Bilgewater: the glowing tide

The Bilgewater event appeared on the customer.In the process, a big file was released by Riot on the League of Legends website.The overhaul of our gangplank is only the visible part of the iceberg.Our jack sparrow adding to oranges and rum is only a piece of the treasure that is bilgewater.Discover here the Pirate City under its true face.

The event is coming to an end.For this, Gangplank returns to life, and will be available soon, before the end of the event.But that's not all, you can also have the opportunity to unlock the Skin Captain Gangplank.The details on this skin are available in the update on the article of the pirate overhaul, here.

Bilgewater: the glowing tide will go back to the sea in a little over a week, with all its packs, its derivative products, its reward icons and its play modes in its hold, in its hold all its packs, its reward icons.Whether you want to take part in the Micmac of the black market, add the free Skin Captain Gangplank to your wardrobe or put the bilgewater from the treasures of Bilgewater, you have until August 10 at 11:00 am (CEST).

This is the first time that we have made such a strong choice in the history of the game, so we are going to commemorate this event with the Skin Captain Gangplank, which represents the pirate as it was before the events of Bilgewater: the tide rolling.All players with Gangplank and playing a game in whole matchmaking with him (or having already done) during the event will receive this Skin Captain Gangplank for free.

Rest assured, Gangplank will be available again before the end of the event, if you had not had time to play it before he died.

Epilogue - Click here -

Epiloguechaos, forfeiture, goal

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The city of Bilgewater devoured itself.The streets were filled with the howls of desperate and dying.Braziers burned in the lower districts and the ashes fell throughout the city.All control was lost, and all the gangs now sought to fill the void left by the fall of a single man.A war was born from these simple words: Gangplank died.

Full ambitions and petty vendettas are suddenly unleashed.

On the quays, whalers ventured a harpoon fisherman and left his body hanging at the end of a cord.

At the highest peak of the island, the majestic doors that stood since the Bilgewater foundation were shot dead.A gang leader who was hiding was torn from his bed by a rival.His howls only stopped when his skull was crushed against the marble of his own staircase.

Along the platforms, a red stretch hinge tried to compress a bloody head injury.He looked over his shoulder but saw no sign of his pursuers.The notched hooks had turned against the Galures.He had to go to the lair to warn his comrades.

He turned to the corner, yelled to call his brothers to take up arms and join him.But his cries strangled in his throat.The hooks stood in front of the lair of the galleys.Guts wrap around their blades.A cruel smile disfigured the barely human face of their leader.

The Red Galu had time to growl a final juron.

On the other side of the bay, in a peaceful alley, a doctor deployed all his art.The gold that had been given to him was sufficient to buy his services...and his silence.

It had taken him half an hour to remove the coats of coat on the flesh in charpi of his patient.The doctor had seen vile injuries in the past, but never such a stump.He made a short break, terrified by the reaction that his next words were going to trigger.

" I am sorry...I can't save your arm.»»

In the shadows of the candle lit piece, the silhouette of a shredded man painfully stood on his feet.His valid arm gushes like a whisk to take the doctor in his throat.He slowly lifted the surgeon, took off from the ground and pressed him against the wall.

For a horrible moment, the brute remained impassive, observing the man he held.Then he let go.

Panicked, the doctor was choking in a coughing fifth while the silhouette walked to the back of the room.Passing under the surgeon's lantern, the patient stopped in front of an age worn for age.Methodically, he opened the drawers one after the other, as in search of something.He finally found what he was looking for.

« Chaque chose doit avoir un but»», dit-il en regardant son bras mutilé.

He left something from the drawer and threw him at the doctor's feet.The lantern made the steel shine shine with a bone saw.

"Cut, Toubib.I have work.»»

Act III - Click here -

Act III: first part

Le sang, La vérité, La Jeune Camarde

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Again, the fists hit me.I fall and hit the floor of the gangplank ship.The cast iron bracelets come into the shoes of the wrists.

I am back on his feet and I am forcibly kneeling next to TF.Anyway, I can hardly see how my legs could wear me even if I wanted.

The colossal jack of the mission of hitting me is more or less blurred before my eyes.

« Eh, fiston»», lui dis-je, « tu t'y prends comme un manche.»»

I don't see the next blow coming.I just feel an explosion of pain and fall on the deck.Once again, I am raised before kneeling me.I spit blood and teeth.Then I smile.

"My grandmother is hitting stronger than that, Moussaillon.And she has died and buried for five years.»»

He advances to strike me again, but an order of gangplank stops him net.

" That's enough.»»

I find it hard to stay straight, I try to focus on the vague gangplank contours.My vision stabilizes.At its size, I see that it wears the damn tf knife.

« C'est toi, Twisted Fate ? Il paraît que tu n'es pas mauvais, et je ne suis pas du genre à mépriser un bon voleur»», dit Gangplank.It approaches and fixes TF."But a good thief is not stupid enough to rob me.»» Il s'accroupit et me regarde dans le blanc des yeux.

"As for you...If you had two maids, you would have put your rifle at my service.But it's too late.»»

Gangplank gets up and turns our backs.

« Je ne suis pas un homme déraisonnable»», continue-t-il."I don't demand that we kneel before me.I only want a little respect, but you don't seem to know the meaning of this word.I cannot leave this crime unpunished.»»

His crew advances like a pack of dogs for the priest.But I will not give them the satisfaction of seeing me tremble.

« Faites-moi plaisir»», dis-je en désignant TF du menton, « tuez-le d'abord.»»

Gangplank sneer.

He beckons to a sailor that rings the ship's bell.Dozens of other bells respond to him in the city.Drunkards, sailors, shopkeepers pour into the streets.This junk wants spectators.

« Bilgewater nous regarde»», dit Gangplank. « Offrons-lui un spectacle ! Sortez la Jeune Camarde !»»

