[Story] Return of the Uncrowned King
The older man paced the docks. It had been almost an hour since he arrived, and he was getting impatient. He had a thick grey beard which he pulled on restlessly with one hand. In the other, he held his sword, which shined wickedly under the light of the moon. It was almost midnight.
"Where is he?" the older man said to himself. He had come here for his revenge, and he would be damn well pissed if this was some kind of joke. He'd already been played for a fool once, and it lost him a good arm. They'd all pay for what they did in good time, though. He was sure of that. Suddenly, he heard a low hissing noise. He turned to see a wharf rat a few feet away from him, looking in his direction, teeth bared.
Now, he had to be careful here. One quick move and it'd jump. Wharf rats aren't very big, but they have quite a nasty bite. He reached slowly towards the pocket of his coat, where he kept his pistol. The rat lowered itself into a pouncing position, its beady little eyes staring at him viciously.
It happened in a heartbeat. He pulled out his gun and the rat jumped. He shot it straight through the head and it landed at his feet, splattering his boots with blood. That was the first rat to die to him tonight, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. With a kick, he sent the rat corpse into the sea.
Turning back around again, he saw that he had a spectator. The young man in front of him clapped his hands and remarked, "Not bad, not bad at all. Few have the balls to take on one of those things."
"When ye been in Bilgewater as long as I have, ye learn to survive." the other man responded with a slight grin. Then his face went straight and he asked, "Did ye bring what I asked for?"
"Ah, straight to the point I see. I have the location of Gregory." replied the young man. He had black hair and brown eyes. The older man noticed this, as well as the smile on his face and his ignorance of who he was speaking to. It was clear he was new to Bilgewater.
"Well, what are ye waiting for? Give it to me, now!" growled the older man. He had been waiting here far too long. Besides, this boy wouldn't last long. If he found out the identity of the man in front of him, things would get ugly. This city was already on the brink of falling to pieces. Ever since that Fortune girl came into power, the city had been at war with itself. If it was found that he was alive again, the city might just sink into absolute chaos, and his throne would be gone for good. In order to keep his secrecy intact, he would have to dispose of this miserable child.
The young man took a half-step back, and said slowly, "He... he's at Butcher's Bridge. He's waiting at the entrance to the bridge."
Butcher's Bridge. A fitting name for the death that was about to take place on there.
"And now for my pay, right?" asked the young man.
The older man started laughing. This was precious. A dumb kid, that's all he was. He'd die quickly.
"Well, lad, I got a special reward in mind. In return for yer good work, I'll be sure to make yer death a fast one." The young man didn't have the chance to comprehend what was just said before the older man charged and stabbed him through the neck with his sword. The metal blade easily gouged the soft flesh, just as it always did. The boy fell in front of the older man. A stream of blood gushed from his neck and slipped between the cracks of the docks. In a moment, the lad's eyes shut and he was dead. It indeed was a fast death.
Another victim to the king. There wasn't any time to think, however. He had to get to Butcher's Bridge before his target got away. Stepping over the body, the older man ran towards the bridge. Along the way, he must have seen over a dozen corpses. One was suspended on a meat hook, turning back and forth with the breeze that came off the sea. Another was decapitated, the head a few inches away. A third was badly burned, his face unrecognizable. It was evident that his supposed death took its toll on the city.
Finally, he arrived at Butcher's Bridge. Ahead, a lone figure stood, occasionally looking to his left or right. Just the man he was looking for. Now he just needed to find a distraction. The older man looked around him quickly, and saw a small rock nearby. He picked it up and regarded it. If he could find something loud, something that'd make a lot of noise, that'd do it. He just needed to get his attention for a moment. He looked back up to find the man was... was now looking directly at him. Shit. Damn it, why did he reach for that rock? This was bad, very bad. That was two people who he had revealed himself to now. The man stared in disbelief, and after what seemed like ages, he uttered one word.
"Gangplank?"
Even he recoiled at the sound of his own name.
"Gregory. Ye look well." Damn it all, why couldn't he get the words out of his mouth? This... this yellow-bellied traitor had left him the moment things went south. Nothing but a coward, that's all he was. Somehow, he thought that he would know what to say here. But instead, he just stared at the man in front of him.
"You're... you're alive? How? The ship... it was destroyed. Blown to ruin. I just barely managed to get out myself, not without losing something along the way." He gestured towards his leg, and suddenly Gangplank noticed that he had a piece of wood where his leg was. A peg leg, as it was called.
"Aye. Ye and the others cut and run the second ye get the chance down. What kind of loyalty is that? The lot of ye disgust me." He spat the last word with menace. Vengeance was at hand.
"We thought you were dead, all of us. That bitch Sarah has been searching for all of us ever since that day. We had no choice but to go into hiding." Gregory was fidgeting with something in his hand as he spoke. It
"Ye think I'd believe that shit for even a second?" This was just another ploy. He'd sooner throw himself to the Kraken than be tricked again.
"It's not a lie. None of us wanted to turn on you, sir."
"Don't try that with me, boy. I'm not here to listen to yer sweet talk, I'm here for revenge." Gangplank slowly walked forward. He didn't want to have to chase the bastard through the city, but he needed to get closer for a good shot. Unfortunately, Gregory noticed, and in turn backed away a few steps.
"Don't do this, sir. We can rebuild the crew, make a new ship. Together, we can return you to the rightful throne." The words were so eloquent and so sincere, Gangplank almost believed him. Then he remembered that this could just be another trick.
"Yer... yer telling the truth, now? Swear on Nagakabouros." Two could play at this game.
"I swear."
"Alright." Gangplank sheathed his sword and walked forward. Gregory didn't back away. Perfect.
He was getting closer... almost there...
He could feel the sweat on his forehead.
He pulled out his pistol in a flash. One shot, and he could take the vengeance he so long dreamed of.
Just one shot...
But he froze. Something inside of him stopped. He couldn't pull that trigger. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in ages.
Regret.
In an instant, Gregory hurled the object in his hands towards Gangplank. It hit him in the face and let out a thick black ooze. All of the sudden, he couldn't see. He wiped the substance off his face with the sleeve of his coat, and after a moment regained his vision. But it was too late. Gregory was gone.
He swung his blade against the ground in anger. He could've and he should've... but instead, he hesitated.
Why? What made him stop? This was a traitor, a thief! He knew he'd been betrayed. So why didn't he take that shot?
A sickening thought emerged in his mind. Perhaps... perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps he really hadn't been betrayed by his men.
It was too much to take in at one time. He staggered back and leaned against the wall. Instead of thinking about it, he thought once again about Sarah. She caused his entire downfall, and gave him these terrible scars. He'd have her head, that was for sure. She thought she could take Bilgewater for herself.
But she was wrong, dead wrong. He'd take Bilgewater back, even if he had to take a thousand heads.
He'd be king again, he'd return to his throne.
These feelings of doubt inside him were strong, but the hatred in his heart was stronger. This was just a mistake, a minor setback.
Soon enough, this town would remember his name again.
The uncrowned king, the saltwater scourge, the dread pirate...
Gangplank.
Alright, so this is a reworked piece of one I did before. It takes place a few weeks after Gangplank was removed from power. If you have any questions or comments, feel free to leave them below! Thanks!