Emin had grown up on the back streets of Tuggranoskr, he was familiar with thievery, with lying and cheating, with bribery and extortion, with drugs and drunks, and with the picking of pockets, purses and locks. These things were all encountered regularly for Tuggranoskr is renowned for them. It is a city built atop a rock in the middle of the stormiest part of the ocean by the Nosk. The Nosk were dying out now and there were few people who could still pronounce the city’s name properly.

They had a rather unique building style, using the bones and tusks of great animals to build their fortress city and affixing them to their many many ships. As such Tuggranoskr loomed out of the ocean like a great jagged monster, its towering cliffs and towering architecture cutting a great hole in the sky. Within the windy streets and rocky cliffs there were lots of places for people like Emin to hide. And hide he did, though rarely from any guards or lawmen for there were few of those in the city, indeed Emin had never seen one. No, in Tuggranoskr the peace was kept by the Pirate Lords. And they did not keep the peace very well.

For Tuggranoskr was first and foremost a pirate fortress, a place that would welcome any ship for a small tax and offer them the formidable protection of its borders. So while Emin robbed and stole from those he could, there were plenty of hardened pirates he could not dare to steal from unless they were so drunk or drugged as to make it safe again. So he mostly stole from those who lived their whole lives in the city. Those like himself who had been abandoned on the godforsaken island in the middle of the stormiest sea the Nosk could find. Most of them didn’t live very long, if you weren’t smart or fast or strong or at best, all three, you’d be robbed by those who were and be left to die in the cold hard streets.

Emin was tall and strong for his age, but he wasn’t big like Boy Cassey who lived down by the Ragmere tavern and ate all the old bread and chicken the owner threw out. But Emin was lean and quick as well, and he had a dagger he kept sharp and knew how to use. He wasn’t smart though. Old Yarrow had been smart, he’d been an old washed up pirate with an eyepatch who’d gotten a whole lot of the boys together and with him in charge they’d eaten better than they’d ever done before. But then Boy Cassey had killed him and the whole thing had fallen apart. Emin didn’t much like Boy Cassey.

Old Yarrow had also had stories. The street boys of Tuggranoskr hadn’t put much stock in stories before, they didn’t put food on the table. But Yarrow had had a way of telling stories that had made them seem important after all. He’d told them all about his life as a pirate. Sailing through storms and huge battles. Robbing and raping and pillaging every ship they could find. Held back by nothing but the limit of their own desires. The whole sea to explore. Yarrow had served on many different pirate ships and had many different stories to tell. And Emin had always had time to listen.

But there were no stories anymore so Emin would climb up to the top cliffs of the island and look out over the black sea as the sun set. He would imagine himself out there, sailing on some pirate ship. Exploring the world. Escaping his godforsaken island.

So every day since Yarrow had died he’d gone down to the port and explored, meeting sailors and pirates from far off lands, trying to hear their stories and join their crews. But none of them ever had time for him. They’d toss him bags to carry and laugh at him if they looked at him at all. Then they’d march to the nearest tavern of which there were many and tell each other their stories, never looking at him unless he tried to run off with their bags. Trying to talk to the captains was even harder, they always had other people to talk to, dockmasters, tax collectors, merchants, guides, their crew, other captains, and even other crews. By the time they were done with all that they had no time for Emin, even if they’d noticed him. So every day he would return to his little cave, there were a lot of caves on the island, having failed to find a ship. But that would not be the case forever.

One day while he was down at the docks a tall pirate with a long dirty grey beard paid him more attention than he’d ever received before. But it was not the attention he wanted.

“You lost boy?” the pirate asked walking up to him far faster and far closer than he really needed to.

Emin stepped back. “No, no I-”

“Then why you standin’ around gapin’ like that?”

“Well I...” behind the bearded pirate his friends were sniggering and watching intently.

“It’s been a long journey and we just got here, we ain’t got time to deal wi’ boys like you.”

