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3rd POV — Cooper Family Garage
The garage of the Cooper household had never felt so quiet. The usual clutter of tools and bikes had been pushed aside, replaced by a round table illuminated by a single hanging bulb, casting a golden glow over stacks of dice, hand-drawn maps, and crumpled character sheets.
They sat together—Sheldon, Tam, Veronica, Missy, Bobby Sparks, George Junior—like a crew awaiting orders. All eyes were locked on the boy at the center of the table, seated like a general before battle, half-hidden behind a tall Dungeon Master screen.
Georgie Cooper.
He didn't speak.
Instead, he closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and let silence stretch over the room like a heavy sail catching wind. His hands rested lightly on the screen before him, still—measured.
No one said a word.
Something shifted in the air, a gravity they all felt. As Georgie opened his eyes, there was something in them—a spark that seemed older than he was, deeper than the garage they sat in. For a fleeting moment, they weren't just kids anymore. They were travelers… about to step into a cursed sea.
And then he spoke, voice low and rich with dread:
{The sky above the Caribbean is dark as ink. The stars, cold and distant. Waves crash like thunder against forgotten shores. The wind screams through tattered sails. And far beyond the horizon, a ship glides—black as shadow, faster than any wind. They call it…}
Georgie's arms slowly rose, his fingers cutting through the air like he could sculpt the vision before them.
{The Black Pearl.}
His words wrapped around them like fog. They didn't just hear the name—they saw it. Each of them, for a flicker of a second, caught the image in their minds: a spectral ship with torn sails, manned by the damned, blades raised under a blood moon.
{The Black Pearl. Crewed by the dead… and captained by a man so evil, even Hell spat him back out.}
The room wasn't just quiet—it was suspended.
Their skin prickled.
Bobby Sparks blinked, her fingers twitching unconsciously toward her dice. Veronica's jaw clenched. George Jr. leaned forward, fully drawn in.
And then, with a sly smirk, Georgie dropped his tone to something playful, a spark of danger in his grin:
{But… your story doesn't begin there. Not yet.}
The spell cracked like the surface of still water. Georgie's voice became sharper, energized. He paced the edge of the table, tapping once with his knuckle.
{Your story begins… in Port Royal. You are searching for a man named Jack Sparrow.}
He tapped the table again. A rhythm.
{Captain Jack Sparrow.}
Tap.
{The man who vanished from under seven agents of the East India Company.}
Tap.
{The man who sacked Nassau Port without firing a single shot.}
Tap.
This time, someone joined in—Bobby, tapping in sync.
{The man who impersonated a cleric of the Church of England.}
One by one, the rest followed. A chorus of fingertips tapping against the wood like ritual drums.
{Impersonating an officer of the Spanish Royal Navy!}
Tap—tap—tap—tap—until the beat became fast, chaotic, tribal.
{Piracy! Smuggling! Kidnapping! Looting!}
Georgie threw his arms into the air and roared:
{THE CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW!}
The garage erupted.
Everyone shot up from their seats, fists in the air.
"Aye!!" they shouted, swept up in something between a battle cry and pure adrenaline.
Even Veronica joined in, her voice ringing loud and proud—before blinking in confusion, realizing how caught up she had just been. It didn't matter. They all felt it.
Georgie gave a sharp whistle, slicing through the noise with a single hand gesture. Silence returned as swiftly as it had left. Everyone sat back down, breathless, grinning. Their hearts were beating in rhythm with something far away, something ancient.
Georgie opened his arms and lowered his voice again, leading them in:
{Your journey begins at this Port Royal… in a tavern filled with music, gossip, and the occasional sailor brawl. Tonight, the city celebrates—Captain Norrington's promotion, and the arrest of a pirate believed to be dangerous.
The tavern smells of spilled rum and salty sweat. A bard plays in the corner, and the chatter is loud, vibrant. But everything stops the moment the door bursts open.}
BAM!
Everyone looked up, involuntarily.
{Six figures enter. Six strangers of various races and histories. They stand tall, silhouetted by the firelight.}
Georgie looked directly at Sheldon, "Alright, Sheldor—you kick the door open. I want all four of you to roll for Intimidation to see if the room goes quiet."
Missy raised her hand, almost offended, "What about me?!"
Georgie blinked. Thought for a second. Then answered with a mock-apologetic shrug.
"You three are human women. And, well... in this era, that's not exactly terrifying. Blame the century. Not me."
Veronica raised an eyebrow. Bobby frowned. Missy scoffed loud enough for the garage walls to hear.