We hear howls of joy and the bridge resonates from the sailor cavalcade.They take out an old cannon.He is rusty and eaten away by age, but it remains beautiful.

I take a look at TF.He has his head down and he says nothing.They took her cards...After looking for them for a long time.They didn't even let her his stupid Dandy hat, he is now a consanguineous bastard in the crowd that wears her.

Since I know TF, he has always had a rescue plan on hand.Today he does not have one and he seems completely shot.

Perfect.

« Tu n'as que ce que tu mérites, traître !»», lui dis-je avec mépris.

He looks at me.There is still fire somewhere at the bottom of him.

"I am not proud of what...»»

« Tu m'as laissé pourrir !»»

"We tried everything to get you out. Ça a coûté la vie à toute la bande ! On a perdu Kolt, Wallach, Brique, tout le monde, rien que pour essayer de sauver tes miches d'obstiné !»»

"But you got out of it.And you know why ?Because you are a coward.And nothing you can say will never change anything.»»

My reply hurts him.He doesn't answer anything.Its last hint of resistance disappears.He's no longer.

I think even TF is not so good actor.My anger faints.

I feel tired, suddenly.Tired and elderly.

« Tout a tourné de travers»», dit-il."We may both blame, but I was not lying.We tried to get you out of there.No matter.Believe what you want.»»

It takes a while for this sentence to touch me.And even more time so that I realize that I believe it.

He's right, that's the truth.

I do things my way.From the beginning.Whenever I went too far, he covered my back.It is always he who took us out of the knead.

But that day, I didn't listen to it.I haven't listened to it since.

And today I killed us.

Suddenly, tf and I are hoisted on our feet and trained towards the cannon.Gangplank caress, as if it was a pure race hunting dog.

"The young Camarde has always been faithful to me, so let's welcome her retirement as it should be.»»

The sailors surround the cannon with a heavy chain.I start to understand what will happen.

Tf and I are glued back to back, and the chain has passed to us at ankles and wrists.A padlock closes in a click.We are tied up and attached to the cannon.

A boarding door opens onto the side of the shell and the barrel is driven until in front of the opening.Bilgewater quays are crowded with spectators.

Gangplank place the heel of his boot on the cannon.

« Cette fois, je ne peux rien faire pour nous sortir de là»», dit TF par-dessus son épaule."I always knew that I would die by your fault.»»

A laugh escapes me.I hadn't launched for a long time.

We are drawn to the edge of the ship, such as livestock to the slaughterhouse.

I guess this is where my story ends.I took advantage of the opportunities I had.But luck always ends up turning.

It is only at this time that I understand what I have to do.

Gently, despite my handcuffs, I'm trying to reach my rear pocket.She is always there.The card that TF left behind in the warehouse.I wanted to drive it into the throat of his corpse.

They searched TF to find his cards.But not me.

We are chained back to back.I have no trouble giving him the card without anyone noticing it.I feel him hesitate.

« Vous faites une piètre offrande, mais c'est mieux que rien»», dit Gangplank."Get the Grande Barbue on my part.»»

With a gesture in the crowd, Gangplank turns the barrel towards the water.He bursts the dark surface into a wreath of splashes and flows quickly.On the bridge, the chain hung there begins to take place.

In the end, I finally believe TF.I know he tried everything to get me back, as every time since we are side by side.For once, it is I who can offer him a way out.I owe him that.

" Go away.»»

He starts his gestures, turns the card in his fingers.The power flows and I feel a painful pressure on the back of my skull.I have always hated being within reach when he does his tricks.

And then he disappears.

The chains that held TF fall on the deck with a click and the crowd pushes howls.Mine, of chains, are always solidly in place.I'm not going to get out of it, but just to see the head of the gangplank, it's worth it.

The cannon chain snatches me on the ground.I hit the bridge hard and growl in pain.In an instant, I am rushed over edge.

Cold water cuts me breathing.

I am swallowed up.I get down quickly, trained towards the depths.

Act III: second part

Les profondeurs, Combat dans les ténèbres, Paix

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The card that Malcolm places in my hand can easily transport me to the quay.I am so close to the shore and, from there, the crowd is perfect to let me disappear.I may have left this island abject in an hour.And this time, nobody would find me.

And then I no longer see in my mind that the enraged face of gravels engulfed by the waves.

The Saligaud.

I can't give it up.Not after what happened the last time.I know what to do.

The pressure rises and I disappear.

In an instant, I'm just behind Gangplank, ready to act.

One of his sailors spots me.He looks amazed, as if he was trying to understand how I got there.While he thinks, I hit him in the face.He collapses in a crowd of dumbfounded sailors.They turn to me by taking out their sabers.Gangplank leads the attack and targets my throat.

But I am faster.In a perfectly mastered gesture, I slide under the steel blades and recover the silver dagger hung on the gangplank belt.Behind me, I hear a juron to make an imperial palace collapse.

I rush on the bridge by putting the knife to my belt, just when the chain will disappear.I jumped and grab the last steel link to the second where it switches over edge.

The chain trains me with her and I suddenly realize what I just did.

Water goes up to me at high speed.For a second, I am tempted to let go of the chain.I was born with river nomads and I don't know how to swim: it's my curse always.Today it will be my death.

I swallow a last breath of air.Then a ball strikes my shoulder.I scream in pain and, just before being trained under the waves, my lungs empty.

Cold water slaps my face while I sink into the ocean.

I am in the middle of a nightmare.

Panic seizes me.I try to curb her.I am almost incapable.Other bullets pierce the water around me.I always flow.

All around, the sharks and the Mantas rays make circles.They taste blood.They follow me in the abyss.

Everything is only terror.More pain.My heart resonates to my ears.My chest is on fire.I have to prevent water from entering.I am plunged into darkness.Too profound.No return possible.I'm sure now.

But I can still save Malcolm.

A shock below me and the tension of the chain relaxes.The cannon touched the bottom.

