11/15 A Young Apprentice

Enlil stepped through with the brazen confidence of a woman well beyond her years. It was a place familiar to her brother, so a simple extension of a home to her as well. Even if she'd never met these people before, there was a casualness to her glance as if they'd been crewmates for a long time.

It was her first visit...but something was off. The girl looked left and right, a dry smile offered to those at the bar, before those olive eyes settled right upon the man behind the counter. Seconds of staring passed, nose crinkling slightly before shifting as if sniffing the air.

.. Ah..

The man at the funeral, clearly important across the country. And...

"That scent... I know what that is! Hey, Lord Death has wrapped his cloak around you, hasn't he? Hey, he's given you his love, hasn't he?"

Her voice was high pitched, excitable, leaning over to stare at Maertock.
(Enlil)
 Maertock would appear to be dressed to the nines behind the bar of his establishment; glinting arcanium plate flickering with mana beneath his audacious black and gold finery. His ancient tricorn hat sat firmly upon his head containing his flowing, midnight locks; and the dull, accursed blade of Saltspite sat sheathed by his side with an ambient pulsation of deathly eminence.

Upon the arrival of Enlil, however, the Captain would raise an eyebrow as he clicked his rows of serrated teeth together in mild confusion. It wasn't every day after all that he received such a young guest this far south. Even stranger to see them without an ounce of intimidation or fear in their heart.

Always a good start.

As she spoke, however, the Captain would hum with steady consideration. Now that was different.

"Don't you have a nose on you for dark magic little lady. You are exactly right; the cloak of death is around my shoulders in a variety ofmanners; both in the means to which I serve my own dead god; and the fell pacts I need to make with the god of death's forgotten son to bring about such chaos."

The Captain would nod steadily at that, tendrils of inky, flowing shadow spreading out from his cloak of living darkness before beginning to set down four glasses for the ensemble of youths, filling them all swiftly with apple juice for lack of better things to do.

"As far as black magic and deep sorcery goes, I'm the one stop shop of information. Whether it be channeling the depraved power of the dead god, or more recently in my ventures..."

Maertock would flick a finger to the nearby jerky on the ground.

"The natural extension of the dead god's demesne. Necroratsy. Necromancy? Necrosirency. Nailed it."


(Maertock Reave)
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 Flashing one last reassuring smile towards Mauve the swabbie's gaze settles solely on the Reave. Strange happenings weren't too uncommon within the tavern, so it's easily brushed off once the girl wanders on in to utter those phrases.

Once the apple juice is set before him he'd slide the water slightly to the left in favor of it. The glass is lifted, sipped upon, as he mulls over the captain's statements.

"Now s'the 'ole... Dead god bit that still gets me a lil. What 'appened ta 'em? Why're they providin' people with their magic, exactly, 'n'..."

There's a lengthy pause as he considers his next statement. A glance is spared towards the company of Justices. Was it right to discuss things like this in front of them..? It mattered little, an easy shrug is cast as he chimes.

"What's the 'ole bargain with 'em 'gain? Thinkin' there's gotta be a way ta 'elp 'em get what they want in exchange for more stuff from 'em."
(Andreas)
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 Wide eyes listened to the proclomations of the fierce pirate captain- they were clearly enthralling to the young girl! There were other people asking questions, however, so the teen fell silent. Even if she felt at home in her brothers' organisation, she wasn't keen to intrude.

"I don't know anything about a dead god," she would admit simply.
(Enlil)
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 Maertock would chuckle with ambient joviality as he clicked his rows of serrated teeth together, the Captain of the Deep Company offering a tip of his cursed tricorn hat with cheer as he dredged his claws into the depths of the inky darkness that manifested his entire being; withdrawing a pristine bottle of Valmasian Brandy he'd begin to sip from like a scholar in his cups.

"To draw power from the deep without understanding the story that gives it strength is like trying to stab someone without a knife. It's still possible, but it's pretty damned hard and a lot less effective. Words have power, stories have power. More then people realize."

