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Marinar's allegiance to the Dreadlord was fickle at the best of times. There was no admiration in their alliance, but a mutual respect of the destructive power both shared. It was an alliance built upon generations of bloodshed and betrayal, subterfuge and manipulation, arrogance and loss. Until the day the Dreadlord opened the gates to all that dwelled upon the surface, Marinar was content with spending his days kindapping and fostering the few cubs left in the dungeons to become devout followers of his patron, the Old One Eye. Initially he was apprehensive when a new enchantment had suddenly blessed the intruders of the aquedacts with eternal life. However, it didn't take long for the tyrant to see the benefits of the new surplus of visitors.
Intruders were predominantly younger, perfect fodder to feed the Old One Eye's preferred taste in offerings. Furthermore, the intruders did not resist. When they lost a fight, they submitted to their torment, offered their essence as punishment, and almost seemed grateful for the opportunity to try again. Marinar was no longer under constant stress to find new followers, brainwashing spells, or to worry about fuel scarcities. Now, the Aquedacts were thriving in a perpetual cacophany of cub moans and screams, equal measures of agony and euphoria.
One particular cub got farther along the Aquedacts than any of his predecessors. A meek, wide-eyed boy, who's gentle demeanor masked a wicked strength that could easy topple those who let their guard down. Marinar had led armies that conquered the hels when the boy's great great grandparents grew their first pubes, so he was no stranger to the concept of weaponized affection. Still, the cub showed great aptitude, regardless of what approach he used to dive so deep within this dungeon, and earned the Mariners interest. Johaan still isn't sure yet how grateful he is to have been worthy of the gaze of Marinar.