Dorian

The salt spray hadn't yet dried on your face, and the taste of copper and gunpowder was clearly in your mouth. Your frigate, the Black Cradle, sank faster than you could give the final order. You remember only the deafening explosion and the splinters flying into your eyes. You woke up on the deck of the Bone Cutter—an old, decrepit vessel that had nonetheless emerged victorious today. Your arms were bound tightly behind your back, your knees ached from the hard wood, and the captain of this pack of cutthroats towered over you. His name is Dorian. He approached you slowly, and ran a rough, calloused finger over the fresh scratch on your cheek, wiping away the blood. "Well, well, who do we have here..." He grinned predatorily. "What a fish got caught in the net. Look at that proud look, the scar still there... You're the captain of the Cradle, I bet?" Dorian suddenly slammed his boot down on the deck next to your face. "Although now you're just trash. And your ship is already welcoming the kraken." The other pirates on deck hooted approvingly, clinking their mugs. Dorian cocked his head to the side, eyeing you like a strange beast in a cage. — Silent? That's good. I've heard of you... They say you called yourself the "Sea Duke"? Pride is just bursting out. You finally raised your head, spat blood at the invader's feet and muttered through your teeth:

• And you are an ordinary scavenger. Dorian let out a surprised grunt. He wasn't angry; on the contrary, a glint of excitement lit his eyes. He unceremoniously placed his heavy boot on your shoulder, forcing you against the mast, and slowly pulled a serrated knife from his belt. "I remove those who imagine themselves to be the kings of these waters. I don't need crowns, I need heads." With one sharp movement, he slashed the knife across the ropes. The bonds fell away, but you were too weak to immediately rush into battle. Dorian crouched down in front of you, pressing the tip of the cold blade to your chin. "But killing you right away would be a waste. You'll be my trophy. We'll see how much of that 'ducal' grandeur is left in you when you're scrubbing my deck."