This story is an actual dream I had. I think it’s because I’ve been watching a YouTube channel called Time Team Classics, which is about archaeology in Britain, and also because I’ve been working on some Pirate Day pictures with Narcissus. And, of course, I had this dream a week before I got my new kitten, Pesto. So this is what my mind came up with, and I don’t mind (no pun intended) because it’s actually so cool to have dreams like these and be able to turn them into stories!
Click the pictures to see them bigger and enjoy! 😋
A Sermon of Sails and Scurvy
The library of Stormwind Cathedral glowed with candlelight, shadows flickering across stone walls lined with tomes. Rows of paladin initiates sat in silence, armor gleaming faintly, their eyes fixed upon the priest at the front.
Father Lightwell adjusted his glasses, nearly dropping them, and clapped his hands with such enthusiasm that the nearest candle almost sputtered out.
“Tonight,” he announced, voice bright and excited “we do not speak of demons, nor of the Scourge, nor of fel corruption! No, my friends — tonight we speak of pirates!” He pulled a pirate hat out of the pocket of his cloak, and it looked as if it had been bought straight from the Stormwind's wandering toymaker Craggle Wobbletop.
Several recruits blinked and failed to keep a straight face. Beneluna’s lips trembled with a suppressed smile and the she also bursted into laughter and Father Lightwell also started to laugh. She had insisted on attending; Father Lightwell’s reputation for solving mysteries and untangling secrets across Azeroth was legendary and his lectures were famous for not just with knowledge but with also the warmth the priest added....and she was also really hoping to get an autograph later.
“Do not fret,” Father Lightwell continued, pacing with a worn journal in hand, adjusting his pirate hat. “The Bloodsail Buccaneers prowl Stranglethorn’s waters, bold as sharks, eager to slit throats and steal cargo. Grain, medicine, even pilgrims bound for Stormwind — all taken, all vanished!Greed, my friends, is a shadow no less dangerous than fel-fire and unlike a wooden leg, it’s not so easily cast aside!" A few chuckles escaped before silence returned.
He waved the journal dramatically, his glasses slipping again. “Why teach this to paladins? Because when armies falter, when trade routes crumble, when widows weep for sons lost at sea, it is the Light’s servants who are called. Evil does not always smell of brimstone. Sometimes it smells of… rum and gunpowder!”
As the recruits chuckled Lightwell lowered his tone, suddenly grave.
“Remember this: the seas hide shadows deeper than any crypt. Shadows of greed, of betrayal, of blood spilled for coin. Learn of them, for the Light may one day call you to stand against them.”
With a loud thud, he shut the journal. “Class dismissed!”
The recruits rose, armor clinking, their hands clapping with enthusiasm
Rumors on the Cobblestones
It was a cool autumn evening . Beneluna’s boots echoed through Cathedral Square as she walked towards home and the streets of Stormwind bustled with busy townsfolk. Beneluna waved to the familiar guards with the hand that held a scrap of paper — It had Father Lightwell’s autograph on it. Tomorrow, she would go shopping for a frame and nail it up on her wall.
When at last she reached her home,, fatigue weighed heavy on her limbs. She set aside her gauntlets and sword, and as she did, she heard it — a faint rustling, soft as silk, from the far corner of the room.
Her hand twitched toward her blade… then dropped. Too tired. “Just the wind,” she muttered.
She lay down upon her bed and closed her eyes…
Taverns, Tides, and Treasures
The air reeked of salt and smoke, and the Salty Sailor tavern in Stranglethorn called was alive with rogues, sea raiders, and highwaymen boasting of vanished fleets and secret treasures. Laughter and clinking mugs echoed as tales of daring and betrayal filled the room.
One stormy evening, a corsair pressed a tattered map into her hand. Its ink shimmered silver, shifting like moonlight on water. The symbols were no script she knew, yet she understood them. The map pointed not to gold, but to an island beyond Jaguero Isle — a place smothered in mists, forgotten by time.
Driven by fate, she sailed across waters haunted by naga and worse. At sundown she reached the island, that seemed to be a home to a tribe of Murlocks.
She unfolded the old map, and walked slowly, counting her steps and checking the map again and again.
She turned east, as the map showed, and followed a narrow trail until she reached a what seemed to to be a rock shaped like a skull.From there, she walked straight ahead until the path ended in a small clearing. In the center of the clearing was the X-mark.
She hit her shovel into the sandy ground and began to dig. The earth was heavy, but she did not stop. At last her shovel struck something hard. With faster movements she cleared the dirt until a chest appeared, its lid marked with a glowing sigil. She touched it, and the chest opened with a sigh.
Light spilled forth, not golden like the Light she knew, but silver and cold, like moonfire. When her vision cleared, two small figures sat upon the altar. Black cats, their fur glimmering as though dusted with stars. Their eyes very curious and, to Pirate Beneluna, they looked absolutely adorable.
Suddenly, one of the cats batted at a floating silver orb, sending it spinning through the air. The other leapt to chase it, and their tiny paws tumbled over each other as they pounced and rolled around. A chorus of soft mews filled the air, high and insistent, echoing off the cold stone. Beneluna awoke her heart pounding.
A Pirate’s Awakening
Then she heard it again — the soft rustling she had ignored before followed by demanding meow. Slowly, she turned.
Two black cats stared at her, one clearly a kitten and the other older. They had probably followed her home and decided to stay. Beneluna smiled and went to the kitchen to fill two bowls — one with water, the other with the tuna stew she had made earlier that day. The cats ate happily, and Beneluna watched them with a happy expression on her face; she had wanted her own pets for so long, and now these treasures had appeared before her. When the cats finished , Beneluna yawned, got up, and walked to her bedroom, rubbing her sleepy eyes. The cats jumped up beside her without hesitation, and soon they were all asleep under the warm blanket.
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