I pull myself with the chain towards the depths.I see a form in me.I think it's serious.I save myself towards him.

Suddenly, he is right in front of me, although I barely distinguish his features.I think he makes me a sign.It is furious that I followed him.

I feel fainting.My arm is numb and my skull is caught in a vice.

I let go of the chain, I come out the dagger.My hand trembles.

I am struggling in the darkness.By I do not know what miracle, I manage to find the lock of the serious handcuffs.I try to open it with the blade, as I have done a hundred times already.But my hands keep shaking.

Even serious must be terrified.His lungs must be about to let go.The lock does not move.

What would Malcolm?

I move the dagger.No finesse.Brute force.

The blade slides.I think I cut my hand.The knife falls.In the abyss.And There you go...Is she shining?

Above me, a flamboyant red.Red and orange...Everywhere.It's nice...So that's it, die?

I laugh.

The water flows.

Everything is so peaceful.

Act III: Third part

Ruines et feux, Conclusion, Le pire est toujours sûr

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Miss Fortune observed the port from the bridge of her ship, Syren.Her pupils reflected the flames while she considered the extent of the destruction she had caused.

There was only gangplank boat left of burnt ruins.The crew had been killed in the detonation, had drowned or had been shredded by the swarms of mantas rays.

It had been beautiful.A sublime night sun had ignited the darkness.

Half of the city had seen it.Gangplank himself had not been able to miss that, as she had planned.He could not not exhibit Twisted Fate and serious in front of any bilgewater.He had to remind everyone of why no one had an interest in overtaking them.For Gangplank, people were only tools intended to maintain control, and it was this cynicism that had resulted in his fall.

Howls and death knells responded to the whole city.The news spread like a fire.

Gangplank is dead.

She sketched a smile.

What had happened tonight was only the conclusion.Engage TF, warn Graves, all with the sole purpose of being a diversion from Gangplank.It had taken her years to go to the end of his revenge.

Miss Fortune's smile faints.

Since the second he had sprang in his family's workshop, her face covered by a red scarf, she was preparing for this moment.

Sarah had lost her two parents that day.She was only a child, but he had not hesitated to shoot her too when she looked at her family bleeding on the ground.

Gangplank had given him a cruel lesson: we may feel safe, everything we have, that we have built, that we love can disappear in a second.

The only gangplank error was not to make sure she was dead.His anger and hatred had supported him during the icy night who had followed, and every night since.

For fifteen years, she had set up everything she needed;waiting for his time, waiting for him to lower his guard, satisfied with the life he had built himself.It is only there that he would be able to lose everything.It is only where he would understand what it means to lose your home.His world.

She should have felt ecstatic.She felt empty.

Surprise, joining her, drew Sarah from her reverie.

" He is dead.It's finish.»»

« Non»», répliqua Miss Fortune." Not yet.»»

She turned her back to the port to watch bilgewater.Sarah had hoped that killing him would end her hatred.But she had only broken her ties.For the first time since that day, she felt really powerful.

« Ce n'est que le début»», dit-elle."I want all those who are loyal to him to be punished.I want the head of his lieutenants on my wall.Burns all tripotes, all taverns, all warehouses that carry its mark.And I want his corpse.»»

Surprise was shaken.Others had pronounced similar orders already.Never she.

Act III: Fourth part

Un ciel rouge, Au fond des océans, Réconciliation

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I thought a lot about the way I die.Chained like a dog at the bottom of the ocean, I must say, it had never crossed my mind.Fortunately for me, TF manages to force the lock of my handcuffs just before losing his knife.

I get rid of the channels.I need to breathe.I turn to TF.The poor does not move.I take it at the pass and I start towards the surface.

While we go up, everything suddenly becomes bright red.

A shock wave overturns me.Iron pieces flow around us.A cannon sinks into the abyss.A piece of rudder.Bodies, too.A face covered with tattoos looks at me with amazement.The beheaded head then slowly disappears in the dark depths.

I swim faster, my lungs ready to explode.

I finally break the surface, I spit out salt water and I swallow all the air that I can.But it's barely breathable.The smoke chokes me and burns my eyes.I have seen fires in my life, but never anything like.It is the whole world that seems drowned in the flames.

" Hell...»», m'entends-je murmurer.

The gangplank ship is no longer.Debris floats all the bay.Pieces of wood fall everywhere.A buried sail falls in front of us, threatening to flow definitively, TF and I.Fire men are desperately looking to escape the blaze by throwing themselves into the water.It looks like there is only sulfur, ashes and dead, in a smell of fiery hair and melted skin.

I find it difficult to keep TF on the surface.It is much heavier than it looks, and my broken ribs do not help.A piece of carbonal shell floats nearby.He looks quite solid.I bother us both.It is not a rescue canoe, but it will do the trick.

I can finally take a serious look at TF.He does not breathe.I hit her chest with both fists.He suddenly spitting liters of sea water when I start to be afraid to drive his rib cage.I collapse next to him and shake his head while he recovers slowly.

« Espèce de crétin ! Pourquoi tu es revenu ?»»

It takes a minute to answer.

« J'ai décidé de faire les choses à ta façon»», marmonne-t-il."To see what it is to be a stubborn donkey.»» Il crache encore de l'eau." I've known better.»»

The worst marine predators are the priest around us.But I don't feel a mash soul and I go out with the feet of the water.

A sailor bursts the surface and tries to get on our raft.With a boot in the face, I push him away.A tentacle wraps around his neck and pulls it downwards.The fish will have something to take care of a moment.

Before fresh meat comes to miss again, I tear a board at our boat and I paddle far from this cans at will.

I act during what seems to me to last for hours.My arms are heavy and hurt me, but I'm not stupid enough to stop.When I finally put distance between the massacre and us, I collapse back to the boards.

