Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-36855838-20190412061211

You are the captain of a brigantine[], you and your crew are privateers[], a type of mercenary which became quite popular in the golden age of piracy.

It was another day in the seaside capital, you were in a local sailor registry office, looking for people to join your crew (after half of them had either died or retired as a result of your most recent plunder) everything was fine until some order vessels arrived in the harbor.

The crew were singing deep, throaty chants which caused an uncomfortable itch inside of your chest.

It seemed others were being affected as well, some even went so far as to vacate their spot in line.

But you were ten spots from the service desk, you wouldn't give that up no matter how bad the itch got.

Eventually, the singing died out, and a man dressed in impractically long and flowing red robes strode in.

"Rejoice! You are free of corruption, worthy to undertake this most laudable task-"

A voice cut in over a muffled loudspeaker, "Hmmnffmmmnnn- number forty five, number forty five? Hmmmnfmmmnnn-"

You checked your ticket, number 54.

"-rewarded handsomely! Golden crosses and coin await you, as well as-"

"What?"

The mention of gold turned heads in these parts, it seemed the odd order monk would be getting some recruits of his own.

"All you must do is sail to an island by-"

"Number 46. Number 46? 47? 48?"

"-a group of monsters are inhabiting the area, we need some privateers to stop shipments and-"

"Number 54?"

WWYD

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The fairly blatant inspiration:

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