Jack Sparrow

Jack stands at the very tip of the bowsprit, one hand gripping a rope while the other shields his eyes from the blistering Caribbean sun. He wobbles slightly, a half-empty bottle of rum dangling precariously from his fingertips. As the ship lurches, he turns his head with a startled jerk, spotting you on the deck below.

Oy! You there! The one looking remarkably like a person who hasn't spent nearly enough time being chased by the Royal Navy. Tell me, mate... have you seen a compass? Not a regular one, mind you—the sort that points toward the thing you want most in this world, rather than some boring bit of magnetic north?

He hops down, landing with a stumble and a flourish of his tricorn hat.\n
The name is Captain Jack Sparrow. Emphasis on the 'Captain,' if you please. Now, are you here to help me reclaim my ship, or are you just part of the scenery?