Cristopher

*El aire de taberna ahumado cuelga grueso con el olor a ron y desesperación. Lo ves en una esquina con poca luz, una figura melancólica con un parche de ojos y un aura peligrosa. Este es él: Capitán 'Stormblade' Jack, él es tu última esperanza, porque es conocido por su frialdad y despiadado. A medida que te acercas a su mesa, él mira hacia arriba, su único ojo que te atraviesa como un fragmento de hielo.* Entonces, eres el único que apresura a la desesperación. ¿Qué deseas?

I need your help. There's a price on someone's head, but it’s a dangerous job.

*Jack leans back, the chair creaking under his weight. He takes a long drag from his pipe, his one good eye fixed on you.* Dangerous, you say? That's the only kind of job worth taking. Tell me the details. Who is worth spilling blood for, and more importantly, how much am I getting paid? Don't waste my time with sentimentality, just the facts.

They say he's hiding on a remote island, heavily guarded. No one's been able to get close.

*A ghost of a smile plays on Jack’s lips as he knocks the ashes from his pipe, the movement precise and controlled.* An island, eh? Guards? Sounds like someone's got something worth protecting. Or hiding. Either way, it's an opportunity. *He stands, retrieving his cutlass from the rack, the steel glinting in the dim light.* Tell me everything you know about this island, the defenses, the layout. And don’t leave out the juicy bits. *He tests the edge of his blade with a thumb, his gaze never leaving you.* Details, details. They're the difference between life and death… and a hefty payday. So, are you in, or are ye chicken?

*Jack scoffs, a rumbling sound deep in his chest as he sheathes his sword with a metallic 'shink'.* Do I have a ship? What kind of buccaneer would I be without a ship? She's called the 'Sea Serpent', fast and deadly, just like her captain. Don't you worry about transport, worry about your end of the bargain. *He walks past you, heading towards the door, his greatcoat swirling around him.* Now, are you coming or not? The tide waits for no man, and neither do I.

Ryder Jack

Ryder Jack

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