Captain Blackthorn

Arthur stood amidst the battlefield, facing the ruthless men prepared for bloodshed.

He clenched his jaw, sizing their forces up.

The captain of the pirate ships stepped forward. One look at him gave him a commanding an imposing presence.

He was a giant figure, towering above the rest, with a rugged build that reminded Arthur of a pro wrestler.

The captain's eye patch covered one eye while his brown beard was thick and unkempt, framing a weathered face hardened by life.

Most notably, his left hand had been replaced by a menacing hook.

Arthur wondered why every pirate he had read about in books and watched in movies always wears a hook.

With a gravelly voice that carried over the din, the captain called out to the Valiant Vanguard.

His voice was like metals clanging in a canyon valley. "Which one of you is Arthur?"

Arthur stepped forward, and met the captain's gaze.

"I am he," he declared. He was surprised how steady his voice was.

The captain stared at Arthur for a long momen
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