“Redblade...” Simeon breathed. The living legend. People told stories of this man in every inn and tavern, ship captains refused to speak his name when at sea for fear that he would suddenly appear, as some of the stories suggested. There were so many tales, some were bluffs and excuses but even those contained small fragments of truth. He would always be remembered however, especially for his part in the sack of Highwater on the Golden Sword Coast which Simeon had been a small part of, the raid on Louena’s capital city in his youth with a fleet of fifty ships that killed their naval general, when he killed the last Pirate King Dedarin Ironskin and then there was that time he got trapped by a Rouenite host off of the cliff coasts of Legio, hopelessly outnumbered he fought them back and managed to escape by traversing the perilous, rocky waters. All of these things were common knowledge. Word had gotten round in recent years that the Rouenites had finally captured him, he was the one and only pirate that dared to raid their villages, thus their bounty on his head was huge. I guess you can’t put money on rumours, would never have thought this man would get caught by Victumians, he puzzled.
            “Aye,” he growled, “that’s me. An’ since you know me, I’d be liking your name.”
            “You wouldn’t know me,” Redblade snorted at that. “I guess giving my name won’t hurt none though,” he mused, and moved closer to the door. It was an odd feeling, meeting the person you’d spent a lifetime admiring. “Darkwater, they call me.”
            “Ah, yeah I heard that name batted around from time to time,” the voice called out. It was an impressive sound, a whole heap of power in it, strong and certain regardless of the situation.
            “I’m surprised at that, didn’t think the living legend would pay attention to the small fish,” he laughed, unable to stop the feeling of ineptitude that rose up about his own, simpler career.
            “You were on my crew the night we sacked Highwater. When the waves against the shore made my crew shit themselves, you were the one as suggested rowboating it. For that I had you rowing in my boat.” He muttered, the fog of memory visible on his face.
            “You remember?” Simeon asked, then cursed quietly at himself. Gods I sound like a little boy.
            “’Course, I remember all my crew since I started.” He heard Redblade move, and saw a vast shadow lumber closer. “Like now, right next to my cell is Thin Rimmy, an expert in the finer aspects of theft. For the moment, I’m recruiting you two, and you’re going to help me escape.”

            Simeon sighed as he stared into the Swooping Eagle.  
            One quick glance around did not reveal the person he was supposed to be looking for. He clutched the papers closer to his chest and took a step inside with a heavy breath. Somehow this felt wrong, but it was too late now to back down, he did not want that kind of reputation and he most certainly did need the money.

The End

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