The raindrops slowly dropped onto the ground and the the thunder cracked in the background. The villagers were all gathered in a circle watching in solemn silence as two Royal Navy Officers marched a man in handcuffs up to a rope noose with just enough space to fit his neck into. The man looked down, avoiding the faces of the villagers and focusing on the noose ahead. The Navy officers reached the platform and roughly shoved him foreward. Lord Beckett stepped up to the platform and began to speak as two Navy officers forced the man's head into the noose.
"Today we gather to witness the execution of a man who has commited crimes against the Royal Navy and England. We have captured the First Mate on an amateur pirate ship known as the Roosevelt. Sir James Bartholomew has been accused of piracy and will be executed shortly. But before we begin with the execution, does Bartholomew have anything to say in his defense?"
Bartholomew defiantly spat on Lord Beckett's jacket. The two Navy officers punched Bartholomew and held him still. Bartholomew turned to Beckett and defiantly sneered. "You may have killed me but piracy will live on."
The thunder cracked as Bartholomew's knees buckled under the noose and he stopped breathing. James Bartholomew stood dead at the noose.
A young blacksmith had stood watching all of this through a window in his father's shop. The young boy had always dreamt of piracy and made a vow to make sure that Bartholomew had not died in vain.