I feel as empty as a rifle after hunting.I look at the bay.She is red of gangplank blood and her crew.Not a survivor in sight.

How is it that I still breathe?I may be the luckiest man of Runeterra.Or TF is lucky for two.

I see a corpse drift not far away.He has something familiar.I recognize the little consanguine sailor of gangplank, always wearing TF hat.I tear it to him and give it back to its owner.He doesn't even look surprised, as if he was sure that the Galurin would finally come back to him.

« Il ne nous reste plus qu'à retrouver ton fusil»», dit-il.

« Quoi, tu veux replonger ?»», lui dis-je en désignant les profondeurs.

TF becomes green.

" We do not have time. Je ne sais pas qui a fait ça, mais il a laissé Bilgewater sans patron»», lui dis-je."It will quickly turn at the point.»»

« Tu veux dire que tu peux vivre sans ton flingue ?»»

" Maybe not.But I know a very good gunsmith.»»

"Pilotver...»», répète-t-il, perdu dans ses pensées.

« Ce n'est pas l'argent qui manque là-bas, ces temps-ci»», dis-je.

TF thinks for a moment.

" Hmm.I'm not sure I want to associate myself with you again.You are even darker than before...»»

"Same for me.I'm not sure I want a partner called Twisted Fate. D'où ça sort, un nom pareil ?»»

« Je trouve ça beaucoup mieux que mon vrai nom !»», ricane TF.

"It defends.»»

I smile.It's like in the good old days.Then I take a severe mask and look at him straight in the eyes.

"Just a detail: if you still try to let me wear the hat, I blow your head.»»

Fate's laughter turns off.For a moment, he gives me my gaze.Then he smiles.

" Bargain.»»

Act II - Click here -

Act II: first part

Mixed on the quays, the Boucher bridge, a dam

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I cough while spitting black vapors.The smoke of the burned warehouse ignites my lungs, but I don't have time to catch my breath.TF is fleeing, and I refuse to spend a further eternity to run after all in all Runeterra.Everything must end this night.

This swelling sees me coming.He pushes some dockers to make a passage on the quay.He tries to use the card that will allow him to disappear, but he does not have time to concentrate.

Other hooks come out everywhere, such as ants at a picnic.Before they can block its passage, TF sends some of its explosive cards and sweeps away enemies.A handful of milestones, that doesn't make the weight.Me, it's something else.I come to collect my due and TF know it.He descends the platform as quickly as he can.

His scuffle with the guys from the port gives me just enough time to catch up.He sees me and shelters behind a huge whale bone.My rifle reduces its shield in crumbs and a rain of bone fragments falls around us.

He retorts while trying to tear my head, but a ball destroys his card in full flight.She explodes like a bomb and reverse us both.He leaps on his feet and goes.I shoot as fast as my trombon is capable.

Hooks are approaching with chains and sabers.I turn around and transform them into a pâté flesh.Before the guts fall on the platform, I pivot again.I'm targeting TF, but a pistol shot nails me on site.Still hooks, and better armed.

I crouched behind an old trawler case to retaliate.A simple click.I have to recharge.I introduce ammunition in the cylinder, evacuate my anger by spitting on the ground and immersing me in chaos.

All around me, bullets shatter the wooden boxes.A piece of my ear is swept away.I squeeze my teeth and advance, pressing the relaxation.Destiny brushes everything.A notched hook loses its lower jaw, another is propelled into the bay.A third collapses in a blood pond.

I see TF who escapes towards the quays-abattoirs.I run by running a fisherman who hangs eels.One of them, freshly debited, pours its organs on the quay.The fisherman turns to me by waving a hook.

Boom.

I tear his leg.

Boom.

And then his head.

I pushing a foul carcass of fish-lazing and I continue.I sink into my blood to the ankles, and it's not just fish blood.What give an attack to a dandy like TF.Even with me when he kits, he slows down to best preserve his clothes.

But before I could approach, TF accelerates suddenly.

« Affronte-moi de face !»»

What kind of man flees his problems?

A noise attracts my attention to the right.Two hooks on a balcony.I shoot and the whole collapses on the ground.

The smoke of detonations and the dust of the debris are so thick that I no longer see anything.I trust the sound of her girl heels on the wooden boards.He rushes towards the Boucher bridge, at the end of the quays-abattoirs.The only way out to leave the island.No way to let him go.

When I arrive at the bridge, I see tf pile halfway.I first think that he abandoned.Then I understand: on the other side, a mass of might armed with sabers blocks the passage.I do not back off.

TF turns around and realizes me.He is stuck.He takes a look at the water.He plans to jump, but I know he won't do it.

He has no more options.He sets out to me.

"Listen, Malcolm.It is useless that we die here.As soon as we are out of this...»»

"You will end up again.You have never done anything else.»»

He does not answer.Suddenly, it was no longer me who worries him.I turn around to see what he is fixing.

Behind me, I discover the whole scum capable of wearing a saber or a pistol swept on the quays.Gangplank sounded the general jerk.A death sentence is worth that.

But for me, today, living is not the most important.

Act II: second part

Près du but, Au-dessus des abysses, Plongeon

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The hooks do not hurry.No longer.We are in the trap.Behind them, all the Bilgewater gauge skips seem to have been invited to the party.No way.

At the end of the bridge, prohibiting my leak towards the lower districts of Bilgewater, I think I see all the red galures of the city.They reign on the bank is.Gangplank has the hand on them, as on hooks and as on almost all this satanus cited.

Behind me, there is serious approaching noise.This obstinate fool makes fun of the situation in which we are.It's really unbelievable.As before.We are in moving sands and he refuses to listen.

I would like to be able to explain to him what happened at the time, but what good?He won't believe me.When he has an idea in the calabash, no need to try to reason.Especially since time is running out.

I stick to the railing.I see the pulleys and the winches hanging under the bridge and, much lower, the water.My head turns and my stomach falls into my heels.I refuse towards the middle of the bridge and I understand in which situation I am.

