A horror's guide to piracy
CH 05 - The Eldritch Navigator
Auguste
Twenty days had passed since their arrival on the quaint island. Agathe, with her beguiling charm, managed to secure a room for them without spending a single coin. A dazzling smile cast its magic on the hotel manager, ensuring their free accommodation.
Once they reached the mainland, and after Perona had honed her newfound powers, Auguste decided to dispatch her under the cloak of night. Her mission: infiltrate the Arlong Pirates' treasure trove and retrieve Nagash's elusive first book. Confrontation with the notorious pirates could wait; stealth and cunning were the weapons of choice for this covert endeavor.
Nagash's First Book, a tome of eldritch power bound in ancient leather, pulsed with an ominous aura that seemed to defy the boundaries between the mortal and the arcane. The cover, weathered and etched with cryptic symbols, hinted at the unspeakable secrets held within its pages. Upon closer inspection, the leather appeared to writhe and shift, as if imbued with a malevolent sentience. Opening the book revealed pages that seemed to be alive, their edges quivering as if whispering forbidden knowledge to those who dared to gaze upon them. The text, etched in a language that transcended the comprehension of mortals, seemed to shift and rearrange itself, making it elusive to the uninitiated.
The air around the book crackled with energy, an unsettling hum resonating as if the very fabric of reality recoiled in the presence of its dark wisdom. Faint whispers, like distant echoes from the void, emanated from the pages, promising both enlightenment and madness to those who dared to decipher its contents. Nagash's First Book, a relic of forbidden sorcery, pulsed with an otherworldly heartbeat, beckoning those who sought the forbidden truths hidden within its eldritch embrace. Its presence, both alluring and malefic, hinted at the dread and power that awaited those who delved into the mysteries it held.
Once he had the book, he spent twenty days studying it, pausing sometimes to send dreams to his future navigator through the coin, and passing sometimes secrets from the book. Meanwhile, Perona was sulking.
Perona, with a petulant expression etched on her ghostly visage, floated aimlessly around the room, her ethereal form flickering with impatience. As Auguste delved into the arcane intricacies of Nagash's First Book, Perona's boredom became increasingly palpable, a spectral energy disrupting the otherwise studious atmosphere.
"Auguste, this is sooo boring!" Perona whined, her voice echoing with a haunting tone that grated on the nerves. She passed through the bookshelves, sending scattered pages into disarray as she meandered around the room. "Can't we do something more interesting? Like haunt the locals or unleash a spectral prank? I'm wasting away here!"
Auguste, immersed in the cryptic text, cast an exasperated glance toward Perona. "I'm trying to decipher ancient sorcery, Perona. That's not exactly a cakewalk in the park, or whatever is the good expression."
The ghost girl let out an exaggerated sigh, her translucent form swirling in annoyance. "But I'm bored! Studying is for mortals. I thought being a ghost meant we could have some fun. Come on, let's do something exciting!" Auguste, torn between his pursuit of arcane knowledge and Perona's relentless pestering, sighed in resignation. The room seemed to hold a delicate balance between occult mysteries and spectral whimsy, and Perona's impatience threatened to tip the scales into chaos. At least, Agathe was enjoying herself by sucking dry the locals.
+25 Fear Points
"Oho ! It seems that my family's action can also give me fear points ?"
Agathe
In the dimly lit tavern along the coastal town, the lively chatter of sailors and the distant sounds of crashing waves formed a backdrop to the ambiance. Agathe, perched on a barstool, exuded an air of sultry confidence, her leather corset drawing eyes from across the room. The young sailor, enticed by her allure, approached with a confident swagger.
"Evenin', miss. Mind if I join you? Name's Tom, by the way."
Agathe, casting a smoldering gaze in his direction, smiled coyly.
"Tom, is it? The pleasure's all mine. Call me Agathe."
As the conversation unfolded, Agathe expertly danced between witticisms and seductive banter. The sailor, convinced he had successfully charmed this mysterious beauty, couldn't help but feel a surge of pride.
"Agathe, you're not like the other girls around here. What brings someone like you to a place like this?"
"Oh, Tom, I find solace in the unexpected. Life's full of surprises, isn't it?"
The night progressed, and with each exchanged word, Agathe deepened her hold on the sailor's imagination. The allure of the unknown and the magnetic pull of her charisma led them to a shared decision.
"How 'bout we find a more private spot? I've got a room nearby."
Agathe, with a sultry smile, played along.
