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Gangplank- the Saltwater Scourge

As unpredictable as he is brutal, the self-appointed reaver king known as Gangplank rules Bilgewater through a mix of fear, violence, and cunning. Where he goes, death and ruin follow, and such is his infamy and reputation that the merest sight of his black sails on the horizon causes panic among even the hardiest crew.
Having grown rich preying upon the trade routes of the Twelve Seas, Gangplank has made himself many powerful enemies. In Ionia, he incurred the wrath of the deadly Order of Shadow after ransacking the Temple of the Jagged Knife, and it is said that the Grand General of Noxus himself has sworn to see Gangplank torn asunder after the pirate stole the Leviathan, Swain's personal warship and the pride of the Noxian fleet.
While Gangplank has incurred the wrath of many, none have yet been able to bring him to justice, despite assassins, bounty hunters, and entire armadas being sent after him. He takes grim pleasure in the ever-increasing rewards posted for his head, and makes sure to nail them to the Bounty Board in Bilgewater for all to see whenever he returns to port, his ships heavy with loot.
Despite (or because of) his notoriety and savagery, Gangplank commands absolute loyalty from his crew. Many of his trusted lieutenants have gone on to become renowned captains or brutal gang leaders in their own right. They remain loyal to Gangplank, however, and are more than willing to fight alongside him, granting him great power.
Nevertheless, there are, on occasion, those who would dare challenge Gangplank's rule. He relishes these moments, going to war with pistol and blade in order to remind everyone that Bilgewater is still his, and his alone.
The massive Noxian war captain shuddered and dropped his axe as Gangplank rammed his cutlass deep into the man's gut. Blood bubbled from the warrior's tattooed lips as he mouthed an unheard curse.
Gangplank pulled his blade free with a sneer and shoved the dying man to the deck. He collapsed in a clatter of heavy armor, his blood mingling with the seawater sloshing across the war galley's foredeck. The black-painted hull of Gangplank's ship loomed above, the two vessels locked together with boarding grapples and lines.
Gangplank's black and gold teeth gritted in suppressed pain - the Noxian had almost bested him. Nevertheless, he refused to let his crew see his weakness, forcing his lips into a wicked smile.
Wind and rain whipping at him, he turned to survey the rest of the Noxians. He'd issued a blood-challenge to the enemy captain, and now that he'd won, their will to fight evaporated.
"This ship is now mine," Gangplank roared, loud enough to be heard over the driving gale. "Does anyone else have anything to say on the matter?"
One of the Noxians, a huge warrior with blood-cult tattoos upon his face and garbed in spiked armor glared at Gangplank.
"We are sons of Noxus," he bellowed. "We would all gladly die before we let our ship be taken by the likes of you!"

Gangplank frowned, then shrugged.

"Fair enough," he said, and turned away.

Gangplank favored his crew with a vicious smile.

"Kill them all," he roared. "And burn their ship to the waterline!"