Secrets of the Sea

D'veen Prelude Three

Image: Zoltan Tasi via Unsplash

The Tavern was filled to the brim with drunken travelers, warriors, and all manner of others who had found their way to its location on the shores of the Aesetic sea, beyond which lay the Endarian Expanse.

I sat in the back corner, with a table all to myself. Not a soul knew that they were in the presence of Finton Merrybrook, the greatest storyteller in all of D’veen, and that was precisely my intention.

I had just finished interrogating a pirate out by the dock, and now I was mere feet from my target.

I fixed my eyes on a man who towered above all the others around him at the bar. His skin was unique, covered in emerald scales that glimmered in the low light of the torches that lined the walls of the tavern.

Golden hoops swung from his reptilian ears as he laughed through a mouth full of sharp teeth. A group of humans and halfings surrounded him, all eagerly awaiting his next tale.

Even the barmaid looked at him longingly as she pretended to wipe the bartop with a dirty rag.

Much like Melissari the elf, Jameson Netherwave was a rare sight. He was a Meldoch, part of an ancient race that once lived on an island nation off the shores of D’veen.

According to legend, their entire island sank to the bottom of the Expanse after a terrible disaster long ago.

Meldochs could still be found in tiny fishing villages along the shores of the realm, but are otherwise a rare sight indeed.

In fact, Jameson and his crew were composed of many of D’veens' forgotten races.

They were also the only pirates left in the realm. Very few were brave enough to set out into the waters of the Endarian Expanse, let alone survive long enough to tell the tale.

I would never admit this to anyone, but I was a little jealous of the pirate's charisma. Of course, I had heard the tales of the great Jameson Netherwave, but seeing him in the flesh was quite the sight.

"Go on, then, tell us about the Titan Mechanark. You've been promising to tell that story all night!" one of the drunken halflings said, standing on the tips of his toes in a futile effort to look threatening.

Jameson slammed down his wooden mug. It hit the bartop with a hollow thud.

"Aye, I'll give you the tale you seek, but first I'll need another drink. My body is a machine that turns grog into stories, after all!"

The group erupted with laughter as several listeners slammed down coins to pay for the pirate's next drink.

The barmaid obliged, filling Jameson's cup to the brim. Jameson took a swig before staring off into the distance. I recognized the glint of inspiration in his eyes.

"This ought to be good," I said, taking a sip from my own drink.

I listened closely, committing the tale to memory as I have done countless times before. So, get yourself a drink, get comfortable, and listen to this pirate’s tall tale…

---

It all started about two Chronas ago. Jameson Netherwave and his crew were sailing the Endarian Expanse. The shores of D'veen were a distant memory.

They sought treasures long buried beneath the waves—secrets the Titans had left behind, now guarded by the old gods of the realm.

That day, the sun was shining bright overhead, and sure as the sea was blue, Jameson spotted the glimmer of something peeking just above the waves.

He had eyes like a hawk, you see. All of his people do. It’s why they’re such accomplished anglers.

Jameson ran to the bow of the ship and brandished his scope for a better look. Sure enough, he saw the glint of gold and the shimmering aura of ancient magic. This was precisely the prize they sought.

"That's the one, boys! Go straight ahead, then drop the anchor. It's time to show you what the Titans have been keeping hidden from us!"

For countless Chronas, as a young lad, Jameson grew up hearing stories about the strange tools of the Aluthian Titans—powerful machines that wove science and technology together like a seamstress weaves a tapestry.

The Titans used these incredible machines to fashion the realm. They formed mountains, carved valleys from plains, and brought the Old Gods to heel.

And so, they sailed right up to that tiny glint above the waves, and all the lads ran to the side of the ship to look down at the prize.

The water was crystal clear that day, and you could see nearly to the bottom. Beneath that serene surface, a machine stood at attention—a device known throughout legend as a Titan Mechanark.

It was a metallic monstrosity, shaped like a man, but as tall as a hundred men stacked on each other's shoulders, and strong enough to reshape the realm.

It was also filled with parts that would fetch a fine price on the shores of D'veen. Titan technology was even more valuable than Verack artifacts, you see.

The crew couldn't believe their eyes.

"That's the biggest machine I've ever seen!" they cried.

It's true. Such a machine could topple a kingdom without so much as breaking a sweat, but fortunately for the kings of the realm, Jameson had no interest in conquest.

He looked up from the waves and scanned the horizon. He knew it wasn't going to be easy. These things were always guarded.

"Keep an eye out while I take a look!" Jameson shouted, right before he dove into the icy water.

The moment he broke the surface of the sea, Jameson felt the water around him shake. Something stirred deep beneath the Titan Mechanark.

