Prologue Pleasures of a Deadman
- UNKNOWN LOCATION -
The crew was in high spirits after capturing another of the Empire's mining camps. He understood their glee since these camps held not only abundant resources but also high-value treasures.
Some mines were known to hold entryways that led to dungeons, and dungeons on all accounts held the greatest boon for people like him.
"Strip the armor from their bodies!" He roared as he slashed the throat of the last of the Empire's dogs.
"Yes, captain!" One of his men bellowed in response.
The men he had left Sigul with still called him a Captain, even though they were hundreds of miles away from the seas and no longer had a ship.
The so-called Captain grinned his approval then he wiped the blood from his curved dagger. It was ridiculous how the Empire had left such a rich mine in the outskirts of Moriandia so under-guarded.
When the Captain had first decided to launch an attack on the camp, his crew had shown their disapproval with murmurs and lusterless emotions. However, he would not have any of it, so to reassert his dominance he called out any who opposed him and challenged them to a duel to decide who would lead the shipless crew.
Fortunately, none of his men had dared to show any spine but to reconcile their loyalty to him, a new plan was formulated to replace the foolishly brazen one.
This time the crew launched a surprise attack as one group led by the Captain charged from the front, and the second group was led by Fere the vice-captain, his group would scale up the hill then jump in the fray and attack the defending guards from the rear.
Even though the surprise attack had worked, he had expected a lot more resistance from the Imperial soldiers.
The site of the mine was suspicious enough, he could not let the elation of victory cloud his judgment, and he had to remain cautious moving forward.
Gardary lit a torch from one of the fires and then ventured deeper into the mine's womb.
The first part of the mine looked like mortals had frequently occupied it, it appeared well-maintained and the mineshafts seemed to have been barely dug into.
This meant that only the path had been carved through the first few layers of the mine and whatever treasure lay below, had barely been touched.
"Free treasure! A pirate's dream!"
The Captain walked into one of the chambers and smirked to himself as more glee from his easy win flooded his mind, their raid had been too easy that it was almost unfunny.
"Tch. The Royal Army has got nothing on me, Gardary Captain of the RockWater." He chattered.
As he walked further he noticed that the banners that held the Empire's sigil on them had been stripped down from the walls, the flags appeared worn out, and from the looks of it, the inner chambers seemed to have been abandoned quite a while ago.
'is that why these shafts look so untouched?'
"Probably just turncoats... No wonder they were easy to beat, men like them prefer to stab you in the back or cut your throat while you slept and dreamt of wet thighs." Gardary murmured, but his decision was firm, he was not leaving this place without his treasure.
Captain Gardary remained adamant about his overwhelming victory, and nothing would ruin his much-needed success.
Strings of defeats and failed plunderings had sent his reputation and his ship to the bottom of the sea, and the crew had nearly abandoned him but had remained out of sheer respect.
He rubbed his throat and recalled how other captains had met their ends.
"Captain!" Gardary nearly tripped. He immediately turned around angrily and smacked the man's face.
"Lower your voice fool! Are you trying to bury us down here?!" Gardary growled at the crewman.
The man looked apologetic, but he still gave Gardary a look like he was saying; 'Then why the hell are you doing it?' Far from his qualms, he had more important woes to convey to his captain.
"What is it? Are you done packing the armor?" Gardary asked with a mellower tone to his voice. "You know they will fetch a good price back in the black markets of Sigul right?"
This was but one of the few reasons he wanted to leave this place, it was starting to dawn on Gardary that there was something more happening in this mine than meets the eye.
Their bounty was starting to draw more questions as they found out more about it.
"Yes, but there is a problem." The crewmate stepped back out of the captain's reach, and after assuming it was safe he continued. "Those bodies captain, they're not normal... even the men are starting to whisper, and I fear some might desert your crew."
"What's wrong with the bodies?" Gardary asked the crewmate curiously, taking a small step towards him.
Earlier the men appeared fine, even wimps like Fere were holding their own. With these thoughts in mind, Gardary was starting to wonder what had made these turn cloaks make his men squirm in fear, even after their deaths.
"They have bite marks, like that from..." He turned his head from one side to the other as though checking to make sure there was no one listening. "Emoirans..."
A stern gaze followed a second after the crewmate's absurd comment, but before the man could retract his words a large palm immediately smashed into the crewman's face and then slammed his head into the wall behind him, blood spurted on the wall and dripped to the ground.