"Lead the way, Tom. Let's see where the night takes us."
As the sailor eagerly led Agathe to the privacy of his room, a subtle anticipation hung in the air. The tavern's raucous ambiance faded as the door closed behind them, enclosing them in a dimly lit chamber. Agathe, in her leather-clad allure, had played the part of a sultry seductress with exquisite finesse. However, behind the facade of human warmth lurked a darkness that defied the boundaries of the expected.
As the sailor, still under the spell of Agathe's charm, prepared for an intimate encounter, the atmosphere shifted. Agathe's features contorted, a grotesque transformation that defied the laws of nature. Her once alluring facade crumbled away, revealing the true essence of the monster within. The room, once charged with the promise of romantic tryst, transformed into a nightmarish theater where reality and horror converged.
The sailor, caught in the abrupt shift from desire to terror, could only watch as Agathe's monstrous form emerged. The air grew thick with an otherworldly malevolence as the leather-clad seductress gave way to a creature that defied the boundaries of human comprehension. The sailor's excitement twisted into an anguished dread, his eyes widening with the realization that he had unwittingly invited a fiend into his sanctum.
In the gruesome tableau that followed, the room bore witness to Agathe's monstrous appetite. The macabre symphony of the sailor's demise echoed through the confined space, a crescendo of horror that drowned out the tavern's distant revelry. What began as a night steeped in the illusion of seduction concluded in a dance with the darkest depths of the supernatural. The walls of the room, now stained with the echoes of terror, bore silent witness to the fleeting nature of the sailor's ill-fated liaison with the leather-clad horror.
Nami
Beside the reflective pool in the heart of Arlong Park, Arlong reclined on his throne, surrounded by the rhythmic murmur of lapping waves. The oppressive atmosphere hung heavy as Nami, a shadow of her former self, approached with a hesitant gait. Her eyes, once filled with spark, now mirrored the depths of her unraveling sanity.
"What have you brought from the humans, Nami?" Arlong's voice, indifferent and commanding, cut through the stillness. His predatory gaze swept over her, sensing the disturbance in her aura. The pool, mirroring the cold determination in his eyes, seemed to ripple with an unspoken tension.
Nami, standing before the pool, appeared almost otherworldly. Her trembling figure projected a strange silhouette, a haunting reflection of her descent into madness. "Arlong, I've gathered the treasures you demanded." Her voice, strained and eerily detached, resonated with an unsettling quality that set the water's surface aquiver.
Arlong, unmoved by her apparent distress, fixated on the pool's reflection as if seeking answers in its depths. "Something is amiss, Nami. I sense it. Speak." His words, devoid of concern, held a perceptive edge, compelling her to reveal the eldritch shadows that danced within her fractured mind.
Nami, compelled by a force beyond her control, began to speak with an unnatural cadence. "The humans' treasures, a fleeting illusion. Arlong, the waters whisper secrets of the void, and the void beckons." Her words, a disconcerting symphony of madness, mingled with the pool's undisturbed surface, as Arlong listened, indifferent yet curious about the abyss encroaching upon his once-loyal thief.
"What the fuck are you talking about, Nami ?!"
Her eyes flickered with madness, and a sinister smile played on her lips. "You thought you could control me, Arlong, but I've become something beyond your comprehension," she hissed, the words carrying an otherworldly weight. In a delirium of insanity, Nami spoke of visions and prophecies, of ancient entities and the cosmic tapestry that intertwined with her very being. Her words were a chaotic symphony, a discordant melody that hinted at the depths of her descent into eldritch madness. Arlong, once the oppressor, now stood bewildered as the fabric of reality seemed to unravel before him.
A palpable sense of impending doom hung heavy in the air. Then, with a maniacal laugh, Nami cast aside the last vestiges of her sanity along with her robe, revealing the eldritch tapestry etched on her flesh. As she stood naked, her flesh revealed a grotesque tapestry of eldritch symbols and scripts, etched in blood that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy. Nami's voice became a conduit for the unfathomable knowledge that had consumed her. The symbols on her skin pulsed with an unholy radiance, and the air resonated with an alien presence. Arlong, though a creature of formidable power, couldn't shake the unnerving feeling that he was faced not with a mere mortal but a vessel of cosmic forces that defied the laws of the known world. The symbols seemed to writhe and dance in response to the alien energies coursing through her veins, and Arlong, caught between fear and disbelief, witnessed the unveiling of a power that transcended the boundaries of mortal understanding.
