Sunrays beamed down onto the various faces in Lomedor. The town was a non-stop bustling of flee-markets and whatnot. Children ran and played, causing endless havoc to elders. The town’s officials strolled through, conversing in high, valiant voices. Women all around blushed and fanned themselves as strong men showed off their warrior-like muscles. The town was of pure happiness and joy. Spirits of the people were higher than ever before, due to the fact of no signs of attacks from pirates, wandering hordes, or wild barbarians. No, the town was at a peaceful state of mind. A happy state of mind.

Xelphias trudged through the town with a look of uneasiness. He wasn’t the happiest of all people, nor was he a depressed man. But he smelled trouble, and trouble was something he smelled often. All day, people were celebrating one whole year of peace. A whole year! An impossible statistic, Xelphias knew this. Lomedor used to be the prime target for pirates and barbarians, and to go a whole year without a single attack? The elf could tell something was luring in the back shadows surrounding the towns. Something or someone was devising a plan to attack, he knew this.

“A whole year o’ peace, eh?” Xelphias overheard the mayor talking with his superior advisor. “Well oi’ll be. Seems like the Gods and Goddesses are watching over us now, aren’t they?” The elf turned to the mayor, eyeing his specific facial features. He wasn’t a tall man, rather consisting of an overweight look to him. His cheeks were often puffed out red, and his nose shined with a blinding light. Overall, he was a typical Arda mayor. “Sir, do you know why no one has attacked the city of Lomedor?” Xelphias addressed the mayor. The short, chubby man turned and eyed the elf suspiciously.

“Umm, no, why?” Was his answer.

“I am unsure of an exact reason, but my senses are telling me dark forces are stirring somewhere. Somewhere out in the ocean or within the surrounding forests, evil is lurking. I know it.”

The mayor paused, and looked at his Superior Advisor, who was listening intently. “Hahaharrahaharr!” The mayor exploded into booming laughter. What was his problem? “You, someone like you,” He said, insulting the elf, “Think that someone out there is planning to attack Lomedor? Hahaharr! That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard of! Hahahararrharr!” The townspeople were starting to laugh as well. Everyone pointed and chuckled uproariously, only to be leaving Xelphias blushing slightly. “You fools! I have seen evil face-to-face! What have you seen? Maybe a fight between two children? You are all fools! I know evil what I see it. I can smell it in the air! Fools!” Xelphias shrugged off the endless laughter, and went to the nearest inn to get some sleep. He needed rest, for humiliation was something Xelphias didn’t take lightly.

***

“Sir, sir, wake up please!” A little boy said in Xelphias’s ear, while shaking his arm as well. “Please sir, wake up. The town is waiting.” The elf gave a yawn, and sat on the bed upright. He rubbed his eyes, and stared at the boy questioningly. “The town is waiting? What for?” The boy replied, “I think you better come look.”

Xelphias hopped out of the straw-strewn bed, pulled on his tunic, and walked towards the inn door. He reached for the knob, and twisted it knowingly, “What could the town possibly want wi-” Xelphias was lost for words. Outside his room, in the small Port Adune, stood hundreds of Lomedor faces, all staring at him with glinting eyes. The elf looked around, and saw the mayor approaching him. Xelphias stared at him with evil eyes. “What is it?” Xelphias questioned him demandingly. “What!”

The mayor looked down, and did something the elf thought he would never do. He bowed down and kissed Xelphias’s feet. “I have wronged you.” The elf looked down . “What?” He whispered to himself. He then looked up, and all words were lost, for dozens of ships, with black sails, were heading towards Port Adune. Xelphias knew now why the town was all gathered around him. He knew now why the mayor was begging for forgiveness. He knew now why the boy had wakened him. In a deep, gruff voice, there was only one word Xelphias said…

“PIRATES!”

The weather today was bright and sunny, and bright and sunny usually came with warmth this time of year. But despite everybody else enjoying the sunshine and the warm air, Winter hated it. She sat back in the shade on a pile of barrels and crates stacked beneath an open shed near the port in an effort to keep cool. It was natural for somebody to sit in the shade during this weather so nobody blamed Winter for it one bit, however if anybody had taken the care to inspect closer, they'd see that she was sweating twice as much as anybody else, even within the shade the air was still too warm for Winter, since half of her being came from an ice elemental she made a note to at least try and stay out of warm weather like this.

