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When my consciousness finally returns, the world feels hazy & dull, like a heavy blanket has been draped over my shoulders, weighing me down with its invisible presence. My limbs feel heavy & sting like fire. I test them carefully. Nothing broken, but heavy restraints hold them in place. Most likely chains, but it's rather difficult to tell in complete darkness.

Without any warning, a door at the front of the room swings open & a sinister-looking man in a smart red military coat steps into the room. I squint at him as he steps in front of the blinding light shining through the open passageway. He looks familiar for some reason. "You awake, you piece of trash?" he snarls. I nod slowly, a bit surprised at the harsh tone his voice has taken on. The restraints suggest I'm in trouble of some sort, but the severity of whatever crimes I've committed remains yet to be seen. "Good." he continues, a sadistic grin spreading across his face. "Wouldn't want you to be asleep for your execution. That wouldn't be fulfilling at all." It's now definitely safe to assume that I'm in major trouble. That would mean this building is a prison of some sort. I don't remember doing anything even remotely criminal, though...Come to think of it, I can't really remember anything before waking up.

"Where am I?" I ask hoarsely. No harm in telling me my location. I'm probably going to be dead in a matter of minutes anyways. The man smiles. "Forgotten already, eh, Kenway?" he continued, a teasing tone lingering on his words. "Guess that's to be expected. We had to beat you unconscious just to get you in the cell." Kenway. That name was all it took to trigger my memory, bringing back everything that had transpired to get me here in an instant.

My name is Edward Kenway. I'm a member of the Assassins, an ancient group of warriors dedicated to protecting & bringing truth to the world from the shadows. Except I'm not a typical Assassin-while my brethren tend to operate behind-the-scenes, my exploits as a pirate(A damn good one, too) had made me as famous, if not more so, than the legendary Blackbeard. I study the man standing before me once again. No wonder he looked familiar. This asshole's a Navy captain named John Goodman. He'd made me his personal quarry after I sank half his fleet in a surprise attack. And now he'll be the one walking me to my final living destination.

I never thought that I would go out like this. Standing on a wooden platform, a noose wrapped tightly around my neck, a judge reading out a list of my crimes to a crowd of fascinated & disgusted onlookers. I always imagined myself going the way of most pirates, fighting to the death against Her Majesty's Navy. This...This is just pathetic. I glance over to several young men standing with me-some are crying, some stone-faced, and others are praying. I recognize a few of my crew members among the prisoners. Shame they had to choose the life of a pirate. Such strapping young men could've easily found work elsewhere. I guess it was the money, more than anything, that lured them in. Hell, it's what convinced me too. Now look at me.

The judge stops reading & turns to us. "Is there anything you would like to say before your death?" he bellows. Each man takes nearly 10 minutes to get through everything they feel like they need to say. Finally, the line gets down to me.

"Well?" the judge says, the weary impatience already evident in his voice. I stare out at the crowd...Then at my crew...And as the platform drops from beneath our feet, tightening the nooses around our throats, one last murmur, barely a whisper, escapes from my mouth:

"Yo-ho, yo-ho...A pirate's life for me."