X. Pirates, Cannons, and the Wet Screaming of Global TradeURL copied
While painters were busy inventing tasteful thighs, sailors were inventing chaos on a planetary scale.
Ships stitched oceans together with spice, silver, disease, gossip, and endless opportunities for catastrophic weather.
Pirates appeared because every age eventually produces freelancers with swords.
The sea was full of rockets before rockets, meaning loud barrels of fire launched from cannons by men with no hearing left.
A pirate captain's job description included theft, navigation, charisma, and keeping several idiots from accidentally setting the deck on fire.
Mapmakers added dragons to the unknown parts because "we have no clue" apparently needed decoration.
Empires grew fat on trade while sailors got scurvy and emotional damage.
Ports became global mashups of language, rumor, song, and at least one person trying to sell you a monkey.
One generation chased gold.
The next generation chased the first generation and charged customs.
DEPICTED HERE: ADMIRAL WHISKERBEARD DOING A HIGH-SEAS YOINK OF THREE BARRELS OF SPICES AND ONE VERY CONFUSED PARROT