A Gamer's Guide to Piracy : The Horror

CH 07 - First Blood


Auguste

In the dimly lit chamber, Auguste, bloodied and battered, dragged himself toward the altar. Each movement was agony, every breath a struggle. The consecrated ground beneath him seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy, amplifying the pain that surged through his body.

You killed [Old Lich]

+20 000 XP

You Killed [Dark Knight] x 12

+ 12 000 XP

You leveled up 9 times !

You are level 33 !

Auguste Luvneel

Level – 33

Horror Level - Small Horror

Race – Fledgling Progenitor Vampire

Fear Points : 0 FP

Experience Points : 210 XP

HP – 2000/3400

MP - 1120/3300

STR – 44

END – 34

DEX – 29

INT – 33

WIS – 10

CHA – 19

LCK – 11

Auguste Luvneel is the son of the king of the island of Luvneel and ?. He is a young vampire, new head to the House of Von Carstein.

As he reached the imposing stone structure, he summoned the last reserves of his strength to push aside the heavy slab that sealed the hidden recess.

The altar revealed a scene both sinister and mesmerizing. Within the concealed chamber, an imposing figure emerged from the shadows—an Eldritch Dark Knight, chained but undaunted. His armor bore the marks of chaos, twisted and warped, a testament to the dark forces that had granted him unholy power. Clutched between his gauntleted hands was a tome, an ancient and malevolent book that pulsed with eldritch energy.

The Chaos Chosen, emanating an aura of dark menace, regarded Auguste with eyes that reflected the abyss. There was a silent understanding between the wounded vampire and the bound warrior of chaos—a recognition of shared darkness and the enigmatic forces that had intertwined their fates. The air crackled with latent malevolence as Auguste, broken but resolute, awaited.

Nagash's Second Book, a sinister grimoire pulsating with eldritch malevolence, lay before Auguste, in the grasp of the armor. He took it. Its tarnished pages bore the weight of forbidden secrets, each arcane symbol etched with the promise of unimaginable power. Dark whispers seemed to emanate from the text, offering knowledge that defied the boundaries of sanity. Cursed and revered, the accursed tome held the essence of untold horrors, its covers a gateway to realms unknown.

As Auguste, the vampire progenitor, surveyed the eerie symbols within the Nagash's First Book, he felt an ancient resonance, a connection with the ethereal forces that coursed through the pages. Determined to awaken the dormant powers within, he allowed a few drops of his vampiric blood to fall upon the grotesque script. The crimson essence merged with the eldritch symbols, creating a spectral synergy that echoed in the chamber. The book absorbed the bloody offering, becoming a conduit between the mortal and the otherworldly.

In response to the blood communion, the Eldritch Dark Knight, shackled and suspended in a spectral slumber, stirred to life. Chains that had bound him for untold ages began to splinter and crack, and his eyes flared with newfound vitality. Auguste, feeling the pulse of their intertwined destinies, sensed an awakening beyond the influence of the Nagash's First Book. The vampiric essence and the ancient pact between progenitor and Chaos Chosen marked the beginning of a dark alliance, transcending the sinister verses of the cursed grimoire.


Smoker

The church's air hung thick with the remnants of conflict as Commodore Smoker and his trusty swordswoman, Tashigi, entered the scene. Their eyes surveyed the aftermath—a wounded young man, a lifeless priest, and a colossal, vacant black suit of armor. The tension in the room tightened as Smoker, cigar dangling from his lips, pieced together the grim puzzle.

Fixing his gaze on the newcomers—three mysterious young women, each with differently colored hair—he motioned for Tashigi to approach cautiously, sword at the ready. "Hold it. You, don't make any sudden moves," Smoker commanded Auguste, his gravelly voice cutting through the lingering echoes of battle. His eyes narrowed on the injured man. "You're in the middle of this mess. Killed the priest and triggered explosions. Religious extremist, perhaps?" suspicion dripped from his words, casting a shadow over the once-sacred church. The trio of women exchanged wary glances, caught in a situation that seemed far more complex than any of them had bargained for.

Commodore Smoker issued sharp commands to his subordinates, ordering them to catch the young man. Four marines, displaying a cautious determination, advanced toward the wounded youth, their intent clear – to take him into custody. The atmosphere grew heavier with each measured step, an undeniable sense of impending conflict pervading the scene.