In the distance, I distinguish the ship with the black sails of gangplank.An armada of canoes comes from it and approaches with big rowing.All his men go to us.

Impossible to pass the hooks, impossible to pass the galleys and impossible to reason with this wad from serious.

I only have one solution left.

I get on the bridge railing.We are even higher than I thought.The wind snaps my coat like the sails of a ship.I should never have returned to Bilgewater.

« Saute et va en enfer !»», dit Graves.Is there despair in his voice?It would kill him that I die before the confession he expects from me.

I take a deep inspiration.It's really very high.

« Tobias, descends»», dit Malcolm.

I stop.I haven't heard this name for so long.

Then I jump.

Act II: Third part

Représentation, Un observateur, Dans la nuit

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The bronze hydra was one of the rare taverns of Bilgewater which was not covered with sawdust.It was hardly overturned, the teeth generally remained there in the mouths.But that night, you could hear its customers to the promontory of divers.

Men of excellent reputation, with comfortable means, launched themselves into dubious songs celebrating worse actions.

And there, in the midst of them, held the manager of the festivities.

She turned on herself, offered a toast to the port captain and her watch.Her sumptuous red hair turned, captivating the gaze of all the men who remained riveted to her.

The glasses immediately filled empty: the siren with fire hair took care.But it was not for alcohol that customers stayed at the tavern.It was for her next smile.

In the midst of general joy, the door opened.A man with simple clothes entered.With the kind of discretion that requires years of practice, he went to the bar and asked for a drink.

In the center of the disparate crowd, the young woman seized a mug of beer.

« Mes chers amis, je crains de devoir partir à présent !»»

The watch of the port protested with force recriminations.

« Allons, allons, nous nous sommes bien amusés»», dit-elle affable."But I still have a lot to do and you are all very late for your guard round.»»

She jumped on a table and looked at them with a triumphant air.

« Que la Mère Serpent nous accorde sa pitié pour nos péchés !»»

She illuminated her most captivating smile, lifted the mug to her lips and swallowed beer into a gigantic sip.

« Surtout les plus gros !»», ajouta-t-elle en abattant le verre sur la table.

She wiped the foam on her mouth and in a general roar threw a kiss to all.

Like lackeys in front of their queen, customers moved away.

The port captain elegantly held his door.He wanted to beg for a last look, but she was back in the crowd before he had time to get up from his Courbette.

Outside, the moon had disappeared behind the nest of citizens and the shadows of the night seemed to come to meet the young woman.Each step away from the tavern gained insurance.His carelessness of carelessness was evaporating to reveal his true nature.

His smile, his air of cheerful good humor had disappeared.Her gaze was hard, she no longer saw the streets around her, her eyes wore far beyond and searched the innumerable possibilities of the night.

The man with simple tavern clothes won over her.His steps were silent, but surprisingly fast.

He aligned his approach with his in perfect unison, a step behind her, on the outskirts of his vision.

« Tout est en place, Rafen ?»», demanda-t-elle.

After all her years, her inability to surprise her continued to surprise her.

« Yes, capitaine»», dit-il.

« On ne t'a pas repéré ?»»

« Non»», affirma-t-il, réfrénant son déplaisir devant cette question."The port captain was not there to monitor and the ship was almost empty.»»

« Et le gosse ?»»

"He played his role.»»

" Good.We will meet in Syren.»»

To these words, Rafen disappeared in the darkness.

She continued alone in the night that included her.Everything was walking as planned.He only had to wait for the start of the show.

Act II: Fourth part

La plongée, La plus belle paire de bottes, Oranges

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I hear seriously roar while I jump from the bridge.I only see the rope below me.There is no point in thinking about falling in dark depths.

The wind blurs my vision.

I scream almost with joy when I manage to grab the rope, but she burns my palm like a fiery Tison.My fall is blocked net and I slide at the end of the rope.

I stay there for a while, suspended while swearing.

It seems that falling into the water of this height does not kill, but I better try to try my luck on the stone quay, fifty feet in the.I will probably die, but I prefer that to drown.

Between the stone quay and me, there is a pair of thick cables that run to Bilgewater strictly speaking;one for the outward journey, one for the return.Rudimentary and noisy mechanisms make them work.They transport debited portions of marine animals to the markets.

The cables emit a scraping while a huge rusty bucket approaches me out of jolts.

A smile takes shape for a second on my lips.Until I see what the tub contains.I am about to jump with feet joined in a soft mass of rottes of rotten fish.

It took me months to win enough to offer me my boots.Flexible like rubber and solid as steel, they were made in the leather of a dragon of the abyss.There are not four pairs in the world.

Curse.

I jump with precision and spot in the middle of the tub.Cold and viscous material infiltrates each seam of my dear boots.At least my hat remained clean.

Suddenly, I hear this damn rifle barrel again.

The mooring line explodes.

The bucket rumbles by freeing itself from the cables.The wind slaps me while the tub falls on the stone ground.I feel the shock against the quay before everything overturns on the side.

The sky falls on my head.And a ton of fish organs.

I fight to get up and I am looking for a way out.Gangplank's henchmen approach.They are almost there.

Still stunned, I drag myself to a small boat attached to the quay.I am barely halfway when a gunshot drips a hole in the shell, which makes it flow immediately.

I drop on my knees, exhausted.I try to resume my breath.Malcolm overlooks me.He is going down, too.Nothing surprising.

« On est moins coquet, maintenant, hein ?»», sourit-il en me regardant de haut en bas.

« Tu n'apprendras donc jamais ?»», dis-je en me relevant."Whenever I try to help you, I...»»

He shoots on the ground, right in front of me.I feel a brilliance drives my chin."If you only listen...»»

"Oh, I have my slap to listen. C'était le plus gros coup de notre vie, et avant que j'aie le temps de dire ouf, tu avais filé !»»