Arlong, the imposing fish-man tyrant, regarded Nami with a mixture of suspicion and disdain. "What's this madness, thief? What have you done?" he demanded, his fish-like features contorted into a scowl.
Nami's eyes, wild and vacant, met Arlong's gaze as she screamed, "These symbols, they're made with the blood of my sister! I sacrificed her to end your reign of terror, Arlong!" Her voice carried an eerie resonance, a blend of desperation and malevolent purpose.
As Nami chanted in a language never heard before, the symbols on her skin seemed to writhe and glow, casting eerie shadows in the flickering torchlight. The pirates in the chamber, once reveling in their dark dominion, convulsed in agony. The air crackled with an otherworldly energy as the curse unfolded.
The curse manifested with ruthless precision. The pirates, once reveling in their dark dominion, convulsed in agony as the malevolent forces claimed them one by one. The air crackled with an ethereal energy, their screams blending with the dissonant harmony of Nami's eldritch chant. Shadows danced on the walls as the curse wove its fatal spell.
Arlong, the imposing figure of tyranny, stood defiant against the encroaching doom. However, the curse showed no mercy. With a guttural roar, Arlong succumbed to the malefic forces, his massive frame contorting in grotesque agony. The symbols on Nami's body flared with an intensity that mirrored the demise of the fish-man settled over Arlong Park, broken only by the eerie aftermath of the curse. Nami, her naked form a vessel of eldritch power, stood amidst the carnage. The symbols on her skin became totally black, marring every part of her body but her a haunted visage. The curse, fulfilled in its dreadful purpose, left Arlong and his pirates in the cold embrace of death, a testament to the forbidden knowledge that had twisted the course of fate.
The silence war broken by the sound of someone clapping. "I had to help you to channel your magic but, oh shit, sacrificing your sister ! That's rock'n'roll has hell ! Well, as hell…"
"You…YOU !".
Nami passed-out.
Nami
Nami awoke with a gasp, her eyes snapping open to an unfamiliar surroundings. The rhythmic rocking of the boat and the soft creaking of the wooden hull hinted at the vessel that now cradled her. Panic surged through her as she instinctively looked down, only to find the eldritch symbols still etched onto her skin. The memories of the nightmarish ritual flooded back – the incantations, the malediction, the sacrifice of her sister's blood. It all felt like a grotesque fever dream. Nami couldn't shake the lingering unease. The boat sailed across the seas, carrying her into an uncertain future, and she couldn't help but feel like a pawn in a game that transcended her understanding. The eldritch symbols on her skin remained, a visible reminder of the pact forged in the throes of madness, and Nami couldn't escape the unsettling truth that her destiny had become entwined with forces beyond her control.
A gentle rap on the door heralded Perona's arrival. As the door eased open, Nami was met by the spectral figure of Perona, her pink hair cascading like a ghostly waterfall over a translucent nightgown that defied the very essence of the living. In her grasp, Perona clutched a studded teddy bear, a whimsical companion that injected a surreal twist into her ghostly demeanor.
Perona entered the room with a soft smile, her gaze piercing into Nami's eyes. "How are you feeling, Orange ?" she inquired, her voice carrying a haunting melody. The transparent nightgown enveloped her form, lending her an otherworldly allure. The studded teddy bear, an eccentric touch against the backdrop of recent macabre events, created an odd yet fascinating contradiction, momentarily rendering Nami speechless. Despite the bizarre contrast, Perona's genuine concern emanated through her ghostly presence, casting an eerie yet oddly comforting atmosphere.
Climbing onto the bed beside Nami, Perona's ethereal figure and the transparent nightgown underscored the surreal nature of the moment. The realization struck Nami that she was unclothed while Perona was nearly so, two alluring and enchanting young women sharing a space. An unexpected and unsettling thought surfaced, but Nami quickly dismissed it, recognizing the inappropriateness of such musings in the midst of their peculiar circumstances. Yet, an unspoken tension lingered, hinting at the continued strangeness that surrounded them.
Perona, with a mixture of childlike entitlement and a touch of vulgarity, began to recount the bizarre events to Nami. "Okay, so like, that strange Auguste guy, he's like a kicked-out prince or something, and he's got this thing for collecting oddballs. He turned me into a ghost because, well, why the heck not? Now, he's all interested in you, sweetie, 'cause you're a navigator, and he's got this weird group of eldritch beings going on."