However today she'd woken up and almost collapsed as soon as she took a step outside, without wanting to appear suspicious she'd walked all the way over to the port and was now sat here in the shade, not wanting to risk walking over to the water and splashing some over her face. She looked up Weakley at the people all about her who were actually enjoying the weather, they all seemed happy and content and far too calm for Winter's taste. Always when there was a calm happy scene it was eventually interrupted by something not so happy. As Winter watched she saw a different person in the crowd who seemed to almost share her thoughts, at least his expression did. He walked up to some important looking people and spoke to them, addressing his opinions.

Winter barely heard a word of it but as soon as he'd finished just about everybody started laughing at him as though he were stupid, and from here Winter didn't see him as the sort of person to be laughed at. He yelled for a bit and then walked away, presumably fuming. Winter watched him go with bleary eyes, her vision suddenly began to focus in and then out and she slowly passed out where she was sitting. It looked more like she'd fallen asleep.

Winter sat up and rubbed her eyes, the port had vanished, so had the people and all the buildings, and she was sitting in a wasteland awash with blue fire. She stood up and looked around.
"Not this again,"
She reached for her katana but as she grabbed it but vanished into a wisp of air. She looked round for something, or someone, anything to get her out of this.
"Oh for heaven's sake, wake up!"

Winter's eyes snapped open and she sat there panting a little after the dream had finished, she leaned forward and laid her head in her hands. After a while she realized that a crowd had gathered nearby and they were all standing around the figure from before. Were they trying to make another laughing stock of him? No, the figure at the front was the official he's spoken to before, and he was groveling. Winter stared at him for a moment and then looked towards the ocean, he eyes widened and she jumped down from the barrels, completely forgetting about her weakness to the heat, and grabbed the katana mounted behind her left shoulder, glad to feel that it was still there. She looked up at the ships coming towards the port and she instantly knew what was coming. She said it at almost exactly the same time as the elf in the crowd.
"Pirates," he eyes narrowed and she drew her katana completely.

Cecelia looked through her telescope and saw towns people rambling and gathering together to burden some guy. She looked at her crew and slide the telescope into a fold and put it in her back pocket. She looked at the ships behind her and disagreed with this attack, but what was she to do? Lose her rank as Captain. It was her ship she's do everything to protect it. Shouldn't She? The black sails were being whipped in the wind and she starred at the little shore. Once again people scurried in fright as we came closer.

Cecelia looked at her crew and called some of them down below the ship for a brief meting. She stomped down the stairs and took her hat off.

"Now." She said turning a chair around a plopping in it. She folded her arms together and laid them on the back of the chair which was in front of her. "You all know what we must do right?" She said. Her crew cheered and her first mate looked a little weary.

"How do we know where . . . you know what is?" He asked.
"Don't worry Allen, I grew up here. The mayor hides it in a chest outside the woods."
"What if it isn't there?" He added
"It should be. Don't worry. We'll worry about it if it comes to that." She said.
"Captain." One of the skinny crew members began. "How will we know if you found it. Once you've got it we will have to sail away quickly."
"I'll shoot twice listen carefully for it."

Cecelia turned around and stomped back up the wooden stairs. Pirates had already landed on the shores. She grabbed a row boat and several strong men and she headed towards the shore.

Far away from the shore of Lomedor, in the vast ocean which surrounded it, a man of sorts could be found, swimming at a very high speed in straight line, his swimming speed was amazing and he made it look so easy. It came natural for him, as natural as a human would walk on dry land. This certain creature was far more different than any human despite that he somewhat looked like one, he had jet black skin like the one of a drow, but was far from being a dark elf also. He belonged to a race less known to people, he was a darfellan, a race nearly extinct because of their nemesis, a clan of aquatic lizard-men who liked to commit genocides. He had a hulking, muscular build with very powerful arms, broad back and a wide neck, his eyes were of a vivid white color and were perfectly adapted to seeing underwater, and they didn’t hurt while submerged.

