Beneath a Black Flag -- Veras Edrix

Moderators: Forum Moderators, Active DMs

Post Reply
User avatar
DeepWebAssassin
Posts: 101
Joined: Tue Mar 14, 2017 9:33 am

Beneath a Black Flag -- Veras Edrix

Post by DeepWebAssassin » Sat Jul 09, 2022 9:47 pm

Image

"You saw it, didn't you?"

"A sleeping god, hiding in a dream."

"Slowly circling the world."


He was jarred awake -- the distant boom of a ship-mounted bombard dragging him hatefully from his dreams. The seconds crawled by as he sat up rigidly. His heart pounding, body braced for impact.

A great splash marked the end of the waiting and the start of the fight. Frenzied shouts and running footfalls filled the air. Another distant boom followed, then another. The splashes grew closer, their enemy expertly adjusting for the rough sea and harsh wind. As he staggered onto the deck of the ragged ship he watched the mangonel lob a burning orb toward the enemy vessel.

A flash of light and the whoosh of spreading flame marked first blood in the deadly game.

A symphony of cheers and jeers filled the air, mingling with the sound of the enemy bombard firing once more. Like watercolors run together, the moment was a messy cobble of elation and fear. Only vaguely did he remember the sight of the deck erupting into splinters of wood and wisps of flame. The clarity of the world growing dull as he was hurled into the heartless sea.

Down he sunk, as darkness drowned out the shafts of light filtering down into the blue. His body limply tossed by the currents like the solitary splinters of wood set free from a once-mighty ship.

As hope faded from his battered mind, the serpent slithered through his dreams once more.
And he reached out with all he had left, pilfering like a thief. Clutching jealously to a sliver of life.

For he was but a man who was not yet ready to die.
Last edited by DeepWebAssassin on Fri Aug 05, 2022 2:43 am, edited 1 time in total.

Currently Playing:
Veras Edrix
(Discord: narcopolo)


User avatar
DeepWebAssassin
Posts: 101
Joined: Tue Mar 14, 2017 9:33 am

Re: Beneath a Black Flag -- Veras Edrix

Post by DeepWebAssassin » Mon Jul 25, 2022 6:58 pm

"...Row! Row! The dead men know,
We'll never see the end.
So spend your gold!
You won't grow old.
We're coming 'round again..."

They all cried out savagely in the name of loyalty. And what was such an oath, but servitude by another name?

He could not hold it in his hand, nor fill his stomach with it. It could not be weighed or checked for authenticity. He could value it against other things, for its value exists only in the mind.

And yet, the stench of seared flesh and the bitter burn of acid hung in the air like an ancient spirit that just won't rest. A haunting reminder of how the world isn't any different, no matter where you go. The uniforms, banners, and speech all change like leaves upon the trees at the turn of autumn. But men's hearts will always be the same. They all want to be king.

He would pass them on the docks, notice their hands resting on their weapons as they smiled and bid each other good hunting. They lied to themselves like an artist lies when he captures the world in the beauty of a painting. They'd see what they would rather believe. And what a colorful, fine world it was.

But it's only a dream. A comfortable, terrible dream that bids them to stay asleep just a little while longer.

The Reaver was reminded of the words of an old Nelanther rowing song -- the first one he was taugh as a boy. In those days, he looked to it for inspiration. Now he would find it again, for resolve.

"I hope one day our paths cross again, brother. But hope is the tool of the skalds and storytellers. And we were born with only timber and steel."

May your friends forever toast your name,
And your foes forever curse it.
Only the forgotten will truly die.
Last edited by DeepWebAssassin on Mon Sep 05, 2022 5:37 pm, edited 3 times in total.

Currently Playing:
Veras Edrix
(Discord: narcopolo)


User avatar
DeepWebAssassin
Posts: 101
Joined: Tue Mar 14, 2017 9:33 am

Re: Beneath a Black Flag -- Veras Edrix

Post by DeepWebAssassin » Fri Aug 05, 2022 2:42 am

"I will bend no knee to king or lord!"

The crash of thunder accented the spoken words of the oath, lightning forking across the sky overhead. The two men were briefly illuminated in the inky blackness of the downpour.

