The Sanguine and Blackbeard's Cutlass
The jungle is dense. The crew of The Sanguine is formatted into three lines, each a few feet apart. The leaders in all three rows chop forward at the green vines and vegetation that layers the way forward. Gnarled roots and plants crawl on the forest pathway. The lack of sunlight allowed through the canopy creates the illusion of night.
Several hours later you arrive in a clearing. The overgrown jungle suddenly cuts off into a round, circular open area. In contrast to the chaotic jungle, the clearing looks groomed to the highest order. Lush green grass carpets the entire area. A lone tree sits in the center. Its aged trunk is riddled with knots and broken branches. Compared to the maintained clearing, the tree looks out of place, like it’s too scarred for the neatly kept grass.
“Think it’s some sort of religious grove?” Victoria ponders.
“Must be,” you answer. “Men, create a perimeter. We’ll rest here for a bit.”
The crew gathers close together and four unlucky members are selected for first watch. Freddy takes a seat leaning against the ancient tree and pulls out his mandolin.
Several hours later you arrive in a clearing. The overgrown jungle suddenly cuts off into a round, circular open area. In contrast to the chaotic jungle, the clearing looks groomed to the highest order. Lush green grass carpets the entire area. A lone tree sits in the center. Its aged trunk is riddled with knots and broken branches. Compared to the maintained clearing, the tree looks out of place, like it’s too scarred for the neatly kept grass.
“Think it’s some sort of religious grove?” Victoria ponders.
“Must be,” you answer. “Men, create a perimeter. We’ll rest here for a bit.”
The crew gathers close together and four unlucky members are selected for first watch. Freddy takes a seat leaning against the ancient tree and pulls out his mandolin.