The ship tossed and turned as the storms started to calm. The Half Orc's snores reverberated through the cabin. Pym turned in his hammock and opened his eyes. He felt Chip perched on the edge of the hammock. His weight the only thing telling Pym he was there.
"You killed many for your father today." The Imp crooned quietly in Abyssal.
Pym sighed, thinking back on the pure joy he felt in the carnage of the earlier day. He worried about his dark side. Sometimes it became overwhelming. The warmth of the fire as it flooded over him, wrapping him in a blanket of protection. It was intoxicating.
"You will soon embrace your destiny master. You will be the abyssal champion you were made to be." The Imp appeared as he patted Pym's forehead. Like a father calming a child.
Pym rolled over looked out a small port hole near the ceiling. Some moonlight filtered in. He remembered the old woman. She would stare up at the moon sometimes while he slept. If he listened he could still hear that song she hummed. As he focused on her tune, the memories of his maniacal laughing faded to a distant chuckle as he fell back to sleep.