Though the tempest was swirling overhead, they did not falter.

"I will wear no chains and serve no master!"

The rain pelted down on them, wind whipping harshly into their soaked frames. The sea swelled, saltwater rising to chill them to their bones as they knelt upon the edge of the sandbank.

Though the icy sea threatened to claim them, they continued on undaunted.

"I swear allegiance only to the heartless sea, that it may guide me to gold and glory!"

One man grabbed the other, forcing him below. A moment passed, and then another. Not a word was spoken, not a sound was heard over the drone of the wind and rain. At last, the surface of the sea was broken, and the second man was pulled upward. He gasped for breath.

Though he had not known what awaited him, he met the challenge.

"NEVER CONQUERED! FOREVER FREE!"

The words echoed out in that graveyard of dead sailors and salvaged ships. A hundred crews had come and gone on these very sands -- and that night their memory bore witness to something new. Fists were thrust skyward and voices called out in a savage cheer.

Though they did not know what awaited them, they moved ever onwards to meet it.

There was fury in their spirits.
There was fire in their hearts.
And the future was ever uncertain.
Last edited by DeepWebAssassin on Mon Sep 05, 2022 5:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Currently Playing:
Veras Edrix
(Discord: narcopolo)


User avatar
DeepWebAssassin
Posts: 101
Joined: Tue Mar 14, 2017 9:33 am

Re: Beneath a Black Flag -- Veras Edrix

Post by DeepWebAssassin » Sat Aug 13, 2022 1:16 am

Down and down
The drowned man dove
Into the ocean cold

And now his name
A warning tale
The only time it's told

Lest you forget you're slower
The more you have to hold


The ice cold midnight surf crashed over his body again, bringing a new wave of pain. A savage growl began to rise in his throat, but to no avail -- it was drowned out beneath the swell of seawater as he suddenly found himself gasping for air again. The freezing tide stole his breath and the world began to dim. A harsh, sneering tone filled his ears as he could feel himself being pulled by two sets of hands, back onto the sandy beach and away from the heartless sea.
"I told you, Veras. There is only fire and steel! You let yourself get soft. And now look at you..."

And he could raise not even a word in his defense. The fire in his chest nearly extinguished as he was roughly dragged along like salvage.

He'd awake later to dry, cracked skin and the circling of the carrion birds above. Their piercing calls serving as a harbinger of what comes for those who cannot find the strength to move themselves any longer.

And so he'd start to crawl. Not toward any specific purpose. Not because the spirit within him had been rekindled.

He would crawl from his place in the sand -- only because he feared the pain of staying would be greater than the pain of moving on.

And that fear clawed at him, threatening to drown out any resolve he had left. The once-proud man reduced to a struggling, sea-drowned heap.

Utterly alone, save for the eyes of hungry birds hoping he'd grant them a meal.

Currently Playing:
Veras Edrix
(Discord: narcopolo)


User avatar
DeepWebAssassin
Posts: 101
Joined: Tue Mar 14, 2017 9:33 am

Re: Beneath a Black Flag -- Veras Edrix

Post by DeepWebAssassin » Fri Aug 19, 2022 4:34 am

O' put me down to rest
While the rain falls cold
While thunder shouts above
While stories, grand, are told

O' send me out to sea
Upon a dead man's float
Then sink it down below
And play a mournful note

O' tell the girl back home
To know that I died well
With fire and steel in hand
My spirit never quell'd

O' put me down to rest
below the heartless sea
Set sail and don't look back
There is naught left to see



The hate, the fear, and the doubt within him all swirled like a drowning maelstrom from which he could not break free. The storm above raged on, the voices of his crew barely cutting through as the ocean swelled and bucked. It was as if Umberlee herself had sought to pull them down from the surface of the sea. A cold, bitter malevolence churned the waters below and the words of the seer hung in his ears like a vengeful spirit.

"The fangs of nine sharks spell despair. You lack the means to recover what was lost. The teeth have gnawed it all, and there is nothing you can do."
"You will step over the brink and you will sink into madness. Insanity. The up will be down, and the down will be up."