In a moment of startling disruption, one of the women, the white-haired girl, draped in a fetishist ensemble, abruptly launched a sheathed blade toward the seemingly dormant suit of armor. The blade cut through the air with a grace belied by its ominous purpose. Unpredictably, the eyes of the dormant armor sparked to life, glowing with an unsettling crimson hue. With a supernatural agility that defied its massive form, the chaos champion stirred to life, deftly catching the airborne weapon. The subsequent unsheathing was executed with a macabre finesse that dispatched the marines in a mere heartbeat, leaving them bisected and lifeless upon the cold church floor. This sudden and brutal intervention sent seismic ripples through the remaining marines and the trio of enigmatic women, signaling an undeniable shift in the unfolding.

Commodore Smoker, attuned to the erratic nature of battlefields, acted with unnatural swiftness. Unsheathing his weapon, he struck at the enigmatic armor that defied classification. Unsurprisingly, the massive, animated suit of chaos appeared incapable of inflicting harm upon his ethereal, smoke-based form. A moment of relative ease, however, quickly devolved as an unexpected onslaught of discomfort seized Smoker. Uncharacteristically, he expelled a spray of blood, his typically composed demeanor ? He was a logia user ! A disconcerting revelation unfolded as he turned to face the source of this mysterious assault.

Behind him stood the orange-haired girl, her countenance contorted with anguish. She had unleashed an enigmatic, dark energy that had inflicted an unanticipated toll on Smoker. The air around them crackled with an otherworldly intensity, and the girl, seemingly drained, wept tears of blood. The confluence of supernatural forces and the resilience of the chaos warrior presented Smoker with a perplexing challenge, leaving him grappling with the uncertainties of this ethereal battleground.

Tashigi charged forward, her blade gleaming as she aimed for the three mysterious girls. However, before she could reach them, the colossal suit of armor intercepted her with unexpected speed. The clash of steel echoed through the air as the animated armor engaged in a fierce duel with the skilled swordswoman.

Simultaneously, the pink-haired girl underwent a supernatural transformation, her form shifting into an ethereal state that defied the laws of the physical world. Alongside her, the white-haired companion brandished a leather spiked whip, launching a relentless assault on the marines under Smoker's command. Their attacks were a whirlwind of chaos, disrupting the conventional order of battle and leaving the marines struggling to comprehend and counter the mysterious foes.


Perona and Agathe

Perona, her form ethereal and unsettling, moved through the chaos with an eerie grace. Her gaze met that of the marines, and a wave of terror washed over them. With a flick of her hand, ghostly apparitions materialized, each carrying a spectral scythe. The marines, frozen in fear, were defenseless against the onslaught of these otherworldly entities.

As the ghostly scythes swung through the air, ethereal blades met corporeal bodies. The spectral weapons, though intangible, inflicted a strange and unsettling pain on the marines. Their agonized cries echoed in the air as Perona reveled in the malevolent dance of her ghostly minions. She floated above the chaos, her laughter blending with the haunting symphony of the ethereal assault.

Agathe, the sadistic vampire, moved with lethal precision amidst the fray. Her movements were a blur, her predatory instincts guiding her to vulnerable targets. With each strike, she unleashed bursts of dark energy that sapped the life force from her victims. The marine defenses crumbled before her relentless onslaught. Agathe reveled in the screams of agony, her crimson eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

Despite the carnage, neither Perona nor Agathe sustained significant injuries. Their supernatural abilities allowed them to navigate the battlefield with an otherworldly finesse, avoiding the brunt of the marines' counterattacks. As the last echoes of the ethereal assault faded away, the two enigmatic figures stood amidst the fallen marines, a testament to the unholy alliance that had wrought devastation upon the unsuspecting foes.


Tahsigi

The colossal suit of armor, now animated by some eldritch force, presented itself as the last vestige of a champion from a forgotten era. The voice that emanated from within echoed with an eerie resonance, a chilling reminder of an ancient power long dormant.

"I am the echo of the Chaos Lord Utrecht, awakened by the blood pact forged with the Progenitor, and you will meet your demise for daring to oppose him," the voice intoned, a spectral cadence permeating the air.

The duel between Tashigi and the animated armor unfolded with a relentless intensity. Blades clashed, the sound of steel ringing through the air as the two adversaries engaged in a deadly dance. Tashigi's skill with the sword was evident, but the supernatural agility and strength of the enchanted armor proved to be a formidable challenge. Sparks flew as their weapons collided, each strike resonating with an otherworldly force.

The enchanted blade of the armor cut through the air with an ethereal precision, a dark gleam in its wake. Tashigi fought valiantly, parrying and dodging, but the eldritch champion's relentless assault proved overwhelming. Unnatural shadows seemed to dance around the armor, distorting reality in a grotesque display. Tashigi's movements became increasingly strained, the enchanted blade leaving a trail of malevolent energy as it grazed her defenses.

