Castor batted wispy tendrils of fog aside as they steadied the helm, squinting as they peered out into the murky night. Cool, briny air rushed past them with the Windscar’s onward voyage cutting through the waves, their half-sails keeping the ship’s pace at a meager three knots—the best they could manage with such low visibility. The beaver’s rudder tail flapped, their nose wrinkling. No amount of squinting or waving helped.
“Oy, Sunny!” Castor called out, turning to look up at the mainmast’s rigging, where the otter navigator perched to peer out over the dark sea ahead. “Anything?”
“Not a whisker, Captain, it’s a real pea soup,” Sunny called back. “Reckon we’re still a good ten leagues from Freepaw Harbour.”
Castor nodded. At that distance with the fog, Freepaw’s signal lights wouldn’t be in view for another few hours. “Keep ‘em peeled then. We don’t want to drift south and end up running into the fangs.” Those rocky islets had claimed more than enough ships already, and Castor had no intention of letting their beloved Windscar add to that tally.
“Aye aye, Captain!”
Booted feet on the deck drew Castor’s attention, and they turned to greet Misty with a cordial nod, the raccoon first mate strolling up to join Castor on the aft deck. She leaned on the gunwale next to Castor, her pink shock of hair tossing lightly in the breeze.
“I know you don’t want to hear it,” Misty said, “but it’s still me job to tell you we oughta drop anchor and wait it out. Freepaw ain’t going nowhere.”
“Aye, but every hour wasted is a better chance at someone beating us to the treasure. Besides, once the harbour’s in sight, I can get us into port, bet your stripes on it!”
Misty tilted her head, her ear flicking. “You really think someone dug up a clue to ol’ Calico Jill’s stash? Seems far fetched. Me? I still think Jill’s laughing her tail off with all her treasure somewhere in the Caribbean.”
“Might be,” Castor agreed, “But what kind of pirates would we be if we didn’t chase down that rumor, eh? I reckon Jill wants someone to find it, just to make her more famous.”
“You just want the chance at being pirate king.” Misty chuckled. “I suppose it don’t matter to me either way, so long as we fill our pockets and our bellies, and—”
“Oy, Captain! Ship ahoy! It’s headed straight at us, port side, and awful fast!”
Sunny’s yell sent both Castor and Misty hopping, Castor seizing the ship’s wheel and spinning it, attempting to veer the Windscar out of the path of the oncoming vessel. Misty rushed to the port side, taking position at one of the gun batteries in the event they needed to fire. If the other ship had spotted them, they’d likely try to avoid ramming, unless…
“Bad news, Captain, it’s the Wraith! They’re turning for a broadside!”
“Brace yourselves, mates!” Castor shouted, gripping the smooth wood of the wheel in tight paws. “Be ready for boarders!”
Boom! Boom!
A horrible, splintering crack rent the air in the wake of the twin cannon shots, followed by Sunny’s yelp. The otter slid down a rope and leapt to the deck as a chunk of their mainmast toppled, the mast, rigging, and billowing sail all slamming down over the deck and rocking their schooner. The whole deck listed on an angle that nearly sent Castor sprawling, before the broken top half of their mast tipped overboard, the structure slipping into the sea with a dismal splash.
“Barnacles,” Castor muttered, grabbing the free-turning wheel to steady both it and themselves. “Not again.” Raising their voice, they shouted back to their crew, “Look alive, mateys! We’ve got company!”
“I’m alright!” Misty called out. “Sunny, you with us?”
“Barely. Think I sprained my tail!”
“We’re going to have more than sprained tails to worry about, here they come!”
Right on cue, the shadow of a larger vessel loomed, its red-dyed sails furling as it drew alongside the Windscar, the enemy galleon matching the limping speed of Castor’s damaged ship. A pair of boarding ladders thumped, hooks latching onto their ship’s gunwale and locking them in place.
Abandoning the wheel, Castor stepped up to join his crew, the beaver and Misty drawing their cutlasses while Sunny primed his revolver—not that it would do much good with the Wraith holding their ship hostage and ready to plug them full of holes, but it was the principle of the matter.
From the swirling fog, a towering figure strolled into view across the boarding ladder, surprisingly light on its feet, with a tufted tail flicking behind it. A broad-brimmed captain’s hat rested atop its head, and as the menacing mammal stepped aboard Castor’s ship, there could be no doubt as to his identity.
“Blackmane,” Castor said, crossing their arms over their chest and glaring at the hulking lion standing on their deck. “What an unpleasant surprise. To what do we owe the displeasure?”
Blackmane took his time answering, rolling his broad shoulders and tilting his head back to sniff the air, his wide feline muzzle wrinkling as if he smelled something foul. A pair of his crew scuttled across the boarding ladders behind him, a Maine coon cat and a fox brandishing blades, the two cronies dropping down onto the deck and flanking their captain with wicked grins as they eyed Castor’s huddled crew.
The lion spread his paws, as if welcoming Castor, though the gesture’s benevolence was rather tarnished by the twin sword hilts revealed in his belt beneath his crimson coat. “Imagine me surprise, mates, when such feeble prey should scurry in front of us while on our way to port. It’s almost like destiny—a spot o’ revenge on me way to claim the pirate king’s crown, eh?”