" What ?But I had you, however,...»»

Another detonation, another rain of stones, but I am no longer afraid of that.

"I tried to get us out of there.Everyone saw that it was going wrong, but you didn't want to hear anything.You never listen.»» La carte est dans ma main avant même que je ne m'en rende compte.

"All you had to do was cover my back.We would have emerged unscathed and rich.But you spun...»», dit Graves en avançant.The man I have known seems lost in a universe of hatred.

I no longer try to say something else.I see him at his gaze.Something broke inside him.

Over his shoulder, a glow captures my attention.A flint plate.The first of the men of gangplank is on us.

Without thinking, I launch the card.She flies towards Graves.

He fired.

My card slaughter the gangplank man.His pistol aimed at Malcolm's back.

Behind me, another member of his crew collapses on the ground, a knife in his hand.If Graves hadn't gotten her down, it was over to me.

We take a look.Old habits.

The men of gangplank surround us and approach, noisy and mocking.There are too many of them to fight them.

It doesn't stop serious.He lifts his cannon, but he is short of ammunition.

I don't shoot any card.It's no use.

Malcolm roars and go for it.It's his way of being.He destroys the nose of a grip with butt before succumbing under the mass.

Hands seize me, immobilize my arms.Malcolm is put back on foot.Blood flows from his face.

The clamor of the crowd around us suddenly is silent.The atmosphere is disturbing.

The mum wall opens to let a red coat have passed a silhouette.

Gangplank.

Up close, it is larger than life.Older too.His features are deep and chubricated.

He holds an orange in his hand, which he peels with a carved handle knife.He takes all his time.It is meticulous.

« Alors, les gars»», dit-il (sa voix est un grondement caverneux). « Vous aimez la sculpture sur os ?»»

Act I - Click here -

Act I: first part

Les quais-abattoirs, Le boulot, Un vieil ami

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The quays of the city with rats.The stench is recognizable among a thousand.And yet here I am, hidden in the dark, inhaling the hints of bile and blood of sea snakes that.

I found myself more deeply in the dark and I lower the edge of my hat on my face when I see the heavy limited limbs of the notchy hooks tumble down.These types have a reputation for savagery.In loyal fight, they might have the upper hand over me.But I have nothing of a loyal gentleman and I'm not here to fight.Not this time.

So why am I here, in one of the worst districts of Bilgewater?For money.Obviously.

Accept this work was a bet, but the promised amount was such that I could not refuse.And then I did recognition around, to put the assets on my side.I don't intend to dwell.I want to enter and come out as quickly and silently as possible.Once the job is completed, I will recover what I am and I will spin before dawn.If all goes well, I will be halfway from Valoran before we spot the disappearance of anything.

Truas are turning the angle of the colossal slaughterhouse.It means that I have two minutes before their round goes back here.More time than it takes.The moon is overshadowed by clouds.The platform blends into the darkness.Caisses landed during the day are distributed all over the port.Nothing could be simpler than moving covered.

On the roof of the main warehouse, I see silhouettes that stand guard, crossbow.They discuss aloud like fish merchants.I could wear a cow bell and they wouldn't hear anything.They think that no one is stupid enough to try to enter here.A buffected body is suspended to serve as a warning.It turns slowly in the night breeze of the port.It's a horrible show.A huge hook keeps it in the air.The kind of hook usually reserved for Mantas rays.I swap the packets of abandoned chains on the wet stone and I sneak between two cranes.They are used to buttose sea monsters.It is because of these butcher shops that the pestilential smell permeates everything in the region.When all this is over, I will have to offer new clothes.

On the other side of the bay, beyond the waters of the quays of the bait, rows of ships are anchor.The reflection of their lander swings gently on the surface.One of these vessels draws my attention.It is a big galleon of war with black sails.I know who belongs to this boat.Everyone knows it in Bilgewater. I stop une seconde pour jouir de la situation.I am about to fly the most powerful man in the city.There is always a certain pleasure to spit in the face of death.

As I expected, the main warehouse is more locked than the spirit of a bourgeois.Guards at each entry.Closed and barred doors.For any other than me, insurmountable obstacles.I crouched in a dark alley, in front of the warehouse.It is a dead end, and it is not as dark as I would like.If I am still there on the return from the patrol, they will see me.And if they put my hand to the collar, I will only have to pray for a quick death.The most likely is that I will be taken to him...And it will be a much longer and more painful way to leave.

As always, the trick is not to get caught...

And then I hear them.The round comes back too early.I have a few seconds left, at best.I take out a card from my sleeve and make it slide between my fingers.It is as natural to me as to breathe.This is the easy part.For the rest, impossible to go faster.

I let my mind wander while my card begins to shine.The pressure grows around me and I suddenly feel that for me, everywhere is possible.I close my eyes half, I concentrate, I visualize the place where I must be.

Then it is the usual feeling in the hollow of the guts, and I evaporate.A simple air movement and I am inside the warehouse.I disappeared without leaving any trace.

I'm really good.

One of the notched hooks may take a look at the aisle.If this is the case, all he will see, it is a card to be made by the breeze.

I need a moment to find my minds.The sieved lights of external lanterns infiltrate disjoint boards.Little by little, my gaze adapts.

The warehouse is overloaded, filled with treasures looted over the twelve seas: sparkling pieces of armor, exotic works of art, sumptuous bristles.All things of considerable value, but that is not why I came.

I'm looking for the doors of the warehouse that overlook the quays.I know this is where I will find the most recent arrivals.I run my fingers on the boxes and chests...until I come across a small wooden box.I feel the power that emanates.That's why I'm here.

I lift the cover.

I can finally see it.A knife of an exquisite drawing on a black velvet bed.I hold my hand...

Chh-chunk.

I immerse myself.I would recognize this sound anywhere.

Before he even speaks, I know who stands behind me in the darkness.

