Chapter 2: Terrors of the Void

This One grabs some rope and cast a flying spell on himself. With that he flyes closer to the debree. In there is anything of intest or any survivors, he will used the rope to drag them back to the ship.

All this talk of an old flame doesn't faze Ziggy in the slightest. No spark, Topolah said. Spark just happens to be Ziggy's specialty! What kind of a name is Grimzod anyway?!

Topolah examines the scene from afar and then shakes her head, "No, I don't see Grimzod's flagship," she says with relief, "But it does look like he was tangling with the Xaryxian Empire."

This One takes flight, soaring into the debris field to take a look. He spots several human corpses as well as a few astral elves before feeling something slip by him in the darkness, but he doesn't see anything.

A tiny ball of light appears over the bow of the Second Wind, quickly flies around the mast, and settles a few feet above the main deck, changing colors as it hovers in place. In a soft voice it says, "Miss Topolah, is that you?"

You all recognize the creature as a will-o'-wisp.

Topolah blinks against the sudden light and cocks her head to the side, "Lume? Long time, no see! Where's Grimzod?" she asks, her face breaking into a smile. She turns to the party, "This is Lume, a member of Grimzod's crew."

At least Grimzod did not suffer a grim fate, although some of his ships must have, judging be the debris. "Hello! We're here to find Grimzod, lead the way."

The will-o'-wisp begins humming happily, its light pulsing in time with the jaunty sailor's tune as it begins leading the way. Not long after, you are caught in a cosmic storm. Lightning flashes through dense blue and purple clouds, illuminating the silhouette of a galleon with torn, flapping sails. Ghastly mariners stand on deck and cling to the rigging, staring at you with unblinking eyes.

The galleon's captain steps into view: a pallid, white-haired man with a barred metal mask covering the lower half of his face. His left hand detaches at the wrist, skitters up his arm to his shoulder, and waves at you with its fingers.

Krux sneers at this sight and keeps one hand on his holstered pistol. "Vampirates," he hisses.

The undead captain places his boot on the rail along the deck of his creaky galleon and leans over the bow. His disembodied hand perches on his shoulder, and lightning from the cosmic storm flashes behind him.

Gargenhale's tone of voice is inviting, but his dead-black eyes glint with malice. "It's dangerous out here. That menace from Xaryxis, Commander Vael, keeps sending ships to our system, but we do our part to thin the astral elves' ranks. You're obviously not with them. Care to identify yourselves?"

His eyes suddenly land on Topolah and he slumps like a wounded animal before puffing out his chest and raising an eyebrow, "Do my lifeless eyes deceive me? Topolah, my darling, what a surprise! If you've come to drive a stake through my heart, you'll have to return it first."

Topolah smiles at the vampirate, "It's good to see you, Grimzod," she says with an air of sweetness that you haven't previously seen from her.

Our captain has a parrot
This captain has a hand
Should anyone who sails the astral have a critter on their shoulder?

As the introductions are made, Imti steps forward. "We're here for similar reasons," she says. "The Xaryxians have made it clear they've no love for the balance in the stars, preferring to hoard the light for themselves while letting all others suffer. We're hoping you had some insights that might help us."

"Are you making fun of Jzu?" Quaxiver quipped back at This One, for the hadozee's familiar was a flying monkey, perched on his head.

"Commander Vael eh? Now we have a name to the leader of the attacking fleet." Quaxiver's mood pivoted immediately when speaking of the astral elves. "What other efforts are underway to stop these elves? Surely enough worlds have taken up arms to fight back!"

Grimzod looks at the rest of you as if just now remembering that you're here, "Oh yes. Standard procedure to have a shoulder-mounted pet when you're a sailor," he says with a sagely nod, but there's a hint of a smirk on his lips that shows he's being playful.

"So... you're looking for help against the Xaryxian Empire?" he asks, "Why don't we go somewhere and talk?"

His eyes move to Krux, "Permission to come aboard?"

