“The reason I’ve called you all here,” said the Grinning Ghoul, his low, evil voice resonating across the Infamy Central meeting chamber, “is because tensions have been a little high among us lately.” He chuckled. The assembled supervillains of Infamy Unlimited – some seated at the central table, most standing — shifted irritably. Their boss wasn’t wrong. Tougher Longbow crackdowns, more pressure from Arachnos, and a few unsuccessful bank jobs had made for shorter tempers lately. Morale was low, suspicions high, squabbling constant. Summer wasn’t a comfortable season in the Rogue Isles.
“So,” the Ghoul continued, stepping down from the podium, “I feel it’s time for a little morale boost.” Making his way to the center of the room, he produced a small stoppered wooden jar from one of his belt pouches, setting it gently on the center of the table. The other supervillains looked at the item doubtfully.
“Recognize this?” asked the Ghoul. “Me neither. But the Circle of Thorns seems to think that this little jar here contains the most valuable of treasures. Which, of course, is why I had to steal it from them.” He chuckled again. “You wouldn’t believe how much the Circle mystics fought to protect this thing … not that it did them any good.
“The point is, now this jar is the property of Infamy Unlimited. And in the interests of keeping peace at home, I’ve decided that each one of us gets a share of whatever’s inside. Call it a bonus. And, so that nobody gets cheated, I’ve asked you all to be present when we open it.”
“Sounds real great, boss,” muttered Cast Iron Carl, “but what is inside?”
“Let’s find out now,” answered the Ghoul, removing the stopper.
Instantly, the jar began to tremble and hum, as though it was full of angry hornets. But what gushed forth was a roiling black fog, spouting out of the small container like a geyser, filling the room. Panic broke out among the assembled villains, but too late: already the black vapor was surrounding all, choking them, paralyzing their minds. One by one the members of Infamy Unlimited crashed senseless to the floor; and from the thick black air above them came wicked laughter and, oddly, the unmistakable tune of a sea shanty.
——————
In the early years of the 18th century, when the coasts and islands of the Caribbean knew no peace from piracy, the most feared men on the open sea were Jonathan “Laughing Jack” Blackmore and the crew of the frigate Queen’s Ransom. A former officer on an English merchant ship, Captain Blackmore embarked on his piratical career in the waters off Madagascar, preying on shipping vessels from the Indian Ocean to the Cape of Good Hope. After a few years, Laughing Jack set his sights on larger prizes, relocating to the New World to terrorize a fresh continent of victims. Over the years he assembled a formidable crew of vicious cutthroats, many of whom became feared nearly as much as the captain himself. Together, the pirates of the Queen’s Ransom cut a bloody wake across the Caribbean, striking dread into the hearts of all who traveled the seas. During boarding raids, Laughing Jack would wear a grotesque death’s-mask into battle to demoralize his enemies; the mask was also a sign to his crewmen that no quarter was to be paid.
The Queen’s Ransom and all its hands mysteriously vanished in 1709, forever sealing the legend of the feared pirate crew. Some suppose that Captain Blackmore and his men retired and went their own ways; others guess that the ship fell prey to a hurricane. The popular tale at the time was that the Devil himself, annoyed at the prospect of any man becoming more feared than he, finally came in person to collect Jack and his villainous band. But none of these stories come near the truth.
The true story of the Queen’s Ransom is that in 1709, the crew came ashore on an isolated corner of Hispaniola (later Haiti) to divide their loot, raiding a nearby sugar plantation to use as a base. Slaughtering the French owners, Laughing Jack and his crew did as they pleased during their two-week stay, treating the plantation slaves cruelly for sport.
At last, the Haitian slaves rose up against their tormentors. In the dead of night they burned the Queen’s Ransom in harbor, then torched the main villa, containing the drunken and sleeping Captain Blackmore and his men. Then their leader, a vodou priest of great power, scooped the pirates’ ashes into a wooden jar, ritually sealing their souls within for all time. Only when the slaves had thrown this jar into the sea did they count themselves avenged.
But nothing stays lost forever in the high seas. After three centuries, the wooden jar finally reappeared, bobbing to the surface near the Nerva Archipelago. There it was recovered by the Circle of Thorns. Magically divining the jar’s contents, the Circle mages declared it full of “the most valuable of treasures” — the only treasure the Circle of Thorns cares about — human souls.
——————
The Grinning Ghoul lifted himself from the floor, rising unsteadily to his feet. His head turned in wonderment, and at last he slowly held up his own armored hands to look at them, as if they were things wholly new to him. From behind the grinning mask, a long evil chuckle oozed out.
He turned to watch the other supervillains as they too groggily rose from the floor. When he spoke to address them — although the voice was formed by the Grinning Ghoul’s larynx, and from air in the Grinning Ghoul’s lungs — it was not the Ghoul’s voice.
“Yarr! Get up, ye lazy dogs! Your Captain’s ordering it! Come on, now — eyes up front, men! Don’t be lookin’ so damned puzzled. Haven’t ye figured it out yet? We’re free!“
And Jack Blackmore threw back his borrowed, hooded head and laughed long and madly.
“Free!”
——————
For the next week — until, say, midnight on Saturday, August 5th — many members of Infamy Unlimited will be possessed by the ghosts of long-dead pirates. What does this mean? It means that if you want to, (and this is an optional event), you get to play your favorite Infamy Unlimited villains as pirates! Too sweet!
Have as much fun with this as you want, guys. Take an alternate costume slot, pirate it up a bit, and “arr” and “avast” your way through this whole week. Or, if you don’t want to do this, then don’t — your characters just weren’t in the meeting room when this happened, or whatever reason you feel like giving. My next post will showcase my IU characters (the Ghoul, Carl, and Mind-Grinder) as the possessed, piratical versions of themselves you’ll know and love for the next week.
