Renato leaped down through the deck entrance and landed in the hold of the Pickle Barrel.
The first plank beneath his feet cracked sharply, sending splinters flying beneath his boots.
He steadied himself and glanced around. The place was a wreck, with snapped ropes, shattered barrels, and fallen beams scattered everywhere.
The pitch-black hold did nothing to hinder Renato's senses. As his Dragonkind Senses spread outward, the entire space took shape in his mind.
The Pickle Barrel's cargo hold was broad and open, with few partitions. Thick planks reinforced the walls on either side, and dark waterproof caulking sealed the seams. There was no sign of any leaks.
The stench of corpses was not particularly strong inside. Camphor, alcohol, and various chemical reagents neutralized most of the rot, leaving only a faint medicinal odor drifting through the air.
In practical terms, it was even far more pleasant here than on deck. Not even the sea breeze could disperse the reek of decay clinging to those Zombie Pirate Sailors.
Neatly arranged wooden cabinets lined both sides of the hold. They rose from the floor almost to the ceiling, each compartment secured with iron nails and bands. Numbers marked the doors, and some also bore labels.
Many dead bodies that had yet to be awakened lay quietly inside, their hands folded over their chests and thin linen sheets covering them.
The ship's gentle rocking did not shift the corpses at all. Iron bands held their bodies firmly inside the compartments, preventing them from tipping over or sliding out as the ship sailed across the rolling sea.
There were also dissection tables, tool cabinets, and other equipment. The dissection tables were made of metal, their surfaces covered with lead sheeting. Drainage channels ran along the edges, with dark brown traces lingering at the