He was only ten years old…easy pickings for three fifteen year olds desperate for money.
They were the usual street children one would see in Tortuga; mean looking and ready to slip a dagger between your ribs if you didn't give them a coin or two.
Their target was a young ten year old boy holding a red sash tightly to his chest as he looked around nervously for a place to sleep for the night.
He was a sickly looking thing; his skin pale and his body nothing but bones poking out. His hair was long and ragged looking, the filth caked into it hiding the golden color. His eyes were an intense shade of blue and if their hearts had not been blackened and made hard years ago, they would have walked away and left him alone after taking one glance at those eyes.
But they did not walk away; instead they walked right up to him, blocking his path on three sides easily.
Stopping dead in his tracks, Ragetti slowly looked up at the large boy standing in front of him and he whimpered softly as he clutched his mother's sash tighter, trying to step back only to find the other two boys blocking his path.
"Tha's a noice sash ye've go' there!" the leader of the group said, placing his hands on his hips.
"Et were me mum's…" Ragetti mumbled softly, looking down at the ground.
"Yeah?" the leader laughed. "Why don' ye jus' 'and et o'er ta me an' me mates?"
They wasted no time in using force and before Ragetti could brace himself properly, fists were being pounded into his face and the back of his head and he was soon down on the ground, curling up into a ball to protect the sash as they began to stomp on him.
"Leave me alone!" he wailed piteously, knowing that no one would step in to help him.
The beating stopped suddenly and his hair was gripped tightly as he was forced to lift up his head, his nose bleeding badly.
"Give us the sash!"
"No!" Ragetti growled, spitting blood into the leader's face.
They started to beat him harder then and he started to scream in agony, still refusing to let go as two fingers were stomped on and broken.
Although most of the people of Tortuga paid no mind to the beating taking place, one fifteen year old boy did and he stood and watched in slight interest, crossing his arms over his chest.
He was short and squat, his brown hair long enough to reach his shoulders. His eyes were also a dirty yellow color and his face was the kind that even his mother did not love him and so Pintel lived out in the streets of Tortuga on his own, his brute strength and ability to scare people off keeping most of the thugs off of his back.
Upon first noticing the beat down, he had been ready to shrug it off and keep moving when he suddenly saw how young the kid being robbed was and so he stopped to see what the kid would do.
To his amazement, the boy spit in his attacker's face and refused to give up his small treasure.
Arching an eyebrow, Pintel had to give the kid credit for when credit was due and as the three bullies began to stomp on him some more, he calmly rolled his shoulders and made them pop before walking over to the beat down.
The leader looked up and his front teeth and nose were promptly smashed apart by one solid punch.
He was sent flying backwards and he landed heavily on his back, unmoving.
"Do ye wan' me nex' punch?" he growled to the two stunned cronies.
In answer, they turned and fled.
"Though' so." He muttered, kneeling down next to Ragetti and resting a hand on his back.
"Ar' ye all righ', lad?" he asked.
Slowly, Ragetti struggled into a sitting up position and he looked at him almost fearfully, still holding his sash tightly.
"Ye can' 'ave me mum's sash…" he whimpered.
"I don' wan' yer mum's sash." He assured him. "Where is she anyway?"
"She were killed…" Ragetti said sadly, looking down at the ground.
Pintel mentally thought that the young boy was lucky enough not to have his parents still alive, but he decided not to tell him this as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders tenderly.
"I suppose tha' yer goin' ta be needin' 'elp livin' ou' 'ere, aye?" he asked.
Ragetti blinked and looked at him in confusion.
"I suppose I kin take care o' yer until ye kin take care o' yerself…"
He smiled at him then and slowly Ragetti returned the smile and nodded weakly.
"Me name's Lee, bu' since yer me new mate, ye kin call me Pintel."
"Aye, et's me las' name. Ye go' a problem wi' tha'?"
"Wot's yer name then?" Pintel asked, slowly helping him onto his feet.
"Mackenzie?! Tha's a girl's name!" Pintel laughed. "Wot's yer las' name then?"
"Ye askin' me or tellin' me?"
"Ragetti." He said a bit more firmly.
Smiling, Pintel laughed and nodded as he patted his back.
"Ragetti et is then!"