Locura Island was well named. It was like something out of the kinds of pirate stories you hear from well off folk who had never once encountered a real pirate in their whole lives, and likely never would. It had started as a large colony of vineyards and breweries, but when the rich bounty of each harvest began to attract the thirstier crowds, it slowly became a den of drunkards. The perfect place to go and have a celebration, especially after a successful raid.
Garin had been there but once. Didn’t like it all that much, considering it was the same island he and Jacques had been taken to when they were captured during the Battle of New Maraqua. Still, he only saw a small fragment of the town over his shoulder as he and the crew escaped and reclaimed the Black Pawkeet, the rest he’d only heard about. And he’d kept in mind to mark the island on his charts as part of a list of places he “would prefer to avoid but would like to explore at some point”, and gi