Information

David has a minion!

Minion the Keelsql

David
Legacy Name: David

The

Storm Montre
Owner: hermes

Age: 19 years, 8 months, 3 weeks

Born: June 27th, 2006

Adopted: 15 years, 11 months, 4 weeks ago

Adopted: March 22nd, 2010

Statistics

Level: 370
Strength: 925
Defense: 917
Speed: 918
Health: 917
HP: 917/917
Intelligence: 1,317
Books Read: 1286
Food Eaten: 8
Job: Special Operative

references

It was a dark and stormy night.

Well, it was not night, but saying it certainly adds to the story. What is so dramatic about "murky, frigid afternoon?" Anyway, that is not where the story starts.

My crew and I had gone out the night before, celebrating the riches we had found. Nothing calls for foaming pints and rum left and right quite like a chest full of booty, am I right? I found myself lured in by a game of poker with a bunch of local sailors: some treasure hunters much like myself and my men, the rest simple fishermen. The latter folded quickly one by one, and soon it was just me and another captain going head to head - hand to hand? - and the stakes were high. He had added a map to the unnervingly growing pile of gold, most of which was mine to make up for the value of said map to match his bet. But this was not just any map, it was the map. I had to have it. He must have been able to tell by the way my eyes were no longer focused on reading his face, for he grinned and spread his cards face-up in front of him. "Call." I looked at my cards for the first time in several minutes. Then at his. "Full house," he said, self-satisfied, already pulling the pile of goods to his side of the table. "Hold that thought," I said, laying down my cards one by one. "... And let go of the pile before anyone gets hurt." My cards lined up on the table. "Four of a kind." As I leaned back in my chair, victorious, my men gathered closer and secured the winnings. My opponent rose and nodded. "Well played," he said softly, and turned on his heel, heading straight for the barmaid. A great loser. I, on the other hand, am a terrible winner: I gloat. It is admittedly one of my, albeit clearly few, flaws.

The rest of the night is a blur, so let us save me the embarrassment of attempting to recollect and skip to the following morning, shall we? So...

I woke up, greeted by a john's blushing butt cheeks, and our clothes strewn everywhere. I struggled for a while, gathering my belongings, but at least I managed to not make much noise, in spite of my then still continued inebriation. I am fairly convinced I could have tipped over lit oil lamps and left the room ablaze without as much as a stir from Cheeks though, but it was mostly to see if I could. Be quiet that is, of course, not burning a man alive. I have, but that's a different story for a different time.

Ready to face my men, I spared a kiss for the beau on each of his face cheeks, and went on my way.

It was a brisk morning. The sky was clear of clouds, and the sun had risen just above the horizon. All in all a fine morning to add to our wealth with the help of our latest acquired map. Bless your hand, Full House. Bless mine.

While waiting for my arrival, the crew had gathered supplies sufficient for three months at sea. Everyone greeted me heartily as I stepped onboard, all presumably as drunk as I was. We really had not spared anything last night. At the time, I could somewhat put together what the night had involved, and I know only I over-shared because the men were on my ass for hours on end. What I said, I cannot for the life of me recall, but it was something. Who knows, it might come to me in a dream.

So!

The sails had been set, and with the wind on our side, we swiftly crushed through the waves out into the open ocean. The cool, refreshing air sobered me up fast, and I threw myself at the map; guiding the men at their posts, keeping the ship en route for the treasure awaiting us ahead. Suddenly, gulls fled towards land, land we hardly had in sight any more except to our crew atop the mast with each their monocular. A chill danced down my spine as the wind suddenly blew harsher, pulling in dark clouds from god-knows-where. I rushed to the helm, pushed the steering crewman out of the way, and seized control of the ship, attempting to steer around the storm. The wind retaliated and thrust the ship sideways through the waves, hurling my men halfway across the deck from where they were standing. My hands grasped tighter, but I was struggling. Wave after wave tumbled my men just as they would regain their stance. Thunder crackled nearer and nearer, and soon the lightning was close enough to momentarily blind us. Struggling. Struggling. Snap! All was white. I clung to the wheel as I lost my footing, not knowing what was headed my way. I should've run, ducked, anything. Then it came for me - the mast. It had broken in half by the lightning, heavily charred where it was hit. There was no time for me to seek cover. I was left to my own devices as a result of my own arrogance. Admittedly, yet another flaw. The massive log collided with the helm, hard, and sent me flying overboard, wheel in hand as I still clung desperately for dear life.

... And that's how I'm here. With you. Right now. If it hadn't been for you, I'd probably be dead. Fish food. Shark food, if you will, heh. Sorry, that was silly of me. What did you say your name was again?

Gaige.