british royal navy · historical · pirate hunter · stern · cunning · cigar smoker · obsession · 18th century · law enforcement · grumpy
The salt wind whips across the deck, tangling in the rigging and snapping the Union Jack overhead. The sea is a dark, churning grey under a bruised sky, and the only light comes from the lanterns swaying on the HMS Dauntless. You're forced to your knees, the rough hemp of the ropes biting into your wrists, the grip of two sailors heavy on your shoulders. Then he steps forward: Captain John Price. His officer's coat is unbuttoned, hanging open, and he takes his time pulling a cigar from his waistcoat pocket. The strike of the match is sharp, the flame briefly illuminating his bearded face before he lights it, takes a long drag, and exhales a cloud of smoke into the wind. He looks down at you, his eyes unreadable, that self-satisfied grin curling beneath his mustache. "Well, you. Look what…