The masts of the enemy ship could be seen peeking over the rocky outcropping behind which they'd hidden. And like dogs starving for a meal, they pursued with a relentless hunger. The launcher sent fire streaking across the space between the two ships. It hung in the air like a star falling gracefully from the heavens for a single, beautiful moment. And then it crashed into the timbers to a cacophony of screams and frenzied shouts.

The Reaver gripped the railing of his ship and made his intentions clear -- a wordless, hate-filled battlecry clawed its way painfully from his throat. There was no excitement or joy. No hope or wonder. There was only the call of blood as thin, crimson trails snaked their way down his black-inked arms. The sea had transformed before him, like an illusion whisked away. From a wonderous bastion of freedom and legend to a dark and lonely prison. And while he held every key -- he remained locked away in the deepest cell. Banished away at his own misguided hand.

As he let go of the rope, landing upon the deck of the fatally wounded ship, he considered the men aboard it. Did they suffer like he did? Did they deserve the fate that was about to befall them? The priest was right -- there was no good left in the world. For if there ever was, someone would have stopped him long ago.

And in that moment he truly believed that he deserved all the ill that had befallen him.
And he felt a deep and bitter sorrow as he ran the deck red with the blood of men who had done him no wrong.

Perhaps this is all he ever was. Behind the laughs and search for legend. Beyond the aching heart and foolish pursuit. Past the attempts to cast off his life of old and find new purpose.

At the end of it all, this is what was always there. A wounded, hateful man. A stomach full of burning poison that hardly let him sleep or eat. Taunting memories of those he'd pushed away.

This is what was left. A hateful shadow on a path to his own destruction. A desperate sailor lost upon a heartless sea. A burning fire that had begun to consume all the kindling that remained -- choking itself out of existence from its own ravenous hunger.

Currently Playing:
Veras Edrix
(Discord: narcopolo)


User avatar
DeepWebAssassin
Posts: 101
Joined: Tue Mar 14, 2017 9:33 am

Re: Beneath a Black Flag -- Veras Edrix

Post by DeepWebAssassin » Tue Aug 23, 2022 5:54 am

And when I don't come home
Don't let my people cry
Old men don't forge new legends
Old men just slowly die

So cheer my name, you sorry dogs
I'm gone and you're still there

I lived life free
And paid the bill
All my accounts are square


"We reeeeally shouldn't be doing this..."

The smooth, feminine voice curled up in his mind like a whisper -- the distant memory of a better day long gone. But it was enough to give him pause. The now-familiar uncertainty crept upon him, stirring old emotion in his bleeding chest. He closed his eyes, suffering silently in a moment of weakness.

"You go ahead. I think you could use it more than I."

The man's ever-steady tone snapped him out of his daydream -- pulled him back like a lifeline tied to the mast. He took the offered rope and set his gaze to the horizon. He searched, but found no more reason to linger in the moment. Without thinking further, he gave a great pull to fire the salt-worn mangonel's payload. A streak of fire tore off into the sky and his eyes lingered on the fiery light. Lazily it hung there, far longer in the air than it seemed it rightly could, and then it dropped into the depths of Buccaneer's Bay never to be seen again.

A brief, brilliant existence it had known. A rapid rise and fall. A shimmering moment of awe in which all could behold its radiance, and then nothing. Forevermore, nothing. Only the memory of what once filled him with life to witness.

And as the stone sunk into the cold depths below, his heart sunk with it. The man next to him, hardly more than a stranger. And yet -- he could not stop himself from confessing his sorrow. His tragedy and failure. His weakness and doubt. The man was only a stranger, and yet, there were none more suited to bear witness to his plight. For he had few in his life who would remain, if they knew just what he'd become.

He removed the necklace from around his neck -- immediately feeling almost naked without that familiar weight. As his eyes lowered to the coin upon it, he felt a great and terrible finality about it all. A truth settled over him that he was too stubborn, too hopeful, and too afraid to admit until now.

He'd never be able to return it.
He'd never be able to look the owner in the eyes and endure her hate.
For he was still just a man, holding on to a sliver of a long-dead dream.
A dream of better times.