“Well...”

“But I’ma deal wi’ ya anyway,” the pirate drew his sabre and Emin froze in terror. He was tall but the bearded pirate was taller. He had a dagger but the sabre was much much bigger. He was at the port, right next to the water, there was nowhere to run.

The bearded pirate swung and Emin dodged out of the way, almost falling into the black water below. Living on the streets he’d never bothered to learn how to swim.

The pirate swung again but now Emin’s dagger was in his hand. He blocked and felt the shock run up his arm, almost causing him to drop his dagger. Then the sword bit down again and he decided to take his chances in the water. He jumped back and half heartedly flung his dagger at the bearded pirate’s face. Then water enclosed all around him. Filling his eyes, his face, his mouth. He flailed wildly and one of his hands slammed into something hard. He flailed in that direction and managed to wrap his arms around a post supporting the wharf. He pulled his head out of the water and gasped for air. He heard shouting, a lot of shouting and running on the wharf above him. Then a face peered down, one of the bearded pirate’s friends. It saw him and shouted, pointing. He pushed through the water to another post as splashes sounded behind him. He tried to move quickly but he couldn’t bring himself to let go, to plunge back into that cold choking water. Then the splashes caught up to him and a hand grabbed his shirt. He spun around only to see a dockmaster looking at him with a calm but serious face.

“Come with me boy,” he said. “You will not be harmed.”

When Emin managed to climb back onto the wharf he saw that his dagger had embedded itself in the face of the bearded pirate who was now lying dead on the wharf. His friends were arguing with other dockmasters. It seemed security was much more rigidly enforced down here on the docks than it was up in the streets where Emin lived.

He was quickly dragged away from the docks and tossed into Grusk, the old rotted prison with holes too small to escape from but big enough to let rain in. Some of those in the streets intentionally got sent to prison to get a guaranteed meal. Only it wasn’t guaranteed. There were plenty of hardened pirates in Grusk and not enough food to go around.

Emin stopped trying after the first few days. A week passed with no food and only rainwater to drink when a dockmaster entered the holding cell. Usually they only came to drop off new prisoners, they didn’t run the prison. But this one had no new prisoners. Instead he looked closely at the faces of all the prisoners until he found Emin. Then he picked him up and dragged him off, ignoring the other prisoner’s protests. His fate firmly out of his hands Emin followed along as they went to some office which was nicer but still had the rotted holes to let rain in.

In the office was a Nosk man with a short black beard and a long leather coat. He had a sword as well, but it wasn’t the cheap sabres most pirates had to make do with. It was an ornate sword, the type that would likely be found in a royal treasury, not in Tuggranoskr. Emin sat at the desk and looked up at the man. The dockmaster left.

“I hear you’re the boy that killed Black Shamrock, that’s no easy task.”

Emin shifted in his chair. “Yes.”

“I have no love for Shamrock, he stole a woman from me years ago and had her killed, and many others have suffered far worse at his hand. But he sails under Brego so we can’t lay a hand on him. Not so with you, however.”

“I was thrown in Grusk.”

“Yes and had anyone been able to recognise you you’d have likely been assassinated. There are some advantages to not having a name.”

“I have a name,” Emin protested.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Oh yes, what is it?”

Emin paused. In truth he didn’t much like his name, it came from when the older boys had called him Vermin and he’d shortened it so he wouldn’t have to get used to something entirely new. Now was a chance to make up a new name, a pirate name, a name from one of Old Yarrow’s stories. His mind drew a blank. “Emin,” he said.

“Emin,” the man nodded. “I suppose it’ll do, but no one knows that name, no one of import like as not. So no one can have you killed. Very useful indeed.”

Emin sat in silence, he was still unsure what was going on.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re here Emin,” the man said.

Emin shrugged, in truth he’d stopped wondering that a while ago and was now wondering if the man was entirely sane.

