12/05 Reave for Me

Maertock would lead his his first mate, his quartermaster, and blooded Andreas who had strived his hardest as a goatboy to become an accursed goatman. The captain of the Deep Company was in truth proud of the lad's growth; he'd make a dread reaver in no time all things considered.

They arrived at the very back of the caverns of the Deep, the lower depths of the caverns directly under the ocean as the distant song of leviathans in vast bodies of water echoed against the granite stone. There, a large basin sat upon a wooden shrine built from the wreckage of countless ships.

"Andreas, you have reaved for me; blooded yourself with utmost certainty and reckless endeavor to prove yourself to the depths. You have succeeded, the lord of the abyss has likely taken note of your efforts."

Maertock would dredge his clawed hands into the depths of his inky, immaterial being, removing what appeared to be a jug filled with thick, sloshing material that appeared heavy even for a master swordsman like Maertock to carry.

The density of the abyssal depths, the immense magnitude of the gravity and pressure there.

"Will you live and die by the code? To reave the civilized lands of souls to sink deep below, to fight for the freedom we hold dear even above coin and substance."

The sloshing liquid would progressively begin to pour like molasses from the jug; the murky, ichorous black ooze of the lowest part of the ocean. The demesne of the deep.

"Will you live by the crew, die by the crew, and take what you can while giving nothing back wherever you go? If so, drink deep of this basin, of still water harvested from the lowest depths of his realm. The Mori beckons."

At the mention of his bellow's name, black fog poured into the room with immense coldness and darkness, the light of the recreational sides of the cavern paradise becoming something out of a discordic nightmare.
(Maertock Reave)
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 Ah, the ritual! How long had it been since he had sold his very soul to the Deep One? Something he'd never truly regret. The Mori's plight was one that he resonated with on multiple levels.

A brother betrayed by a brother.

Family was a rather strange thing to the Task, but here in the Deep Company, he had found his true family. Not to discount his Razuka family. Misha, and Stavros would always mean the world to him, but the Deep Company?

This was his home.

"Andreas!" The First Mate would exclaim, as a hand moved towards his neck. "I've been a pretty shitty teacher. That much I'll admit." He'd state with a few rapid nods of his head, before the aforementioned hand gripped the pendant that clung to his neck carefully.

"Forgive me for that."

The Task would take a deep breath, before tugging upon the cursed amulet that adorned his neck until it was ripped from his neck. "Ow. Ow. Ow. Fuck me that hurts." He'd mutter, before shaking his head, as the amulet would be offered towards his first, and only student.

"I'm sure you'll put this to more use than me!" Nod. Nod. "Oh, and swear the oath, or I'll fucking blow your brains out! Kay? kay." With that, he'd fall silent, as he aimed to witness the goatman's induction to the crew.
(Thanatos Task)
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 Different. The short quartermaster floated along, drifting as if underwater. They came to a stop, quietly 'standing' by the large sharkman's side. A glint of crimson eyes shone behind the metal mask of their helm.

They didn't know him well. But they had made an effort to try and talk to more of the younger crewmates. He hadn't been among the few they'd gotten to speak with just yet.

Still, here they were. The very belly of the cavern where If had found the true depths of their connection with the Deep One. They would initiate another, but. It was different. They remembered an older way. Something else. And they almost felt envy for the seeming ease of this initiation.

At Maertock's side they did naught but cross their arms over their chest.

At the corners of the room reality seemed to ripple. Through their own connection the quartermaster channeled more of Mori's power to simply flow about the room. To join what already spilled into the world. They pulled at his attention, to focus it here.
(If Reave)

Andreas follows along, his suspicions absolutely answered as they delve deeper into the cavern nearby the Reef. By all means the band of pirates' intent was within their name - The Deep One. Thus, the goat-horned man slinks past the shadow of the bookcase and into the shrineroom he'd prayed to before.

The very place, even, that he'd been given a sign in.

The archer takes his own manner of respect once they reach the basin. Underneath the cloak his shadow would swiftly swallow the torchlight potion, fully intent on making sure the gaze of the Deep One could easily peer on in.

Rectangles watch as the jug is removed and, in turn, the liquid that sloshes forth into the basin. There's an easy step taken forth for the young man even with the terms he would be facing.

"Aye--" Though the lad pauses as Thanatos steps forth. A light chuckle parts from him, "Nah... Ya did well 'nuff jus' by showin' me the way. Ya got'cha legend, 'n' I'm gon' be takin' after that..." Narrowing his gaze he'd take the pendant up in his hands... Before merely placing it before his adam's apple, allowing it to stitch its way into his skin.

Of course in turn he offers up his now useless pendant! Tearing the Pendant Of Garljing from about his neck he'd merely set it beside the basin. "Gave the Mori the drinks made from 'em five wizards, but I can always give more. Ain't gon' be needin' that one 'nymore…

That 'side, I swear it upon my bein'. I'll reave 'n' drag souls down ta their depths, figh' for this freedom, live 'n' die 'side my crew no matter the cause." Shivering under the familiar, oppressive coldness he'd carefully settle both hands on either side of the basin. "'nythang for 'em 'n' the legends we're gon' be makin'."

