Fernando de Arcos
Fernando de Arcos always knew that power didn’t come from bravery or loyalty—it came from politics, from saying the right words at the right time, and from forging the right alliances behind closed doors. From an early age, he understood that noble and honorable men were often crushed by those who were smarter, more deceitful. And he was determined to be one of the victors.
Unlike many officers in the Spanish Navy, Fernando didn’t earn his rank through merit or battlefield prowess. He was never a brilliant strategist, never led a decisive naval victory, and was never truly respected by the sailors under his command. What elevated him was his ability to flatter his superiors, undermine his rivals through carefully placed intrigues, and stay close to those in power. Every promotion he received was the result of quiet betrayals, well-calculated favors, and empty promises.
At first glance, Fernando appeared to be the perfect example of a loyal Spanish captain, carrying out his duty with unwavering devotion. But in the shadows, he was selling information, manipulating reports, and secretly aligning himself with corsairs and pirates whenever it suited him. He saw the war between empires as a game of opportunity, where loyalty was just another currency to be traded—and he always bet on the side that offered him the highest reward.
When Blackwall rose as a threat in the Caribbean, Fernando saw a golden opportunity. Instead of fighting him as the Spanish Navy expected, he secretly approached the pirate, offering him valuable intelligence in exchange for his own safety and financial gain. He betrayed his fellow officers by revealing trade routes and fleet positions, allowing Blackwall to attack with little resistance and grow even stronger.
While his colleagues fought and died at sea, Fernando remained untouched, growing richer and more influential. He cared nothing for the cities that burned or the Spanish soldiers who fell—so long as he stayed on the winning side. To Fernando, war was just a means to climb higher, and he had no intention of dying as an honorable soldier.
He planned to live as a rich man. And, above all, he planned to keep playing both sides for as long as it remained profitable.
Unlike many officers in the Spanish Navy, Fernando didn’t earn his rank through merit or battlefield prowess. He was never a brilliant strategist, never led a decisive naval victory, and was never truly respected by the sailors under his command. What elevated him was his ability to flatter his superiors, undermine his rivals through carefully placed intrigues, and stay close to those in power. Every promotion he received was the result of quiet betrayals, well-calculated favors, and empty promises.
At first glance, Fernando appeared to be the perfect example of a loyal Spanish captain, carrying out his duty with unwavering devotion. But in the shadows, he was selling information, manipulating reports, and secretly aligning himself with corsairs and pirates whenever it suited him. He saw the war between empires as a game of opportunity, where loyalty was just another currency to be traded—and he always bet on the side that offered him the highest reward.
When Blackwall rose as a threat in the Caribbean, Fernando saw a golden opportunity. Instead of fighting him as the Spanish Navy expected, he secretly approached the pirate, offering him valuable intelligence in exchange for his own safety and financial gain. He betrayed his fellow officers by revealing trade routes and fleet positions, allowing Blackwall to attack with little resistance and grow even stronger.
While his colleagues fought and died at sea, Fernando remained untouched, growing richer and more influential. He cared nothing for the cities that burned or the Spanish soldiers who fell—so long as he stayed on the winning side. To Fernando, war was just a means to climb higher, and he had no intention of dying as an honorable soldier.
He planned to live as a rich man. And, above all, he planned to keep playing both sides for as long as it remained profitable.