"Captain..." The crewman wheezed from behind Gardary's palm as he tried to draw breath.
"You are lucky I'm in a good mood." Gardary let go and then told him to lead him to the bodies.
It had been too easy, the ambush, the slaughter, and the booty. Gardary lamented how the booty was within reach, but now fables told by grannies drunk on age and smoke would have him lose control of his crew.
'Unacceptable!'
Gardary followed his crewmate, he had to go and witness these claims with his own eyes and see whether what the men uttered had some truth to it.
Looting mines was what bandits were equipped to do, and pirates were more skilled out in the open sea, it would be unwise to contend with unknown forces even if they were just folklore.
After all, not many people were knowledgeable about the races that roamed this world before the first mortals landed on its shores, the historic texts left by their honored ancestors speak of the continent of Morland being dominated once by a highly intelligent race of immortals, the last descendants of the Titans.
The Emoirans.
'I suppose not all of it is fantasy, some demi-humans do resemble those creatures.' Gardary pondered nervously.
After losing their vessel at sea, Gardary and his crew had mixed ideas on how to go about their days.
A part of his men wanted to change to marauding on land like regular bandits, while others wished to return to the sea even if it meant risking their lives once more.
Gardary had the same idea, but after finding this mine, he realized that making shelter here would be much more profitable than returning to sea, however, it would be unwise to settle in a dragon's lair.
'Tch. Superstitions, that's what they are!'
In recent times, many pirates have talked about encountering wyrms and sea monsters, but in all of Gardary's experiences as a pirate out at sea, he had yet to encounter any of the recorded mythical creatures.
'Delusions, that's what they were!'
Gardary mused how pirates these days had become good at sputtering tall tales to make their adventures at sea seem much more interesting than they truly were. It was unfortunate that his pirating career had sunk to the bottom of the seas of Sigul because a small part of him wished he could have had an encounter.
It would have made a special tale to talk about on rare occasions, perhaps even ballads would have been sung about him.
Moments later the two found their way back to where the rest of the crew had gathered and found that the men were still arguing.
Standing between them was a pile of corpses and dismembered limbs, drops of blood trickled from the severed flesh and soaked the ground beneath it.
The very sight of it was revolting to look at let alone to stand next to, the putrid mound of bodies would leave any ordinary man scarred for life, but no one in the Rockwater crew was normal, they were all a bunch of misfits from various criminal backgrounds.
As they approached Gardary noticed that the crew had been divided, and between them, the cannibalistic imp stood in the center of the ruckus.
"Noooooooo, ooooh!!" The one to let out that shrill was Siuliu the Flesh-Eater.
A misfit even among his kind, Siuliu was a hobgoblin with a dwarvish background, Gardary had found the little imp during his early days as a Captain.
The crew had a smuggling job down in Rasoc, but they needed someone small who was great at moving through tight spaces. The underground communities in the area had recommended Siuliu, Gardary was reluctant at first but with no one else available he had no choice.
However, after a fond experience during the job, Gardary opted not to return Siuliu but instead smuggled him out of the town together with their package.
When the men first saw the new crewmate, many of them opposed the decision of taking a cannibalistic psychopath into their midst for fear of getting nibbled at in their sleep.
On the other hand, Gardary comprehended the value of having such a unique person... or creature within their crew.
"I wonnest letts syou buuurn the meat!" Siuliu moaned as he threatened anyone who got too close with a dagger.
He had always had a hard time speaking correctly, but that did not hinder his other skills that did not require speaking out long sentences of memorized texts like one of them fancy hooded fellows that sent exploding balls of fire your way.
Siuliu was a unique rogue unlike any Gardary had witnessed. Even his combat skills have helped the crew in many village raids around Sigul.
He was considered among the top five best fighters in his crew, and his usefulness later earned him the right to sail with the crew.
"Alright shut your faces!" Gardary growled at his men.
"Siuliu, take a share of the... umm meat and have the rest of it burned! Don't go hogging all of that as if you can finish it!"
"Captaaain I caaan finishsst itss!" Siuliu moaned.
"Shut your face! Or you wonest getss any see!" Siuliu lowered his head like a scolded puppy.
As he began to cut through the bodies, Gardary immediately felt his stomach turn, it was still difficult to get used to the sight especially when you knew what he intended to do with the flesh afterward.
He turned his gaze away from Siuliu and towards the rest of his men, they had calmed down, but the major issue remained.
"Now, I keep hearing horse-shit tales of emoirans and ghouls, who brought it up?" Captain Gardary asked the group.
