"Hast thou been to the Shrine of Spirituality?" The voice startled him, even in his drunken haze. He looked around the tavern in Buccaneer's Den, expecting there to be someone standing before him. There was no one but the rowdy crowd drinking and carrying on. Jack surveyed his surroundings but found no one there who was speaking to him. But that voice... "I've heard it before, somewhere..." he thought. Hunched over his bottle of liquor, he rested his eyes a bit, trying to remember that familiar voice. "Frye....the militia commander....." He pulled out a dagger and spun it on the table, around and around, trying to remember... The memory, at first bleary from the liquor... became a little clearer to him. Stumbling out of some tavern in West Britain. The idiot at the bank trying to gate some poor unsuspecting soul to some damnable speck of land in the middle of the sea with the promise of free feathers. The militia commander from Skara Brae who was standing by the message board, recruiting for his unit. "Art thou a pirate?" he inquired as Jack passed. "Aye...whats it to ye? " "I come to cleanse the land of evil." "Aye....well.....I see yer Militia is located near Skara... ye can start there with yer neighbors... they are a blight on the land..." The Commander scoffed. "But they seem like honest tax payers and law abiding citizens..." Jack's patience with the stranger grew thin. "I wanna kill the lot o' em!" he spat. "Feathers!? Go through the gate for free feathers!" the ruffian called out in the background. The Commander stiffened. "Ye have been charged with speaking evil. Come to the court of Lord British. Move!" He grabbed Jack's arm, who pulled it away. Jack lifted his cloak to reveal a cutlass. "I care not for Lord British's laws...the stuffy bastard sits on his throne all day, does nothin' at all..." "Thou'rt lucky I have no jurisdiction here..." the Commander replied. "The name's Frye. Commander of the Guardsmen Militia. What is your name, good sir?." "Jack..." "Syphilis Jack, aren't you?" "Don't call me by that unfortunate nickname given to me by dead men. Jack will suffice." "Well Jack, I am looking for honourable men to join the Militia". "I'm not an honourable man matey." Jack was getting impatient. The moon was giving off enough light that if a guard came over to him he might be found. That was a risk Jack didn't want to take. Nearby, the ruffian was announcing he had feathers, only if someone would follow him through the gate... "Lets visit the chamber of virtue," Frye said. Jack noticed the guards descending upon the ruffian with halberds, chopping him to pieces. It was probably time to leave and not be noticed. "Where is that?" Jack asked. "Follow me" Frye implored. Jack, ever the cautious one, let his hand hover around his cutlass, just in case it was an ambush. If he had any bad ideas, Jack surmised that he'd have enough time to gut the betrayer before the guards got him. Frye led him to the Temple of Virtues. "I haven't been here in ages..." For a moment, Jack marveled at the temple, then it went away. This was no place for a pirate. "Name the eight virtues!" Frye exclaimed as he first walked over to the rune with a shepherd's crook. "Humility..." Jack answered. Frye walked to the rune that had a drop of blood. "Sacrifice..." "Aye!" Frye moved to the rune that had a sword. "Valor..." Frye moved to the rune that had a hand. ".....Honesty......" Jack said with a hint of disdain. Next, Frye moved to the rune with an ankh symbol. "Spirituality..." He moved to the rune with a scale. "Justice..." Next was the rune with a goblet. "Honor...." "That's seven..." responded Frye. He moved to the remaining rune, one that had a heart. Jack moved to it and paused as he looked down at it. He frowned. "Compassion.....Pah!" he spat. Frye applauded him. "Ah! Very well... let me tell thee a story..." "Aye.." Frye told him of a day in his youth where he was sent to cut wood from a Yew tree. Something about seeing the sign of Spirituality in the skies and a voice booming to him that he would conquer evil under the sign. "That day I knew, I needed to make a pilgrimage to the Shrine of Spirituality. Hast thou been to the Shrine of Spirituality?" "A long time ago mate... in my younger days...." "Tis beautiful", replied Frye. "I signed up for the Militia. I was the youngest of my platoon. I