Aiden Porte
Balun Dashiell
Saram Kote
Old Man Leonis
The night sky over Doan was a blanket of stars, shining bright above the Coalition's gathering forces, yet down below, the pirates were blissfully unaware of the impending storm. The air of celebration filled the stronghold's courtyard as pirates lounged about, bottles of fine wine lifted in cheer, their laughter echoing across the once-proud estate. Some leaned against the crumbling walls, while others swayed on unsteady feet, too deep in their cups to care. The stronghold, hidden high in the mountainous region, seemed secure, a fortress of stone and defiance—yet blind to the danger stalking it.
Diodoros
The courtyard was a chaotic mix of drunken pirates and the clinking of bottles.
Jackie navigated through the rowdy crowd, balancing a tray with a fresh bottle and goblet for Diodoros. His heart raced as he approached the captain, his small frame trying to avoid the attention of the rowdy pirates.
He finally reached Diodoros and stood there for a moment, nervously adjusting his grip on the tray. His voice shook as he spoke, trying to keep steady.
"S-sorry for the wait, Captain... I brought the best we have left."
He uncorked the bottle with trembling hands, the cork popping free after a brief struggle. As the liquid flowed into the goblet, Jackie glanced up quickly, catching a glimpse of Diodoros' intense gaze before looking down again. His hands quivered slightly, but he managed to fill the goblet without spilling.
"H-here you go, Captain." He extended the goblet carefully, hoping that everything had been done just right.
As soon as the goblet left his hands, Jackie took a small step back, unsure of whether to stay or leave, his eyes darting briefly to the other pirates nearby, who were still snickering at his nervousness. His voice was softer now, almost a murmur, as he added,
"Anything else I can do for you, Captain?"
Jackie remained motionless, awaiting any further orders, his feet itching to scurry away but knowing better than to leave without permission.
Kaaba and Mi
Inside the stronghold, Captain Dirk made his way through the dimly lit corridors toward the prison cells. Dirk was a towering figure, broad-shouldered and heavily muscled, with a shaggy mane of dark hair streaked with gray. His weathered face bore the scars of countless battles, and his right eye glowed with a faint, mechanical red light—a cybernetic implant replacing what had been lost in a skirmish long ago. His appearance was intimidating, a pirate who had clearly seen his fair share of conflict. He carried himself with a cocky swagger, his heavy boots clanging with every step, echoing ominously through the halls.
As he reached the cells, Dirk leaned casually against the bars, his cybernetic eye narrowing as he scanned the captives huddled inside. A cruel grin spread across his rugged face, revealing a row of chipped, yellowed teeth. He lazily tapped a finger against the bars, the sound sharp and deliberate.
"Well, well, well... look what we have here," Dirk drawled, his deep voice rough like gravel but laced with mockery.
"Hope you're enjoying the hospitality." He let his gaze linger on the prisoners, watching their reactions as he chuckled to himself.
"I trust the chains aren't too tight, eh?"
Stepping closer, Dirk lowered his voice, almost conspiratorial.
"You know, most of my guests don’t get the honor of a personal visit from the captain. But me?" He threw his arms wide theatrically, his mechanical eye whirring faintly.
"I’m a people person. I like to see who I’m dealing with."
He prowled along the row of cells, sizing up the captives with an air of detached amusement.
"Now, let’s make this a little more interesting, shall we?" He stopped in front of one of the prisoners, flashing them a sly grin.
"How about a game? First one to give me something useful—anything I can work with—gets an extra ration tonight. Slop, sure, but it’s better than what you’re getting now."
Dirk laughed darkly, watching for any signs of fear or desperation in their eyes.
"Come on, don’t be shy. Just a friendly chat between... well, maybe not friends. But let's say acquaintances."
He leaned back, crossing his massive arms over his chest, his grin never fading.
"Or maybe you’re holding out hope that someone’s coming to save you? Hate to break it to you, but you’re all alone here. We’ve got the high ground, the firepower, and your precious little lives hanging by a thread."
Dirk let the silence stretch, relishing the tension in the air before adding with a wicked smirk,
"So, here’s the deal—talk, or don’t talk. Either way, it’s all the same to me. Tick-tock, tick-tock..."
Satisfied with his taunts, Dirk turned on his heel, his heavy boots thudding as he moved toward the door. Before exiting, he glanced back over his shoulder, his cybernetic eye glinting in the low light.
"Think it over. I’ll be back later, and maybe then, one of you will be in a more... talkative mood." He gave a final chuckle before disappearing down the corridor, leaving the prisoners with his words echoing in their minds.
