My name is Thomas Rook. Tom, or Rook, if you prefer.

I was born in the brothel district of Tortuga.

My mother was a prostitute who never knew, or never revealed, which pirate fathered me.

I grew up among taverns, docks, gambling halls, and wharves rather than in a proper home.

My childhood was spent shining boots, carrying water, cleaning fish, running errands, and stealing only when hunger demanded it.

By eight years old, I could tie most common sailing knots.

By nine, I climbed rooftops and dock rigging faster than grown men.

At ten years old, I signed aboard The Mourning Star as a cabin boy after impressing the captain with my climbing ability.

I spent years hauling water, scrubbing decks, repairing sails, carrying powder, and learning every inch of the ship.

I survived storms, battles, disease, and hard discipline that claimed many young sailors.

At seventeen, I signed the Articles as an ordinary sailor.

At twenty, I earned a full share of prize money through skill and loyalty rather than favoritism.

I have never known another home besides The Mourning Star.