A tale of the final day's of POTCO...
A fan-fiction i'm writing about the "end of the world" or potco's closing, as if it were the end of the world for the characters in game. please note this is a work of pure fiction, the characters in this story may not be completely accurate to the original, if you have any issue feel free to mention them.
- Kwagar Ocata
- Sir Joseph Grey
- Blake Stewart
- Sven Daggersteel
- Phillipe Clemente
- Jorge Clemente
- Mark Ironskull
- Jolly Roger
- El Patron
- and many more to come (request in comments)
Chapter I: The Beginning of the End
It began with fire and death...
In a great city of the Caribbean, the like of which you would not see these days.
Raven's Cove was a great hub of commerce, trade, and peace, it's inhabitants happy and full of joy. It's ports full of ships from the great nations of Europe, Britain, France, Spain, Holland. It's wealth was more than that of the great ports of Port Royal or Nassau.
The reason for this wealth was where the city sat. At the gates of the greatest mines in all the New World. The mines of Raven's Cove were rich in precious stones and metals, and thousands of workers toiled in the deep caverns in search of the treasures of the ground.
Such was the wealth of the mines that even the great Eldar King, Venables and the Dark Overlord Kwagar paid their respects to the miners.
Their greed though, overcame them, and they began to delve deeper and deeper into the rock...
And that was where they found it. The greatest hoard known to man. El Patron's Lost Weapon Hoard.
Weapons of great craftmanship and beauty, but hiding a sinister and devilish curse upon them.
The greed of the miners was too great and they hoarded the weapons, barricading themselves inside the mines and killing any who entered.... But others were drawn to the mines.... for the legend of the weapons had spread far and wide, and many evil masters heard of the power of the weapons.
It began as though a great fog had spread across the city, it was thick with decay and death, and people recoiled in horror at it's very touch. The Day of Death had come.
Jolly Roger, a spawn of Satan and ruler of the undead hordes, had lusted after these weapons, claiming they we're rightfully his. He sent legions of undead into the city, killing any who stood in their path, be they friend or foe. The blood ran like rivers in the streets and the city burnt in the night.
The survivor's hope seemed lost, when suddenly a great stirring came from the docks and hundreds of East India Trading Company soldiers came pouring into the streets and attacked the undead.
The people thought they we're saved, but then they to fell to the swords of the EITC Black Guards. Children screamed in the streets and we're mercilessly cut down where they stood, none stood in the path of the EITC, the city burned.
Venables, King of the Eldar arrived to the battle and looked upon the horrors before him. But he would not risk the lives of his men in such chaos and bloodshed, he turned his back on Raven's Cove and return to his realm.
No help came from the Eldar, or any day since.
So much death was dealt that day, so many innocents wiped out. But the EITC and the Undead cared not for this city. Their eyes looked to the mines....
To be continued...