The atmosphere in Marley's Inn grew taut with trepidation as the pirate stranger claimed a seat at the bar. Casually tossing a few silver coins onto the counter, he called for a beer. Slowly, the diverse assembly of patrons and creatures resumed their activities, adopting an air of feigned nonchalance. In Ravenside, minding one's own business was a cardinal rule.
Descending the creaky wooden steps, I approached the bar where the stranger sat. His black hair was surprisingly elegant, and he exuded the pungent, skunky aroma of a potent, earthy herb—an herb I would come to know well in later years, but that is a story for another time. Before I could speak, the stranger fixed me with a penetrating gaze, beckoning me closer with a crooked finger. Bending down, I heard him whisper, "You're a damned one, aren't you, boy? I can sense the energy of that ruby ring—such a vile aura." Recoiling in shock, I demanded, "Who are you? And why did you kill that man outside?"
"I am the most infamous space pirate in all the cosmos," he boasted. "Some call me The Star Thief, others know me as Darby the Saint—though I assure you, I am far from saintly." My flat, uninterested tone belied any concern as I replied, "I've never heard of you." Darby's expression registered surprise at my admission, and in truth, I doubted anyone at the inn recognized his name. "You all need to explore more," he grumbled, taking a swig of his beer, his earlier bravado momentarily deflated. For a cold-blooded killer, he seemed an oddly whimsical character.
"The man I killed outside was a bounty I'd been pursuing for years. My search led me to this wretched city, and once I've regained my composure, I'll return to my ship and leave this forsaken place far behind," Darby explained, his languid eyes betraying a weariness that hinted he might fall asleep at any moment. "How do you know I'm damned and about my ruby ring?" I pressed. "My boy, you do ask a lot of questions, don't you? It may have been mere coincidence that I landed on this forsaken planet, but when you've traversed the cosmos as extensively as I have, you learn things—and you encounter people...and gods. I presume Orphease deceived you," Darby said, a knowing grin spreading across his face.
"Regrettably, yes. I had nothing else going for me. How do you know of Orphease? Are you damned as well?" I asked, a pained expression etched upon my face. Darby chuckled, placing his empty beer mug on the table. His demeanor shifted, his voice growing cold and dark. "Orphease was once my god. My poor boy, you must be experiencing unimaginable torment," he sympathized.
"You used to serve Orphease?" I asked, my shock evident. "How did you manage to free yourself?" I pleaded for an answer. "Free?" Darby's smile returned as he lit a hand-rolled cigarette. It emitted that peculiar herbal scent I had noticed earlier. "It's a lengthy tale, lad, but suffice it to say, I no longer bow before any god. I performed my deeds and earned my way out." He paused, his gaze drifting toward the window as the strange smoke wafted from his mouth.
"Can you help me?" I implored. Darby appraised me curiously. "There might be a way... but it would be an exceedingly arduous task, a monumental challenge indeed," he murmured. "What must I do?" I inquired, desperation tingeing my voice. Darby's laughter subsided as he locked eyes with me, his gaze piercing my very soul. "You must slay him... and become him," he declared.
I stood there, speechless, unable to form words. The thought of how I could possibly slay a god seemed unfathomable. "My boy, why do you look so ashen?" Darby chortled, choking on his smoke. "How could I kill a god?" I inquired. "Well, obviously, you couldn't possibly defeat a god in your current state, nor with the weapons and armor you presently possess. Don't get ahead of yourself," he smirked. However, I was resolute. It was a mission I had to undertake, even if it demanded years of arduous dedication. And indeed, many years it did take.
Darby took a long, slow drag on his herbal cigarette, his eyes narrowing as he exhaled a thick plume of smoke, watching it curl and dissipate in the air. "I've seen others with Orphease's mark on them, but none quite like you," he murmured, his tone carrying an edge of admiration. "I recognize that fire in you, lad. You may just have the grit to find what I couldn't—or perhaps even take down what I dared not try again." His words hung in the air, a curious mix of warning and invitation.
I narrowed my gaze, absorbing the weight behind his words. "What are you saying?"