"Seriously?" Bobby crossed her arms, glancing sideways at Missy. "Told you we should've gone full scary. Eye makeup. Scar makeup. Chains."
Missy rolled her eyes. "Oh please, Bobby, last time you tried that you looked like an undead chimney sweep." Missy said remembering the Halloween she have in this neighbourhood.
"It was Halloween!"
Sheldon ignored these women and straightened. "I shall attempt to impress them through posture and presence."
Tam rolled his die. "Eighteen."
George Jr. groaned, "Seven."
Sheldon sighed, "Nine."
Missy snorted. "Someone's off to a bad start."
Sheldon threw her a glare. "It's statistical variance."
Georgie, not missing a beat, rose from his seat with theatrical command.
{The tavern does not quiet. In fact, someone slams their mug to the table and snarls: 'Who are you people?!'
Laughter follows. A few mock the newcomers—until their eyes land on Tamos. His arms, scarred and muscled, his stance like that of a seasoned killer. Even for his half-elf body. That's when the room shifts.}
Georgie turned to Tam, voice low and dramatic.
"Now, Tam. What do you do?"
Tam paused… then leaned forward.
{Tamos steps ahead of the others, silent at first. Then he stares directly at the man who shouted. 'I'm looking for Jack Sparrow,' he says. 'I heard he's here.'}
Tam leaned forward, eyes sharp.
{Tamos steps ahead, silent at first. He looks the loudmouth dead in the eye. 'I'm looking for Jack Sparrow,' he says. 'I heard he's here.'}
Georgie nodded in approval, then continued in a darker tone.
{'The pirate?' one of the locals spits, squinting suspiciously at your group. 'Are you his comrades?'}
Everyone glanced around the table. No one answered—until Veronica spoke, voice cool and steady.
{V steps beside Tamos, arms crossed. 'No,' she says. 'But we heard he knows about the Black Pearl—the ship that sails these seas and strikes fear into the hearts of men.'}
Georgie raised an eyebrow.
"Roll Deception."
Veronica hesitated, swallowed hard. All eyes were on her as she picked up the D20… and tossed it across the table.
"Twenty!"
Cheers erupted. Bobby clapped. Tam whistled.
"Crit!" Sheldon said in disbelief.
Georgie glanced at the die, then nodded solemnly.
{The tavern quiets. The mocking voices fall silent. Some of the men nod slowly, their eyes darkening at the name. But then—
Laughter breaks out again.
'The Black Pearl?! That's a myth!' someone hollers, and others join in, roaring with drunken disbelief.}
Missy scowled, "Should we kill them?" she whispered to Veronica.
All heads turned toward her.
"Don't!" Sheldon hissed. "We're level one. We'll die if the Navy even sneezes at us."
Missy scoffed but said nothing more.
Meanwhile, Bobby raised her hand.
"Georgie? Can I… maybe steal a coin pouch or two? From someone drunk?"
Georgie grinned, clearly enjoying himself.
"Excellent question. You can do anything in this world—as long as you tell me, and I'll tell you if it works."
He turned toward Bobby.
"So… who are you trying to rob?"
"Uh… I dunno. Someone really drunk."
Tam nodded seriously. "Drunk guy's always the easiest."
"Sleight of Hand check!" Georgie ordered.
The die clattered across the table.
"Fifteen!"
Georgie smirked.
{While chaos and laughter fill the tavern with you guys sit down with them, Elena slinks through the shadows. Her fingers slide into a drunkard's pouch… only to find it empty.
No coin. Just a piece of lint and the smell of spilled ale.}
Bobby groaned, "Ugh. That's not fair."
Junior nodded solemnly, "Yeah. My dad used to get drunk, but he always gave his wallet to Mom first."
"He's broke," Missy said, pointing a finger at Georgie.
"Confirmed," Georgie replied, laughing.
Tam stroked an imaginary beard, "Maybe we steal from the bard instead?"
"No!" Sheldon snapped. "Do not listen to him!"
Veronica held up a hand to stop Missy and Bobby, who had already perked up at the idea.
"If we steal from anyone important and get caught, we'll be branded criminals."
Missy and Bobby glared at Tam.
"Hey, it was just a suggestion," Tam said innocently, hands raised.
Georgie looked around.
"Alright. Anyone else want to do anything?"
The group shook their heads.
Georgie shifted tone again—his voice softening like a mist creeping in through a crack in the door.
{A tavern maid named Elisa approaches your table, setting down drinks. She leans in, her voice sweet and low. 'If you're looking for the cursed ship, you're in the wrong port… but if you're looking for Jack Sparrow, then you're right where you need to be.'