He swam toward the head of the machine, and its surface suddenly lit up. He could see himself reflected in the visor stretched across the front of the machine’s face.

The shimmering surface turned transparent. Within, Jameson saw a throne of metal and wires. He pressed his hands against the glass, and to his surprise, he fell through as if there were nothing there at all.

He landed inside, saltwater still dripping from my skin.

"Time to see how this works!" Jameson said, throwing himself into the metal throne.

The second his skin made contact with the frigid surface, he felt the ancient magic surge through him.

It was like lightning in his veins. His arms became its arms, and their legs moved as one. Where he looked, it looked. Jameson could feel the uneven ground of the ocean floor beneath his feet.

With the Mechanark and himself moving as one, Jameson climbed up the slope and felt the salty air on his skin as the head of the machine emerged from the depths.

Below, the crew of the ship scurried across the deck like mere insects.

"How do you like me now?" Jameson roared. His voice projected through the mouth of the Mechanark and echoed across the waves.

The men all cheered. Jameson looked up at the horizon behind them and took in the sight. It was the most beautiful view of the Endarian Expanse he had ever seen.

"Proximity alert!" a strange voice shouted. It seemed to be speaking directly in Jameson’s mind. He didn't know what it meant, but he soon figured it out.

A tentacle curled around the waist of the Mechanark. Jameson looked down and saw the shimmering purple skin of the sea beast.

It pulled him backward, and he lost his footing. The Mechanark crashed beneath the waves, landing on its back in the ocean depths.

Above, Jameson saw the flash of cannonfire and heard muffled explosions coming from above the surface.

He turned the Mechanark around to get a look at his adversary.

It was indeed one of the old gods of D'veen. The name escaped him; he didn't pay much attention in school.

It had six legs, three on each side, and atop those legs sat a mass of poisonous spines. In the center of it all, a trio of tentacles emerged like gigantic serpents.

Jameson swam forward, closing the distance before stepping onto an underwater ridge and breaking the surface once more.

Cannonfire erupted all around, tearing off chunks of flesh from the writhing tentacles.

"Please select a weapon," the strange voice from before asked.

Jameson looked down at the Mechanark’s hands. "Got any cannons on this thing?" he asked.

"Yamondo cannons activated," the voice replied.

He grinned from ear to ear as the metal hands retracted into the Mechanark’s wrists.

Hollow barrels emerged from both arms. Red lightning crackled across the edges.

Jameson charged forward, swinging both of the Mechanark’s arms to knock the tentacles off balance. He leapt into the air and crashed down on the spines covering the sea beast's body with a sickening crunch.

In the center, between the tentacles, he saw the mouth of the thing beneath the waves. It was wide open, shaped like a beak.

"Open wide!" Jameson shouted, pointing both cannons down towards the mouth.

"FIRE!"

Twin beams of crimson light shot down into the water, turning it to steam in the blink of an eye. He watched as the energy scalded the skin of the tentacles before finally tearing its way into the beast's mouth.

A scream that shook the very foundations of D'veen echoed through the air.

“AGAIN!”

The cannons fired another blast. The beast beneath still screamed.

“AGAIN!”

"Danger! Core overload imminent!" the voice cried.

“Titans damn you, I SAID FIRE!”

The cannons hurled another blast of pure energy into the mouth of the old god. The final blast tore a hole clean through it. Jameson could see the ocean floor through the gaping wound in the seasbeast’s body.

“Emergency protocols engaged,” the strange voice said.

Jameson’s connection to the Mechanark severed, and he was back in his body. He stood up and looked around for anything he could take with him. Something to sell, a souvenir, or at the very least proof that he had indeed seen and piloted a Mechanark.

“Core overload in thirty seconds.”

Jameson ran to the glass wall he had entered from and placed his hands against it. Once more, he fell through into the sea, but this time, the water was warm and growing warmer.

He swam back to the ship. The moment he broke the surface, he shouted at the men to ready the sails and pull up the anchor.

Jameson fell onto the deck as they scrambled around him. One of them stopped to help him up. He looked out into the water, and for the first time in a very long time, Jameson Netherwave was afraid.

In all his many Chronas sailing the Endarian Expanse, he had never seen the waters of the ocean boil like a kettle awaiting tea, but that day, he saw steam rising from the surface as the waves bubbled and churned.

He had to get out of there, and fast.

"Faster, damn you! We need to live so we can tell this tale!” Jameson shouted.

He ran to the back of the ship and spun the wheel to the right. The wind whipped violently around them.

