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As night fell on Port Royal, the fog grew thicker, blanketing the streets, houses, and harbor in an eerie mist. People rushed home to the warmth of their hearths while in the taverns that lined the streets, men sat at wooden tables, warming themselves with ale and idle chat. Sitting high atop the cliff, Fort Charles was left untouched by the fog. It stood watch over the shrouded and still town.
But out on the water, something moved.
The shape of a ship grew clearer as it cut through the fog and entered the harbor. From its masts flew tattered black sails, and the ship itself seemed to be made of shadow. No sound came from its decks as it grew ever closer to the town. Suddenly, the fog thinned, and from the topmast, a single black flag could be seen flying. As it snapped back and forth in the wind, a skull and crossbones became visible… a sinister smile on its bony face…
Meanwhile, sitting in a jail cell in Fort Charles, Captain Jack Sparrow leaned against the prison's rock wall, his hat pulled low over his eyes. The fog that had covered the town below was of no consequence to the pirate. At the moment, he was too distracted by the thought of his hanging in the morning and the hapless prisoners in the cell beside him.
The prisoners were crouched down and pressed against the bars of their cell, intent on one thing—escape. One of them held an old bone through the bars, waving it in front of a mangy dog that held a ring of keys in its mouth, while another held out a rope to the mutt. If they could get the dog over to the cell, they would have the keys, and a way out. Slowly, Jack lifted his head. "You can keep doing that forever," he said wisely. "That dog's never going to move."
"Excuse us if we ain't resigned ourselves to the gallows just yet," one of the men retorted.
Jack smiled, one corner of his mouth lifting to reveal his gold teeth. Then he lowered his head and once again slipped into silence. It looked like he and his fellow prisoners had but one fate—the gallows.
Back in the governor's mansion, Elizabeth Swann shivered in her bed. The eerie fog had crept into her chamber, making sleep impossible. Holding an unread book open in front of her, Elizabeth allowed Estrella to place a bed warmer at her feet.
"There you go, miss. It was a difficult day for you, I'm sure," the woman said gently, patting the sheets down and making sure the heat was not too much.
"I suspected Commodore Norrington would propose," Elizabeth said with a sigh. "But I was still not entirely prepared for it." Her thoughts drifted back to the moment at Fort Charles and Norrington's stammering request. Could he truly imagine they would make a good match ? What of love? Surely the commodore could not be in love with her—they were very different types of people. "He's a fine man," Elizabeth continued. "The sort any woman should dream of marrying."
Estrella raised her eyebrows and leaned closer, as if about to share an important secret. "That Will Turner… he's a fine man," she said softly.
From the bed, Elizabeth looked up sharply. Will Turner. Just the mention of his name sent color rushing to her cheeks. The way he had treated her earlier in the day, and for Estrella to imply… it was too much. With a sharp word, she sent the maid from the room and picked up her book. To be lost in words would be a lovely distraction. But she could not focus. The words on the page blurred. Absently her hand went to her neck, toying with the Medallion that still hung there.
Suddenly, the flame of the lamp beside her bed flickered and then lowered. Reaching over, Elizabeth tried to turn it back up. But it wouldn't work and the next moment, the light went out completely—pitching the room into darkness.
Inside the blacksmith's shop, Will Turner was hard at work, hammering out a piece of iron. With every hit, he tried to erase the events of the day. The morning at Governor Swann's, Elizabeth's fall, and then the run-in with that wily pirate. But it was no use. Pausing to catch his breath, Will walked over to one of the forge's windows and looked out. But he could not see far. Fog covered the streets, buildings, and signs. Will felt a shiver down his spine and had a strange feeling, like he was being watched. Reaching up, he pulled an ax off the wall and walked outside. As he looked up and down the alley, he almost expected someone to walk out of the shadows. But other than a lone cat that ran past, he was alone…
Commodore Norrington and Governor Swann walked along the parapet that surrounded Fort Charles. On one side was the Caribbean, and on the other a courtyard, from which the shadow of the gallows could be made out. The two men were lost in thought as they paced, their hands behind their backs.
"Has my daughter given you an answer yet?" the governor asked, breaking the silence.
"No," Norrington answered. "She hasn't."
Suddenly, the stillness of the night was shattered by a loud boom, and the dark sky lit up. "Cannon fire!" Norrington shouted as the two men were sent flying. When the dust settled, they glanced at each other in panic. Who was attacking them? Who had arrived in Port Royal?
Inside the prison, the explosions rocked the cells. Leaping up, Jack rushed to the small barred window and looked out into the dark. A smile formed at the corners of his mouth as explosions lit up the night sky.
"I know those guns!" he shouted happily. "It's the Pearl ."
Beside him, the prisoners' faces grew pale. The Black Pearl ? They had heard the stories of the dreaded ship. For over ten years she had sailed the waters of the Caribbean, preying on towns and vessels. Without warning, she would appear out of the night and attack, leaving nothing but chaos and destruction in her path. Walking over to the bars that separated their cell from Jack, the prisoners looked closely at the pirate. Jack stood with his face eagerly pressed against the window bars, a gleam in his eye.
"I've heard she never leaves any survivors," one of the other prisoners stammered.
"No survivors?" Jack said with a smile as another explosion rocked the prison. "Then where do the stories come from, I wonder?"
The Black Pearl moved steadily closer, its cannons blasting. Down at the docks, sailors ran for cover as the ground beneath their feet exploded, sending wood and dirt flying into the sky. Within moments, the Black Pearl had all but destroyed the docks of Port Royal. Even the fog seemed to be blasted away under the pirate ship's assault. Men, women, and children ran screaming through the streets in search of safety.
With lightning speed, the crew of the Black Pearl dropped the longboats into the choppy water and rowed ashore. Carrying torches, swords, and guns, they swarmed the beach. Their clothes were torn and faded, and their faces were creased with dirt. Two of the pirates stopped for a moment and looked around. They made an odd pair—Ragetti was tall and skinny with a mop of dirty blond hair, while Pintel was short and squat, his head bald except at the sides where patches of long, straggly gray hair hung down. As they took in the chaotic scene, they both smiled, revealing two sets of very dirty teeth. Holding out a wooden eye, Ragetti spit on it and then rubbed it clean before placing it in his empty eye socket. Then, with a nod, they took off, following the rest of the Black Pearl 's crew into Port Royal.
Inside the blacksmith's forge, Will Turner listened as the sound of the attack got closer. Glass shattered as pirates threw explosives into random windows and gunshots rang out from every direction. Will quickly began to gather weapons. His fingers closed around an ax which he placed in his belt before grabbing a sword from the table. Fully armed, he ran outside.
A young woman ran past, chased by a maniacal pirate. Her sharp screams cut the deafening noise of the attack. Acting quickly, Will reached for his belt, pulled the ax out, and sent it sailing through the air—straight into the back of the pirate. The man fell where he was, his laugh silenced. Will retrieved his ax and ran off, the blade of his sword flashing.