So I'm soloing through some souls voyages, and after the 4th island of fouls sans one hateful I get a little depressed and start netflixing through the rest. Over the next 2 hours of mindless skeleman decapitations I get one more hateful, two more disgraced, and the rest fouls…. my night was getting considerably depressing indeed.
I'm so distracted at this point that I neglect my ship long enough for a 4-man galley of decked out legends to roll up on me and start firing away. Naturally my boat's a goner, and the loss of a depressing number of skulls, even if they were mostly junk, just kind of adds a gallon of gasoline to my smoldering rage. All of a sudden I burn like an inferno.
I proceed to board the galley and for the next ten minutes make their lives a living hell. I'm killing them left and right, and thanks to their being stocked with a nearly full barrel of bananas, death just isn't in the tea leaves for me. As the inferno somewhat abates, I decide to give myself a short respite and take a nap on their aft sail.
While they recover and scurry like ants searching for their evasive assailant, another galley full of decked out legends pulls up and they start chatting with each other quite amiably. It starts off with the typical masturbatory banter about how "legendary" they all are, and comparing their grind speed d*cks. Ironically this leads to the first galley's crew saying that the only thing they really have left in the game is to hunt down and harrass the "PvE carebears
Whipped back into a fury, I shoot out two tnt the new ship has just sitting on deck, killing 5 of them in the process. I board the now sinking galley, hop to its crows nest where they have a stockpile of more tnt. I drop 2 more onto deck, carry a third under the of the bow first ship, re-board the first as the tnt goes off killing at least one more pirate, snipe the remaining two on the new galley, adding more holes and killing at least 2 more of the now respawned pirates, proceed to the first galley's bottom decks to clear out the desperately repairing sheeple, and in two minutes time, all nine of us are enjoying a brisk bath.
I do finally get killed there amidst the waves with no ammo box or banana bucket to keep me going. My heart is pumping so fast, it takes a minute for the red to recede around my vision. I contemplate quitting for the night, but remember seeing care packages in the depths before dying. I find myself a mere four islands over and make my way back in short order.
Sure enough, there are 6 witless pirates on the island doing a shanty around all the rescued loot, drunk and puking everywhere thanks to the thousand grogs in its midst. I fire three cannonballs and relieve as many pirates of their drunken stupor. Finishing the remaining 3 is a simple enough task.
As I am loading the last of the haul, one of the galleys is finally get close enough to be a threat. I point my boat toward clear seas, fire myself right into the ladder of the galley, anchor it, kill people for a couple minutes, then hightail it to my mermaid.
As I spawn on my ship again, I'm nearly barreling into the other galley. Two board my ship and manage to anchor me, but I dispatch them and raise anchor before the galley gets a chance to get an angle. Again, i point the boat towards a far-away outpost and consider my options. The first galley is still on the horizon and anchored so I wasn't too worried about their interfering any more, but now the close galley was on my tail and gaining fast with full sails.
And so I did what any self-respecting pirate would do in such a situation. I dropped 4 salvaged tnt in a short line in the water behind me. Every. Single. Tnt. Nailed 'em! Naturally they started drinking water so fast there wasn't much chance of recovery. I finally pull up to Ancient Spire, and turn in a haul worth almost 30k…. including (i assume) my depressing collection of foul skulls I had been so sad about earlier. I'd say the sun shone brighter, but it was past midnight… but you know what I mean.
And then I thought about these "legend" crews that were pulling up with cannons blazing in the desperate hope of recovering their lost goods, and I couldn't help but resent the game's celebration of their so-called "achievements". They were nothing more than pushovers in fancy clothes, cowering behind the presumed security of numbers, and choking on their own pride. #NotMyPirateLegend indeed.
I by no means consider myself to be legendary. Much of this tale of glory stands on the shoulders of pure happenstance. Nevertheless, I feel compelled to recognize all you scurvy dogs on the high seas who not only relish in your riches, but also bask in the glory of bathing in seas of blood, salt, and tears. A fine tankard of grog to ye all! ARRRRGH!
© Post "Depression turns to delight… and bitter resentment…" for game Sea of Thieves.
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