Days had passed as the odd group made their way farther than any ship had ever gone. However, as they approached their seventh day at sea, the ship encountered a massive storm, Maelstroms ripped apart the ocean's surface with swirling vortices, the wind tattering the sails, and the choppy waves ripped wood away from the deck.
As the crew battle the storm, a massive wave rolled in, only to slam the small wooden ship underneath itself, scattering everyone. Nestlee managed to cling to a piece of driftwood, only passing out as he washed up on shore of an uncharted land. When he awoke, he was snapped awake by the sounds of fighting. The Blackbird was fending of savage cannibals looking to make a meal out of Nestlee. Once they were dead, the Blackbird helped Nestlee to his feet. "Come on, we must search for the others."
The Blackbird and Nestlee walked along the beach collecting supplies as they went. Eventually, they came to the wreckage of their ship, but no one was found. "Maybe they went inland?" Suggested Nestlee, his voice unsure but nothing wanting to consider the worst just yet. The Blackbird nodded, then looked at Nestlee. "I'll start gathering food and material to make camp. You see if you can spot anyone while I do." Nestlee nodded, then watched as the Blackbird walked into the jungle and began gathering coconut, ferns, and fallen trees to make them a shelter. As the hours passed, Nestlee saw nothing, however, shortly after the Blackbird returned, the witch, who'd helped them, washed ashore.
The Blackbird ran across the sand to assist her. She was exhausted and extremely weak from battling the waves. As the setting sun went down, Nestlee and the witch rested by the campfire, while the Blackbird stood guard, wielding his cast-iron gauntlets he'd found amongst the wreckage of their ship. Once the sun was fully down, the jungle became alive with the sounds of savages. As the Witch and the Pioneer watched, the Blackbird smalled the gauntlets together and marched towards an approaching group of cannibals. The former slave was a nightmare the cannibals couldn't have even dreamed of. He was fast, hit hard, and didn't seem to run out of stamina.
Each of his blows sent cannibals flying. The Witch cast her healing magic on him and Nestlee fired his flintlock pistol at them, attempting to help the Blackbird. However, it wasn't as if he needed it. By the time the remaining savages had fled, the cast-iron gauntlets dripped with crimson blood that stained the sand below them. As the Blackbird returned to the ship wreckage, his breathing was labored, his broad shoulders rose and fell with every breath, but there wasn't a scratch on him. The Witch nodded her head. "Seems you managed to drive them off, single-handedly, for now.
The Blackbird laughed. "If that impresses you, should've seen the morons who attcked the kingdom a few years back." His laughter made Nestlee smile. "They didn't stand a chance, even if both a deity and a devil had blessed them..."