“You know…” Emir chuckled. “When she said you could walk in the sun, I didn’t believe it. All the tales I have heard mention how your kind turns to ash in direct sunlight. Yet here you stand, as any other normal person.” He said, giving Aldrin a sly grin as they walked, more so, escorted through the dock warehouses. It was Emir, Aldrin, Jared, and Buramog-Kurdan along with four Scarab Sons marching two paces in front and back of them, keeping the group in the center.

  Aldrin eyed Emir’s teasing grin. He knew Emir was fishing for information that Moira lacked to give. “Perks of being the First Vampire. Who knows, maybe one day I won’t be alone in the sun.” He fired back with a grin of his own.

  Emir held the shiver back as he realized the implications of having full-fledged Vampires that once fought in the Progenitor Wars walk in the sunlight. A problem or blessing in disguise that would have every worldly power acting cautiously in fear of the ire of the Vampires. He had known for some time, even before the information from Moira, that one day the moon would overtake the sun and those that followed would be granted powers beyond their comprehension. In the back of Emir’s mind, he wanted to be on that side one day if it held any modicum of truth, and luckily, with the news of Aldrin being who he was, that information was slowly turning from myth to truth.

  “I suppose this is where we part ways then? For the time being, at least?” Aldrin asked, breaking Emir from his train of thought.

  Emir looked around, noting the edge of the warehouses where the town of Ebira began. Along the strip, the makeshift shops started, the taverns, the inns, and whatever else stores called the strip home had been in erstwhile business. Pirates, Adventurers, and a few merchants, who helped Ebira become the trading port it was known for, made their way from shop to shop.

  “I suppose it is.” Emir glanced at the burgeoning, crowded street. “When you’re all done with what you have to do. Come back, and we will discuss how to tackle The Veil. I hope by then your friends will have the information we need,” he gave them each a smirk, then took out a flask from his Inventory, raising it in their direction, then took a long gulp.

  Aldrin nodded, then looked at Jared and Buramog-Kurdan, giving them a head jerk to follow. Emir reached out, holding ?Aldrin’s shoulder. “Before you go, a word to the wise. Be careful with Kron. His reputation precedes him,” Emir said, giving Aldrin’s shoulder a squeeze before pushing him forward. Aldrin looked over his shoulder, seeing a torn yet determined looking Emir watching them leave.

  With ?the meeting with Kron moving to the forefront of his mind, he caught up to Jared and Buramog as they were busy chatting about the sights. Well, more like Jared was talking Buramog’s ear off.

  Drifting behind them, Aldrin’s mind wandered back to the moment of Moira and her brother, Andrew, reuniting. He decided that they would have time to catch up under the watchful eye of the Scarab Sons before they made any major decision regarding her forced betrayal. While Aldrin knew it was no fault of her own, he also knew he couldn’t afford to be seen as soft given that Emir had specifically tested him. So for the time being they were to remain in captivity until Aldrin had a chance to talk with his friends about it. In the meantime, the group of three, led mostly by Jared, walked back to the tavern with the mermaid on it, where he first encountered the captain.

  After a little bit of walking, they arrived at the tavern, which was aptly named, The Winking Mermaid. Aldrin read the name and couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “If Pierre were here…” he said ?between fits of laughter.

  Jared turned to face him, his face red with embarrassment. “It's not my fault! Mermaids are my weakness! I have always wanted to see one since I got here!” he bashfully said.

  “Oh, man.. I am so telling when we get back,” Aldrin chuckled, then looked to Buramog, who looked lost about the entire ordeal. “Come on, guys,” Aldrin said, clapping Jared and Buramog on the back as he strode forward. He opened the door to the tavern and was met with raucous, slurred singing that only sailors, or in this case, pirates, were capable of.

  Inside, the three found the tavern packed to the brim, with everyone swept up in the joyful atmosphere. Drinks flowed from the bar to someone’s hand in a constant motion, and ?those drinks flowed into someone else’s hand like a well-oiled machine. Soon enough, the three held their own drinks, and the crowd swallowed them up.

