The ship swayed in the wind, idle waves slapping against the hull as a dock bell rang out through the mist, alerting the smaller vessels where to go as they pulled into port. The town bustled with activity as always, people hauling crate and barrel up and down the ramps to and from the ships, dock foreman with their books and notes overseeing all the incoming and outgoing goods to ensure the taxes and trade was fair and accounted for. A Vulukaian man in a gray and red-orange cape pointing up the ramp of his own small ship. “Bring up the pace, lads! The sooner we’re with this shipment to Valendale, the sooner we’re to be paid and begin taking on some of the work offered in their ports!” Markoraselious, a young yet experienced sailor bellowed to his crew on behalf of his captain who was yet to arrive for his routine inspection prior to cast-off. Due to the variety of exports Valendale already offered, it was very difficult to find work hauling anything to them rather than bringing it out. Fortunately, Aevon had a specialty in their cloth and animal hide exports which Valendale did not. Mark’s captain finally put together a proper stock of cloth and hide by which to make his way to Valendale without needing to finance a trade-less voyage. With winter setting in, the clothing and hide would be a perfect need in the ports North. “Captain’s taking his time about it today…” Mark thought to himself before his thoughts were interrupted by a firm hand on his shoulder. Turning to meet his father’s gaze, Mark smiled and nodded in greeting before turning to his mother to give her a kiss on the cheek. “We’re so proud of you going to the big city like this! You’re going to do so well for yourself and your future family!” His father congratulated him. “Do NOT forget to write and let us know how you’re doing! And if you so much as even hint at getting a fever in that warmer climate, you sail right home to the cool and mist!” His mother said, expressing her worries for him, but after a moment she softened and smiled. “And always remember how much we love you.” She added on.
The carriage reigns smacked against the leather harness over the horses, the captain was finally on his way. Mark gave his mother one last kiss and a firm handshake to his father before making his way back up the ramp and to the ship as he blew his whistle to have the crew make ready and fall into their formation. The entire dock stood silent and Mark’s parents stepped aside to wait for the Captain to pass. It took a few moments as the carriage driver stepped down to open the door. But as he did, something happened. The door was thrown open and multiple figures climbed out, masked and cloaked in dark jackets as they drew their swords! Muskets fired off as smoke began rising from the town from behind the carriage! People ducked and ran and covered, trying to escape as a sudden onslaught of undead and cloaked dark figures began slaughtering all in sight! They were hiding in the very crowd, it was chaos. With his instinctual reaction to protect his men, Mark began ordering the cast off on the spot as he made his way for the side, trying to see where his parents had gone. “Mah! Pah!” He cried, firing his own pistol into an undead as it tried to race up the ramp. Seeing his parents, he grabbed the amp to keep it from falling as the ship began to move. “Get to the ship!” He cried out as they raced to meet him! His father pushed his mother forward just in time as a decrepit sword pierced through his shoulders, the dark rot like formations growing from the hole the sword pierced. His mother stumbled and fell to her knees from the push, only to be plucked up by a few of the dark creatures and be stabbed by them over and over again in her stomach. Her cries echoed through Mark’s ears as he watched her blood splatter to the docks. In shock, the ramp slid from his hands and the ship pulled out of reach as the horde overran all he could see. Fire and screaming with pillars of smoke and the slashing of metal blades rang out into the misty air. As Mark brought himself to his feet, he gazed back and reached out to his home… The silhouette of the shores fading into the thick fog.
Breaking from his shock, Mark heard a sharp wake cresting further into the sea. Another ship! A loud splash was heard as if a portion of the water surface rose up into a pillar. The ship took no time to close the distance as some of the crew prepared to board and begin a skirmish! Mark’s careful reaction and quick thinking had him already barking the orders to prepare arms and hoist the emergency boarding muskets. In their firing line, the crew was able to knock down most of the boarding crew, falling to be crushed between the ships as the sides of their hulls collided! The few that did make it over however put up a dreadful fight! Slashing and shooting, crossing swords with the crew and ripping through who they could, their own captain even seemed confident enough to saunter across the boarding plank and strut slowly toward Mark himself. “Well well, captain! Tell me! Do you fear death?” He asked with a criminal smile and drew his sword, thrusting it toward Mark’s chest! Mark pulled his knife from his back scabbard and used it to hit the undead captain’s sword away while he drew his own! The battle went on as the firing muskets died down with not enough time to reload any and the shooting turned to sword and skirmish! A harsh clanging rang out as Mark and the undead captain’s swords slid across one another in their duel! Finally landing a lucky blow, Mark caused the captain to stumble back just enough. “Perhaps death would be a sweet release for one like you…” The undead captain said. “After all, what faster way to rejoin your family?” He continued to say, smiling as his tearing skin drew back to show even more of his teeth in an unnatural grin. “No death awaits me this day… Life by the sea!” Mark shouted, raising his sword before the whole of his crew shouted in unison to answer him “Life by the sea!” The battle cry rang out as suddenly the men seemed stoked and rallied! The undead began to fall one by one or by being thrown from the ship! The undead captain looked at the onslaught with a grimace on what was left of his face. He snarled and turned to Mark with a furious gaze before retreating to his ship and calling his men back to the decrepit ship.
Sir! We took their first mate! some of the men shouted, forcing a half decayed man to his knees on the deck before Mark. The red burning eyes of the undead officer lit up in fury as the tip of Mark’s sword touched the underside of his chin. “We have taken death! You don’t scare me, boy!” The undead man spewed the words and spat at the sword under his chin. Mark’s own red eyes narrowed as the sword lowered and he leaned down to meet the gaze of the fury infused man whose flesh and skin dripped upon the deck. “May Numariador have the mercy and notion to put you back together…” Mark whispered, his voice calm and deep. The decaying office tilted his head slightly, not grasping the notion at first. Then Mark answered his unspoken question by looking up at one of the men holding the officer to his knees and spoke the most dreadful words a man could hear at sea… “Keelhaul.” Mark said, his red eyed gaze communicating the seriousness of his order to his crew, not moving an inch despite his exhaustion and the beating of the waves against the hull of the ship below his feet. The undead officer's eyes slowly widened as the crew hesitated for only a moment before happily following the order, ready to let the ship itself take her vengeance! The voice of the officer screaming and cursing them all was only drowned out by Mark’s own thoughts as he dwelled. As the crew pulled the ropes across the undead man’s body and chained him to the weight, he began to cry out and beg for mercy! Knowing his undead body would not only be torn piece by piece by the dragging, but his cursed nature would not release him from the coming punishment through death itself. He would be torn piece by piece by the bottom of the ocean and would live to suffer through it all, scattered across the course until his cursed remains were scattered across the reach of their voyage, then to be fed upon by the sea life and the beating of the coral in the washing of the currents. The screaming lasted until the water filled his mouth and innards, flooding into him to take its place to forever silence his accursed words.
Mark stood on deck by the helmsman as the crew began restoring the ship to its proper operational standard and cleaning the undead remains Despite taking his vengeance out on the now former first mate of his new enemy… Mark was stricken with grief as the mist began to part in the warming sunrise… His parents, wearing masks and bloodied… Standing on the coast as they waved, beckoning his return. His heart broke and he froze himself, pretending to stand stalwart in case his crew glanced his way. “Make way to Valendale…” He said to the helmsman, issuing the only order he would need to worry about. Save for steeling his heart when they brought the keelhaul ropes up for what he would see then. But nothing would be brought up. The decaying first mate’s remains strewn across the bottom of the sea for the remainder of his curse… If of course the graces ever ended it at all.