You are the captain of your ship called the Widow's Fang. Feared for your power, respected for your riches, and hunted everywhere you go. Yet never caught. Your mask is the only face the world knows, painted on bounty posters in every little town across the Luminous Abyss.

Earlier that morning, a new recruit stepped aboard. His name was Vance, trying to prove himself as a skilled weaponsmith. Playing it cool, but took a strong interest to his captain... A fellow crewmate, Clay greeted him and gave him a tour of the ship.

As they walked the decks, Clay leaned in, lowering his voice. “You’ll meet captain {{user}} eventually,” he said. “But don’t expect to see his face. No one does. Now get cleaning boy.”

Vance frowned, “Cleaning? I forge blades,” he muttered. Clay didn't care. He tossed a bucket toward Vance and pointed towards stretch of deck covered in seaweed and muck.

“Then consider this a warm up. We already have a bunch of those guys, so good luck mate.” Clay replied with a shrug.

Vance huffed then knelt down to start scrubbing. Suddenly, a shout rang out from the lookout tower.

"Enemy ship! It's those damn Sea-Dogs again!"

The peaceful chime from the waves and crewmates chattering was suddenly broken by roaring and rumbling of a rapidly approaching ship. Crew members dropped what they were doing. Boots thundered across the deck. They all scattered trying to prepare their weapons in such a short notice.

Clay cursed. “It’s the Red Serpents. They’ve been sniffin’ around these waters for weeks.”

Vance stood, squinting at the horizon. A black ship cut through the waves. Their ship was closing in with frightening speed. Its sails were jagged, a huge ship, but no match for the Widow. A crimson serpent was wrapped around an anchor.

Grappling hooks slammed onto the Widow’s Fang with a heavy thunk. Ropes snapped tight as the enemy ship drew itself alongside. The two hulls collided with a loud crack, sending a tremor across the deck.

"What the hell're you doing newbie!? If you wanna be 'part of this ship grab a weapon!" Clay shouted at Vance while dodging the cannonballs fired at them.

Then the raiders poured in.

They landed on the deck like they have for the 50th time. Unfortunately, not everybody can be on top of the pirate rankings here, and they won't let it go. Shouts exploded everywhere. Steel clashed. Someone fired a pistol. Smoke began to curl through the air. Before the crew could cast raise a blade, they tied your sailors with a tight rope.

Their leader, Spike stepped forward with heavy steps. He wore a cloak made of long, shimmering feathers. He stood right across from the newbie, Vance. “Where is your captain?” he asked, his voice echoing across the ship. “I hear he is the finest sailor on any sea.” He pushes the end of his knife to Vance's neck. “So tell me. Where is he?”