From behind the bar, the barkeep booms: 'He's in the jail. Waiting for the rope to kiss his neck!'}
The players exchanged looks.
"What do we do?" Sheldon asked aloud, his brain already spinning.
"We should go break him out!" Missy shouted, slamming her small hand onto the table.
"Terrible idea," Junior said. "Let's rest and wait for the right moment."
Sheldon nodded as if leading the charge, even though no one asked him to.
"We'll stay the night. Maybe ask the guards in the morning for a meeting."
He turned toward Georgie.
{"We stay the night at an inn," said Sheldor. 'We'll speak to the guards tomorrow.'
The tavern roars on around you,} Georgie continued, his voice rich and slow. {Songs echo off the beams. Tankards clash. Sailors laugh and drink as if nothing is wrong.}
Then Georgie paused. His voice dropped to a whisper.
{But outside…}
He touched the table with both hands, eyes scanning the group like a storm about to break.
{You step into the night—and the cold hits you. It's not the sea breeze… no. This chill burrows deep into your bones. Goosebumps rise. Your breath clouds the air. Something's wrong.}
And then—
BAM!
Georgie slammed both hands onto the table. Everyone flinched.
{A cannonball strikes the outer wall of Port Royal. Stone explodes. The fortress is breached.}
They stared at him, stunned.
"Wha—what?!"
"Enemy attack!" Sheldon cried.
Georgie didn't let them speak further.
{More cannonfire. BOOM! Houses crumble. Screams fill the streets—women and children running, chaos unfolding.
'HAHAHA! BURN THEM ALL!' A voice shrieks through the smoke. Pirates.}
He leaned over the table, eyes wild, grinning like a man possessed.
Missy was already grinning back.
"Nice! I want to kill them all!"
{You draw your blades,} Georgie said with deep voice, {and the pirates charge through the streets, swords swinging, eyes crazed.}
He let the moment linger.
Then shouted—
"ROLL INITIATIVE!!!"
Dice flew. The battle had begun.
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3rd POV – The Cooper Household, Living Room
"…I'm gonna see what they're doing right now!" Connie declared, finishing the last sip of her beer like a soldier before battle.
Mary spun around, "What are you doing?!" she hissed. "Are you not embarrassed? We have guests! Important guests."
"I'm curious!" Connie shot back. "Something's happening in that garage. You didn't hear him, Mary… earlier, when he sang—he wasn't just playing. It was like…" She paused, her voice lowering. "Like a storm coming in."
George S., lounging near the kitchen island with a cold drink, raised an eyebrow. "Storms, huh? All I heard was shouting and furniture scraping." He sipped. "Figured someone lost at Monopoly."
George Sr. snorted. "Nah, this ain't Monopoly, George. This is that dungeon game Sheldon's always yammering about. Dragons, dice, fake swords, the whole thing."
Mary muttered under her breath, "As long as they're not burning the house down, I'm happy."
But then—
BOOM!!
A loud thump echoed from the garage—followed by cheering, laughter, and the unmistakable sound of someone slamming both hands on a table like a war drum.
Everyone froze.
"What the hell was that?" George Sr. blinked.
George S. cocked his head. "Did they just declare war over there?"
Connie's eyes lit up. "I told you!"
"Alright, fine," George Sr. groaned, pushing off the counter. "Let's just check real quick. If nothing else, I wanna make sure Georgie isn't turning the garage into a pirate ship."
George S. stood too, half-smiling. "What? Jealous your boy's cooler than you were at his age?"
"I was plenty cool," George Sr. muttered. "Didn't need dice and dragons to be terrifying."
Mary sighed and wiped her hands on a towel. "You're all acting like children."
But she followed anyway.
—-
*3rd Pov - Garage
Georgie clapped his hands once—sharp, deliberate—and the room fell into silence again. Everyone was catching their breath, hearts still pounding from the intensity of the last encounter.
{The final pirate you split in two collapses to the ground. Around you, Port Royal burns. Chaos reigns. Cannonballs continue to rain from the sea, homes crumble into ash, and screaming townsfolk flee as pirates slaughter and pillage without mercy.}
Sheldon glanced nervously at the group. "What should we do?!"
Tam's voice cut through. "Wait… can we even see who we're really fighting?"
Everyone froze.
They had been slashing and casting and rolling dice—but Tam was right. Georgie had only ever called them "pirates." No names. No titles. No clue who they were up against.