The captain was clearly not speaking merely of fame, but of the dark knowledge in fel tomes that offered the true power over life and death. The power of the divine.

"There is no bargain, we are free reavers of the seas high and low. He watches with his thousand, thousand eyes from every shadow; one cannot so easily kill a god."

Maertock would gesture his webbed hands widely at that.

"Simply put, the dead god is Inki; one of the twin gods of the Sirenian people. The one betrayed and murdered by his brother; who's titanic body sunk deep below to the blackest depths of the abyss. There, his corpse was warped by righteous fury and black rage; and there the body found a new heart in the forgotten of Jormungandr; a divine parasite that became a deific corpse's heart."

The reaver lord of the South Coast would sip his drink at that.


(Maertock Reave)
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 Saul exclaims, "PAAAA!"
 Saul exclaims, "ME ARRRMMM!!!!"
 Maertock Reave says, "I can do surgery and teach dark arts at the same time at your own risk."
Digits roll easily along the glass of his apple juice, the farmhand's brows knitting as he leans on forth. It's exactly what he needs to hear here, honestly! There had to be some reason the Deep One hadn't lent him more of that inky black mana yet.

Once the story's a bit more expressed he finds himself nodding along. Inki was who he was drawing that ink from, though it still perplexed him a bit. It's the why-- Perhaps it was merely a memento mori for the one that'd struck him down.

Holding a light hum he'd sip before he spoke.

"Yeh, I remember the 'ole... Thousand eyes 'n' all. 'el, felt 'em when Than showed me the magic 'n' I still do feel 'em from time to time. Not s'strongly but... Still feel 'em.

But if'n there ain't no bargain, does Inki give more ta those that provide it stuff?"
(Andreas)
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 Saul starts looking for a strong drink, and a wooden block to bite on.
(Saul)
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[00:36] Listening closely to the story of Inki, the young girls attention was tight as a vice grip even as she stored away the ultimately useless information. Her mind had already been made up. Olive eyes occasionally glanced to those misty, black tentacles and back to face the terrifying pirate.

Ears deaf to the pleas of the injured figure, she looked over to Andreas with some amusement. More questions about the deep one that she hardly understood. After a second, Enlil would stand up, move over onto the other side of the bar, grab a rag...

And start cleaning. She began polishing glasses and the table quietly, as if employed.
(Enlil)
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 Maertock Reave asks, "Right, what's your injury kiddo?"
 Saul says, "Gotsa broken arm.."
 Saul exclaims, "From robbing someone!"
Maertock Reave says, "Ahahahahahhahah....oh jeez. This is gonna hurt."
 Maertock Reave says, "Kid, bite down on something hard."
 Saul gets the piece of wood and places it in his mouth.
(Saul)
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 Saul exclaims, "MHMP!"
 Maertock would rise from his place at the bar as he turned towards one of his youngest new marauders, clicking his rows of serrated teeth together with cheer as he continued his lesson as if nothing happened; shark's eyes scanning over Saul's physique briefly before black tentacles of incredibly dense, pulsating shadows would emerge from his inky cloak.

A steady reminder it wasn't clothing; but a very extension of his connection with the shadows.

"He is Inki no longer. That god died betrayed. When the corpse fell to the abyss, it was warped by the rightful sensation of black rage and retribution. When the ananthema, the forgotten and nameless creature of the cycle that Jormungandr never offered a title or glimpse; that became the heart of the corpse as two became one. No....the dead god is not Inki…..he is the Mori."

At the utterance of the name, the tavern's light was immediately and suddenly extinguished, each flickering flame and candle lit hearth having its warmth and glimmer swallowed by a sudden, black tide. Cold fog rolled in at their feet; and the sensation that one was being watched from the darkness became suddenly apparent as the room was filled with an unnatural cold.

"The dead god will be stirred. But until then, we reave in his name and sink souls and ships alike to his abyssal depths. All to fuel the heart that beats until the corpse stirs at last."

As the darkness encroached, the tentacles extended from behind Maertock and wrapped around and round the youth's arm, seeming to reach various places in the joints before in a sudden, BRUTAL snapping motion the arm was broken back into place.