« TF»», dit Graves."It's a hell of a lease.»»

Act I: second part

L'attente, Retrouvailles, Feux d'artifice

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I've been here for hours.Some would be bored to remain motionless for so long, but my rage keeps me company.I will not leave this place before having settled my accounts.

Well after midnight, the viper was finally shown.He suddenly appeared in the warehouse, thanks to his old sleight of hand.I prepare my rifle, ready to avoid it.After all these years to run behind this dirty traitor, here it is finally at the end of my guns.

« TF»», dis-je."It's a hell of a lease.»»

I had prepared a little speech for this reunion.I forgot it at the minute when I saw it.

But TF has no reaction.He is impassive.No fear, no regret, not the shadow of stupor.Impavid even in front of a busy rifle.That the gods damn it.

« Malcolm, depuis combien de temps tu attends ici ?»», me demande-t-il – et sa voix narquoise me plonge dans une rage folle.

I aim.I can press the relaxation and abandon a corpse behind me.

I should do it.

But not yet.I need to hear him explain. « Pourquoi ?»» Ah, je sais bien qu'il va trouver quelque chose de malin à rétorquer.

"Is this rifle really essential?"I thought we were friends.»»

Friends.This swelling doesn't care about me.The desire grabs me to tear her head.But I have to keep my cool.

"I see that you are still so pretty.»»

My clothes were shredded by Mantas rays.I had to swim to pass the guards.Since he has three sous in his pocket, TF has been stuck with elegance.I can't wait to quantify him a little.But first, I want answers.

"Tell me why you dropped me, or we will find little ends of your pretty person in all corners.»» Voilà ce qui se passe quand on a affaire à TF.You give him soft and it is you who find you to dance at the end of his strings.

Flexible as an eel.It was practical when we were partners.

« Dix ans au Mitard ! Tu sais ce que ça fait ?»»

He ignores it.For once, there is nothing ironic to answer.He knows he betrayed me.

"They did me things that would lead most men to madness.Only the rage allowed me to hold.And the idea of finding you one day.»»

He recovers quickly.He does the clever again: "You should thank me, then.It is thanks to me that you are alive.»»

This time I lose my bloody.I am so furious that I have my eyes injected with blood.He tries to provoke me.When I am blinded by rage, he can play his little disappearance number.I breathe deeply and I neglect the bait.It is surprised that I don't bite.But this time, I will have my answers.

« Combien ils t'ont payé pour me vendre ?»»

TF stands there, smiling, only trying to save time.

"Malcolm, I would really like to have this conversation with you, but it's neither the place nor the time.»»

Almost too late, I spot the card that dances between his fingers.I rely on relaxation.

Blam.

No more card.The hand did not go far either.

« Idiot !»», aboie-t-il.Good.I finally made her lose his calm. « Tu viens de réveiller l'île au grand complet ! Tu sais à qui appartient cet endroit ?»»

I do not care.

I prepare again to shoot.I barely see his hands move and the cards explode all around me.I retaliate, without knowing if I want to dead or almost dead.

Before I can't find him in smoke and gicening wood chips, a door opens violently.

A dozen milestones arise loudly and add to the confusion.

« Alors, c'est vraiment comme ça que tu veux que ça se passe ?»», demande TF, prêt à me jeter une nouvelle poignée de cartes.

I do yes in the head and I straighten the dogs of my weapon.

It's time to adjust this once and for all.

Act I: Third part

Atouts, Alarme, Tour de main

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The situation degenerates.Rapidly.

The whole warehouse is teeming with notched hooks, but Malcolm doesn't care about it.He is only interested in me.

I feel the next grave discharge coming and I dodge myself.The detonation is deafening.A box explodes where I was a fraction of a second earlier.

I think my former partner tries to kill me.

I make a perilous jump above a mammoth ivory stock by launching three cards in its direction.Before they touch, I am already covered and I am looking for a way to spin.I only need a few seconds.

He swears loudly, but the cards manage to slow it at most.It was never a wimp.And he's stubborn.He never knows when you have to drop.

« Tu ne t'en sortiras pas, TF !»», grogne-t-il." Not this time.»»

Yes.Obstinate, we tell you.

But he's wrong, as usual.I will therefore go to the first opportunity.It's no use d'essayer de lui parler quand il a décidé de verser le sang.

Another detonation and shrapnels ricoche on a sumptuous armor of Demacia before screening the walls and the floor.I dive to the right and to the left, I dodge and I pretend, I go from one shelter to another.He remains in my Basques, vociferating threats and accusations, his rifle barking in his hands.Graves moves quickly for a man of his stature.I had almost forgotten it.

And he is not the only problem.This fool woke up a hornet nest with his shots and his din.The notched hooks will melt on us, not without having left men to prohibit all the outlets.

I have to go.But not without what I came to get.

I made serious dancing throughout the warehouse and I am back where we started our round.There are hooks between my booty and me, and reinforcements arrive, but I cannot afford to wait.The map, in my hand, vibrates with a red glow.I propel it straight into the doors of the warehouse.The detonation tears them from their hinges and disperses the hooks.I approach.

One of the triggers recover faster than I hoped and tried to hit me with his hatchet.I dodge and breaks his knee with a boot while throwing other cards to his comrades to teach them the virtues of modesty.

My way is free.I grab the ornate dagger that I was hired to fly and slide it on my belt.The night is hectic.I deserve compensation.

The doors are within my reach, but the hooks pile up there.No way to spin here, so I head for the only quiet corner of this crazy asylum.

A dance card in my hand: I prepare to disappear.But while I am about to succeed, Graves appears.He follows me like a rabid bear.His rifle speaks to a notched hook and must tell him very unpleasant things, because he falls backwards.

Graves's gaze is attracted by the card that shines in my palm.He knows what it means and he straightens his smoking guns towards me.I have to spin, which interrupts my concentration.