“Well it just so happens that there’s a vacancy on my crew and having an unnamed boy like you onboard, especially one who’s just killed Black Shamrock might be just the person we’re looking for.”

Emin’s eyes grew wide. “You want to take me onto your crew?”

“Well yes, I don’t want someone old like most of the pirates here, and finding someone young with any fighting ability is difficult with no major wars on, so you’re it, best as I can do.”

Emin tried to stop himself from shaking with excitement. He failed. “I’d love to join your crew. I’ve wanted to sail the seas my entire life. To be a pirate just like all the stories.”

The man shrugged. “It’s not all like the stories, but that’s perfect. We leave at dawn, be at the port, number 183.”

The man turned to stroll out. “Sorry what’s your name?” Emin asked. “Captain?” he added hastily.

The man smiled, “Mangon Tull, or you might know me better as the Storm Wolf.” Then he walked out.

Emin stared after him for a while. He’d never actually heard of either Mangon Tull or the Storm Wolf. But that didn’t matter, he was going to become a pirate, he was going to finally sail away from this place.

The next day at dawn Emin walked down to the port and found the ship. It was a huge Nosk ship and in typical Nosk fashion was decked out completely in tusks and bones of huge animals. Spikes jutting off from the side of it like some horrid monster. Emin thought it looked spectacular.

Mangon arrived shortly after Emin did and ushered him aboard. The boat was slowly filling up with other pirates as dawn approached.

“This is the main deck,” the pirate said. “Mast, sails, ship’s wheel, you get the idea.” He pointed at a fat man asleep under an enormous feathered hat. “That’s Drengen, he’ll show you how it all works when we’re underway.”

Next they went below decks and Mangon showed him his sleeping quarters. Cramped in there with the other pirates it was arguably worse than his cave back home but he didn’t care. The rest of the tour seemed to be over far too quickly. Emin was hungry for any information he could get while Mangon didn’t seem to care.

“That there is the brig,” Mangon said pointing at a trapdoor in the floor. “There are a few secrets down there and I have the only key so don’t go investigating. And one more thing, this is a ship, we will regularly be miles and miles from safe harbour in the middle of the ocean. This is dangerous and for this reason you are to obey any order I give you, absolutely anything, understand?”

Emin nodded.

“Good, now go up on deck, and listen to Drengen, we’re leaving soon. Emin raced back on deck where all the other pirates had gathered. They were all talking amongst themselves and when he arrived some of them started talking about him. A few introduced themselves with names he didn’t recognise. Fey Rammon, Beardy Clam, Hark Japur, and Tommos Lisk. Emin introduced himself as well and tried to remember all their names.

Then Mangon was there and barking orders at people. The first order he barked was aimed at Drengen who jerked awake from his sleep and started yelling as well. Emin did what he was told and soon sails were raised and they were underway. Into the great wide ocean.

They didn’t go far into the great wide ocean before Emin was violently sick.

There were a lot of unglamorous things about being a pirate, and Emin had to admit the stories had rather glossed over those parts. There was life aboard ship, stuck in a tiny cabin with ten other men all shouting and arguing. There was having to obey every order barked by either Mangon or Drengen even when it seemed nothing needed doing. There was the backbreaking task of pulling on ropes and raising sails, rowing when the winds died down, and all on the meagre supplies they’d managed to pack into the storage room. There was cleaning, which seemed to be solely his job as the newest recruit and with all the winds and rains out at sea the ship seemed to need constant cleaning. There was the sea sickness as well, he’d felt terrible for the first few days and had trouble sleeping with the rocking of the ship leaving him feeling worse in the morning.

But the sea sickness had subsided and every day he’d climb up to the crow’s nest and be able to see miles and miles of nothing but the beautiful ocean. He’d heard some sailors and pirates back home claim it was boring, seeing the same empty view day after day. But he could never get bored of it. He could watch the ocean for hours. It was mesmerising.