  The pirates, as Aldrin noticed, were all made up of Orcs, tanned Elves that Aldrin guessed ?were Wood Elves, and Humans. However, each and every one held no animosity towards each other. He figured it was because of the drinks until he looked above the bar and saw a banner depicting a tentacle with a knife skewered through it.

  “Cheers to the Amphilios! The fastest ship in the seas of Horstague!” One pirate shouted. Soon after everyone else raised their mugs and toasted with the same phrase. Aldrin chose to blend in, and he cheered as well, hoping not to draw attention to himself. That was short-lived though, when the doors to the tavern opened and all eyes turned to the newcomer as Aldrin felt an aura brush up against his tightly coiled one.

  The aura wasn’t malicious or even curious, but it demanded all attention to be on the one letting it loose. The celebration that was ongoing, paused. Steadily, the newcomer waltzed into the tavern, and the crowd parted subconsciously, allowing a clear walk to the bar and where Aldrin found himself standing in front of.

  “Shit…” Aldrin muttered to himself as his eyes darted around before landing on the newcomer. He didn’t have much experience with actual pirates, but he at least knew that the one with the wide-brimmed black hat with an exotic teal-colored feather in it usually meant that it was probably the captain who walked in. Even more so when he took in the appearance.

  While the man held similarities to Orcs with braided black hair, a sharp, ridged nose, small tusks jutting from his lower lip, and a brutish brow that shadowed his gray eyes, that’s where it ended. Aldrin had heard about some Races intermingling and their offspring being shunned by both of their parent Races. He himself had never encountered one until now. The captain’s Elven parentage made itself known by the slightly pointed ears, softened yet high cheekbones, a slender but very toned build, with dexterous long fingers.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The captain’s gray eyes scanned the crowd with an arrogance reminiscent of High Elves, another similarity in itself until his gaze landed on Aldrin, who stood his ground amid the scrutiny. Aldrin wasn’t one to back down. After all, there was a saying, “If you can survive the trials of the Orcs, then you can survive anything.” Or at least that’s what was beaten into his head by his Orc blood brother, Khotal-Dergu.

  “What’s this? A new recruit?” The man asked with a widening grin, swaggering up to Aldrin with the grace of a hunting cat but with the confidence of a bear, showing the dichotomy of his parentage.

  Aldrin nearly balked at the confidence of the man who was unknowingly walking up to a true predator. However, he let the man have his fun. After all, there was no point in souring relations with someone who could help him and his friends get to the Forbidden Continent. “I just wandered in, that's all, friend,” Aldrin replied, slapping on a smile of his own.

  The captain chuckled low, coming to a stop before Aldrin, who had to slightly look up. He was nearly a foot taller than Aldrin, another mark of his Orcish heritage. “What brought you into my tavern, per se?” the Captain asked, his grin turning into a smile of his own that revealed a few gold tooth replacements.

  Aldrin shrugged and downed his drink, once again silently lamenting to himself that he couldn’t taste normal food and drinks anymore. “A friend of mine said I was supposed to meet a captain. That you?”

  The captain snickered, moving his hand to a cutlass that was sheathed and hidden among the long leather coat he wore. “Depends on the friend,” he replied with a glint in his eye.

  Aldrin noticed the man's tension but made no move to escalate it further. He was about to reply when Jared and Buramog pushed their way to the front. “KRON!” Jared excitedly said.

  The captain, Kron, turned around to see Jared and Buramog walking towards him. All the tension released when he noticed who. “Lads! Good to see you both!” Kron walked up to them, embracing them, then draping his arms over their shoulders. “Come, drinks are on me!” he said, pushing them towards the bar where Aldrin still stood. “Is he with you?” Kron asked when they neared Aldrin again.

  “Yeah! That’s who I was telling you about who wanted to head to the Forbidden Continent,” Jared said.

  Kron looked between Jared and Aldrin briefly. “Well, that is best settled over drinks then.” He maneuvered to the bar and tapped on it. “Four drinks for us, but keep it flowing for the rest of the crew!” he said louder on the last part, which told the crew that everything was good. The crew roared happily with some downing their drinks.

  The barkeep poured four drinks in mugs and slid them over to Kron, who took them with ease. He handed one to Jared, Buramog, and lastly to Aldrin. “Amphilious! Keep the party going!”

