Information

Glasgow Grin
Legacy Name: Glasgow Grin

The Hydrus Qrykee
Owner: MagnusTheRed

Age: 10 years, 9 months, 1 week

Born: July 9th, 2013

Adopted: 8 years, 6 months, 4 weeks ago

Adopted: September 20th, 2015

Statistics

• Level: 42
   
• Strength: 10
   
• Defense: 11
   
• Speed: 10
   
• Health: 10
   
• HP: 0/10
   
• Intelligence: 2
   
• Books Read: 2
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Unemployed

“There's nothing more fearsome on all of the oceans than the wrath of a mermaid."

Once, many years ago, there was a particularly successful and infamous pirate known as Captain Jacques 'Smiling Jack' De'ath. His criminal career spanned almost a decade and half, his list of victims was in the hundreds, and he was known and feared by all honest seamen the world over. Law-keepers, trading companies, privateers, and even rival pirates all tried to have Smiling Jack's head on a platter at one time or another, but all failed. The very lucky ones escaped with their lives. The slightly less lucky ones died in their attempts. The unlucky ones lived to fall into Smiling Jack's tender mercies.

It was thought that he was impossible to catch. That he would never hang. Some said that he was blessed by Merana, the wicked Sea-Witch, and she gave him command over the seas in exchange for a share of the riches. And, of course, a payment of fresh, living victims to be fed to the waves. They even whispered that he was her son, fathered by some handsome sailor who had the misfortune to catch the sea-goddess's eye - a pretty, fragile toy soon tired of and thrown away. But whatever the truth of his origins was, for many years it seemed that Smiling Jack was unstoppable.

Then he brought about his own ruin when he called down the wrath of the mermaids on his head.

It all started when he murdered one of their sisters for her beautiful pearl and coral necklace. Smiling Jack spotted her sunning herself on a rock in the shallows, approaching her with soft words and promises of pretty jewels before sliding his sword between her ribs. A life taken for a pretty bauble, nothing more to Smiling Jack than a trinket to gain the favours of a particularly beautiful serving-wench back at his favourite tavern. He did the deed without hesitation or mercy, and left her cold and lifeless body lying on the sand to rot under the tropical sun. There were no witnesses apart from his crew and Smiling Jack sailed on, resting assured that he had just committed the perfect crime.

But the daughters of the sea know all. And they do not forgive and they do not forget. Their sister's dying cry had reached their ears and from that day forward there was not a single place on or below the waves that Smiling Jack could go to escape their vengeance.

Soon the pirates found themselves caught in the grips of the fiercest storm any of them had ever seen, tossed to and fro for days on end. Until on the fourth day when, with the sickening sound of shattering wood and breaking bone, the ship was dashed onto the shores of a rocky little island. It was a tiny little outcrop barely a mile long, far from any shipping lanes or indeed anywhere they knew. And although the trees on the island allowed them to patch up the hole in the side of their ship, every time they even attempted to sail away another storm mysteriously brewed up on the horizon and crashed down on their heads. Above the howling wind and rain, they could hear the sound of women's voices, singing in tongues none of them understood. And then they knew that they were the prisoners of the mermaids.

They soon realised that their punishment was much more than the storms that kept then pinned the island, for the seas around them were completely devoid of fish. Not matter how hard they tried to catch a bite or how long they waited, their efforts proved utterly fruitless. Unable to find more than a few rats, small birds, and assorted plants on their prison, and with supplies rapidly dwindling, the pirates soon became desperate. Some found religion and prayed. Others gathered by the sea shore and began tossing their most precious treasures into the depths and calling desperate apologies at the indifferent waves.

Despite their efforts, the storms howled on and their hunger grew unbearable. When one of their number was stabbed to death in an argument over a mouldy ship's biscuit, they realised that there was only one thing to do. The cook and the quartermaster looked at each other, nodded, and silently dragged the corpse into the depths of the ship. That night's dinner was a hearty - and very strongly seasoned - meat stew. One by one they gave into their hunger and choked down the well-cooked meat with tears in their eyes. All except for one. The captain himself tucked into the stew with a disturbing relish, practically licking his lips as he ate. All of his crew noticed the gleam in his eyes and shared the same silent, meaningful glance that the cook and the quartermaster shared earlier.

It was he who killed the mermaid; it was he who brought this curse down on them in the first place.

And while others threw gold and gems in handfuls into the waves to appease the mermaids' wrath, the crew noticed that Smiling Jack refused to part with the necklace that started it all.

For now, though, they said and did nothing. Smiling Jack was a seasoned killer and all the crew feared his skill with a blade and gun. He was well known to be merciless with both, using any excuse to shed blood and inflict pain. Even when not raiding ships, the captain would extract as much pain as he could from those around him. He would often order his crew members to be brutally beaten for putting so much as a toe out of line, watching them bleed and scream with an expression of satisfaction on his perpetually-smiling face. He only managed to attract and maintain the crews that he did thanks to the plunder that he was able to win, their lust for riches overcoming their fear of Smiling Jack's cruelty. There had been only one mutiny under Smiling Jack's command during in his whole career, the remnants of which were visible in the faint scars that made their jagged way across his cheeks and contorted his mouth into a constant smile. There were rumours that, when Captain Jacques caught the man who scarred his face, he slit him from collarbone to groin and threw him to the sharks. The rest of the mutineers were left on a sand-bar to sit helplessly until the rising tide swallowed them.

And let it not be said, either, that the crew themselves were not cruel. They were perfectly happy to kill and maim alongside their bloodthirsty captain, to seize helpless women from the streets of towns they landed in or taverns they drank at. It was not some moral line being crossed that caused most to turn against Smiling Jack, at least not for most of them, but simple self-preservation and the fact that most cruel people cannot stand it when they receive a taste of cruelty in turn. Bullies, as a rule, make the loudest victims.

Only when their new source of meat ran out a handful of days later did the starving crew make their move. Half a dozen of them rose at midnight and crept towards the captain's chambers with ropes and rags clutched in their hands, easing the door open with barely a creak. They snuck up to the sleeping captain's still form and descended on him as one. Smiling Jack had barely any time to wake before he found his ankles and wrists roughly bound, a filthy rag shoved in his mouth to silence his oaths and threats.

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