« Tu ne pourras pas fuir jusqu'à la fin des temps !»», hurle-t-il.

For once, he does not behave stupidly.He refuses to give me the time I need.

He prevents me from playing in my own way and the idea that I risk falling into the hands of hooks begins to weigh heavily on me.Their leader has no mercy.

Among the thousand thoughts that are agitated in my head, there is the conviction that I was trapped.I am offered an easy job in white, a lot of money when I need it most, and...surprise !My old partner is there waiting for me.Someone much clearer than Graves is played out on me.

But I am better than they believe.Good sûr, je mérite des coups pour avoir été négligent.And apparently, there are lots of people here who wants to give me what I deserve.

For the time being, the only thing that matters is to spin from here.Two Malcolm shots encourage me to accelerate.I find myself back to a big wooden case.A crossbow tile lodges above my head, just a few centimeters.

« On ne va nulle part !»», hurle Graves.

I look around and I see that the flames of the explosion attack the roof.Indeed, it will be hard to go somewhere.

« On nous a vendus, Graves !»»

« Et tu t'y connais !»»

I try to reason with him.

"Together, we can get out of this situation.»»

I have to start to be desperate.

« Plutôt mourir que de te faire de nouveau confiance !»»

I expected that.Calling for his reason only enrages him.And that's exactly what I needed.Distract it enough to teleport me out of the warehouse.

I hear seriously roar inside.He has probably just tumbled into the position I occupied a second earlier.He found only one card that taunts him.

I launch a barrage of cards through the doors, behind me.The time of subtlety has passed.

I have a brief regret of having abandoned serious in the flames.But it won't kill him.He's too stubborn for that.In addition, fire quays are very serious in a port city.This fire is an excellent diversion.

While I'm looking for the fastest way to flee, I hear an explosion behind me.

Graves made his own door with a rifle.His gaze only talks about murder.

I greet him with a hat and I go.He launches in pursuit.

I must admit that I admire his determination.

With a little luck, it won't kill me tonight.

Act I: Fourth part

Gravure sur os, Une leçon de force, Un message

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The kid's eyes were enlarged by panic while he was led to the captain's cabin.

It was the howls of pain that crossed the door at the end of the corridor that made him regret his decision.Nobody aboard the huge black warship could not fail to hear these cries.That was the goal.

The bosco with a face covered with scars put a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder.They stopped in front of the door.The child shudders when hearing a new groan pierce the partition.

« Du calme»», dit le bosco, « le capitaine écoutera tout ce que tu as à lui dire.»»

He struck vigorously at the door.It was opened by a huge brute with a tattooed face, her huge saber stored in her back case.The boy did not hear their exchange.His gaze was screwed to the massive silhouette that turned his back on him, sitting in the cabin.

A strong, the captain.Middle-aged.The neck and shoulders of a bull.Her sleeves were raised and his arms broke with blood.A large red coat was hanged in a corner, with a black tricorne.

"Gangplank...»», murmura le gosse des rues, rempli de terreur et de fascination.

"Captain, I think you should hear that.»»

Gangplank says nothing and does not turn.He was concentrated on a task.The tattooed sailor pushed the boy who stumbled before finding his balance of accuracy.The child approached the captain as he would have done the edge of a cliff.His breathing accelerated when he saw what the pirate worked.

Basins of water stained with blood around knives, hooks and surgical instruments on his desktop.

A man was solidly tied up in front of him.Only his head was free.He was looking around in a state of hysterical despair, his face covered with sweat.

The boy's gaze was inexorably attracted by the prisoner's skinned leg.The kid suddenly realized that he no longer knew why he had come.

Gangplank looked up to stare the visitor.His eyes were cold and dead like those of a squale.He held a blade in one hand with the delicacies of an artist handling the brush.

« L'art de la gravure sur os se perd»», dit Gangplank, retournant à son travail."No one has patience, today.It takes time.You see ?Each cut has a goal.»»

Man was still alive, despite the state of his leg whose skin and flesh we had peeled to the bone.Petrified with horror, the kid looked at the subtle scrolls that the captain had just engraved on the leg.They were tentacles and waves.Elegant, almost beautiful work.It was all the more horrible.

Gangplank's living material had a sob.

" Pity...»», gémit-il.

Gangplank ignored the complaint and put his knife.He launched a glass of cheap whiskey on his work to clean blood.The man yelled to tear his vocal cords, before having the chance to lose consciousness.Gangplank Grogna of Disgust.

"Remember that, little.Sometimes even those who are loyal forget what their place is.We must remind them.True power is the way people see you.If you seem weak, just a second, you are finished.»»

The child approved the head, the white face.

« Réveille-le !»», dit Gangplank avec un geste en direction du matelot évanoui."The whole crew must hear his song.»»

While the on -board surgeon went on, Gangplank rests his gaze on the child.

« Alors, qu'est-ce que tu as à me dire ?»»

" A...A man...»», dit le gamin tétanisé. " A homme sur les quais de la Ville aux rats.»»

« Continue»», dit Gangplank.

"He was trying to hide hooks.But I saw him.»»

" Hmm-hmm...»», murmura Gangplank que cette histoire n'intéressait pas.He leaned again towards his work.

« Continue, petit»», encouragea le bosco.

"He had bizarre playing cards that shed light on.»»

Gangplank straightened up like a colossus gushing from the depths.

« Dis-moi où !»»

The leather belt of his sheath knocked down when he took it in hand.

"Near the warehouse, the Great next to the shelters.»»

Gangplank's face hit Rage.He put on his frock coat and tore off his tricorne on the wall.His eyes shone in the lights of the lamp.The child was not the only one to take a step back.

« Donne au gosse un serpent d'argent et un repas chaud»», ordonna le capitaine au bosco en s'élançant vers la porte de la cabine.

"And that everyone goes to the quays.We have work.»»