(The Adventures of Sterkvark the Pirate first appeared in serial form in the Guild forum of Chance, the best casual raiding guild on Baelgun, if not elsewhere in the multiverse).
Sterkvark the Pirate , his one eye glaring like the white sand of this desert shore, stood over his fallen foe. "Yer an ill favoured bumboat", he said, wiping his blade on his blood red trousers, "but yer on a lee shore now, and you may lay to that!" His parrot wisely said nothing. It would not do to cross the Captain when the rum was rationed.
"These dark iron dogs will never learn" he sneered, "We'll not be renaming the ship 'The Grim Guzzler!' Ragnaros isn't Cap'n here, by the powers; I am! As long as I'm Cap'n, she's 'The Blue Oyster', and any of you freshwater swabs think different will see what comes of that!"
As things turned out, this Blue Oyster cult of personality did not sit well with the other pirates. Ten days out of Tanaris they cast Sterkvark adrift without so much as a drop of Thunderbrew and soon their renamed vessel was hull down on the horizon, leaving their castaway Captain, swearing vengeance, all alone with his parrot on a wine dark sea.
Marooned in a Jolly Boat is no laughing matter. Sterkvark the Pirate suffered a terrible thirtst, for while there was water a plenty, the Rumsey Rum soon gave out For days, he and his parrot played all the parlor games they knew while drifting in the southern seas.
At long last, about the time the parrot was starting to look like roast chicken to Sterkvark and the pirate like a year's worth of crackers, a tropical island came into view. They put ashore in a secluded cove - just the place, thought Sterkvark, for that holiday fishing camp I've always wanted.
Luckily, there was no sign of human habitation, and the local wildlife looked like just some cats and a few harmless monkeys...
(To be continued...)