The ocean was the only place where he could feel at home, it reminded him of the days when he used to live with his brethren, among the sea stacks of forbidding coastlines. He was looked upon as someone of great importance into the society for the sheer fact that he was born completely black, and his skin was not broken by any white markings like the one of the other darfellans. He was to become their leader once he would have matured enough and learned everything that he should know before taking that position. But that day never came, his village got attacked by the sahuagin, few escaped in one piece, too few, only the younger and more powerful ones who were able to stand their ground against the attack. The elders were killed, the leaders also, and all of the survivors chose to leave on their on, one of them was Vor’angkoo himself, there was no point in waiting there, their enemies would have attacked again.

But so much for memories, Vor shook his head, pushing his memories into the depths of his mind, he continued to swim at the same speed, till he reached a pretty large rock which emerged from very depths of the ocean. His hands pressed against the rock while he pushed himself to sit atop of it. His massive legs were pushed closed to his chest, his arms wrapped around them and his chin rested on his knees. His gaze was into the distance, and all he could see was just the blue of the ocean and the blue of the sky. He didn’t worry about anything for the moment, not even if the katana located on his back survived the trip through the water and wild waves, he was sure it did like always, so far it served him well. But it was time perhaps to improve it in some way, to make a piece of art and even imbue it with some powers, but in order to do that he needed a lot of money and probably a good blacksmith first and a wizard second.

But something began to concern him, the ships approaching the port of the large city of Lomedor, at first he took them as an usual convoy, but when they were close enough to see their black sails he instantly knew that they were pirates and no pirates approached ports like those with peaceful intentions. He needed to help the people there, and that like very fast. Quickly he was standing and in a matter of a few seconds he jumped into the water, heading fast towards the port, he was able to outmatch the speed of the ships since they were slow when it came to docking.

Vor’angkoo emerged at the surface and climbed up into the city using a nearby ladder, he was soaking wet, but he showed no signs of fatigue from the long swim he had to endure. He quickly moved towards the mob of people that had gathered there, but was hesitant in approaching them, he stopped on his way and shook his head. He was not a very social person when it came to those of the human race, he knew how ignorant they were and didn’t really like to be insulted all the time. He turned around and decided to take care of this on himself, for as much as he could. Shortly he began stepping towards the place where he thought the first ship will dock.

The salty rush of the sea air greeted Xoco’s face as he stood on the bridge of the large pirate vessel. The black sails that loomed overhead provided some shade from the late-afternoon sunlight. Evening was fast-approaching, and the heat of the day was subsiding. The splash of the waves across the mighty hulls of the ships as they pounded through the sea could be heard, along with the overhead screeches of seagulls. The men sharpened cutlasses and fitted themselves out with whatever rag-tag armor they could find. A general feeling of bloodlust and anticipation ran amongst the crew.

The fleet was comprised of twenty ships. Ten of the ships were stolen war vessels, and were outfitted with exotic artillery that the men called “cannons”. Others were smaller vessels, three schooners, five brigantines, and two scouting ships. Of these, various ballistae were mounted on the decks, two per ship for the brigantines and one on the bow for the schooners. The crew of the ships totaled just shy of three hundred men. The plan was not, of course, to take the entire city, but simply a very small portion, namely the ports. A little pillaging, take the loot and get out before too many Lomedor guardsmen showed up.

Xoco’s footsteps clanked on the wooden floorboards slightly as he turned and descended a pair of narrow stairs that lead from the bridge to the main deck of the warship. He leapt off the final step, landing catlike, and turning abruptly into the captain’s quarters. A single iron door lead into the captain’s private quarters, and Xoco pushed it aside with great ease and stepped firmly into the large room. The captain startled slightly as he entered, gulping in Xoco’s presence. He seemed very nervous around the wraith, and probably rightfully so.

“Yes, w-what is it, sir?” he asked. The captain voice was a fair sight short of the firm and intimidating roar he used around the crew. Xoco shuffled over to one of the various shelves and removed a small golden sphere from it. The plunder was a rare relic, quite an interesting artifact. Xoco turned the ball of precious metal in his hand, focusing on the strange glyphs and carvings that ran across the surface.

“We draw very close to the port. Unfortunately, you’re not one for secrecy, and the townspeople have begun to make quite a stir. I would suggest we turn the fleet to starboard, and have the ships begin firing on the town from a safe distance to weaken the on-shore resistance before we go ashore,” said Xoco, not even bothering to meet the captain’s eye. The stout man thought about this for a moment and then nodded.