Perona's voice wavered between a spoiled princess's tone and an unabashedly direct manner. "So, you see, you're in the spotlight now, Nami. The eldritch crowd thinks you're special. And just so you know, Auguste isn't your everyday guy. He's got a taste for the unusual, like collecting shiny objects, and I guess you've become his latest treasure. Lucky you, right?" Her words carried a cheeky undertone, a blend of mockery and amusement at the surreal circumstances that had thrust them into the orbit of the enigmatic Auguste and his eldritch entourage.
Perona continued her explanation to Nami, the tone of her voice a peculiar blend of whimsy and eerie matter-of-factness. "Oh, and about that coin you swiped – turns out it's not your run-of-the-mill currency. Auguste used it as some kind of channel to merge you with this black magic book called the First Book of Nagash. It's like you're a living, breathing spellbook now. Isn't that wild?"
Nami, still grappling with the strangeness of her new reality, absorbed Perona's words with a mix of bewilderment and a growing sense of the arcane forces at play. The fusion with an eldritch tome explained the symbols on her skin and the eldritch incantations that had flowed from her during that night of madness.
'I…I killed my sister".
Nami's attempts to cry were met with an unsettling realization – her emotions were no longer tethered to the familiar realms of grief or regret. Instead, a perverse sense of glee twisted within her, an emotion that seemed alien and discordant in the face of her sister's tragic fate. The connection between her actions and conventional feelings had frayed, replaced by an unsettling detachment that sent shivers down her spine.
As she grappled with the strange void where her sorrow should reside, a disconcerting desire for Auguste began to weave its way through her thoughts. It was as if the eldritch fusion had reshaped the very fabric of her being, redefining her emotions and desires. The once-familiar contours of her humanity were now blurred, replaced by a surreal landscape where joy and longing coexisted in eerie harmony.
In the wake of her sister's demise, Nami found herself standing on the precipice of a psychological abyss, the echoes of her past emotions drowned in the eldritch symphony orchestrated by the fusion with Nagash's First Book and the enigmatic Auguste. The shadows of her own psyche danced with otherworldly threads, a macabre tapestry woven with the inexplicable consequences of her newfound existence.
Nami, still naked and accompanied by the spectral presence of Perona, ventured out of the room in search of Auguste. The eerie silence followed them, amplifying the gravity of the supernatural transformations that had befallen them. As they reached the location where Auguste and Agathe continued their discussion, Nami knelt before the enigmatic figure.
With a plea in her eyes, she begged Auguste for a taste of his blood. His response was a small incision on his finger, and as the crimson liquid emerged, Nami succumbed to an ecstasy unlike any she had experienced before. The eldritch fusion had wrought changes not just in her physical form but had stirred desires and pleasures beyond the boundaries of mortal understanding.
As Nami eagerly sucked the eldritch blood from Auguste's finger, a strange euphoria enveloped her, transcending the ordinary sensations of pleasure. The eldritch essence coursing through his veins seemed to carry with it a myriad of sensations that defied mortal understanding. In the dimly lit room, Nami couldn't contain the overwhelming sensations that surged through her transformed being.
With a mixture of pleasure and torment, she writhed on the floor, her body contorting in response to the eldritch energies that now coursed through her veins. Moans, both ecstatic and otherworldly, escaped her lips, resonating with the haunting melody of her altered existence. The macabre communion between mortal and eldritch unfolded, leaving Nami caught in the throes of an ecstasy that bordered on the supernatural, a twisted dance of pleasure that mirrored the dark transformation she had undergone.
As Nami emerged from the euphoric trance induced by the eldritch communion, the surreal scene before her unfolded like a fevered dream. Agathe, Auguste, and Perona stood together, their figures silhouetted against the dim light. Behind them, the undead sailors, their vacant eyes staring ahead, navigated the caravel with an eerie precision.
In the dimly lit room, the ethereal figures of Agathe, Perona, and Auguste cast elongated shadows on the walls, creating a haunting tableau. Agathe, adorned in a lustrous corset that accentuated her spectral allure, carried an air of sensuality that mingled with the ghostly aura surrounding her. The corset hugged her form, revealing the contours of her spectral beauty. Her studded teddy bear, an eccentric accessory, added a whimsical touch to the otherwise macabre atmosphere.
Perona, the pink-haired ghost, manifested an otherworldly allure in her translucent nightgown. The flowing garment seemed to dance with unseen currents as she glided into the room. The eerie glow of her presence heightened the contrast between the living and the spectral, creating an unsettling harmony.