  The crew cheered once more before mingling back together, singing sea shanties. “Follow me,” Kron said to the other three, leading them through the crowd to a secluded corner. The four squeezed into the booth. Jared and Kron on one side, with Aldrin and Buramog sitting on the other. “So… The Forbidden Continent, huh…? I’m assuming you’re Adventurers going for the thrill?” Kron asked, leaning forward with a grin.

  “No. We have business there,” Aldrin said flatly.

  Kron sat back, running his finger along the lip of his mug before taking a swig. “How many?” he asked, looking down into the contents of his cup.

  Jared looked at Aldrin, waiting for him to answer. “How big is your fleet?” Aldrin countered.

  “Big enough…” Kron trailed off.

  Aldrin sighed. “I need it big enough to carry a tribe of Orcs along with their mounts,” he stated.

  Kron tried to suppress the shock running through his body when he whipped his head up, looking at Aldrin. He scoffed at that, which soon turned into boisterous laughter. “You can’t be serious…” Kron chuckled until he stopped altogether. “Wait, you are…? What could possibly be on the Forbidden Continent that you would need an entire tribe of Orcs? Let alone how did you even manage to convince them?”

  “Long story… really long story, but let’s just say it's in your best interest to help me in the long run. I will make it worth your while,” Aldrin said, then he remembered what he could offer that would make any captain buckle. “I will even offer you an Elven Skyship.”

  That made Kron laugh harder than he ever had, forming tears in the corners of his eyes. “There is no way some nobody comes into my tavern… asks for a large fleet, leads a tribe of Orcs, and then offers up a highly sought after Elven Skyship like its nothing. Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?” he said, and instantly his aura blanketed the entire tavern like a knife’s edge.

  “Kron…” Jared warned, but it was too late when he looked at Aldrin. He had spent enough time around the man to know when his vampiric side was threatening to spill onto the surface. “Aldrin.” Jared pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.

  Like the start of a new waterfall, Jared felt Aldrin’s control over his aura leak. “Buramog, we need to leave.” Jared said, feeling the aura easily push against Kron’s.

  Aldrin rose and Jared tried to press himself back into the booth as far as could. His eyes flicked between the challenging Kron and the ever-growing, frustrated Aldrin. “Let me make this perfectly clear…” Aldrin quietly said, trying and failing to keep a leash on the intrusive thoughts of wanting to lunge across the table to gorge himself on the man. “I’ve been through a lot in the past few nights. So much I haven’t been able to process because I have been thrown into situation after situation. Granted, some of it was self-inflicted. But still… a lot,” Aldrin’s aura tightened around the table like a frigid cold seeping into the bones of a weary traveler.

  Kron did his best not to flinch, but before he knew it. Aldrin’s once human green eyes became slitted along with pronounced canines that very well could be called fangs. Fangs of… then it all pieced together in Kron’s mind as it came to a screeching halt. The once arrogant captain reigned in his aura before the monster wearing the guise of a man. Aldrin’s aura soon replaced Kron’s within the tavern, and the crew froze as all eyes turned to their table.

  “Judging from your reaction, you know exactly what I am, which tells me you’ve had an encounter with my kind before. Correct?” Aldrin nearly growled as claws dark as the bottom of the sea grew from his fingertips.

  Kron sharply nodded but did not dare take his eyes off Aldrin, regardless of how he looked to his crew. Hell, he knew the crew themselves felt the aura and would know what lurked among them. They had enough experience to know that a single, fully trained, Vampire could take them out with ease. He almost instinctively rubbed the scar that cut across his chest, which throbbed from the memory of fighting against one and nearly dying.

  Aldrin closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. The frigid yet suffocating aura receded along with his changed features. He opened his eyes, which turned back to normal, then put on his best charming smile. “Sorry. I guess we should start over. I’m Aldrin and I am in need of your services,” he said, sitting back down. All traces of what lay beneath, gone and replaced.

  Kron’s breath twitched before the twang of an empowered crossbow let loose its payload. The bolt, enhanced by a Skill, embedded itself into the side of Aldrin’s head, showering Buramog-Kurdan with Aldrin’s brain matter.

  Seeing that, Jared’s face paled. “What have you done…” he whispered in shock.