Smitty Cystongue twisted and turned and cried out in his sleep. His dreams were haunted by visions of something horrible lurking at the edges of reality, clawing at his sanity. It bore likeness to his old Captain Grog, but he knew it was something new. It called itself the dread pirate Captain Grog-Sothoth. Returned from the realm of the dark gods of chaos, it called to Smitty. He awoke feverish and sweating, his boils pulsing and irritated, with one last lingering image burned into his mind.
The next night, he had the same horrible dream, that his once great Cap’n had been transformed by the chaos realm into some gnarled horror. He saw the Cap’n at the edge of his vision, twisted and scuttling. He followed the fleeting glimpses deep into the night, stumbling in bare feet.
When he awoke, he was lying in a tidepool caked in mud. He pushed himself up on his hands and knees and choked up foetid seawater. When he was finally able to take in his surroundings, he found that he was in a coastal cave filled with gnawed bones and piles of corroded coins and valuables. As he scanned the mold spattered cave walls, his eyes settled upon a miserable creature huddled into a hole in the wall.
“What have they done to ye’ Cap’n?” Smitty murmured, half to himself. It said nothing in reply, but rose squirming from its hole, tentacles outstretched. It raised a cutlass in one arm, and pistols in its other three. A tentacle squirmed from underneath the its tattered greatcoat and, while Smitty stood transfixed, pressed itself into Smitty’s forehead. Suddenly, he could feel the creature’s will. It was no horror, it was the same noble Cap’n that he knew afore; the same Ca’n Grog that he would’ve followed to the realm’s edge! Smitty’s heart swelled and his soul was lifted. He had found his Cap’n and was ready to adventure once again!