Developing a map for where I hid my riches made for some unfortunate casualties, but what were the lives of a few in exchange for a challenge? Perhaps what is known in the afterlife to me is equivalent to nothing, but to see the younger adventurers make attempts at obtaining what they didn’t earn is hilarious. I can only imagine my starry eyes watching down as I laugh at the misfortunes of those who fall for my traps.
Horrific? Through what lens? An assassin sees value in money far more than they see value in life. Should it be a shock that a pirate does the same? The thieves of the seas, or so that was the original intention. The modern day didn’t age too well for an old dog like meself. I can still feel the accent I possessed haunt me, a slip-up like that was critical when making my exchanges.
The last few seconds I had were critical, I had to make them count. Being thrown overboard was my final request as am buried with the seas, the way it should be. My crew be loyal and wealthy, but those foolish enough to embark on my treasure hunt are disposable. Find value in the strong and dispose of the weak.
Throw money at the poor and they’ll dance their final dance for you. But in success came obsession, a mental chain to never be escaped until their victory streak comes to an end. If one didn’t guess yet, I hope to be watching below as those who try to get my treasures join me. The hopelessness they face as they embrace a watery grave fills me with joy.
I never was one to lend a hand, ya hear?
Even in death, I intend to claim the lives of many. So come for Cap’n Harver’s treasure, I dare ye’. For my map is finally complete, and now to embrace the sea. The life of a pirate has grown too old for me.
Care to read a few tales? I just happen to have a few!