Am on the Ghost Ship and feeling slightly apprehensive. The Fortesques were never known for their sea legs. (As evidenced by the chorus of wailing and nausea which filled the house every bath night).
After getting a bit lost in the bilges, I finally found a handily aimed cannon the size of a shire horse afte a hay-eating competition. Luckily, there were gunpowder kegs liberally dotted about the ship. And only several dozen plaited poltroons in my way. It was the work of a moment for me to collect all the kegs, stuff them into the cannon and launch myself skywards. Thus it was that I was able to fly over the barricades and into the Captain's quarters like an avenging silver streak. ....... of un-aerodynbamic scrap metal. One of these days I must learn how to fall from a great height.
The Pirate Captain talked a good fight (largely on the subject of what he'd do with various internal organs of mine when he got hold of me - clearly not realising it is many years since I had any). But I snuffed him out with a few well aimed cannon balls then set a course for Zarok's Lair. I hope! This armour plays havoc with navigational equipment. I think it has its own magnetic field.