He leaned closer, his eyes glinting with a strange intensity. "Join me, Leon. The cosmos holds knowledge you won't find in this cursed pit of a city. I'm offering you a chance to travel beyond these streets, to face what lies in the darkest corners of existence. Maybe—just maybe—you'll find the power to free yourself from him." His gaze flicked down to the ruby ring. "But it'll take more than courage. It'll take sacrifice, and gods know what else."
His words stirred something within me, something that both terrified and thrilled me. "And what do you get out of it?" I asked, wary of hidden motives.
Darby smiled, a slow, secretive grin. "Let's just say...I have unfinished business with Orphease. And it's about time someone reminded him he's not untouchable." He paused, the faintest trace of bitterness coloring his expression. "You may be the one who can finish what I started, lad. But that choice is yours to make."
He took one final drag, exhaled, and extinguished his cigarette. "So, meet me at the docks tomorrow, noon. Together, we'll carve our own path through the stars. Or stay here, if you'd rather wither in this forsaken city." With that, he rose, leaving me to wrestle with a decision that could change the course of my fate.
I wrestled with the monumental decision for hours, pacing my chamber, my mind a battlefield between two sides of myself. Part of me yearned to break free of this place, to explore the cosmos and discover if there was more to existence than blood and darkness. Yet each time I moved closer to resolve, the ruby ring pulsed with a slow, insistent heat, a smoldering that crawled up my arm and seemed to coil around my heart, squeezing tighter with every beat. It was as though Orphease himself were binding me here, rooting me to Ravenside's dark underbelly.
The ring's heat intensified, filling the room with the faint, acrid scent of burning flesh, though my skin was unscathed. I gritted my teeth, fighting against the sensation, but it only grew stronger, the throbbing beat matching the rhythm of my own pulse. Every time I thought of the freedom that awaited beyond the city's walls, the ring's hold on me tightened, as if reminding me of the cost of escape. Orphease's presence loomed, a shadow pressing against my mind, whispering that I belonged to him, that my fate lay in bloodshed, not in the freedom of the stars.
I clenched my fist around the ring, feeling the fiery pulse beneath my knuckles. "You will not control me," I muttered, though my voice wavered, as if the ring could hear my doubt.
The temptation to join Darby lingered, a fragile hope straining against Orphease's relentless pull. I felt as though I were dangling over an abyss, one hand stretched toward freedom while the other remained tethered to a curse that would never let me go. I sank into my chair, my pulse still throbbing in time with the ring's sinister beat, and stared out the window, knowing that no matter what I chose, the specter of Orphease would haunt me still.
Midnight settled heavily over the city, the full moon casting a cold, spectral light through the narrow gaps between the buildings. I lay in bed, exhausted but sleepless, when the ring began to pulse—a deep, ominous beat that resonated with my own heartbeat, until it felt like my very blood was on fire.
The pulse grew louder, the sound filling my mind, drowning out my thoughts with a maddening, relentless rhythm. "No," I whispered, pressing my hand against the ring as if I could silence it through sheer force of will. But the ring's answer was a vicious surge of heat, burning from my finger to my spine, spreading like wildfire through my veins. I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to scream.
"Get up," the ring commanded, its voice scraping against my mind, demanding obedience. I struggled, clutching at my head as if I could block out the sound, but it was no use. The voice only grew louder, insistent. "It's time to feed."
"No," I choked, fighting to hold on to my own will, to keep control of my own body. But my limbs moved as if pulled by invisible strings. I was out of bed, stumbling toward the door, each step heavier than the last, my heart pounding in protest. I wanted to stop, to turn back, to tear the cursed ring from my finger, but I couldn't. My legs carried me forward, down the stairs, and out into the chill of the midnight air.
Pain lanced through my spine, radiating outwards until every muscle felt like it was tearing apart. The pain was blinding, a white-hot agony that forced me into the shadows of a dark alleyway. My hand clawed at the brick wall, fingers scraping against the rough stone as I tried to steady myself. I stumbled, tripping over a pile of trash, my body convulsing as the ring's hunger grew sharper, more demanding. "Feed us," it whispered, the words pressing into my skull, warping my mind until the voice was all I could hear.
I gripped my head, trying to hold on to any shred of sanity, any memory that could pull me back from the edge. For a fleeting moment, I saw her face—the girl I had slain, her wide, terrified eyes staring back at me in horror. "This isn't what I wanted," I gasped, but the darkness was relentless, swallowing her memory in an instant, leaving nothing but emptiness and a hunger that was not my own.