Georgie's smile returned, but it wasn't a warm one. It stretched wider. Sinister. His white teeth glinted like a shark in dark water.
"Roll an Investigation check," he said softly.
Dice clattered onto the table.
"Sixteen," Missy called.
"Eighteen!" Veronica added with a grin.
"Twenty!" Bobby shouted, eyes wide.
The group erupted in cheers, clapping for Bobby's natural success.
The boys groaned, their dice betraying them once more. "Why?!" Sheldon frowned at his measly roll.
But Bobby had done it—rolled high enough to pierce Georgie's veil.
Everyone turned to face him, breath held.
Just as Georgie leaned forward… the garage door burst open.
The parents walked in.
"Hey guys. Don't mind us—we just want to watch!" Connie said, already pulling up a chair beside Georgie.
"You can't sit there," Georgie muttered. "That's the Dungeon Master's seat… and his right-hand man's."
Connie snorted, but respected the rules. She shuffled behind Sheldon instead.
George Cooper Sr., Mary, and George Strait followed, eyeing the character sheets and doodles on the table. Their gazes lingered longer than expected.
"Guys! You're ruining the mood!" Sheldon snapped.
"Dad! Shouldn't you be at the party?" Junior groaned.
George Strait ruffled his son's hair, though his eyes were fixed on the board. "I'll head back soon. Just curious what you're up to."
Georgie stood up, scanning the room like a commanding officer. "Alright, spectators—no talking. No distractions. This is sacred."
George Sr. scoffed but nodded. After all, he was the one who'd banned Georgie from the party in the first place.
Mary quietly took a seat behind Missy.
Then Georgie turned to Billy. A simple nod.
"All silent!" Billy barked in his only role tonight: campaign enforcer.
Everyone obeyed. Focus returned to Georgie.
{V, Elena, and Princess look down at the enemy you thought was defeated. A man—no, a husk—lies there, cleaved in half. But something is wrong. His clothes bear no emblem. No sign. No faction.}
Georgie's voice dropped into a whisper.
{He doesn't bleed like a man. He doesn't lie still like a corpse. The pirate you cut in two… is moving. His fingers twitch. Slowly.}
The room tensed. Even the adults leaned in unconsciously, caught by the invisible strings of Georgie's storytelling.
And then—Georgie's expression changed.
A wide, deranged grin spread across his face.
{GEHAHAHA!}
His laughter exploded across the garage.
"Jesus!" Mary flinched. She wasn't alone for that.
{The corpse you thought dead begins to rise… his body still torn, still split—and yet, he lives.}
Tam whispered, horrified, "The Black Pearl…"
The group turned to Georgie, their Dungeon Master—whose grin hadn't faded.
"What?! Is this the final boss already?!" Junior half-joked, half-panicked.
Georgie's voice was solemn now:
{Yes… The Black Pearl. No warning. No negotiation. It struck Port Royal like a hammer, tearing down its mighty walls as if they were sand. The most protected city in the Caribbean… laid to waste.}
"What do we do?" Georgie asked, daring them.
Sheldon slumped back, muttering, "We're level one…"
Tam leaned forward, desperate. "Is there anywhere to hide?"
Georgie's gaze sharpened. "Is that your choice?"
They nodded grimly.
"We can't kill them," Sheldon reasoned aloud. "You said the ship is crewed by the damned. If that's true, they'll just keep rising."
"So we run," Tam agreed. "Until we learn how to stop them."
Georgie nodded. "Roll Stealth."
The kids grabbed their dice and rolled, tension thick.
The parents watched from the sidelines, enthralled. They didn't fully grasp the lore, but the stakes were clear. This wasn't just a game anymore.
George Strait leaned toward George Sr., whispering, "If I were him, I'd swim under the docks, then climb the back alley to the armory."
George Sr. scoffed. "Nah. I'd disguise myself as a prisoner and walk right into the Navy fort. Easy."
Connie shushed them both, eyes wide on the scene.
Missy threw her die.
"Seventeen!"
"Ten," Junior groaned.
"Four…" Sheldon muttered.
Veronica held her breath. "Nineteen."
Bobby tossed hers.
"…Three."
Everyone looked at her.
"I trip, don't I?"
Georgie smirked.
{As the party slips through the burning alleys, Elena stumbles. A loose stone catches her foot—and she crashes to the ground, drawing the gaze of a nearby pirate… whose eyes glow red in the darkness.}
"NOOO!" Bobby shouted.
"Someone grab her!" Missy yelled.
"I cast Fog Cloud!" Sheldon cried.
And the dice flew again.