In a nightmarish turn of events, Tashigi found herself overpowered. The enchanted blade, wreathed in dark energy, descended with a swift and lethal arc. It sliced through Tashigi's defenses, leaving a deep and mortal wound that seemed to ooze with shadows. Her valiant efforts could not withstand the supernatural might of the ancient champion. The marine swordswoman fell, her life extinguished in the midst of this otherworldly clash.


Smoker

The battleground crackled with tension as Smoker faced off against the formidable duo of Nami and Auguste. The Marine Commodore moved with the fluidity of smoke, attempting to close in on one of his opponents. However, with each step, a barrage of spells and arcane incantations hindered his progress. Nami, and Auguste, wielding eldritch powers, created a web of magical barriers that kept Smoker at bay.

As Smoker lunged forward, Nami summoned gusts of wind to push him back, while Auguste unleashed dark energy to disrupt his movements. The dance of evasion and counterattack continued, each party testing the other's limits. The deadlock persisted for several intense minutes, the trio caught in a precarious balance of strategy and skill.

Amidst the magical skirmish, a distant scream echoed through the air. Smoker's attention flickered for a split second, the anguished cry pulling at his instincts as a Marine. Tashigi was in peril. The distraction proved costly as Nami seized the opportunity to conjure a powerful dark lightning, sending cascades surging towards Smoker. The Marine barely managed to transform into smoke to evade the worst of it, but the impact disrupted his focus.

The gut-wrenching scream of his subordinate, Tashigi, echoed in Commodore Smoker's ears, a haunting reminder of the cost paid on this chaotic battleground. Hastening towards the source of the distress, Smoker's heart sank as he discovered Tashigi's lifeless form on the blood-soaked ground.

Fury kindled in his eyes, a vow of vengeance taking root within Smoker's heart. Torn between duty and a personal connection forged in the crucible of battle, he clenched his fists in a silent promise. The trio, shrouded in mystery, had slipped away, leaving behind a fallen comrade and a seething determination in the Marine's soul.

With Tashigi's demise, the pursuit of justice intensified. Smoker's steely gaze bore witness to the trail of destruction left by those elusive adversaries. The swirling currents of fate had shifted, and vengeance became the driving force, propelling the Marine forward into the shadows cast by the enigmatic figures who had eluded his grasp.


Vampire Ship

The night air hung heavy with the weight of their recent battle, a somber backdrop as the group of five staggered towards their boat. Auguste, bearing Nami in his arms, felt the pulsating pain of his wounds, each step a testament to the toll exacted by their encounter. Nami, totally blind, had her vision robbed by the strain of her magical efforts. She clutched the accursed Second Book of Nagash tightly, her senses shrouded in an impenetrable darkness.

Their progress was an arduous march, the rhythmic footfalls punctuated by the occasional moans of the wounded and the palpable tension that surrounded them. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of blood and the ominous aura of the supernatural.

As they reached the boat, a vessel warped by eldritch influence, Agathe orchestrated a swift retreat. The vampire, her demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos that unfolded, barked orders with authoritative urgency, directing the silent assembly of more than sixty zombies, animated by an unnatural force, manned the oars with relentless efficiency. Agathe's commands sliced through the air, their boat gliding away like a phantom ship, leaving the pursuing marine vessels in its wake.


Vampire Ship

The first light of dawn painted the deck of the mysterious boat with an eerie glow, revealing the aftermath of the harrowing night. As the new day unfurled, Auguste, fueled by both pain and indignation, unleashed a storm of vulgar insults aimed at the marines they left behind. His words, a venomous symphony of disdain, echoed across the waves, a rebellious proclamation against the forces that sought to ensnare them.

"Smoker! Old dick! I shit in the whore who gave birth to you!"

Beside him, Nami, still blinded by the exertion of her magical powers, stood resolute. The bond formed between them in the crucible of chaos made them more than mere companions—it forged a family. Auguste's tirade, though loaded with profanity, carried the weight of protective fervor. Smoker had hurt her. The insults, a shield of defiance, were hurled towards the marine pursuers like a gauntlet cast in challenge.

The morning air crackled with a strange tension as the boat sailed through the dawning light. The whispers of the sea carried Auguste's expletive-laden defiance, a declaration that their newfound family, bound by blood and dark compacts, would not yield to the encroaching forces of authority and order. But it would yield to Perona Sarcasm.

Perona lounged on the vampiric boat, her ethereal form draped in an otherworldly elegance. With an air of spoiled arrogance, she looked down upon Auguste, her eyes revealing a glint of sadistic amusement. In her characteristically childish yet sinister tone, she began her monologue.