Jameson turned to look back just as a blinding flash brighter than the realm's sun nearly blinded him. A column of water shot into the air, nearly touching the clouds before it came crashing down.

Towering waves followed in its wake, carving a path toward the ship with a vengeance Jameson had rarely seen in his time on the water.

"Brace for impact!"

The waves crashed into the ship from behind, lifting it into the air like a toy boat. The ship came crashing back down.

Jameson fell onto the wet deck and hit his head hard against the surface. His ears rang as he pulled himself back up. He was relieved to see that he and his crew had all been mercifully spared by the vengeful wake.

He could only imagine how the people of D’veen would react when they heard this tale of what had happened that day.

---

Jameson finished yet another drink and set down his mug with a satisfied grin.

"And that is the tale of how I faced one of the Old Gods of D'veen."

The small crowd that surrounded him stood in stunned silence. One of the drunken halflings let out a dissatisfied scoff.

"What a load of dragon shite!"

I held back a chuckle as shock and anger painted Jameson's face.

"You dare question the veracity of my tale?" he asked.

Another one of the halflings in the group slid off her barstool and shook her head.

"I was hoping for more romance like your last story. Too much action in that one," she said, walking away.

Jameson's eyes scanned the room as more and more of his listeners dispersed. I almost felt bad for him. Seeing an opportunity to approach, I stood up and walked over to the bar, slapping down a pair of coins as I arrived.

"A drink for my fellow storyteller and me, if you please."

The barmaid set down two full pints on the bar. I picked up one and handed the other to the flabbergasted pirate who still sat stunned beside me.

"Oh, come now, cheer up! It was a good story," I said, trying to hide my amusement.

"You believe me, don't you, bard?" Jameson asked.

"Naturally, but only because I've seen the Mechanarks you speak of. In fact, I helped design them."

Jameson let out a groan and took a gulp of his fresh drink. "Great, and now I'm sharing a drink with a madman."

I smiled. "I may be mad, but I am no man. That is neither here nor there, though. I come bearing an offer for you and your men."

I reached into my pouch and pulled out a roll of parchment, setting it down gently on the bartop.

"I don't do contracts," Jameson said, pushing the parchment away from him.

"Trust me, you'll want to read this one. Otherwise, you may end up like your poor crewman that I finished interrogating just now."

Jameson turned and scowled, baring his rows of thin fangs.

"You've got a death wish, bard!"

Jameson grabbed me by the collar of my tunic and lifted me off the ground. I could smell the grog on his breath.

"Careful now. From what I understand, you and your men are fugitives in the lands of D'veen. Wouldn't want to draw too much attention to yourself, now would you? You may have plenty of friends in this tavern, but I suspect the townfolk outside wouldn’t be happy to know D’veen’s deadliest pirate and his crew walk in their midst."

Jameson growled and set me down. He picked up the parchment and unfurled it. His golden irises danced across the terms within.

"Where does a bard get this kind of coin?" He asked.

"You have your secrets and I have mine. Did you see the part about clearing your name? I know you love the sea, but wouldn't it be nice for you and your men to walk the lands of D'veen as free men?" I asked.

Jameson set the contract down on the bartop. The anger faded from his face as he contemplated the terms. "Fine. I’ll sign it.”

Jameson drew a dagger from the hilt on his waist. He pressed his fingertip against the apex of the blade and held the open wound over the bottom of the parchment.

I smiled as a drop of blood splashed against the page. Once it had soaked in, I snatched the contract and rolled it back up.

"Wonderful, wonderful! I appreciate you making this easy for me. Tracking you down has been quite the task."

Jameson turned back to his drink. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for them.” Jameson turned to glance at a group nearby playing cards at a table. “My men deserve a chance at a normal life. You had better keep your end of the deal, bard."

I nodded as I stood up. "You needn't worry about that. Finish your drinks and then set sail for the shores near Titanum Forest. The others will be waiting for you when you arrive. I, of course, will be there as well."

"Others?" Jameson asked.

"Why, of course! You are now a part of a prestigious group of D'veen's finest warriors. Welcome, my friend, to the Order of the Pawn!"

Jameson grunted. "Lovely. This just gets better and better."

I slapped a hand on the pirate's back. "Cheer up, friend! There will be plenty of gold and glory for you and your men. This is going to be fun!"

Jameson nodded and went back to his drink.

I knew he didn't trust me, but for the first time in a long time, I’d like to think he felt a spark of hope in the depths of his cold heart.

And that prospect, in and of itself, was a tale that even I could scarcely believe.

---

Jameson Netherwave Will Return…

Stay tuned for more news on The Order of the Pawn, a new series set in the realm of D’veen, coming soon…

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