The Leviathan's Bones was an altered representation of a fragmented genetic memory.
We made it back to the 'Bite, skins intact. We promised the Spaniard a standard crewman's share and he was all too pleased to give up the location of his dead galleon.
As for Kenway, he seems a good lad, if a mite reckless. He may be prone to find trouble, but he seems a dab-hand at getting out of it as well.
We sail for a tiny island in the Bahamas, clear skies above and a fine wind blowing. This will be the easiest money any of us has ever made, if the Spaniard's words ring true.
Edward and three pirates met on a beach.
- Pirate 3: Spaniard says his galleon were beached along the shore.
- Kenway: Aye, best search for her bones on the rocks. I'll go on ahead, you lot stick to the shoreline.
- Pirate 3: Nothing. No gold, not even a single groat.
- Kenway: Ho! Over here. Seems our sanguine friends hauled something heavy into the bush.
- Pirate 3: Arrgh! I didn't become a sailor to do all this walking!
Edward and the pirates followed the trail and ran into the bush.
Edward and the crew of the Sea Dog's Bite located the rumored galleon the Spanish sailor had talked about, only to find that someone had already beaten them to the prize and had dragged off the ship's chest.