Horror of the North
Revelation
Three days passed. On the dawn of the third day Helen ordered an attack on a galleon. As the Iron Shaft approached, it became clear that the galleon had already been taken. Unfortunately, the ship that destroyed it was still there.
It was an Orcish War Frigate, the sails black and torn, the wood old and rotted. The raiding party on board was already bloated from the victory, but still frenzied from battle. They began to holler war-cries as the Shaft approached, then it's leader came out.
Largot shook with rage as the events of that night, only dimly remembered, came flooding back with terrifying clarity. The masked man stood at the head of his raiders, and roared. Largot's eyes went bloodshot and for a moment it seemed like a smoke rose from him.
The first of the masked man's attacks hit the Shaft like a boulder from a giant's hand. It wasn't a spell, but it was similar in a general sort of way. It seemed like a focused ball of the smoke that had wreathed Largot.
"Hard to port! Let's get the hell out of here!" Helen yelled. Largot spun the helm and turned the ship as fast as it would go. They had a full wind backing them, but the other ship was far faster. It sped right past them like nothing, then turned and blocked their passage. It was so much larger that ramming it would have been futile.
The raiders wanted to stream aboard, but their leader forbade it and went on himself.
"On your ship you have a Largot. Allow me to fight him, and I'll leave you all alive." He said.
Largot stepped forward, sword drawn. "I'll kill you for what you did to my family."
"Let's see how you've grown. Let's see if you're worthy of your heritage."
They ran at each other. The much larger Orc bringing his giant blade down for a crushing blow that shattered the old, iron saber Largot had been using. It hadn't even been a contest.
"You are unworthy. I should kill you now, son, but that would be too easy. A death in battle is more than you deserve."
"Son…?" Largot panted.
The masked man laughed a terrifying laugh. "That whore never told you who you were? You are the worthless son of the great Urgan gro-Kaduul. Now, you must live with your failure and-"
Largot sprung up and punched as hard as he could. He managed to land the blow onto Urgan's unprotected throat. He gagged and vomited inside his mask, then whipped out a dagger and dragged it vertically down his son's face. He started at the forehead and went down, through the left eye, and ended midway through the cheek. Largot grunted and clutched his face, suddenly glowing black and red.
"So you do have some strength, but no matter. Your failure here shows me that you are the most worthless son a father could have."
With that he left. His ship sped away and his words echoed in Largot's ears as he knelt there, pulsing, until he went berserk and flew at the nearest thing with a pulse.
Unfortunately, that thing was Floats. Largot's hand smashed across his face, destroying his skull and throwing him like a rag doll across the whole deck. He looked up. Everyone who saw him swore that his now-useless left eye glowed red as black-and-red smoke cascaded off of him. He was panting heavily and his carriage was that of a beast after the kill. Suddenly, he convulsed, as if trying to contain himself, then he fell to the ground, his left eye a dull grey-white and the smoke had gone as quickly as it had come.