The shadows around me shifted, and I heard footsteps echo down the alley. I looked up, seeing a group of four merchants—Furbos, their fur-covered faces and wide, orange eyes catching the dim light. One of them, smaller and more curious than the rest, took a cautious step forward, his eyes filled with sympathy.
"Are you all right, boy?" he asked, his voice soft, and he reached out a hand, resting it on my shoulder.
"Rudon, let's leave him. The kid looks no good," warned another Furbo, tugging at his companion's shoulder. "Leave me, please, for your own sake," I snarled, but it was too late. I plunged my blade into the heart of the nearest Furbo, his gaze locked with mine as the ring consumed his soul.
"No, please, leave!" I cried out to the remaining Furbos, my voice raw with desperation. But my hands, guided by Orphease's will, moved with ruthless precision, drawing Dream Ender and firing three shots in quick succession. The bullets found their marks, each one exploding into the heads of the fleeing Furbos, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps before me.
I sank to my knees, my hands trembling, my heart racing as a low, hysterical laugh bubbled up from deep within me. It was a laugh devoid of joy, edged with anger and regret, twisted and fractured. The night air felt heavy with the scent of blood and death, and for a moment, I didn't know whether the laugh was mine or Orphease's—a madness that felt like it belonged to us both.
Staggering to my feet, I glanced down at my blood-stained hands, feeling an emptiness settle over me, hollow and unyielding. The ring pulsed, satisfied, and Orphease's voice slithered through my mind. "Surrender to my desires, and your life will be easier."
"Damn you, Orphease," I muttered through clenched teeth, feeling like a madman, my voice raw with fury. "I will conquer this madness." Yet even as I spoke, the echo of my laugh lingered, mocking me, as though Orphease had already claimed my soul and was merely waiting for me to accept it.
I returned to Marley's Inn long past the witching hour. The establishment buzzed with life, throngs of orcs and other mythical beings reveling in drink and conversation. But I had no time for pleasantries. My resolve had hardened: I needed to escape this god-forsaken planet and search for a purpose beyond my servitude to Orphease.
Ascending to my room, I went unnoticed by Marley, preoccupied with his patrons. The following morning, I awoke with the dawn, donned my armor, and gathered my weapons.
I left five gold coins on the nightstand—more than Marley would expect and certainly more than I owed. For a moment, I stared at the small pile, wondering if any amount could truly repay him for the unspoken kindness he'd shown me, the way he looked past the darkness in my eyes without judgment. I scrawled a quick note, the words feeling stiff and unnatural in my hand:
Thank you, Marley, for your kindness. I'm leaving, uncertain if I'll ever return. I wish you the best... Yours, Leon.
I set down the pen, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me like a shroud. This wasn't just a departure; it was an end to whatever fleeting sense of humanity I'd clung to in this place. Marley's Inn had been the last refuge I'd known, a place where, for a few nights, I could pretend to be someone less broken. I despised farewells—I always had. And yet, leaving without acknowledgment felt impossible. It was the last gesture of decency left in me, a small shard of gratitude I could offer before setting out into the unknown.
As I stood in the quiet room, the sounds of the inn's late-night revelry faintly echoing below, a pang struck my chest, an ache I hadn't expected. The walls around me held memories I'd never forget, echoes of a life that had once felt familiar, even in its misery. I wondered if I'd ever see this place again or if the path I'd chosen would leave me forever lost to the man I used to be.
With a final glance, I stepped away, the feeling of Marley's Inn fading behind me with every step, a part of my past dissolving into shadows. I didn't look back as I walked out the door and into the dimly lit street. The air was thick with the scent of the sea, mingling with the grit and decay of the city I'd called home. A final thought whispered through my mind: Am I leaving to find freedom, or am I walking further into my own damnation?
Stepping out of the inn, I felt a pang in my chest, as though it might be the last time I'd pass through those doors. I strode towards the east side of the city, where a colossal watchtower loomed, its neon lights flashing a mesmerizing array of colors. Beneath it lay the docks, an advanced, floating marvel above the ocean. There, vessels meant for sea voyages mingled with space pirate ships destined for the cosmos.
