It was twilight on the North Sea. The Mortal Mist, a revered and widely feared pirate ship was lazily anchored in a shallow cavern, speckles of stars slowly fading away in the cascade above. The Captain of The Mortal Mist was sitting alone in his quarters frozen in an attempt to make a stroke on his map, slowly submitting to sleep. On his scarred chest he wore a shirt, rough with age with large, billowing sleeves like a ship's sail, dark trousers, a belt with his sword, and knee high leather boots. His tricorn hat on his chair with his coat beneath it. The Captain wasn't an outward eccentric, though his insides stirred in wild colors, visions of far off new lands and cultures, undiscovered species, and all sorts of secret magic, from a glance on the outside, he was as barebones plain as any of his crew.

The Captain was mere steps away from slumber when a loud CLANG! erupted on deck. Instantly, Captain Levesque jumped to his feet and stormed out of his quarters, his watery, cavernous eyes scanning the deck. A few of his crewmen, Williams, Lockewood, and Stirling, had their heads over the gunwhale on the starboard most side. Their mouths were gaping and their voices were raised and taut like rope. They hadn't even noticed their Captain emerge from his quarters. Levesque followed their gaze and found an obelisk-like rock protruding from the sea. On its jagged edges was a moonlit silhouette, ghostly and still. As soon as Levesque notices this, his stare narrowed and he shouted towards his men. "Well!" He called. The three men jumped, practically leaving behind their socks in their boots. "Was no one going to call man overboard?" "Captain!" They all sputtered at different times. Levesque grabbed a rope and began unbounding it as he approached them. "We would've sir! Only..." Williams mumbled. "Only what?" The Captain snapped. "Look!" Stirling pointed out towards the sea. The Captain could hardly believe what he saw.