Well there is a first time for everything and it was bound to happen. I have completed some of the worst games out there but have not retired one yet until now. Something about the unbelievably boring sequence of jumping over and over in an absolutely dull game space that offers little story or direction just had me more frustrated than entertained.

Life is just too short to waste (too) much time stuck on a shitty game. SO I decided to retire the game, unbeaten it returns to its case and is put back on the shelf. But I’ve decided with retired games there should be one caveat. I MUST finish the story myself as to not cheat my (three) readers out of a just and satisfying conclusion.

So I present to you, Buffalo Retro Presents: Pirates: Legend of the Black Buccaneer.

Year Released: 2006

Developer: Wide Screen Games

Publisher: Valcon Games

System(s): PlayStation 2 / Windows / Xbox

Type of Third Person Game: Action/Adventure

Point of game: After a shipwreck you find yourself stranded on a cursed island. There is a boat there but it needs repairs. So you loot the island of ship parts and treasure.

Other notes:

For a more detailed beat down of this game click here

The game has little to do with being an actual pirate.

Starts off in: Le Borgne Isle. A cursed island with hidden treasures. Supposedly.

Ends up in: We’ll never know. I never finished it.

The story so far: In the actual game, you are a pirate named, Francis Blade (🙄) who is the sole survivor after a shipwreck. He ends up on La Borgne’s isle – a deadly and cursed isle rumored to have treasure and loot protected by La Borgne and he army of escaped slaves.

While exploring said island you run into, Vanilla De La Cruz (literally her name in the game, I can’t make that up). She is the daughter of the lost captain Dominic De La Cruz and is searching for him. Then she takes off and I never found her again. So we’ll pick up where the game left off. I hope you enjoy.

BUFFALO RERO Rewrites: Pirates: Legend of the Black Buccaneer.

My name is Francis and my life is coming to a close. My cutlass blade dulled and my Musketoon hungry – with only one round left loaded in the chamber. Quietly aware that it lies in wait for my head. Until then however, I await for the terrified encouragement of another wave of monkey attacks towards me. Personally, I’d rather have a say in which way my body is brutalized.

God give me that much, at least.

For days I have sat in the belly of this shipwreck on the shore battered and bruised from aggressive wildlife and other privateers whose eyes glow a color I’ve never seen before. Something otherworldly. I have barricaded myself in with sea salty wood planks, and other remnants of the ship wreck that propelled me to this godforsaken land.

I think of the woman for a moment. We only met briefly. The only living thing on this island that hadn’t tried to kill me, yet. I hope she is faring better than I. Vanilla is a stupid name. But I reason she’s a good woman. One that will be able to hold her own. Much better than I have. . The one who could only jump around and occasionally slice my adversaries. Just another fool turned decayed rotting flesh left for the flies soon enough.

Dear god.. I think I hear something coming.

Vanilla De La Cruz was kneeling above her father’s remains for what could have been hours when she was awoken from her trance by a gunshot about half a mile away. “Must be the boy” she said aloud to herself. He was young and fit but inexperienced and couldn’t keep his composure. She had watched him from the depths of the jungle. Jumping from platform to platform, rock to rock, falling down clumsily and yelling obscenities.

Vanilla didn’t come to the island to rescue her father. Far from it – he was bound to die here one way or the other. The problem Vanilla was currently facing was sure the old pig died, but not by her hands. She had been robbed of revenge.

All of the years of abuse, philandering and womanizing. Her mother, Ophelia watched quietly as her husband, the exalted Captain Dominic De La Cruz rose through the ranks of the Spanish Armada and seemingly with each rank he achieved a new mistress arose. Quietly forgotten in Cuenca, Ophelia died of a broken heart before Vanilla had turned seventeen.

She had been training to take her father’s life since and this island and it’s matron had taken that from her.

She hears the sound of rock sliding across rock behind her and faint footsteps.

“Heartbreak cannot rise the dead.” The phantom voice behind her declares.

“But heartbreak can lie the living.” Vanilla replies coldly, unmoved.

The phantom woman behind her continues, “The only reason you’re not dead yet it because you came to this island with a different motivation than sheer greed but even now I’m not so sure. He’s dead, De La Cruz. Take solace in that fact, close the book and walk away with your life intact.”

Vanilla stands and turns around to face, Le borgne. Her bare feet float above the sandy surface, but her long granite blade erect on the stone underneath. She is in exquisite shape underneath her traditional blood soaked Karbala dress and wrap. Her eyes a shocking green. Behind her stands an army of at least one hundred glowing eyed buccaneers. Over off by himself a smoking man, hunched over a typewriter is in a Buffalo bills shirt and baggy shorts.

“You” Le Borgne yells to the man pointing her sword at him.

He does a quick double take and points at himself in question.

“Don’t you know you should only write what you know!?”

The man hesitantly stands from his chair and pushes up his glasses. He clears his throat above the blue birds above in the bush chirping and tweeting. “Well, actually Ms. Le Borgne – I don’t really agr..”

“Kill him!” She demands her army of undead to descend upon the writer.

“Agh damn it! No!” He yells as he is surrounded and stabbed by hundreds of Pirates.

“Now.. where we’re we?” Le Borgne turns back to Vanilla.

Vanilla in a fighting stance with her blade drawn stares unflinchingly at Le Borgne.

“I will make you a proposition. Slavery comes in many forms and sometimes the most unjust masters are ourselves. I see this in you. You serve only your thirst for vengeance but never yourself. I, too, do the same. But I don’t want to see you suffer like I do. I can help you break this cycle if you let me.”

Vanilla lowers her head. She thinks of the past six years scouring both land and sea for revenge. Seeing not the world around her but only the frustration it filled her with. Then she thinks of her mother. Alone, defeated and resigned. Killing her father wouldn’t change that and neither would fighting Le Borgne wouldn’t change that. in a battle she most certainly would lose. She drops her sword and falls to her knees letting out a cathartic scream into the depths of the jungle. She screams again even louder. Pounding away at the ground. Screaming and punching until she rolls over on to her side out of breath tears rolling down her face.

The army of the dead and Le Borgne are no longer with her. Some time has passed as the jungle depths have darkened the lowering sun. She stands up and grabs her sword. Making her way back to shore she enters her own small ship she used to follow her father here in the first place. She can see the wreck of Francis’ ship as she sets off. Looking back it is overrun with apes and the army of dead soldiers eerily staring back at her. She turns to face the setting sun feeling the cool ocean breeze on her back. She smiles.

This was a reimagined version of the game Pirates: Legend of the Black Buccaneer.

I hope you enjoyed it. If not well that’s like six minutes you’ll never get back. So .. sorry I guess.

Don’t sue me Wide Screen Games! But if you’re not too mad please hire me. 😂

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