He placed one last dagger into his belt before heading out onto the deck of the ship. Xoco nodded, smiling, and placed the golden ball back into it’s place on the shelf. He followed the captain out of the quarters with a straight and narrow face, keeping his hands locked behind his back. The captain turned and called to the bridge, where a large horn was situated.

“Mr. Thompson, signal the fleet to turn to starboard, place the guns toward the harbor,” he called. A lanky man clothed with rags and missing several teeth nodded. He scurried over to the horn with a look of mad glee, and with all the grace of a drunken bear at the town faire. He placed his less-than-tooth-filled mouth across a crude mouthpiece, and sent out several loud blasts the resounded across the harbor and were most certainly heard by every ship in the fleet. Slowly, but surely, the ships moved towards starboard and into a different formation.

After maneuvering the ships, both through the efforts of rowers and many complicated positionings of the sails, the warships formed a crescent shape around the expanse of the harbor. Each of them had several guns on each side, and the ones on the opposite side had been re-located to the deck, where they could be fired across the guardrails. The heavy stench of sweat mixed with black powder and iron filled the air, an acrid aroma of war.

Heavy splashes and the rattling of chains was heard as the ships dropped anchor to steady themselves for the onslaught. It was going to be a long haul before they were ready to invade the port on foot. Each ship was aligned, and ready. The men waited, anticipation hanging like dead energy in the air. For a moment, everything was still.

Then, a single, short horn blast broke the silence, and three seconds thereafter, a volley of cannons were discharged, each sending a deadly iron ball hurtling towards the town. The deadly projectiles tore into houses and businesses, several more hit the streets and ricocheted, flattening several men at once. Like clockwork, the men set to re-loading the cannons, shoving black powder and ammunition into the barrels. New fuses were set, and the cannons rolled slowly back into firing position.

A single small vessel rowed away from the main formation, with only a handful of men and one strong-looking lady inside. Deserters, perhaps? Or were they trying to get a head start on the looting? Xoco supposed it did not truley matter. If they deserted, then they were missing out on some excellent plunder. If they were trying to get a jump ahead of the main formation, then their efforts would be met with cannon and cutlass, and many other pieces of cold steel.

Xoco stood on the bridge of one ship, and smiled.

How far had the barbarian falled to end up sleeping in a small dank basement? Once a proud warrior, Conach was reduced to breaking a lock and sneaking into the basement of some rich merchant in order to ensure he didn't have to face the elements. It was relitivley warm in the basement, Conach found some old sheets to use as blankets and had wrapped himself up like a caterpillar in a cocoon. But the peace was not to last.

He was in the middle of a dream before he heard the noise, his barbarian senses always on the alert. Waking up, Conach heard several footsteps coming down the stairs. Someone was coming to the basement, and they would surely find him... and if they did. Well... Conach didn't want a price on his head, that's for sure.

"Quick, into the basement children... the milita will sort this out..."

Conach rose up and immediatley ran to a shadowy corner where he crouched and hoped no-one would see him. Conach heard the door open and several people coming in. Chancing a look, the barbarian saw that it was a man, his wife and two small children. They all looked terrifed and one of the children, a young girl, looked up at her father and said:

"Daddy, are the pirates going to hurt us?"

PIRATES! Oh that was just great. Pirates had interrupted his sleep and now they were coming to invade the city. Not that Conach actually cared at this point about the city. But he did care that his sleep had been casually cut short.

It was then that Conach decided to make himself known, and rose up from his crouching position. Everyone in the room stared at the massive 6 foot barbarian who had came into their basement. One of the children whispered...
"It's a pirate daddy..."

"Calm down ye little wee 'uns, I'm not a pirate. I'm a barbarian. And those blasted pirates have woken me up, so if you excuse me... I'm going to sort this problem out and go back to sleep."

The family, aghast that a barbarian had been sleeping underneath them, could only stare as the massive hulk of muscle exited the basement via the stairs and braved the winds. Conach looked around and sure enough, there were plenty of ships in the horizon. Blasted pirates... but at least it meant a decent fight.

And Conach loved a good fight.