The Sanguine and Blackbeard's Cutlass
Epilogue: The Herald of Quetzalcoatl
The return to the village is met with a celebratory feast. You are granted a seat at the head table along with Quetzalli, her father, and the village elders. Procter refuses to eat any light meat as he is unable to find his feathered friend. The crew enjoys the celebration and drink alongside the native community. Upon Xolotl’s defeat, the island has returned to normal. The blackened tree has transformed back to a lush brown and green. The aggressive animals and dangers in the jungle have calmed, allowing for exploration without threat.
Late into the night, you grab a bottle of rum and leave the village deep in thought. Woodes Rogers is not going to be happy at the outcome. You arrive at a small clearing overlooking the beach. Two trees grow tall near the edge of the cliff, allowing you to use their trunk for back support as you dangle your feet from the edge. After a few swigs, you sense footsteps. You pull your flintlock and its click echoes in the silent night.
“Put that away, shipmaster, it’s me,” the voice of Quetzalli speaks through the blackness. “Spare a drink?”
You offer the bottle to her as she takes a seat next to you. “Be my guest.”
“I know the sacrifice you made to save my life. Your friend, Freddy, told me,” she says.
“I made enemies with one of the most powerful men in the Caribbean,” you say. “There’s no telling what he will do to make an example of me.”
She takes your hand. “You will always have a home here should you decide to stay.”
You squeeze her hand and softly kiss her forehead. “My home is the sea. The Sanguine has been anchored far too long. The crew will lose their edge if we remain any longer.”
She cups your hand with her own. “Will you return?”
With a grin you answer, “ You bet your onyx beads, we’ll return.”
The return to the village is met with a celebratory feast. You are granted a seat at the head table along with Quetzalli, her father, and the village elders. Procter refuses to eat any light meat as he is unable to find his feathered friend. The crew enjoys the celebration and drink alongside the native community. Upon Xolotl’s defeat, the island has returned to normal. The blackened tree has transformed back to a lush brown and green. The aggressive animals and dangers in the jungle have calmed, allowing for exploration without threat.
Late into the night, you grab a bottle of rum and leave the village deep in thought. Woodes Rogers is not going to be happy at the outcome. You arrive at a small clearing overlooking the beach. Two trees grow tall near the edge of the cliff, allowing you to use their trunk for back support as you dangle your feet from the edge. After a few swigs, you sense footsteps. You pull your flintlock and its click echoes in the silent night.
“Put that away, shipmaster, it’s me,” the voice of Quetzalli speaks through the blackness. “Spare a drink?”
You offer the bottle to her as she takes a seat next to you. “Be my guest.”
“I know the sacrifice you made to save my life. Your friend, Freddy, told me,” she says.
“I made enemies with one of the most powerful men in the Caribbean,” you say. “There’s no telling what he will do to make an example of me.”
She takes your hand. “You will always have a home here should you decide to stay.”
You squeeze her hand and softly kiss her forehead. “My home is the sea. The Sanguine has been anchored far too long. The crew will lose their edge if we remain any longer.”
She cups your hand with her own. “Will you return?”
With a grin you answer, “ You bet your onyx beads, we’ll return.”