The tentacles would swiftly splint it after with a nearby planks of wood after dousing it with alcohol.

"His eyes are wherever there is darkness. The dead god sees all, and in letting him join your shadow; so too will his favor and blessings grow in ambient passage freely forth. He does not care what we do; so long as blood is spilled and souls sunken in his name."

The captain would nod steadily at that, turning to the young girl with a smile.

"You want a job at the tavern little lady? You're a natural."
(Maertock Reave)
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 It takes the goat-boy some time, but he does manage to grind through the information placed before him. It's a lot of big words for the teen, unheard of gods even, but it all still mattered in his coming plans! Should, of course, such a god humor his idea.

The deity's effect on the tavern light is met with a slight jump in his seat, but ultimately he'd grown used to the events that follow. From the darkness that held eyes beyond a countable infinity to the bone-chilling cold.

This was what he sought when it came to power, and beyond its darkness lay something he might just be able to use in order to gain those legends.

"So... We're jus' waitin' their arrival or awakenin' of sorts? Was expectin' them ta want somethin' more than jus'... Spreadin' their name. Yet, I 'spose s'what legends want, y'know?"

Offering a lighthearted smile Andreas soon continues, "Than pointed me towards usin' some of the more negative emotions in order ta draw forth 'is shadow. Sorta works at times, but ain't too solid yet.

Think... I'll have it down soon. I wanna be like y'all, after all, 'n' I'm 'earin' a lot of promises from what'cha sayin'." Sniffling, hazel eyes soon fall towards the fog that'd rolled in.

"... Ya got any tips ta drawin' out that shadow better? S'where I'm caught, I feel."
(Andreas)
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 Despite being a 'natural' she was hardly making the glass cleaner at all, smudging the cloth around in a circle and trying to look productive as she listened. When the attention turned to her, a small smile was given.

"Job? Oh, that's not necessary, Lord Pirate. Being your apprentice is enough of a commitment."

Just like that she signed herself up, before looking off to what Andreas had to say.
(Enlil)
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 Saul says, "Thanks pops."
Saul says, "I really needed it."
 Saul says, "Also I can't prove it but I think you enjoyed watching me in pain."
 Maertock would click his rows of serrated teeth together with ambient cheer as the surgery was done, light steadily returning to the room as the fog dissipated while the Captain enjoyed the finer things in life. Continuing to sip away at his vintage Valmasian Brandy, the reaver lord of the south coast would lean his finned elbows upon the counter once more with amusement.

"Some people are waiting. I am not some people. If we leave it til the end of the goddamn world; what's even the point of waking him? No, I'm more ambitious than that. I plan to master necrofishmancy; trademark pending, to wake the dead god myself. Sounds fun, don't it?"

The captain would dredge his hands into the depths of his shadowy being, withdrawing after a time a glimmering, egg shaped stone of vibrance and golden gleam.

A Chiron gem, whole and untarnished.

"Now, one or two of these most certainly would help in such an endeavor. Though I'm debatin' whether to use this one in particular for such an effort, or work something out with my older brother's ghost mirror and the two synthetic corpses we got lying about in the ship to make an advanced spatial navigation system. Sky ship, sea ship, rift ship. No fear. Either way, power thing to have, perks of being a pirate. Take what you can, give nothing back."

His cold blue eyes would fall to his new apprentice at that.

"I like your boldness. Yes, I believe I will take you as an apprentice. I might as well try to spread the dark arts a bit for the giggles."

The captain would nod to the goat boy's words once more too.

"Negative emotions are a good start, but if you actually want to draw upon the abyss? Listen for the whispers; find a cold, damp cave by the seaside void of light, and meditate there in silence bar for the tides and what sticky sensations will enter your brain. He will come."
"
(Maertock Reave)
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 A light chuckle escapes the farmhand at the word - Necrofishmancy… It's a strange one, but fitting given the circumstances. With a light nod-nod of his head he's soon to tip his head back for some more apple juice. Gods know he'd have to lay off it in the coming morning now, might as well enjoy it.