I navigated the winding path toward the docks, where countless ships from all corners of the galaxy lay moored. As I rounded a final bend, I spotted Darby, sporting his usual cocky grin as he attempted to charm an elven woman with fiery red hair and an equally fiery disposition.
"My lady, how may I be at your service?" he purred, his hand reaching for hers. She slapped his hand away with a disdainful glare. "I don't need any of your services, you creep," she snapped before vanishing into the crowd, leaving Darby to nurse his bruised pride.
"You alright?" I asked, fighting back a smirk.
Darby rubbed his cheek, wincing but unperturbed. "As fine as I'll ever be, boy. Now, this way. The crew's boarding, and we shouldn't keep them waiting." He led me past bustling merchants and fellow spacefarers, the din of voices and machinery fading as we reached a more secluded docking area. A security robot scanned us with a whirring of gears, its cold, mechanical voice stating, "Check completed."
And then I saw her.
The Crimson Lady loomed ahead, an immense silhouette against the faint glow of the morning. She was a thing of legends, and as we drew closer, the ship's details sharpened before my eyes. Dark red and midnight black, her hull gleamed like polished obsidian, and the sharp lines of her design gave her an aura of lethal elegance. Orbs of magical energy, encased in shimmering protective shields, pulsed within the ship's core, casting an otherworldly light that flickered along the surface like embers in the dark.
I reached out, almost without thinking, and let my hand brush against the hull. The metal was ice-cold beneath my fingers, a chill that seeped through my skin and up my arm, grounding me in the reality of this colossal beast before me. I half-expected the ship to react, to pulse beneath my touch as though she were alive. Instead, she remained still, indifferent to the awe of yet another soul daring to lay hands upon her.
The faint hum of energy buzzed from within, a low, thrumming sound that made the air around her vibrate. Every cannon, lined in perfect formation along her sides, looked like it could decimate a fleet with a single blast. The red skull on the sails leered down at me, its hollow eye sockets marked with crude X's, as if to warn any who dared come close. The weight of the ship's presence bore down on me, immense and inescapable, a reminder of the power that coursed through her veins.
"This," Darby announced with a sweeping gesture, "is the Crimson Lady, my one true beloved." His voice held a rare reverence, an almost worshipful tone as he gazed at the ship.
A surge of excitement coursed through me, mingled with an instinctual fear. I had spent countless nights gazing up at ships like this from the dark alleys of Ravenside, and now I was about to board one. I wondered if my heart could keep up with the pounding in my chest, if I could handle the thrill and terror coiled in equal parts within me. The Crimson Lady was no mere ship—she was freedom, and she was danger, an unforgiving mistress that promised everything and nothing.
"How did you come by her?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Darby grinned, twirling the end of his mustache with pride. "Won her in a bet—my life was the wager." His grin widened. "Now, come along. It's time to introduce you to the crew."
As we ascended the steps and climbed the ladder to the deck, I felt every tremor of the ship beneath me, every hum of energy thrumming in my bones. It was like stepping into another world, one that existed beyond anything Ravenside's filth had ever offered. The deck was carved with intricate symbols, old-world designs mingling with high-tech circuitry. It was a seamless blend of past and future, a ship out of legend anchored in the flesh and steel of the present.
"All assemble!" Darby bellowed, his voice echoing across the deck. Six men gathered instantly, their eyes sharp and eager. "Ahoy, Captain!" they shouted in unison, saluting him.
Darby turned to me, his gaze both proud and dangerous. "And this," he said, his voice lowering to a near-whisper, "is where your real journey begins, lad."
"Orecon B, sir. We have a bounty there," a short, stocky man with a buzz cut and scars peppering his arms and face informed us. His hardened demeanor suggested he was not one to trifle with. "The planet is lushful jungle, but rumors abound of an elven trafficking operation hidden amidst the rubble. Our target is the leader, ZoZo Lugar. He's a red orc – a highly dangerous individual, heavily guarded, and wanted dead or alive."
"Well done, Zig," Darby commended. "Everyone, we have a guest joining us on our journey. This is Leon. Treat him well, but don't be too soft on him – he's capable of cutting you down." Darby winked as he introduced me to the crew, ushering me into a world of adventure and danger that would change my life forever.