Let me tell ye the tale o’ the Lord o’ the Sea. Ye may have heard the ‘legends’ that say he was a man o’ tall stature, coming ta twelve feet high, an’ his flesh was immune ta any weapon o’ steel an’ iron. But that be the false rumors- the real Lord Rutan was an extraordinary man blessed by the goddess o’ storms.
Erudian descent he was- coming ta only five feet an’ ten inches and had aged like a child from Eruda. From the moment he was born, he lived on the sea and The Cruel Whore was his home. He was a pirate, through and through, but unlike any common sea dog, he was truly free. Lord Rutan served no dragon and he could sail the five seas wit’out fear o’ retribution.
No one knows how he came ta be a human representative o’ the goddess, but ah’ve seen his power wit’ me own eyes. He truly is the Lord o’ the Sea- the sea critters protect him from all danger and the waves obey his command. With jus’ his sword, he can direct the sea to flow one way or the other- and he can cause tidal waves or destroy them.
Hell, ah’ve even seen him split the sea once, created a short passage betwixt Dael and the Isle o’ Moaghos he did!
There was ‘nother rumor ‘bout him that might jus’ be true- they say he shares the powers o’ Elati, but he’s no god. It’s said that he had power o’er lightnin’, by jus’ aimin’ the tip o’ his sword ta the sky and pointin’ his finger at his enemies, he can direct a bolt right at them wit’out being affected.
Any real pirate dreamed ta be part o’ his crew- no other capt’n can offer the freedom he could. Through him, men were pardoned an’ protected by the goddess an’ we could pillage ta our heart’s content wit’out having ta share our riches wit’ the dragons.
But Lord Rutan also had the wisdom o’ a thousand wise men- he didn’t let us go wild. We only stole what we wanted- no more than wot we could carry, an’ we couldn’t massacre the locals. This was so the king o’ the region would have no reason ta send out a massive army.
It wasn’t out o’ fear that he asked this o’ us, but consideration fer our fellow pirates. Our brothers were still under the oppression o’ the sea dragons and had ta steal. If we took all the gold an’ left the army fer them ta deal wit’, then there would be less o’ us sailin’ the seas today. He said our role was ta be nothin’ more than a nuisance ta the landlubbers, not a threat.
He was always a fair man ta anyone he’d meet- he didn’t hold grudges or hate anyone, but he’d show no mercy ta anyone who threatened a pirate or a seafarer. Aye, we’d steal from seafarers often, but that didn’t mean we let them fall. We’re all family an’ Lord Rutan knew that very well- we pirates jus’ happened ta like pickin’ on our ‘little brothers’ is all.
An’ how do ah know all this, ye ask? If ye cannot tell already, ah be speakin’ from experience. Been on The Cruel Whore since ah was eleven an’ ah was a decade an’ a half his junior. Lord Rutan was somethin’ like a pappy ta me an’ ah served him so well that ah became his first officer at fifteen.
He was a man among men and larger than life- and like all the great ones, he was inevitably brought down by some wench. Ah’ll admit he was fairly handsome- at least the lassies thought so, an’ they stopped at nothin’ ta get his attention.
But Lord Rutan’s only love was fer the goddess an’ the sea- he wouldn’t spare a lass a single glance, save fer one, apparently. One day he returned wit’ a babe swaddled in sea silk an’ linen and claimed that it was his. We all thought it wasn’t possible an’ that the mother was jus’ lyin’ ta get at his riches. But the wee lass bore a great resemblance ta him that there was no question in anyone’s mind who she belonged ta.
We tried tellin’ him ta throw the child o’erboard- if the mother didn’t want it, then he shouldn’t be expected ta take care o’ it. Ah remembered him seriously contemplatin’ that, but then he looked down at the babe an’ declared ta us:
“This be a piece o’ me flesh an’ blood- she has every right ta become a pirate as ye lot. From now on, this lass is part o’ this crew. If there be any problems, then the tip o’ me sword would be glad ta persuade ye otherwise!”
An’ so a wee lass managed ta join our ranks. Lord Rutan coveted her more than his own treasures, an’ ah was shoved ta second in importance (not that ah’m speaking out o’ jealousy, mind ye). In the next ten years, the lass grew both in size an’ in our hearts. She was the spittin’ image o’ her pappy- the only thing she seemed ta inherit from her mum was the fact that she was female.
She was a spirited brat an’ a willin’ student- we all taught her something an’ felt our own measure o’ pride when she’d mimic us. It was obvious from the way we all spoiled her that we knew she’d one day take her pappy’s place as capt’n- an’ we didn’t mind that, so long as it was a spawn o’ the Lord o’ the Sea. Her lack o’ manliness didn’t matter ta us.
But alas, this tale must come ta an end an’ ah must explain how Lord Rutan met his demise. That girl was both a blessin’ an’ a curse- the Fates gave her a terrible readin’ that he had ta follow, or else he’d forfeit his life ta let her live. It was one o’ the other- an’ Lord Rutan volunteered himself.
It was with a heavy heart that we executed him so that his daughter could live on. Upon his death, the sky split open an’ a raging storm appeared, as if Elati herself was expressin’ her sorrow. The lass we strove ta save was grief stricken and probably scared- she did not understand what was going on an’ jumped off the ship. She disappeared under the violent waves an’ we ne’er seen her again.
Until recently we thought she had drowned, but the goddess believes her ta be alive an’ that gave us hope. We have ta find her- she’s all that’s left o’ Lord Rutan an’ his legacy. We feel bad fer all we’ve done ta our capt’n an’ we want ta make things right by bringing her ta the goddess.
Why does the goddess want her ye ask? Even we don’t know, but surely she does not seek ta harm her. Elati favored Lord Rutan fer a reason, so his daughter must be valuable ta her as well. If ah were ta guess, the lass has been chosen ta take on his role- we intend ta keep her wit’ us this time, as part o’ the crew…
“Yer lyin’, ye dickless son o’ a landlubber! Tell the truth fer once! The capt’n didn’t ‘choose’ ta die- ye murdered him fer yer own gain!”
Wot!? Who dares called me that!? Ah’ll show ye who’s ‘dickless’!