Posts from Peter Duff (Goeden Dag) Auto-translated

“Well, this is it,” Peter thought, swinging his cutlass. “They’ll kill us all. What a way to end for an old pirate. Maybe I should slip away quietly? No, there aren’t enough of us on the ship to manage that. And I won’t last long on the island. I really don’t want to die a heroic death. Especially in the middle of nowhere. But it looks like that’s what’s going to happen… But first, let’s try one last thing.” He shouted: “Anyone with gunpowder, come here!”

There was no need to persuade them; they eagerly agreed to go to St. Petersburg.

"Quickly, set the gunpowder under the palisade and light it! Move it, or we're all done for!" Peter shouted in a hoarse voice, thinking, "If we don't break through to the village, we're all doomed. They'll probably eat us. I'd like to see the captain impaled on a spit. That would be an amusing sight. Although, that opportunity will probably present itself soon."
-Hey, where are you going?! Get out of here! Take that!

It was a powerful blast, even scorching a few sappers who didn't manage to run away. But the sacrifice was worth it: the main obstacle was destroyed, and the orcs were somewhat stunned, with some of them wounded by splinters of the palisade.

Barely hearing himself over the ringing in his ears, Peter yelled:
- Follow me!
And, almost breaking his leg due to the vortex that had formed, he rushed towards the village.

The Orcs were strong, and each strike from their green, armed hands depleted Peter's squad by one soldier. But the sailors accompanying Peter outnumbered them, and although their weaponry was primitive, it was extremely unfamiliar to the enemy. The Orcs faltered and retreated to the village, where they took cover behind the huts they lived in.

Following Peter's orders, the remaining oil was poured over the orc huts, and they were set ablaze. The old pirate watched the fire grow, whistling an old sea shanty. His mood improved with each passing minute.

The Orcs fled their village in disgrace. Those who survived, that is.

What remained of the village was carefully searched, the wounded orcs were finished off, and the people were bandaged before the squad set off back to the ship at dawn.

Antonio's people, led by Peter, gathered a lot of food, some kind of local alcoholic beverage stored in barrel-like containers, as well as Orcish household items and cult objects, mostly made of stone and bone.

Peter stood on the deck, thoughtfully turning a flask of wine in his hands. He uncorked it, took a good swig, and pondered. He took another swig. He poured the rest onto a shallow, but still bleeding, wound in his side and bandaged it with a relatively clean cloth. "If an infection starts, it will be bad," he thought. - Captain! The island is ours, but it doesn't seem to have anything particularly valuable. Should we search it, or move on?

– Let’s just say, Peter, I took a little initiative and, taking advantage of your expedition, organized my own, a solo one. And here’s what I found, – Antonio showed some small trinket.

Peter examined the object from all angles, even tasted it... - It's not gold, and not even silver. Sir, what is this junk, and where did you find it?

--Correct! It's amber. It's a little damaged on the outside, but it's amber. As you might have guessed, Duff, amber doesn't just appear here on its own; this isn't that kind of place. I found it underwater, on the shore. Don't ask how, it's a long story, but the result was worth it.

- Is that all you found? It seems a bit meager. Or is there more? And where is this place?