With a crack of his whip, a creature, more ogre than man, bellows an order “lower your oars, maggots!” and the drums begin to beat. With the next whip crack, the creature roars “Come about starboard!” With the maneuver completed the creature cracks his whip and roars one last order “Ramming speed! Let’s see what you dogs are made of!” as the tempo of the drum beat rises, the ship lurches forward, moving faster and faster with each passing second. Suddenly from above deck you hear a gruff voice yell “BRACE FOR IMPACT!”… The last thing you remember hearing are the sounds of splintering wood and clashing steal. What you don’t hear are the screams of the dying, for the fathomless depths release no man’s screams.