"Oh, look at you, Auguste! The mighty and arrogant vampire brought low. Too weak to handle a bunch of marines, how pathetic! You strut around like you own the seas, but when the real threat comes knocking, you crumble like a feeble mortal. You've put the von Carstein family in danger with your reckless pride."

She chuckled, reveling in the discomfort she inflicted upon him. "Did you think your little tantrum ? All you did was draw more attention to us. Now, they'll be relentless in their pursuit, and it's all thanks to your impulsive arrogance. You might fancy yourself a Lord but you're just a petulant child playing with powers you can't control."

Perona's words, cutting through the air with a cruel precision, left Auguste to grapple with the truth she laid bare. The spoiled princess reveled in her ability to wound, taking pleasure in exposing the vulnerabilities of the one who dared to lead the von Carstein family.

In a fit of rage, Auguste seized Perona's ethereal form, his grip tightening around her incorporeal essence. The vengeful glare in his eyes met her sadistic amusement as he began to strangle her, a crude reminder that even in the supernatural realm, she could not escape him : power had its brutal expressions.

"You think you can mock me and get away with it?" Auguste snarled, his voice dripping with anger. "You may be right, Perona, but don't forget your place. I am the father of this family, and I won't tolerate insolence. I am your Master !"

As the spectral princess struggled against the force around her, surprised he could touch her, Auguste's fury subsided into a cold determination. "From now on, we'll be more cautious. No more reckless displays of power attracting unnecessary attention. We train, we grow stronger, and we ensure that the von Carstein name becomes synonymous with fear on these seas. Understood?"

The grip loosened, and Perona, released from his wrathful hold, floated back. Auguste's eyes bore a stern resolve as he cast a meaningful gaze over the assembled members of the von Carstein family. The night had left scars, but it also birthed a newfound commitment to survival and dominance. The vampiric family would learn from their mistakes, train in the dark arts, and emerge more formidable than ever, ready to face the challenges that lay ahead.


Vampire Ship

In the dim-lit confines of their vampiric haven, the von Carstein family embarked on a month-long regimen of relentless training. Perona, the whimsical princess of the supernatural, reveled in her spectral powers, dancing through shadows and exploring the arcane depths that her ethereal form could manipulate.

Meanwhile, Agathe, the alluring Lahmian, and the Chaos Champion engaged in rigorous combat training. Each clash of blades resonated with a harmony of violence, as they honed their close-quarters combat skills. Auguste, the headstrong leader, frequently joined these sessions, weaving his eldritch Bathori Blade with a deadly grace.

In a corner, Nami, still blind, delved into the forbidden knowledge within the Second Book of Nagash. Auguste, using the mystical medallion, transferred the eldritch contents of the tome into her mind. Despite her visual impairment, Nami's magical prowess grew, her connection to the void expanding with each absorbed page.

In the eerie quietude of their vampiric abode, Auguste pondered the avenues through which he could accumulate more fear points. His eyes flickered with a calculating gleam as he envisioned quests that would propel the von Carstein family further into the shadows. His gaze lingered on Nami, who, despite her blindness, had become a formidable mage. Auguste's thoughts meandered toward the prospect of acquiring replacements for her eyes, a macabre transaction that might open new vistas of dark power for the blind navigator.

Days turned into nights, and the family's relentless pursuit of power forged a collective strength that echoed within the walls of their refuge. The haunting melodies of Perona's spectral play, the rhythmic clashes of blades in training, and the whispered incantations from Nami's magical studies created a symphony of dark arts that resonated throughout their newfound sanctuary.


Vampire Ship - Not very Explicit content - Not very explicit at the moment, but it's going to become more and more explicit in the following chapters. I'm marking explicit moments for people who want to skip them.

On the vampiric vessel, a peculiar night unfolded, shrouded in the mystique of an otherworldly revelry. The atmosphere pulsed with an eerie blend of eroticism and esoteric allure as each member of the von Carstein family donned enigmatic and seductive outfits, mirroring their supernatural nature.

Auguste, the young vampire with a strange mix of childlike charm and dark charisma, wore a suit pants with no shirt, revealing his muscled physique. His attire, though seemingly simple, emanated an alluring and dangerous aura that heightened the sensual tension of the night. His shirtless form accentuating well-defined muscles, moved with a sinuous grace that hinted at both power and sensuality. His chest, sculpted and bathed in the moonlight, radiated an otherworldly charm that captivated onlookers.

