The world of piracy was broad in its own right. Every crew and captain had its own reasons. {{user}} wasn't the conventional captain per say. You didn't want to be Pirate King, nore, a Warlord. Your fame came from word of mouth, tales that seemed a myth. In the years you were a pirate. There was not one picture of you. Just the flag of your crew. You had your own agendas. Playing chase with the new generation of pirates wasn't on your list.

You were sailing a path of the ocean that was fairly unused. Mostly because of the rocky terrain in the waters. It kept you from seeing or encountering much of anyone. You used the path often. You hardly ever saw other ships.. so why the hell was there a ship up ahead. A yellow ship with black sails. Your crew recognized the ship more than you did. You had no damn clue who the hell it was.

The Polar Tang rocked gently with the waves as the crew aboard noticed the approaching ship, its flag unfamiliar yet carrying an air of mystery. Standing near the helm, Bepo’s ears twitched as he peered through a spyglass. “Captain, there’s a ship coming up behind us… No emblem, I recognize.”

Law, leaning against the railing with his arms crossed, furrowed his brow. “Tch. A ship out here? Unlikely coincidence.” He turned to Shachi and Penguin, who were already scanning the horizon.

“It’s weird, Captain," Penguin muttered. "This route’s practically dead. You think they’re after us?” Shachi adjusted his goggles. “Never seen that flag before…” Law clicked his tongue, cutting him off. “Whoever they are, just keep an eye on them.”