The Ashes of Radoon

Prologue

Prologue

The Pirate town Radoon was a bustling place full of people far and near. It was one of the few locations where differences were set aside, and pirates of all sorts were welcome.

Underminer stalls ran along dusty paths where owners shouted cheap prices trying to grab the attention of passersby. Of course, Reinhardt knew buying such items was illegal by the King's Order. Did that stop him from purchasing a souvenir? Absolutely not.

Besides, Underminer vendors always sold top notch goods. They had a knack for collecting priceless artifacts, parts, mechanisms, and more. Not to mention countless treasures stowed away in personal vaults underground. Though it was common knowledge that Underminers were a rich faction, most pirates (including Reinhardt) had never ventured to Underminer territory. Only a few maps of their territory existed and all of them depicted long, intricate, or confusing tunnel systems.

In truth, the entire population reminded Reinhardt of rodents, from lifestyle, to appearance, to mannerisms, and personality. In fact, almost all Underminers had at least one of the following traits: extra eyes, large hands, pointed ears, slender frames, double joints, widened pupils, and a superb sense of smell. Each of these characteristics evolved overtime to aid in navigation beneath the earth's surface. Long story short, Underminers were an interesting lot. Even without their confusing appearances their unique personalities, speech patterns, interests, and styles made them a species hard to ignore.

"Ah, Reinhardt." A squeaky mouse-like voice broke through sounds of bargaining. A deep chuckle resonated from the captain's throat as he turned to face the owner of the voice. The simple motion caused the piston in Reinhardt's lower leg to whistle.

"Krimely, I should have known you'd be here." Reinhardt pushed his large, bulky frame through a throng of customers looking to get their hands on some goods. He stopped at the stall belonging to a meek young man: thin, wiry, and small in size with hunched shoulders and gray eyes. The stall owner's nose twitched, causing the few whiskers on his face to dance about.

"Hehe, what brings you here?" Krimely questioned, fiddling nervously with a rag. The poor soul never sat still, and he seemed to be in a constant state of anxiety. It made sense though, at least to the captain, and Reinhardt found himself taking a trip down memory lane.

He'd discovered the young Underminer in a sticky predicament years ago. Krimely's stall had been upturned by an unhappy bloke who held the scrawny boy by the collar with one hand and beat him to a pulp with the other. After rescuing the mousy boy, providing a few pointers on self-defense and better customer service, Krimely had taken a liking to the large captain.

"Just takin' a look. Been at sea for half a year's time. I figured my feet would like the feeling of land instead of wooden decks," Reinhardt chuckled. With a friendly smile he patted Krimely on the shoulder. "I tell you, those Sea Dragon folk are gettin' bolder every day."

"Well, with the help of those King guys they have a right to be confident." Krimely shook his head, his nose twitching nervously at the mere mention of the Sea Dragons.

"Perhaps, but overconfidence is not a wise trait, eh?" Reinhardt mused, turning his attention down the street. His weather-beaten gaze settled upon a pub down the way. "Perhaps you'd like a drink my friend?"

"I wouldn't refuse such an offer. Not from you captain." Krimely smiled with thin lips and bustled about to pack up his trinkets. Reinhardt waited patiently for his friend to clean up and took the time to observe those around him.

He spotted the winged form of a Sky Pirate. Seeing one up close was always interesting as they never touched the ground unless necessary. Reinhardt couldn't help but wonder what the blue feathered pirate needed. Perhaps swords? Medicine? Clothes?