Nami, the blind but powerful dark mage, was draped in a gown made of shadows, the fabric clinging to her curves as if woven from the essence of the void itself. The dress shimmered with eldritch energy, and despite her lack of sight, Nami moved with a captivating grace that added to the alluring mystique of the evening. Her gown of shadows clinging to the curves of her body, highlighted the ethereal beauty that transcended her blindness. The fabric traced the contours of her ample bosom and accentuated the sway of her hips, contributing to an aura of mysterious allure.

Agathe, the alluring and mysterious mistress of the night, wore a tight corset adorned with symbols that seemed to pulse with dark energy. Her outfit accentuated her ethereal beauty, and the corset whispered ancient secrets to those who dared to gaze upon it, deepening the enchanting allure of the night. The garment emphasized her hourglass figure, the delicate curve of her waist drawing attention to the captivating allure of her form.

Perona, the spoiled and petulant ghost princess, donned a translucent nightgown that defied the laws of the living. The ghostly fabric billowed around her, adding an otherworldly quality to her presence. In her hand, she held a studded teddy bear, an odd accessory that added a whimsical yet macabre touch to her charm. Her translucent nightgown hinted at the contours of her alluring silhouette, adding a touch of supernatural sensuality to her ethereal presence.

In the midst of the vampiric revelry, an ancient figure stood still, a sentinel from a bygone era. Clad in armor that bore the scars of untold battles, the Old Champion observed the festivities with eyes that held the weight of centuries. His presence, though stationary, emanated a formidable aura, as if the very essence of time itself clung to his form. The intricate engravings on his armor whispered tales of victories and defeats long past, and his unmoving stature added an enigmatic layer to the surreal celebration. The Old Champion, a relic of a forgotten age, remained a stoic observer, his silent gaze piercing through the shadows, hinting at the depth of his ancient knowledge and the unfathomable mysteries that bound him to the vampiric family's nightmarish legacy.

The night unfolded in a bewitching display as the vampiric family engaged in a dance that transcended the boundaries of the sensual and the arcane. Auguste, his shirtless form a canvas for moonlight, initiated the ritual with sinuous movements, his hands tracing a path of tantalizing warmth across Agathe's enticing curves. Agathe, donned in a tight corset adorned with dark symbols, responded with undulating grace, her fingers entwining with Auguste's as they succumbed to the intoxicating rhythm.

Nami, her gown of shadows clinging to every contour, moved with an alluring sway, her fingertips caressing Perona's ghostly silhouette. Perona, draped in a translucent nightgown that billowed with spectral elegance, reciprocated the dance, her ethereal touch sending shivers through Nami's form. The interplay of their movements wove an intricate tapestry of desire and forbidden pleasure.

As the night deepened, the ship's deck became an arena for the mystic ballet, each member of the family exploring the boundaries of pleasure and power. Auguste and Agathe, lost in a trance of desire, shared intimate whispers amidst the arcane symbols. Nami and Perona, their dance more ethereal, exchanged touches that transcended the realms of the living and the dead.

Approaching Agathe, Nami's hands gently touched her face. Transcending the atmosphere, she lightly kissed the cheek of the ghost girl, Agathe feeling the warmth of Nami's lips on her cold skin. Agathe returned the kiss by planting one on Nami's neck. Nami then delicately removed the top of the translucent nightgown, revealing her breasts. Nearby, Auguste cast an eager gaze toward Perona, making a move. He grabbed her chin without gentleness and deeply kissed her.

Agathe and Nami continued their kiss. Meanwhile, Auguste ran his fingers over Perona's ghostly form, teasing the sensitive nub of her nipple. He gently caressed her nipples, feeling the ghostly flesh react against his touch, eliciting a moan from her.

Nami glided her fingers down Agathe's back, tracing along her spine and down to her buttocks. She seized the ghost girl's ass, feeling the taut muscles. Moving a hand around to the front, Nami began to stimulate Agathe's clitoris. Agathe's eyes closed as she moaned, overwhelmed by the sensations of Nami's touch. She was enveloped in ecstasy.

Perona ran her fingers up the back of Auguste's neck, entwining them in his hair. Pulling him in closer, she kissed him passionately.

"I want you to be in me," she whispered in his ear.

Auguste reciprocated the kiss, their tongues exploring each other.

"Yes, my little ghost," he replied.

Agathe's moans heightened as Nami's fingers delved into her wetness, the sensation building toward climax.

Perona began to kiss Auguste's neck and chest, her tongue gliding across his muscular torso. She yearned to feel him intimately intertwined with her.


The following, morning, they would pass Reverse Mountain.

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