Scarlet With Drops Of Crimson

Sequence One: Memory Three

July 1718

Rumours had begun to spread of a fierce pirate captain terrorising the West Indies sailing on a galleon so rightly named the Scarlet Raider. According to recent activity, the mysterious sea captain had quickly built a reputation for themself as a scourge who mercilessly killed all their enemies with no mercy nor compassion – in particular, the pirate captain targeted Spanish ships.

While sailing with Captain Kenway, Samantha felt at home being amongst a crew who gave her more friendly smiles and louder cheer in their voices whenever they sang shanties to keep morale as high as the tides reeling their mighty brig across the Caribbean. Although she quite missed sailing alongside her two dear friends, Robert and Matthew, it was a satisfying change for Samantha; one that she would eventually submit to.

Just two clicks out from Cayman Sound, the Jackdaw sailed smoothly along the watery terrain. Not too far away, both Spanish and British ships were in conflict with one another, though Edward steered clear from the naval combat when Man O' War's were introduced into the volley.

Suddenly, a heavy fog quickly swept through, engulfing the brig in its white haze. Taking quick precaution, Edward bellowed at the men scampering around the deck of his ship.

"Douse all but mains!" Edward shouted authoritatively.

The men got to work and did as they were asked whilst making sure no rope was left to sabotage Edward's ship.

"I would advise caution here, captain. We trek through dangerous waters. Turncoats sail these waters in search of ships with black sails." Adéwalé shared warily as his eyes swept around the open seas.

"So this is what becomes of the men who once swore allegiance to the brethren court of Nassau..." Edward sighed in disappointment.

"Aye. And we must heed extra caution to the ships with red sails. They were once one of our own."

"Aye, truth. Once one of our own. I will not hesitate in ending their wretched lives, the turncoats."

"Ahoy, captain. Up ahead!"

Edward narrowed his eyes to focus on the silhouette of a ship ahead of them. He ordered his men to man the cannons in preparation for a potential ambush that was waiting for them. Every moment that passed, the men sweat profusely from anxiety and paranoia, their hearts beating rapidly in their chests like the drums of a marching band.

Once they sailed alongside the ship, they came to realise that the ship had already been destroyed; bodies mixed with debris and splintered timber floated on the surface of the water. Masts toppled over into the water where torn cloth of the sails and the flag danced rhythmically with the tide.

"No survivors, captain!" A sailor aboard the Jackdaw reported.

Warily, Edward navigated his ship past the wreckage and through the fog. More masts appeared from out of the fog, displaying the presence of rival sailors caught in the midst of war – whether they be willing participants or merely reluctant numbers to their respective country's navy. Cannons boomed similarly to the crash of thunder in a rapid explosive sound that sent shockwaves through the water, impacting wood and metal. Muskets and flintlocks snapped and crackled as lead was exchanged and steel met with stee.

Edward knew better than to stray into conflict involving numbers beyond his and his crew's capabilities. So he sailed away, ensuring that his ship wasn't caught in the cross-fire. Adéwalé pointed in the direction of a pirate ship sailing from their location, one that also donned red sails but with a flag that was distinctly unique in a way that rebelled against ordinary black flags.