Auguste, the enigmatic leader with captivating eyes, stood at the center of this supernatural triad. His muscled physique was on display, as he wore only suit pants, exuding a primal charisma. Each movement, each subtle gesture, resonated with a magnetic charm that transcended the mortal realm.
As Nami, still in her vulnerable nakedness, approached this strange assembly, the room pulsed with an otherworldly energy. The atmosphere seemed to vibrate with the convergence of mortal and immortal, an uncanny fusion that defied the boundaries of reality. The symbolism of the moment, underscored by the cryptic nature of their union, marked the beginning of Nami's journey into the enigmatic world of the Von Carsteins, as Augustus started to speak :
"Listen up, you beautiful bunch of misfits and creatures of the night. We're not just any crew; we're a freaking family, handpicked by gods that make the saints cringe and the devils throw a damn party. Look around, Agathe, Perona, Nami—we're the chosen ones, heirs to a legacy written in blood and sealed with a kiss from the darkest corners of existence. We've got the Von Carstein name on our backs, and let me tell you, that name ain't just a label; it's a promise, a threat, a ticket to a wild ride through the seas that'll make even the bravest souls question their sanity. Agathe, you siren of seduction; Perona, the ghostly enigma; Nami, the navigator with a penchant for the mysterious—we're the goddamn Von Carstein family, and together we're about to set sail on a journey that'll make history blush. So, my twisted companions, let the seas brace themselves, for the Von Carsteins are coming. We're not just here to sail; we're here to wreak havoc, revel in debauchery, and paint the seas red with the blood of those unfortunate enough to cross our path. To the forgotten gods and the unholy entities, we raise our glasses, and to the poor souls who dare stand against us, well, may they find solace in the fact that they'll be part of something legendary—one way or another."
Agathe, with a sultry grin that could seduce even the shadows, sauntered over to a ghastly bucket filled with crimson liquid. The blood within seemed to pulse with a life of its own, and as she dipped an ornate champagne glass into the macabre concoction, a hushed anticipation hung in the air. The glass brimmed with the essence of vitality, a feast for the eyes and the supernatural hunger that simmered within her.
Auguste, the enigmatic leader with a blend of childlike charisma and dark gravitas, approached the casket of blood. With a wicked smirk, he uttered words in an ancient, forbidden tongue, invoking the forgotten beings that dwelled in the shadows of existence. The room pulsated with an otherworldly energy as he pronounced, "In the name of the impious gods and the forsaken entities, I baptize you, Agathe von Carstein, Lahmia of the dark elegance!" Agathe, her naked form draped only in the provocative leather corset, surrendered to the dark embrace of the blood. As her head emerged from the crimson pool, her skin radiated an otherworldly glow, and she laughed—a haunting melody that echoed through the chamber.
Turning to Perona, Auguste continued the blasphemous rite. "In the name of the eldritch forces and the spectral realms, I baptize you, Perona von Carstein, Mother of Ghosts!" The nightgown-clad Perona descended into the pool, her ethereal figure merging seamlessly with the mysterious resonance of Auguste's words. Rising, she emerged reborn, an embodiment of ghostly allure.
Finally, Auguste turned his attention to Nami, the once-thieving navigator. With a mix of petulance and dark charm, he proclaimed, "In the name of forbidden knowledge and the arcane abyss, I baptize you, Nami von Carstein, the First Dark Mage!" Nami, in her naked vulnerability, succumbed to the ritual's embrace. As she rose from the blood, her eyes gleamed with an unholy fire, marking her as a vessel of arcane potential.
With a theatrical flourish, Agathe raised the glass to the haunting melody that echoed in the dimly lit room. The others, drawn to her like moths to a bewitched flame, watched as she began a mesmerizing dance. Her movements, a blend of sensuality and eldritch grace, seemed to beckon unseen forces from the the eerie symphony played on, Agathe's provocative allure reached its zenith. The room transformed into a twisted carnival of alluring nudity and black magic, a celebration that defied the norms of the living and embraced the forbidden dance of the undead. In the flickering candlelight, the Von Carstein family reveled in their newfound communion, each sip of blood-infused champagne fueling the hedonistic fervor that pulsed through the unholy gathering. The night unfolded as a spectral masquerade, a communion of desires and the arcane, marking the beginning of the Von Carstein legacy in a spectacle that would haunt the seas for generations to come.
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