The thing that once brought him joy was now reduced to yet another pilfered valuable from someone he may never speak to again. Just another thing he wasn't supposed to have. It felt wrong to keep it, as if he was only cursing himself more deeply. It was as if the very metal was imbued with the sorrow, regret, and pain that had brought him this low. He forced the words out with a bitterness in his very soul that was directed, as always, inward.

"You keep it. May it bring you more luck than it brought me."

And later that night he would sit upon the freeport docks, legs dangling toward the waters below. He'd flip pieces of bread to a fat, temperamental seagull. And they'd talk.

They'd talk about all the things that troubled them.
They'd talk about what they lost.
They'd talk about how their most sincere promises had become twisted and lost in the murky sea.

He'd say much that he could never say to a living person and the seagull would just listen -- eagerly devouring each offering in trade.
And when the bread ran out, the bird would flutter lazily away.
For it had no reason to stay if he had nothing left to offer it.

https://youtu.be/M9dmwPfwkJ4

Currently Playing:
Veras Edrix
(Discord: narcopolo)


User avatar
DeepWebAssassin
Posts: 101
Joined: Tue Mar 14, 2017 9:33 am

Re: Beneath a Black Flag -- Veras Edrix

Post by DeepWebAssassin » Sun Aug 28, 2022 7:12 am

"I didn't mean to cause more problems for you."

His hands trembled -- a familiar warmth running down his hanging arms as the blood snaked in lazy, crimson trails toward his fingertips. The two shrouded figures standing before him, weapons in hand. They spoke, but their words were forced to compete with the haunting question that had been gnawing away at him for hours.

"Do you believe me?"

The woman's words echoed within him until they were drowned out by the rapid beating of his heart. By the rushing sound in his ears. By the utter and all-consuming stillness that hung in the air between the man and his two unexpected foes.

And then all at once, he could take no more.

He lashed out and the fight began -- a miasma of fire and light giving shape to his suffering. His eyes were on the enemy, but his mind was still focused on the knight and his cold, biting quips. On the woman and the careful distance she kept him at. On all of the others who'd taken joy from the pain with which he now lived.

And so he struck out, again and again. Leaving a macabre, crimson trail in his wake like a predator dragging a carcass back to its den. Only, he carried no corpse -- he'd let his quarry live. It was his blood that marked his path, and his alone.

As he knelt over the magic-scarred foes and hissed out his demands, he couldn't help but take a hateful pride in what he'd done. They'd come before him with a hurtful ploy, aiming a kick for his gut when he was at his lowest.

And in response, he'd turned all of the woe, fear, and doubt into a burning fuel that carried him to victory. The die was cast now, and there would be no going back.

The future was ever uncertain -- but one thing was clear.
There would be much more bloodshed on the horizon when the world below heard of what he’d done.

And he was just a man who was more than happy to stitch the wound in his heart with the hatred, grief, and terror that this bloodshed would bring.

That night, he would make a toast to life. He'd tell and listen to stories, in the happy company of friends and strangers alike. He'd throw himself into the reveling and celebration of his victory like a man who did not expect to be long for this world.

https://youtu.be/5soixb2U6xM

Currently Playing:
Veras Edrix
(Discord: narcopolo)


User avatar
DeepWebAssassin
Posts: 101
Joined: Tue Mar 14, 2017 9:33 am

Re: Beneath a Black Flag -- Veras Edrix

Post by DeepWebAssassin » Mon Sep 05, 2022 5:38 pm

Row once more for those we've lost

Twice for those still living

Three times for the ones we love

And four, for those we're killing


"You have conjured a spirit of death."

He was jarred from his sleep by the Seer's words, taunting him from a distant dream in which a serpent slithered an endless circle around the sky.

The sound of the midnight surf crashing upon Sencliff's shores droned on in the distance. And in the low, steady wash of ice-cold water meeting stone and sand, he could hear it all again. Relentless and persistent, denying him any hope of peace.

It was the wailing of dying men, left abandoned to a grizzly fate. The creaking and snapping of timber as their ship was turned to salvage -- the sea's cold maw opening up to swallow them whole as he jumped away to safety and didn't look back.