"S'fair, s'fair. I wanna try 'n' speed it up like y'all as well!.. Jus'... Maybe figure out a different way ta do it, perhaps. Bound ta be some way ta get people ta take their word seriously while strikin' a deal with 'nother person."

Such would be seen in time, though.

Flicking that hazel gaze towards the egg-gem his pupils soon widen. There came the brief thought of reaching forth to maybe just press a digit against its surface, but...

Well. He liked his fingers where the ywere.

"'avin' a ship that goes 'round in all terrains s'really cool! Think it'd be neater ta use that one on it, really. Could make findin' the other parts all the easier y'know..?

That said though... Whispers 'n' a cave..." Trailing off on a hum his head bobs steadily, rusty locks following the light movement. "Figurin' I'll try that in the mornin'. Got a few 'ours of sleep I wanna catch up on.

Thank ya though, cap'n. I'll come back ta ya with my idea a lil later on-- 'opefully when I get a good 'ang on Deep Magic!"
(Andreas)
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 A patient soul, awaiting her turn to speak with the captain about an order most urgent. Lord Death had clearly guided her to this place- there was no other explanation. For now she'd continue to pretend to clean the cup, her eyes caught by that illustrious Chiron gem.

Though Enlil had no idea what it was, such an item radiated power even to a weak magi such as herself. Her lips were parted with awe.
(Enlil)
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Maertock would recline cheerfully upon the bar at that, tipping his black hat down with ambient cheer as he hummed mirthfully a jolly reaver's tune. It was a good year; a far better year than his brother's death had been at the least. He was at last moving forward with his life and the crew, there would be nothing that could stop the determination of the reaver lord.

"Indeed, I've considered that in truth; if we improve the ship to be a vessel unlike any other; we could find much rarer treasures. It would also allow us to likely bring the ship to the abyss after we conquer the dreadwoods and build a shipyard there. Improving the flagship of our fleet to be empowered in any such creativity manner as what this gem is capable of is frankly limitless."

The captain would nod firmly and steadily at that. This was the truth of the matter.

"There's also the given that I'm more likely to find another one of these if we improved the ship; perhaps bound my brother's sealed mirror soul to it and create a sort of.....nexus of necrofishmancy. It could offer exactly what I'd need to help raise the dead god to his black throne."
(Maertock Reave)
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 "You're talkative."

The simple comment would be thrown towards the pirate as Enlil lounged about. She had given up her pointless task at trying to wash the cup, having gone to put away glasses and arrange boxes in her own manner. Even if they were already perfectly arranged beforehand.

Enlil had remained mostly silent throughout the proceedings, yet what she had said held little subtlety behind it. The ruminations of Lord Death were the string she followed, pawing along until led to the source. Now she was here.

"My name is Enlil. Enki is part of your crew, I think."
(Enlil)
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 "I have to be. A captain who is a poor orator is one who cannot effectively dictate orders to his crew. It's for the best I'm as charismatic and ruthless as I am."

The captain would nod steadily at that, taking a long, thoughtful drag from his cigar as minty smoke rose in progressive tendrils from his dry, reddened gills. He'd glance over Enlil with a bit of a closer view than was allowed during the larger gathering, flashing a wide, serrated grin that appeared both genial and predatory at the same time to the girl.

It was as kindly as he could manage.

"It is a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance Enlil. Enki is one of my reaver brood, indeed. A notorious youth already; he'll go far with certainty. But I admit of the two, I can already tell you're the dramatically smarter of the pair."
(Maertock Reave)
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"Hmm, me? Smarter?"

Rubbing at her cheek, the girl ruminated upon the assertion. Enki was... well, he wasn't very smart. But he was successful. Surely that counted for leagues beyond typical book smarts. She left it at that though, not really sure how to make the comparison.

It would be a lie to suggest that Enlil wasn't a little creeped out by Maertock's appearance and mannerisms. It showed on her face as a small frown, as if constantly perturbed at what was in front of her, without bothering to try and hide it.