The men looked past Gardary, their gaze shifted towards the man that was standing behind the captain as he wiped his bloodied face on an old rag.
"Ummm it was Fere, captain." The crewman responded.
"Fere! Show your face now!" Gardary boomed, then everyone moved back a few steps.
It seems that stories of stones falling from the roofs of caves and landslides caused by loud noises had gotten the better of them.
Unfortunately, Gardary could not help but yell. After all, he had been a captain for over a decade and shouting was part of his nature, and every captain at sea had to learn to shout loud enough to give orders, lest their words were consumed by the sounds of roaring storms and crashing waves.
It was a pirate's way.
For safety's sake, Gardary lowered his voice when he called out to Fere again, but Fere was nowhere to be seen. Unlike the sea, the caves were quieter and Gardary's voice should have been heard with ease, there would be no excuse for such insolence.
'The bastard.'
Fere would have to be made an example for the rest of the crew, especially now that the fear of walking the plank no longer held meaning, these men had to be shown a new way of bidding their reverence.
"Where is that-"
A scream interrupted Gardary's impatient query, the caves gave a miniature rumble as each man looked up and readied themselves for sudden rockfall.
When the shaking stopped, Gardary looked furious, but before he could say another word, a severed head bloodied all over was dropped to his feet.
'Who would dare...? No, what would?'
"Em... Emoiran!"
One of the men screamed, but before the rest could react to what was going on, two dark figures descended from above, and in an instant Gardary's men started to drop to the ground like chaff, and none of them had even managed to draw their weapons.
It was a slaughter.
As the last of his men fell, the shadowy figures began to slowly take form.
The first one to reveal herself was a young woman, she appeared to be in her twenties as Gardary presumed, her long silver hair fell to her lower back and swayed with every motion her head made.
She donned a black dress that reached down to her ankles, and a thin black veil covered her face like the ones that the local townspeople dressed their dead at funerals.
Through the translucent veil, the young lady's bright red eyes seemed to peer right through Gardary before she smirked, even from a distance he could feel her bloodlust that was masked by her devilish beauty.
The aura radiating towards Gardary felt warm, it was a tempting feeling, but he dared not fall for it.
'She is mocking me!'
Gardary could tell they have been watched from the moment that they found this place. All the pieces were starting to come together, the weak soldiers, the easy entry, it was all a ploy to get them within striking distance.
'In... in the dark?'
This world knew ranks and those ranks brought power to those who earned them, his crew did not respect him because he was once a great captain, on the contrary, he was a terrible leader, but his strength was real.
Gardary held the highest rank among all his men and was far stronger than his second in command, but if he were to go up against his entire crew, they would have the advantage and he would lose.
'Unfortunately, their victory would be at a severe cost.' Gardary mused as his accelerated thoughts analyzed his predicament. 'In short, my strength was equivalent to the combined force of my men, and if something could overcome them this easily...'
Gardary turned to the second figure as he put his thoughts aside, and this one appeared much younger, he was a young lad and the garments he wore were like those from an aristocratic family of the sort.
His hair was straight and had a golden silver tone to it, he wore black shorts hooked with elastic straps around his tender shoulders to hold them up.
Around his torso was a black and white checkered shirt that covered his immature chest, his expression was that of a tired and bored toddler, but his eyes retained the reddish hue filled with disdain.
Gardary trembled at the malignant aura the two individuals were spewing, but even while trapped under such pressure, Gardary managed to get a hold of himself.
He immediately drew his scimitar from across his belt and then pointed it at them.
Even as he stood in front of the two monsters appearing fearless, his throat had other ideas and the only sounds he was able to muster were muffled grunts as a mighty river of sweat poured from his forehead.
"Oh look sister he wants to fight us off with his curved sword." The boy scorned and giggled at Gardary's futile attempt.
Though he was right, how could a mere mortal like him fight these monsters? They had cleaved through his men with so much ease that even a knife had a hard time cutting through butter.
"Oh, mother of the depths, and lady of the sea-"
A cold steel grip slowly latched itself around Gardary's shoulder cutting his words short, the cog in his throat that had loosed for a moment immediately began suffocating him.
"What should we do with him Xer?" The young lady asked while looking straight at Gardary.
Gardary saw her gaze line up in his direction, but he noticed that her focus was not on him. He could feel something far more sinister had crept up on him from behind without him realizing it.
'I thought there were only the two of them?'
