Aboard the Anchor's Bane

Dread in Service

“Well I say Blackwater…” *A Scharde pirate suggests with a devilish sneer to his compatriots laying low inside a backalley on Wake Isle. All four of them look at him dubiously and one even sighs. Before the most grizzled pirate looks to the joker of their group warning him. *

" Any sod fool enough ta suggest that and think e’ll be cap’n long is just beggin’ for a bullet in the back he is." He was unwashed and scar tissue looked to have somehow melted his right ear but a bandanna looks to be wrapped over it with a few dreadlocks sliding out of it. He was missing two fingers on his left hand and most the sight of one eye and whenever he spoke he carried a warning to lesser sailors that they could someday end up as him.

The group were silent for a moment as the old salt continued. “Whoever becomes out cap’n will have their hands full. The sharkteeths will nominate another of their own, an’ ud be fools to voice an opinion during that. Any one of us would be beat to pulp or eatten alive by what he left on board so don’t get any ideas. Me vote is to push for an Ogrun Cap’n, they won’t make decisions based on their stomach or some twisted sense of primitive codes aye?” He looks to the others around him seeing only one nodding their head with his opinion.

“Ogrun aren’t smarter tho.” One of the sea dog counters with before the Old Salt sighs smacking the back of his head “That’s a blessin ya idiot!” *The rest of the group shoots that sea dog dissapointing stares looking back the Old Salt. “Best thin’ bout an Ogrun is they are dense and strong long as ye do her fuckin job, ye can just let them do whatever the fuck need to earn yer share for you.”

“Why not human though egh?” The bravest seadog suggested to his friends. Even the Old salt didn’t think it was a bad suggestion except this underlining concern looked to dot all their faces. “Well… ain’t a bad suggestion but whatever type of man has what it takes to take over Bloodwake’s ship and sail it from here before we are found by the navy is likely going to something worse than either the Sharkteeths or the Ogrun because tha’ is the only way te keep them brutes in check.”

“Indeed.” Spoke out a deep and smooth voice from the shadows as the whirring sound out machinery clattered forward with the stitched together face of Vileknot clattered into view in broad daylight with the group of the five shocked Sea Dogs. It’s mechanikal spider legs continued to stride forward in confidence, unarmed yet anxiously tapping its stunted fingers together considering new presented possibilities as it’s rotting lips smile.

“Wyrm’s Teeth! How in Toruk’s taint is an undead here?!” Shout out a bewildered sea dog as he took two steps back. The necrotech smile immediately looked to sour at him as it transfixed it’s gaze on the man stopping his musings as it was clear what needed to happen first. With a forceful outstretching of it’s palm a swirl of runes suddenly encircled it’s palm and vanished in flash as suddenly the dangerous youth dropped to his knees his flesh looking to rapid age and wither before Vileknot’s open palm turned into a slicing action with it’s index and pointer fingers as the Sea dogs husk fell to the ground lifelessly. With the horror on their faces they suddenly saw a pale green life stream out of the sunken holes in his eyes slowly like a fog until the mists coalesced into a misty skull drifting toward a small glinting soul cage adorned around it’s neck underneath it’s tatered cowl. The musing smile returned to Vileknot’s sewn together visage. “Would anyone else like to repeat his mistake”?

The other Sea Dogs looked to their Elder, the Old Salt for guidance. He was wide eyed like the rest of them but began to noticed they weren’t going to speak unless he did. With a face showing a mix of anger and nervousness he stepped closer to the Necrotech bowing which looked to please the monster. “Beggin’ yer pardon, s-sir. We’d like to be of use do you. Did you need to speak with our captain?” Vileknot tilted it’s head at the old man tilting it’s head to the side before leaning forward slightly to to examine his body carefully as he continued to speak. “Di..Did you know Captain Bloodwake died? We are currently in talks to replace him.”

“Why?” Vileknot’s takes two steps closer noticing the scar tissue coming close to elder. the smell of stale rot lingered in the air around it as it commanded the Old Salt. “Take off that cloth…I want to examine you closer." It still expected a response from him as it continued to tilt it’s head left an right trying to find something without his consent but expected no refusal in this old man.

“W-why? Why what? I don’t understand.” The old salt promptly took his bandanna as his dreadlocks looked to rain down free. The scar tissue looked to have warped the cartilage structure of his ear and some of his bone. His skin managed to heal over the wound but it was clear to the Necrotech this wasn’t caused by a fire or gunshot. Vileknot sneered having to explain himself but remained civil with the human. “Did Ore’ghoul’ not name a first mate?” The old salt froze unable to respond as the Necrotech took the liberty to trace it’s grime covered finger down the length of his wound feeling it’s texture and immediately realized the damage. Ah, you have served us before… how old is this?"

“U-ugh yes, it’s twelve years or so ago; Defiler Bonejack.” He confirmed trying to stop his shuttering as Vileknot pulled his finger away resuming his wrapping fingers. “…Ore’ghoul did have a first’mate, but Cap’n beat em to death before being killed as well by a a group of slaves being rescued by assassins or mercs… no one really knows.” Vileknot has a long and slow knowing chuckle listening to his story. It nods confirming his understanding but obviously looks lost trying to deduce the chemical make up sprayed out of a Defile’s Sludge cannon over a decade ago.

“I see, you are not up to date on current affairs; we already settled that dispute. You now serve captain Chaeffer now…” It eyes the rest of the men standing nervously in silence within the dark street. Vileknot looked to eye them like cattle for a moment as it tapped its fingers together one last time and smiled before pulling a pistol out from it’s tattered clothes and handing it to the Old Salt but making sure to address them all. “The captain only asked me to return with any crew I found… he didn’t mention intact. I am feeling generous, I’ll will be taking two back alive.” Without a delay the Old Salt shoots one of his compatriots dead in the heart with an angry look on his face pulling back the lever at the chamber loaded the next bullet. “Go ahead, pick one to live. I will need someone else to carry the remains to The Devil’s Larder other than you.”

Without a semblance of his previous emotions the Old Salt looks to the two left standing noticing it was the one of the survivors was the man who suggested they go back to Blackwater. With a scowl he shoots him in gut as he walks up pulling his cutlass from his hip chopping right into the man’s face with anger. He drops to the ground dead as the old salt hands off the blade to the survivor and looks to him with cold dead eyes. “I’ve done this once already… your turn. I’ll get a tarp you start hacking off limbs.”

Vileknot chuckles at the submissiveness of this man and with an inquisitive tone. “Tell me your name, mortal.” The old man turns to face a new officer of his ship bowing again seeing the monstrosity is still impressed with his manners." “Dileg sir, Sam Dileg.” *The Necromechanikal being nods very pleased with his conditioning and skitters close to him whispering. “I am not hear then Dileg, I am aboard the ship. You heard the news and you are providing me tribute. If you so much as hear anyone even this man speak a word otherwise to the crew… A few threads snap as he smiles widely on it’s sewn face “I trust you know what to do…”

“Aye aye sir.”

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