle of engagement with this guy. He might alert his pals. So what is there left for me to do?

An idea struck him.

Joch stuffed his hands into his pockets and started his slow meander towards the guard. "Hello!"

He didn’t respond.

"Lovely night, isn’t it?"

"What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy? There is a terrible pirate about in this town. He might come back here to his boat."

Joch rolled his eyes. "Yes, I’m sure he will, but I have a question for you."

"I said, beat it!"

"But wait, do you happen to know what a flying saucer is?"

The guard was about to snap back a clever answer, but couldn’t find the words.

"You think on that. I’ll be on my way." The guard didn’t notice as Joch walked right past him. He was so stumped by the question, a broomstick could have been dancing in polka-dotted underwear and he still wouldn’t have seen it. Joch tried very hard not to laugh. Everyone knew that a flying saucer is what happens when a nudist spills his tea.

Joch was quiet about his work. He didn’t disturb the guard’s thought process as he untied his ship and shoved off. He was already well away from the dock when he heard someone yelling after him. It was the same captain of the guard who had assaulted him in the bar, standing on the edge of the planking, raising a fist at his escaping foe. Joch smiled and waved back at him. The captain shouted several profanities and began to thoroughly punish his guardsman for letting the dreaded pirate Traspt get away. Joch laughed all the harder.

The sun was now gone. Readying itself to wake once again in the morning and illuminate the world for another day. The stars shone brightly in the night sky, clear enough to navigate to. They danced and sparkled high above, giving man the wonder of feeling great and insignificant at the same time.

Joch felt none of those things. He was only a pirate sailing aimlessly against the surf. There was no need for navigation because he didn’t believe in destinations.

Taking hold of a thick, sturdy rope, he pulled himself up reach by reach, grasp by grasp. It wasn’t long before he had his hand on the small tub at the top of the sailing mast. He crawled into the crow’s nest and leaned against the mast.

Starlight fell and reflected against his eyes. The wind swept against his skin, cleaning him from any transgressions that may have happened that day. His sudden laughter broke out and chimed in with those of the dolphins and the songs of the whales. He was Joch Traspt, a pirate of disreputable reputation, and he was free.
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