His last thoughts rang past him as his eyes made contact with the source of his deathly fear.
'No!'
As Gardary peered into the crimson orbs staring down at him, he saw fear itself trapped deep inside them.
"Cattle..."
Those words had little meaning to Gardary, he seemed to now understand his fate.
"Cattle... killed... by him. Must punish."
The figure's words were drowned out by his drowsiness, but before he closed his eyes he could not help but wonder why it was weeping.
'Why would he weep? Was he weeping for me?'
• • •
A nightmare of blood and sharp teeth frightened him awake, his body was left soaked in sweat, and he could smell the stink from it.
He sat up and then tried to recall what had happened to him, but his head felt hazy and nothing dared come to mind. As he sat there and pondered to himself, he could feel a strange sensation in his mouth, like a change in his palate, or a craving for a new dish.
"A change of scenery usually did that to you..." He muttered unexpectedly.
He began to think deeply about what he had just said, then flashes of images whizzed by in his mind, he could see them clearly in front of his eyes, first was a group of men around him, then images of a grey ship with a whale for a figurehead.
Then the grey ship had sunk at sea and its crew washed ashore miles toward the northern part of the continent.
'Are these my memories?'
The flashbacks continued as the men trekked through the wilderness back to Sigul, the only haven for pirates and other marauders.
After days of scrounging around for odd jobs, all they could find were those that required a ship and theirs was sitting at the bottom of the sea.
A few days later one of his men had heard rumors of a mine controlled by the Empire a few miles north past the border of Sigul.
The flashes of memories blurred as the men came across the under-guarded mining site with the Empire's tattered banners.
"Is that it?" He muttered as blood trickled from one of his nostrils.
"Captain? Captain, are you awake?!" A voice suddenly called out.
'Who was that? He sounded familiar, but it was too dark to tell'
The figure shuffled around then suddenly a light shone in his direction, the individual calling out to him had lit a torch and waved it around as he approached.
"It's me, Captain, it's Fere!" Fere exclaimed as he walked towards him then slowed when he noticed his unchanged expression. "You are not mad, are you? I had to run Captain, otherwise those... those things could have killed us all."
"Things...?"
"Yes, red eyes, pointy teeth? Sound familiar?"
The 'Captain' looked keenly at Fere as though analyzing him, he could hear a loud thumping sound coming from his chest.
He noticed that Fere's heartbeat had throttled as he described these nightmarish creatures that had slaughtered everyone.
It was hard to relate to this mortal even though he was completely convinced that the person before him was the same person that he had looked up to all these years.
"Calm down, your heart might burst."
"Huh, are you alright Captain?" Fere asked with a more cautious tone, in the memories he had recalled Fere to be the coward that ran on the first sign of trouble. "You don't look like..."
"What's the matter? You look like you have seen a ghost?"
Fere dropped his torch to the ground and immediately turned tail and ran, his heartbeat thumped much louder now, he ran towards the exit and had no intention of ever coming back.
It was a bad habit he had developed over the years, it always happened when the situation got too heated for him he would run then hide. Then he would wait for everything to cool down before returning to see what he could salvage.
'Just like a truly cowardly pirate.' The thoughts resounded in Fere's mind as he ran.
As Fere lamented about his craven behavior, his pace began to slow and before long he had stopped in his tracks.
Then he stood there stooping over an old sword left by a former denizen, and when he looked down at the rusty blade he wondered how it had rusted.
"In its hilt, or the sea?" He muttered then slowly bolstered some courage before turning to face his pursuer. "You once said those words to me Captain, but even then I never thought of changing my ways."
'They were mine after all.'
Fere mused.
"You should have kept on running," Gardary replied. "You can not fake courage Fere, even the thump of your heartbeat is loud enough to bring down this whole cavern."
Unfortunately, this was true.
Fere had no right to try and stand against his former leader, this situation stank of more danger than all his past encounters combined, after all, this was the first time he had ever been this close.
'To dying.'
"I don't know who this Captain was, but I like his name and I think I will take it for myself."
• • •
Blood plastered the walls of the carven and what once was Fere in his last moments of existence, had become a paste of bile and gore. The Captain stood there, his eyes aglow with a red hue and pointy jagged teeth clenched tightly together.
An audible voice could be heard in the background of all his flaring rage, and it spoke.
'The Emoiran live on...'
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Micaol
Micaol Now let us begin ~ Oh if you made it this far, thank you. Don't worry, the next chapters won't be as long as this one!
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