“Were you always this dramatic, or did you have to work at it?” Castor shot back. “What is your obsession with us, anyhow? Are you still sore about us swiping the Bluesea Trading Company prize from under your nose?”
A growl rumbled from Blackmane’s throat. “Oh that was merely another sting in a long mess of thorns ye pricked me with. Ye’ve managed to plague me since way back when ye took me groggacino at SailAle and dealt me such a grievous insult, deriding my countenance and nature!”
The cat piped up behind Blackmane. “But sir, you are a pretty kitty.”
“SILENCE!” the lion roared. “That’s not the point!” He stabbed a finger at Castor, one dark claw curled as if to rend the beaver. “This… pretentious pretender thinks they can just put on a captain’s hat and do as they please!”
“He’s really still upset that you took his drink order by mistake?” Misty said.
“Seems so. Not my fault we both put our name down as, ‘world’s best captain’.”
“Wasn’t it a completely different drink?” Sunny put in.
“Yup. Who even orders their groggacino with ten ice cubes and all the toppings anyway? Blech!”
If it were possible for Blackmane to scowl any harder, the lion’s face might have puckered. He slashed the air with a paw, gesturing to the three cornered crewmates. “Now then, I’ll just be relievin’ ye of all yer gold before I be on me way.”
“Joke’s on you!” Castor said, “We don’t have any.”
“I shoulda known. All yer silver then.”
“Fresh out of that too I’m afraid,” Misty chimed in.
Blackmane faltered, his tail lashing. “Copper? Bronze? Gems?”
Sunny shrugged. “I haven’t seen a gem since Misty dragged us through an old mine to chase a squirrel.”
“That little rascal stole me sandwich!”
“No treasure at all? Well what good are ye!” Blackmane roared, stalking towards the three and looming over them, his thick mane whipping in the wind. “Call yourself pirates, and not an ounce of treasure aboard?” Turning, he snarled to his henchmen, “Bones! Get below decks and search up anything that be of value.” He pointed to the Maine coon, jerking his head towards the hatch leading into the Windscar’s hold.
The cat nodded, snapping a sloppy salute. “Aye, Captain, but I’m Skully, he’s Bones.”
The fox elbowed him in the ribs. “No, you was Skully last week! I get to be Skully now!”
“But it’s Sunday, so that’s meanin’ I get one more day to be Skully.”
“I am surrounded by nincompoops. I don’t care which of you does it, just go!”
“Aye, Captain!” Both of them scuttled off into the ship’s hold, the sounds of their bickering fading below decks.
It was hard to tell with the fog, but Castor could have sworn a puff of steam leaked from Blakmane’s ears. The lion pulled his cutlass free and gestured with it, strolling towards Castor and their crew with an air of casual disinterest.
“Now what to do with ye lot? Could scuttle this rotten scow ye call a ship—”
“Oy! The Windscar’s a fine vessel, and you know it!” Misty yelled, shaking her blade at Blackmane.
“—but seems a bit unsporting,” Blackmane continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Ye ain’t going far quick without a mainmast, and it’ll be far more satisfying to see you limp into port when I’ve taken the pirate king’s crown.” He offered a nasty grin, his tail lashing. “Might even give ye an invitation to the coronation. How’s that tickle your fancy?”
“I think the only crown you’ll be getting is the kind that comes with a kit’s meal,” Castor said with a smirk.
“Why you—”
From below deck, Skully, or it might have been Bones, called out, “They got beans, Captain!”
Castor groaned. “Not the beans!” That was a good month’s worth of supplies down there, and these thieves were fixing to take the whole lot.
Blackmane gave a wicked laugh. “Aye, we’ll be takin’ yer beans then. Until next time, ‘Captain’.” Sheathing his cutlass, he whirled around and strode back towards his own vessel, shouting out, “To me, mates! We sail for port, and for the best groggacino on the seven seas!”
The thump and thunk of barrels rolling across the deck punctuated the silence as Castor, Misty, and Sunny looked at each other.
“What do we do, Captain?” Sunny asked.
“I know what I want to do! I want to kick his smug tail!” Misty said, brandishing her cutlass.
“I know, but not yet,” Castor said, watching while Blackmane’s crew loaded barrels of supplies into their ship from the Windscar’s hold. “Once they leave, we repair as best we can and make haste for Freepaw. If anyone knows about the pirate king’s treasure, it’ll be our old friend Captain Kate at SailAle.”
“It’ll take us days to reach port with just the foresail,” Sunny lamented.
“Aye, Blackmane’ll have a head start, but we’ve got something he doesn’t.”
“What’s that?” Misty asked.
Castor grinned. “Charm.”
Sunny looked skeptical. “Charm doesn’t typically dig up treasure, Captain.”
“No, but it means the right people will be willing to talk to us. With a bit of help, I know we can find that treasure first! You with me?”
Misty and Sunny glanced at each other, and with only a moment’s hesitation, both nodded. “Aye, Captain!”
Castor pumped their fist to the night sky. “Onward then, to adventure, and groggacino!”
***
Can our heroes find the treasure and catch up with the dastardly Captain Blackmane? Follow along with Castor, Misty, and Sunny through the con game and the online lore pieces, and make sure to catch the first and last parts of the story acted out at our opening and closing ceremonies! Happy treasure hunting, buccaneers!
Con game secret number: 1906