Then there were the pirates, the other people aboard the ship which was called the Raggarusk which meant something in Nosk apparently. Some of them hated him and seemed to do things just out of spite, but most of them were nice, and they all partied hard on calm nights, dipping deep into their stores of ale and rum. Emin had hated rum at first but he was getting used to it and he loved the pirate parties. Not since Old Yarrow’s band had he really had friends around him like that.

And there was Mangon who sparred with him every day. He wasn’t using a dagger now but a proper sabre and under Mangon’s harsh teaching he could feel himself growing better and better. He longed for the day when he’d get to put his new skills to the test. To revel in riches gotten at sea rather than plucked from a drunk’s pocket in the rain. And eventually that day came.

Up in the crow’s nest Emin spotted a ship far off on the horizon and shouted as loudly as he could to the crew down below. They raised their flags and set off, their sails tugging them across the sea toward their quarry. As they got closer they recognised the ship as a trading vessel for Nagathrum, poorly armed compared to them, and much much slower. The ship fled but it didn’t flee for long.

They were almost at the other ship now and Emin could see the other crew’s faces as they rushed about the deck. They were building a fire and lighting it inside a brazier. Emin frowned, what were they doing that for? Then he saw it, another ship, far in the distance, bearing toward them. It was a signal, a call for help.

He turned back to look at Mangon who was talking with Drengen, the other pirates looked too.

“That looks like a proper navy ship,” Drengen said. “Should we cut our losses?”

Mangon shook his head. “No, full speed ahead.”

The pirates cheered but Drengen looked worried. Then Mangon was shouting at them.

“Alright men, we’ve no time to lose. Let’s get aboard, make sure there’s no resistance and loot everything they’ve got. We’ve got plenty of time as long as none of you fuck around. We clear?”

The pirates nodded their assent. Then they caught them. Fey Rammon and Hark Japur flung two huge grappling hooks onto the deck of the other ship and pulled. The other crew tried to remove them but they were struck down by arrows slung by other pirates before they even got close. The ships drew together and pirates began to leap across the gap. Emin was slightly concerned about the long drop into cold water below but soon there was barely a gap at all and he leapt across as well. Landing lightly on the other ship, sabre in one hand. It was chaos at first as the guards of the ship fought back but they were soon subdued and surrendered. They knew they couldn’t win. By the time Emin got there there wasn’t much to do. But then he heard Mangon shouting orders. While the older, scarier pirates kept the hostages in line he was sent down to the storage room to grab whatever he could find.

The storage room was packed. They weren’t far from Nagathrum and the ship had just started on its journey, packed to the brim with foodstuffs and money. Emin grabbed a chest and dashed back up the stairs, his legs well used to the rolling sea by now. He tossed it across to Drengen who was waiting back on the Raggarusk and then dashed down for more. With all of them the storage room was soon empty and Mangon had apparently intimidated the captain into giving them everything he had.

Then they were back on their ship and sailing away. By then the navy ship was close, not close enough to see the people on its deck but close enough to see how big it was. A ship that size would need double the crew they had, maybe more. And it had huge sails that had picked up a lot of speed. Emin very much doubted they could outrun it.

“We can’t outrun that,” Drengen said to Mangon who was back at the ship’s wheel.

Mangon smiled and once again Emin was gripped by the feeling that he wasn’t entirely sane. “Oh we’re not going to,” he said and laughed. Emin didn’t find that especially comforting but Drengen seemed to only be mildly annoyed. He walked down from the ship’s wheel and onto the deck where Emin was sitting, waiting to be told to pull a rope.

“What did he mean we aren’t going to outrun it?” he asked Drengen as he walked by.

Drengen scowled. “He means we’re going to go somewhere it can’t follow.”

“Where?”

“The Stormruns. Weather like this it’ll be hell.”

“Is their ship too big to weather the storm?”

“No,” Drengen chuckled. “Their captain’s too sane,” then he walked off.

Emin’s confidence sank even lower.

