Daily Prompt, events, folk metal, heavy metal, humor, pirate metal, pirates, serial fiction, writing

The Good Pirate: The Quest For Ships P8 Wooden Leg

The Good Pirate was not at all surprised to hear the voice as he climbed aboard the as yet unnamed sloop he’d purchased from the man whom the unnamed bay had been named after. He’d been warned that the ship was haunted by the previous captain, a fun loving and jovial chap if ever there was one. It was the reason he was boarding the ship alone in the middle of the night when he could have so easily been asleep in his bunk like the rest of his crew.

As he climbed up the boarding ladder at the rear of the ship and heard the voice, he had not seen what or who the voice belonged too but he had heard if clearly. It was polite and welcoming and the Good Captain did not fear what he was about to see when he looked up.

Climbing up onto the aft deck and ducking under the aft rig so as not to get a smack in the ear by the large lump of timber the Good Captain made his way towards the main deck where he had heard the voice come from. Because the ship had been unmanned for its trip there was nothing to trip over in the darkness as the Good Captain made his way across the main deck. He hadn’t heard the voice again but he knew it was not the last he’d heard of it.

“Aye matey?” The Good Captain called into the darkness. “I be…”

“I know who ye be me friend.” The voice in the darkness said.

Then without warning a glow appeared at the base of the main mast. It was a glow as if lit by several large candles but the Good Captain knew there was no such light source present on the all but vacant ship.

Obscured by the mast itself the Good Captain could see a figure sitting on the deck with his back to the mast. He could not make out any details but it looked like a well built man wearing a large pirate hat and he knew immediately that what sat on the opposite side of the mast was the source of the voice that welcomed him aboard.

The Good Captain stepped up past the mast and looked down at the pirate. He was quite a strange looking man, several strange features stood out, aside from the fact that he was a ghost, but the Good Captain knew better than to point out other’s short comings so he chose not to focus on them Instead he looked the pirate directly in the eyes and let the small amber glow reveal what it needed to.

“Sit down me bucko ‘n let me tell ye a tale.“ the pirate said.

The Good Captain sat down on the step that lead up to the front deck, he shuffled slightly and moved his feet into a comfortable position. Unlike a candle light, or a flame from a torch the light that lit the pirate before him did not flicker, it was just there lighting up only the man himself.

The insignia on the pirate’s jacket, the stripes and the buttons revealed nothing of the man’s identity or his origins as some pirate attire did. His hat was the same, no distinguishing markings other than a large chunk of it missing as if it had been hit by something fast moving that he was lucky avoided his head.

Without any further words, warning or alerts the ghost captain began speaking.

“I’ve got a leg, ’tis made out o’ wood.”

The Good Captain looked down and sure enough as the glow of light moved and seemed to focus on the deck it revealed a leg made of wood. Although the finite detail could not be made out in the glow it did look like a well made leg.

“I bought it in a tavern from a gnarly ole dude. When I got shot t’ pieces by a cannon ball.”

The story was obviously an odd place to start given the two men had just met but if there was one thing the Good Captain knew it was that ghosts did not always do things as normal people did.

“Th’ damn thin’ it did cut me down t’ size.” The ghostly figure seemed to pause and take a breath before he spoke again. “Did ye know me hearty that I used t’ be quite tall. Now look at me!”

The Good Captain knew better than to interrupt another pirate’s story so he remained quiet and waited for the man to talk. However the look upon his face must have been one of shock because when the ghostly pirate spoke again his words indicated that he had indeed read the Good Captain’s face, or his mind.

“Aye don’t be a worryin’ ‘bout a thin’ thar me good matey fer it ain’t th’ end o’ me tale.” Another pause filled the night air for a moment. “Ye’ see a couple o’ slugs o’ me ole tipple Buckfast Powersmash, t’ dull th’ pain, an’ o’ course I was ready t’ go again.” The ghostly pirate took another breath, as if it was needed for his survival and continued his story. “But those bastard ‘ave nay seen th’ likes o’ me afore ’cause I stood up on me one good leg ‘n began t’ fight once again.”

As amusing as the story was the Good Captain knew better than to laugh, or even hint a sign of laughter. He wasn’t afraid that the ghostly pirate before him would disappear, but he knew and understood respect for a fellow captain of distinguished stature and laughing was not the done thing.

Several seconds later the ghostly captain continued again.

“Then all o’ a sudden, can ye believe it? A cannonball hit me in th’ other knee!”

Previous Pirate story here.


  1. Thus was written well. Good job. : )

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