At least, it didn't get in the way of what she intended to say.

"I'm not too smart. I'm chosen. So are you. I'm surprised... I didn't think Lord Death would have so much influence in this country." That it could be taught among the upper echelons of Achyon and even to these pirates.
(Enlil)
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 "Without a doubt. Definitely smarter. That's okay, he's good at what he does. Not everyone needs to be a big thinker when it comes down to it. The boy's a criminal prodigy in truth; the thug profession was made for him."

The captain would nod sagely at that, taking a steady swig from his bottle as he retreated his serrated visage mildly at the young girl's horror.

"I know, I'm hauntingly beautiful. I could have been a model, but I didn't want to break too many hearts."

Maertock would shake his head steadily at that, nodding lightly to his apprentice with ambient cheer.

"Have no fear my apprentice, these teeth are not for you. I protect my ilk with the ferocity of the depth's greatest predators, and you are under my ward as of now."

The reaver lord of the south coast would bob his head steadily at that with a cheerful click of his serrated rows of teeth.

"The smartest folk think they ain't learned enough yet, humility is a good place to start when beginning one's pursuit of dark knowledge. In truth, I learned it secondhand and thirdhand in a manner."

The captain would take another swig at that.

"The councilor of Achyon Trik Gutterrunner was my first instructor. I invited him to my cabin to make an offer he couldn't refuse, then had a lecture in Achyon's city park while we were technically still at war with them. These things happen."

Maertock would nod sagely.

"My second and present tutor is the Councillor of Achyon known as Nidaz; he gave me a practical instruction and completed my lecture along with adding parts Trik willfully abstained from offering as trade secrets. My knowledge is quite complete in that regard."
(Maertock Reave)
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 Every word was collected like honey, head bobbling occasionally to affirm her attention. So there were at least two great necromancers on the continent, protected in the walls of Achyon. Ironic, that the city of progress seeking to overthrow gods should harbour such an art, derived of the greatest angel and existing for thousands of years.

"I'm prepared to learn as much as you wish to teach, Lord Pirate." There was a pause. Perhaps Enlil was indeed smarter than she looked, because the young girl stopped for a minute to think about things she'd heard before.

"Why have you embraced Lord Death's love, if you have your own patron god to follow? With their own gifts?"

(Enlil)
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 Maertock would click his rows of serrated teeth together with cheer at having such an attentive pupil; perhaps having an apprentice close at hand learning with him could end up aiding in his future efforts. At the least, teaching was a former of expanding his own mastery; reiterating the basics solidified his grasp of them with each reutterance.

"I am willing to teach everything I know, but I suppose we really need to start with what you know. Your proficiency and history in the subject will be a key starting point in any formal instruction. I'm a doctor and master shadow magi myself; marionette strings is an adequate metaphor for the study in truth."

The captain would nod steadily at that, pausing as Enlil asked an armor piercing question. The sort that actually made the sharkman pause, and consider his words before deigning to actually respond.

"Way I see it, my god gave me agency and free will for a reason. His nature is unlike any other; a divine parasite consumes the power of all that fall within his gravitas. Symbolically speaking; this means his gifts are oft stolen from others; much the same as we sink ships and souls alike in our reaving."

Maertock would gesture idly with his webbed hands at that.

"Way I see it, death above and the dead god below have a lot in common; they're both betrayed sons at the end of the day. Long as I sink souls for my patron lord of Kerdanhel; whatever dark magics I accumulate and other patrons I find to augment my dread service are just additional treasure's taken in my mind."
(Maertock Reave)
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 "Mmm.."

It didn't particularly bother her to hear such an explanation. Those that served Lord Death would advance his schemes regardless of motive. Whatever the truth of the matter about this Inki creature, it too was undoubtedly an agent of the afterlife. The scent was too familiar.

"You're also smart," she'd finally conclude. The girl spun about, parking herself on a nearby crate- legs swinging carelessly as it wobbled for a few seconds before stabilizing.