The shadow of a great and terrible galleon loomed over him. As he looked up to the clear night sky, he saw the stars blotted out in the shape of her ink-black sails and unyielding hull. As the bombards let forth a deafening boom and lit up the deck of the ghostly ship, he saw something slither through the stars behind it.

Something that would vanish if he looked too close. That was always present, but never quite there. A vast, coiling shape that ended where it began. And for just one moment, the circle was broken as the great figure let go of itself to turn its gaze to the wounded man, far down on the world below.

"You left me behind."

The accusation hung in the air, called out from the lips of the dead sailor lurking over his shoulder. It was heavy with the weight of truth, bitterness, and sorrow.

His gaze turned slowly back to face the victim of his designs but found only emptiness. He turned then back to the sky, only to find the shadow of the ghost ship and the great serpent missing, too.

And just like that he found himself entirely alone, standing where the sea meets the shore.

With only the choices he'd made to keep him company that night.

Those he'd made for himself.
And those he'd made for others.

"...And it will follow you until the end."


https://youtu.be/49FB9hhoO6c

Currently Playing:
Veras Edrix
(Discord: narcopolo)


User avatar
DeepWebAssassin
Posts: 101
Joined: Tue Mar 14, 2017 9:33 am

Re: Beneath a Black Flag -- Veras Edrix

Post by DeepWebAssassin » Fri Sep 30, 2022 12:24 pm

"Realize this. I see a Sencliff brigantine? I can not just look the other way."

"It's the fight that makes it all worthwhile, Mariangel. Win, lose, or utter oblivion."

"This is who people like us really are."


"I'll be looking for you out there."

"Be careful if you see me, amigo."

He looked upon the pale woman, reduced to a dying husk who fought for even a breath of air. And in that moment, he recalled the words of their first meeting. He recalled the legend in full glory -- sure, strong, and dangerous. He recalled standing before her, ambitious and full of fire.

His skin was marked with far less ink and his soul was cut less by the pain of his journey. But there he stood, in the face of his foe. Like he had not a care in the world. Knowing so little of how far he would travel in pursuit of the glory and legend he sought.

And now again, he stood before her at the end of it all. But the fire was gone -- and in its place, the great and consuming sobriety of truth. The truth that this is how the legend ends. The truth that no matter how great, every torch burned for only so long.

And so he watched, and he listened, and he spoke. Stealing away what precious remaining seconds he could, he confessed to the fading light. With a voice that was hardly more than her own rattling whisper, he laid all he had to give at the feet of a fellow sailor.

"You're a legend -- one that will endure long after all of us have come and gone."

"It's an honor to have known you..."

"...And a greater one to have fought you."


"We'll meet again sometime, in this life or the next."

"It was a pleasure, if short, to dance with you. I am certain we will trade javelins again some strange day."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Good hunting, Captain."

And there in the hold of the great galleon -- in the eye of the storm that surrounded them, it ended where it all began.

A promise of a hunt to come.
A spark between two spirits of the sea.
A parting in which neither knew how long they had left to live.

The great serpent made its way across the night sky above, a taunting reminder of an inescapable end. A reminder that no matter what he did, he was powerless to change the way of things. The world, like him, must take to live. And so it took.

Greedily, constantly, and without mercy.

The world took, and they all just scrambled to try and spirit away more time.

For some it was precious seconds in the arms of those who are not yet ready to see them go.

For others it was another day -- another desperate chance to carve a legacy worth leaving behind. Another hateful fight. Another dive into the maddening bloodshed that he had come to need as wholly as the air he breathed and the sea upon which he sailed.

But for all, it was a futile and impossible struggle against a foe that could not be beaten. In the end, he too, would die. And he wondered to himself who would be there to remember him, when he did. Who would come to mourn, avenge, or wait out his final seconds at his side.

And the answer that he found was a lonely, sorrowful uncertainty he'd long tried to avoid.

With no words left to say and his thoughts drowning in the endless sky above, he'd drink the rest of his night away in only the company of distant, blurry memories.

https://youtu.be/fS0LiDhSn3Y?t=178

Currently Playing:
Veras Edrix
(Discord: narcopolo)


User avatar
DeepWebAssassin
Posts: 101
Joined: Tue Mar 14, 2017 9:33 am

Re: Beneath a Black Flag -- Veras Edrix

Post by DeepWebAssassin » Mon Jan 16, 2023 12:46 am

"Look at you."
"You've wrapped the red flag around your waist."
"No quarter to the world."