still dream. I still hear that voice. What dost it mean? Does thou knoweth?" "I do not.... I follow me own ways. Looting, pillaging, blood, rum, and women.." Jack laughed. "I have seen blood, and I have looted evil. Alas, I don't have a woman." Frye admitted. Jack gazed upon the pedestal of Compassion. "I had one I cared for long ago. She's long gone now, I suppose." "What happened to her?" Frye inquired. "She was me former second in command. I trained her meself. She became a formidable warrior in her own right. Her loyalty to me was unmatched, and mine to her. We fought many battles alongside each other, slayed many monsters and villians together." "Honor.... Sacrifice...." Jack paused and thought a moment. "I suppose'n your right. But my war with the town of Wilmeth, the usurpers to mine homeland, burned hot within me. We could have settled down, to forget the blasted war. Alas, I didn't give it up... an' instead I grew more obsessed with my revenge." "Ye did not sacrifice..." Jack swallowed hard. "Nay, I did not... I won the war but lost everything. When I decided to hang up me sword, she was gone." "'Tis sad, friend pirate. What did ye do then?" "I left the realm. At first I went into hiding. I became a tavernkeeper, trying to escape my dark past of being an assassin. For a while, I felt some sense of peace. When me tavern fell, I joined a band of noble warriors called the Ta' kier. I thought perhaps using me skills as a warrior for good would erase my bloody past..." "Ahhh...." "....but as in most heroes.... their resolve grew weak. Their township was raided on a daily basis. Their leadership fled, leaving meself and a few others to defend the land. We did all we could, but the Ta' kier's hold on the land grew smaller and smaller until eventually it was overran. That's when I realized, there were no heroes there, only villains..." Frye smiled. "But ye have Honor...Valor.... ye Sacrifice yourself for the good of the group. But never on a personal level..." Jack, leaning up against the temple wall, looked away. "Perhaps...eventually." "Thou must find balance..." "I'm happy bein' a pirate. No attachment to anyone..." Frye got up from the bench and headed for the door. Jack followed him to the horses. "In two fortnights, come to our outpost in Skara Brae and talk to the abjucator. He is a very wise man." Frye said as he got upon his horse. Jack grinned slightly. "That be enemy territory mate. They'd like to have me head upon a platter for sure. They want me dead and I'm not about to let that happen..." "I see. Well I thank thee for sharing thy story. We shall meet again perhaps." "Perhaps we shall." Jack said. He got upon his horse and rode off towards the tavern next to the bank. He needed some rum, badly. He rode back to the tavern and dismounted his horse. The same ruffian from before was there, once again trying to strand anyone naive enough to fall for his trickery. "Feathers, Jack?" he asked. "Piss off, netter ye little bastard! Ye would maroon me on some godforsaken island ye would!" Jack yelled before he went back into the tavern to drown his sorrows......... "It's closin' time pirate. Wake up or I'll have ya tossed outta here on yer arse!" the unattractive barmaid of the Pirate's Plunder said as she poked him with a quarterstaff. The tavern was clearing out. Jack had fallen asleep, his dagger firmly stuck into the table before him. His head pounding, he pulled the dagger up and sheathed it until he noticed something on the table. Carved into it, was the symbol of Spirituality... the ankh. He stared down at it with wide eyes. "Go on now! I have to clean this mess up!" the barmaid nagged. Jack stumbled but regained his footing. He remembered dreaming about the events of the past, but why? "I never went to the abjucator... an' I ne'er saw Frye again. What could'e have said to me anyway?" he thought. The words echoed in his mind: "Hast thou been to the Shrine of Spirituality?" But he had! Jack stopped dead in his tracks. "That'be where me n' the Sealords beheaded that damnable Oracle of Paws...." he thought to himself as he walked towards the docks. He remembered staying away from the Shrine as they skulked around Paws. Not that there was anything that shrine could do for him. The monster he became long ago would always define who he was.... who he is...who he'll always be.