Her hand stretched out. "I don't have much formal training. Just a few weeks, back in my home country. I'm still learning to be a proper magi."

Something stirred within her sleeve, bulging out like a rolling vegetable, before finally appearing out from the cuff. A frog- minus the outside. It was a small skeletal creature, resting in her palm.
(Enlil)
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 Maertock would nod slowly at that with a sense of cheer, chuckling softly to the young woman as he considered her words before taking another firm dreg from his bottle of brandy.

"Yes, I am. Despite my profession, I am a scholar at heart. The richest treasure I can find in the abyssal depths will not be plunder or gold; but dark knowledge that is vastly more powerful. I am a pirate captain, yes, also a master fencer; a master cook, a doctor, and above all a sovereign of shadows. I am a master of them without peer."

The captain would nod steadily at that, considering for a time how he could best educate the girl in the dark art after his own instruction. The four key organs came to mind in truth. And the hidden fifth that brought it all together.

"If you're learning to become a proper magi, what better way to begin your studies than with a proper black art. Alright, listen close, there's four vital parts of a cadaver that are ofutmost importance to reanimation."

Maertock would take a long drag from his cigar at that, humming to himself for a time with ambient cheer as he nodded.

"First, there's the brain. Can't steer a ship without the wheel; it's still in control of primary motor functions for the body even after death. Someday, maybe I could mash two bad brains together into one super stupid brain, but that's a question for another time."

A single finger was raised.

"Second, there's the heart. That's where your mana is concentrated most intensely; the pulsation of ambient life within you. It pumps blood and mana throughout your body with surprising synchronicity for organic design upon the mana circuitry."

A second finger would be raised.

"Trik taught me those two, but his pupil; my second instructor Councilman Nidaz, taught me the importance of two other key parts of the cycle of reanimation. The third is the stomach; it is both a place of reserve for your own mana through which animation and advanced manipulation in a more....marionette-esque manner is made possible, and connects keenly to the fourth part of the equation that brings it all together."

The captain would nod steadily at that, a third finger raised.

"The spine; easiest to break with a corpse from brutality in battle; especially in my case as a shark and swordsman alike. This key pathway is the direct current through which mana runs up through the heart and the brain; connecting the pathways of the stomach lining, the brain, and the heart together in a cyclical flow through which your average person's mana circuits extend."

A fourth finger was raised.

"And the hidden, now not so hidden considering how many times I've said it fifth. The mana circuits that run through your body are the source of your sorcerous potential and strength. Your resolve in a manner to move forth. In the act of necromancy, invading the dead circuitry and forcing your mana into its own; running them through the cycles of life in a mimickry of your own pulsating cycle. This is the most basic form of reanimation."

Maertock would nod once more.

"This is why I became a doctor. The circuits are the most important part in the end. It is the natural flow of life as my sea turtle mentor Raul would oft say."

(Maertock Reave)
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 Like a forbidden tome wrenched from Azrael's kingdom, Maertock spoke with an authority beyond his position. He had been graced, by elder necromancers- and that knowledge had been kept. Enlil actually pulled out a little notepad and began scribbling what she was told.

Five key parts to necromancy. It was knowledge she vaguely understood through practise, though having it explicitly told put a new light on things. Resurrecting a stupid toad was different to a human- and said stupid toad retreated back into her sleeve.

"You've been teaching others?"

The implication was picked up and honed in on quickly. "You should be careful. Power struggles are inevitable."
(Enlil)
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 Maertock would flash a serrated grin to Enlil as he shook his head, cheerfully clicking them together as he took steady dregs from his brandy. It was nice to have a taciturn pupil; easier to respond to in truth than the chattering sort.

"I have taught others deep sorcery. But necromancy? No, that I have only taught you. You're the first to show interest; and moreso the first who could smell death on me. That's as much as sign as any."

The captain would nod sagely. The tides were strange, and oft black. But they had their reasonings in the manner of fate, eldritch as it might seem at times.

"But power struggles? That's half the fun, we always need more bodies for experimentation. I've never feared a good fight little lady."
(Maertock Reave)