Lest there be more he leans in to drink as much as he could from the basin.
(Andreas)
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Maertock would chuckle darkly as the caverns continued to be filled with denser and denser black fog, the Captain of the Deep Company considering for a time the goat man's future as a pirate with a sense of sanguinary joviality. He could see the lost souls sinking already.

If the goat man willed it, he'd be able to drink the entire, vast basin of the sludge. However, it tasted like nothing less than rot with the consistency of sticky, cold asphalt. It appeared to have a mind of its own, the opposite of what water should EVER BE.

"Bahahahah, welcome to the crew Andreas! Every step forward from here, we do it for our sovereign claim of freedom and riches on this southern coast. Oh right, and one little thing."

The captain would light up his cigar as minty smoke rose from the black fog in contrast; gray and black swirling and interweaving like tentacles in the air.

"What you just imbibed was the liquefied sheddings of the Deep One himself. In about a minute's time, you may feel a vast pressure in your brain as if it's about to explode. This is natural, it means that his eyes are upon you, and he's about to snatch your consciousness to the lowest abyss."

A light smile.

"Try to find a pillow, and whatever you do, do not show fear. He will devour your soul and you will cease to exist. Introduce yourself, and you will find the fatherly warmth almost comforting in its eldritch coldness."
(Maertock Reave)
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 Honestly, it takes Andreas a fair time to even begin figuring out where to place the taste. While the Carnal Aspect made most foods just taste the same, it's the rot that was more like sludge than water that tripped him up. Yet he couldn't back down from it, really.

He'd already sunk pretty fucking far just to be remembered.

Thus he drinks, and drinks, and drinks as he bites back the desire to just hurl it all up. Knitting his brow he'd imbibe what was from the depths. Once he'd gotten roughly to the end of it all he'd hack and cough away, shivering as he wiped his mouth of the remnants.

"... Well, ain't the first time I ate shit 'fore. Given the other times sorta jus'... Fell inta it..." Grumbled the goat-man, rectanglur pupils contrasting and expanding as he tried to gauge the tentacles forming nearby.

How hard was he about to get smacked?

While the initial statement of losing his soul does cause a twinge of fear, he knew damn well just how far he'd already fallen. Thus, he offers a light nod as he clambers back to rest his head against the pew behind him-- Well, he tried at least, but the pressure that'd swiftly built up in the back of his mind washed over him in a sharp wave.

Thus, Andreas falls... And falls, and falls, and falls as he feels those countless, endless collection of eyes all staring down upon him in the abyss of a dream. It felt just like the offering he'd given before yet this time he was provided audience.

Around him that darkness felt endless, ceaseless even, and that silence remained deafening under the judgemental gaze. Whirling his gaze this way and that to try and catch a glimpse of the Mori he finds nothing more than the faintest of glints from the teeth of the beast's maw.

'Learn.'

Echoing through his head to the point of ringing his own eardrums, the man eventually does stir after a fair amount of minutes had passed. Reaching outwards to grasp the nearby area he'd suck in air, those rectangular slits all the wider as he watched his surroundings attentively.

No words leave him for now, he was far too invested in breathing and nursing the mind-crushing pain in his head. At least he succeeded, right..?
(Andreas)
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Maertock would await in the darkness as he hummed a soft tune, the Captain of the Deep Company clicking his rows of serrated teeth together in ambient cheer as he glanced over Andreas. It was different for everybody in truth, imbibing the Stillwater. Some like Thanatos had chugged it and passed out. It appeared like apprentice, like teacher in this case.

After a time, where it appeared that Andreas was no longer entirely locked in the horrifying mindscape of the abyss and wasn't vomiting black sludge, the Captain would remove a bottle of rum before beginning to pour it over Andreas idly with a thoughtful nod.

Before throwing a lit match on the flammable fluid.

"Wake up! You survived. Congratulations Reaver Andreas. You have sunken your soul for a greater purpose. The good of dread retribution does not forget those who serve and reave in his name."
(Maertock Reave)
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If Reave says, "..."
If Reave says, "Pfft."
Thanatos Task says, "What the fuck."
If Reave says, "Quick way t'wake someone up."
From the frying pan and into the fire! Literally! The stench of booze was palpable enough to bring him to his senses as the lit match is dropped upon the flammable fluid. Lips press in a brief, unsurprised line as he swiftly dissipates into his own little cloud of smog.

It's at least one way to get the booze off of him.

Plopping out from his little escape and onto his rear he'd grumble, a hand soon pressing itself to his temple. "Yeh… Fuckin' one way, 'bsolutely," the Occultist hissed. Ultimately though? He couldn't help the bare trace of elation at the thought of passing.

"Either fuckin' way...- Thank ya, really." The thin traces of a smile dot his countenance, "Glad I'm gon' be sinkin' more with y'all real fuckin' soon."
(Andreas)