Krux narrows his eyes at the undead pirate and growls, but Topolah places a calming hand on his arm and he relents, giving a grudging nod.

Grimzod takes a couple of running steps and leaps over to the Second Wind gracefully before taking Topolah's hand and giving it a gentlemanly kiss. She rolls her eyes and turns to lead the way downstairs.

Imti watches the pair descend below the deck. She leans over to Ziggy and whispers, "You gonna let him out-flair you like that?"

The druid then steps over to Krux and walks with him to the meeting. "So, what kind of animal is that on your arm?"

Ziggy has already gotten over Topolah; he is now smitten with Grimzod. Which, on second thought, isn't such a bad name. The astral elf follows the vampirate—a concept nowhere near as silly as space clowns—and that tease, Topolah, below decks.

Quaxiver looked at the vampirate crew staring back at them from their ghost ship, still hankering after his dream of having his own vessel.

You manage to all pack yourselves into a room downstairs and away from the rest of the crew. Grimzod cocks his head at Imti's question before catching on, "This thing?" he asks, patting the hand on his shoulder, "This is just my hand. Detachable and independently mobile. Quite a handy little thing, if I'm being honest."

"Say what you wanna say," Krux says, sounding on the verge of an explosion, "I don't much like my ship being stunk up by your kind."

"So, my dear Topolah says you need some help with the Empire, yes?" he asks, but doesn't stop to let you answer, "I will do so. But I have terms you'll have to agree to."

"First, you will join my fleet, though you won't be required to do any pirating against non-Xaryxians. Second, you will call me Admiral Gargenhale. Third, you will abide by the Pirate Code."

He then lays out the pirate code for you (Below). "If you do so, I will deliver to you a weapon that may be able to bring the Empire to their knees!" he finishes with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Your ship Krux, not ours. Your call to make. On our part we have to decide whether we want to continue to serve here as crew." The protocol had to be adhered to, otherwise the laws of sail and hierarchy of command were meaningless.

If only the nautiloid was spacefaring worthy, they could've commandeered that.

I don't know what "secular" means. Other than that, I have no issue with your code.
Articles 1 and 2 do not relate to me. I agree with 3, and 4... well I will try to comply with your guidelines.
But as Quaxiver says, I can only answer as a singular sentient being. I can support and encourage Commodore Krux to add his ship to the fleet, but it is not my call.

This One thought he was finished speaking, but then he had an extra question. Should we also acquire a shoulder critter, or is that a captain thing?

"Hm," says Imti, considering the price. "Sorry, I'll pass. I'm not much for piracy and I'm used to flying on my own. Not that I don't doubt the advantages of working with a crew, 'cause we had some good times just in the journey here, but... I don't know. I'd rather fly free than be under the detached hand of someone else. It's one thing if I wanted to join a crew. I guess I just don't like being locked into something like this, is all."

"I think you can do better than that, One." Quaxiver had another idea cooking in his aspirational brain as he listened to Imti's objection. "Which ship did you see out there that's least damaged? We still have the spelljamming helm we salvaged from the nautiloid. We can transfer that over and have ourselves a ship. ANd make our own decisions whether to follow Grimzod or not."

That is a splendid idea!
Someone get in that fishsuit, and I will fly us over to inspect some of the ships. They properly don't have an atmosphere, so we have to land the ship at somepoint, unless you nave some clever magics

If there's one thing Ziggy hates above all else, it's his artistic freedom being curtailed. The allure of seducing the vampirate would-be-admiral quickly fades in the face of this. He has half a mind to sing some hymns right now, but decides to apply his energy elsewhere instead.

"I'll go with This One. Quaxiver, baby, would you help me into the fish suit?"

It was an interesting contraption to be sure, as Quaxiver fiddled with getting Ziggy into the suit. "I can help too, once I get a breathable bubble up." The hadozee conjured up some air, and was ready to rely on his glide ability to float from one ship to the next, once he established which way was up or down according to their plane of gravity.