As they sailed and the navy ship bore down on them they packed away all of the money and foodstuffs they’d looted from the other ship. The navy ship stopped to investigate the looted ship which gave them more time but they were still a bit faster.

Then he saw the Stormruns in the distance. A huge black cloud stretched across the horizon. He’d seen storms like that before in Tuggranoskr. It was well known that any ship caught out in one would be dashed against the rocks of the city if it made it that far. He hoped there were no rocks in the Stormruns.

They got closer and it appeared there were a lot of rocks in the Stormruns. The place was littered with them. Towering cliffs jutting out of the heaving sea just like home, except he was on a ship now rather than safe in a cave. The water was getting choppy now and it was difficult to stagger up to the ship’s wheel where Mangon was steering them right into the storm.

“Captain is this safe?” he shouted above the roar of the storm.

Mangon laughed. “This is why I’m called the Storm Wolf,” he said. “I sail through storms and always come out alive.” Then he laughed some more.

Emin staggered back down to the main deck where Drengen was watching the skies and barking orders. Seeing he was busy he went to Fey instead.

“Does he know what he’s doing?” Emin asked, pointing at Mangon.

Fey rolled his eyes. “What he says is true,” he grumbled. “We’ve never been shipwrecked though by hell we’ve tried.”

“But how? Is he just a good sailor?”

“He’s okay, I’ve seen better. Naw it’s something to do with whatever he keeps in the brig we think. Something he ain’t willing to share with us. But he keeps us alive, he keeps us rich. Figure we may as well keep doing it.”

The storm hit hard. They were tossed across the ship’s deck as it bucked and rolled in the waves. The huge cliffs leered up at them out of the sea. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed even over the howl of the storm. Drengen’s booming voice roared above the storm, telling them to fix that rope there, to pull that one somewhere else. With trembling fingers Emin obeyed, struggling to pull on the heavy wet ropes.

A cliff passed by them, then another, then another. A wave took them high and Emin looked out to see rocks buried everywhere under the waves. Then the wave swung back down and they were all gone, how could anyone possibly know where they were? They seemed to be in the rocks for hours and Emin’s seasickness returned. Luckily with all the water splashing over them nobody noticed an extra bit of bile.

By the end he was shivering and wet and sick and could barely stand. But there was an end. Despite it seeming like there was no safe path to take they sailed through it and out the other side. Emin joined in the half hearted cheer but mostly the crew were exhausted. Mangon seemed fine, standing up at the wheel, drenched in sea water and rainwater and beaming. He let the crew have a rest once they were far enough from the storm and went back into his cabin with a bottle of rum.

Emin sat there on the deck, and trembled.

He knocked on the captain’s door and waited to be let in.

“Come in,” Mangon said from inside, a slight drunken slur blurring his words. Emin pushed the door open and found the captain lounged in his chair, the empty rum bottle sitting on the table.

“Emin!” he said loudly, smiling his manic smile. “How did you like your first real day as a pirate. You saw everything, a raid, a storm, a bounty. A great day.”

Emin shuffled nervously. “What’s in the brig captain?” he asked. He’d never seen Mangon properly angry before. He hoped this wasn’t a way to set him off.

Mangon’s smile turned mischievous, he didn’t seem to be getting angry. “That’s my lucky charm. A little secret I keep to keep me safe from storms,” he chuckled and poured himself more rum. “Any more questions?” he smiled.

Emin thought it best to quit while he was ahead. The captain didn’t seem at all angry but he wasn’t sure what would happen if he pressed him on his secret. Probably nothing good. He shook his head and walked out. He stood on the deck and looked out at the black ocean. He was familiar with thievery, with lying and cheating, with bribery and extortion, with drugs and drunks, and with the picking of pockets, purses and locks. He’d already been in the brig while everyone else was recovering. He hadn’t found a lucky charm, he hadn’t found anything lucky at all. He’d found, reeking of drugs and looking up at him with mournful brown eyes, a man.