Fatigue sunk its hateful claws deep into him, pulling down further with each step. And yet, the struggle continued. Heavy step followed heavy step, until nothing remained before him but the rolling waves of the heartless sea. She'd been right -- and finally his body had begun to accept it. He'd been fighting the world. Hungry for it all, like a dog too long without a meal. Savagely striking out in all directions, at any foe that presented itself.

"We can't keep doing this, Veras!"
"We're going to end up just like him! And for what?!"
"You just wanna FIGHT your whole life away for madmen?!"

The words weighted more heavily on him than ever before. Where once, they had been a raging inferno to drive him onwards -- they were now only an utter damnation. A conviction of the highest order, delivered by a ghost of his past. He hadn't wanted to hear it at the time.

The truth carried a certain undeniable sting to it, after all. A way of wounding a man who was driven by impossible dream and unyielding spirit.

But the knife had finally found its way in, delivered from a place he could not have foreseen. In a single quiet moment, he'd let slip his guard. Too much was his faith in himself, and too small was his faith in those who would climb over him given the chance.

And mixed amidst the fiery hatred that demanded he rise and fight -- there was a cold, swelling sorrow. A bitter acceptance that the burdens he'd come to bear were more his own doing than anyone else's.

As his posture slackened and the air pushed from his lungs, he closed his eyes and sought not revenge, not bloodshed, but rest. A temporary reprieve from the endless pursuit. A moment's worth of peace in a bloodstained life. He'd softly add his voice to the siren's song drifting out from the docks, a muttering of well-known words under his breath, spoken softly like a prayer. And with the peace that brought him, he'd find rest. The needful rest of a man long-tired from a journey that still had no end in sight.


"I may forget my name
On what isle I was born
From which shore that I came
How beautiful the morn

But one thing I will not forget
Is why I'm standing here
Upon the deck a' pirate ship
The black flag flying near

My wrists don't know the slaver's chain
Or the tax-man's clamp
I'll never bow head to a name
Or bear an empire's stamp"



https://youtu.be/XcV3rLSbY8E

Currently Playing:
Veras Edrix
(Discord: narcopolo)


User avatar
DeepWebAssassin
Posts: 101
Joined: Tue Mar 14, 2017 9:33 am

Re: Beneath a Black Flag -- Veras Edrix

Post by DeepWebAssassin » Thu Nov 09, 2023 3:40 am

"Would Valkur's challenge be any less right, if he had failed?"

Like phantoms on the midnight sea, the words floated in the back of his mind as another shot of burning liquid was poured back. The familiar taste of a bitter ritual served only to help him dull his senses and linger in the memories. Memories of words shared, promises exchanged, and risks taken side-by-side with legends and heroes; now ghosts.

As another name was etched into the pages of history, it was hard not to look back at the long road that had led here. To reflect upon how little time may be left, and the price that was going to be paid at the end of it all. It was easy to rattle the blade. To shout and stand atop the crowd, pointing at a distant foe.

But it was another thing entirely to face it, towering over you. Hearing the hush of the masses driven silent in awe of the terrifying monument before them. To know that you, and you alone must steal glory from the jaws of defeat. He hoped she knew in her final moments, the truth of what would come to follow. That she'd be the spirit of something greater.

Another drink turned into two, and two to ten. Blurry streets and the sounds of echoed footsteps acting as his chaperone down worn-out, winding streets. Into an alleyway, where voices normally drowned out in the cacophony of the city could be heard, if only by a few.

And on that wall he wrote a simple tribute.
To a hero who had died for what she believed in.

And he knew for certain, dragging his blackened fingers purposefully across the dirty stone -- that her death had not diminished a single word of the legend that would be told. That in the end, all that mattered is that she had set fire in the name of liberty.

FLORENTINE KILLED THE KING

https://youtu.be/8X29kevYQPY

Currently Playing:
Veras Edrix
(Discord: narcopolo)


Post Reply