---

The sea was black and cold, rip-curls tearing at the water's surface. The ocean wailed as waves churned and sloshed back and forth. The smell of sea spray was assaulting, and froth and brine was jettisoned every which way by the violence and rage of the sea. It was high tide, and the tumultuous ocean was unruly. Raindrops as big as quarters hammered the sea amidst large and booming claps of thunder. A single, wooden boat stood defenseless against the battering of the waves. The boat was small, with little ability to make headway, and thus the ocean tossed and slung the boat whatever way it pleased, batting it aside effortlessly with herculean waves. Drenched fishermen scrambled on the boat, desperately trying to stabilize and steady the boat through the storm. Knots were tied in anguish, sails shortened in desperation, and as a last ditch effort several crew men were heaving buckets of water off the ship. A captain barked orders at the head of the ship, but it seemed for naught. It looked as though the storm was going to take the small fishing boat with it. A culmination of the howling wind, the fulminating thunder, and the ferocity of the waves, all added up to a dire feeling of hopelessness.

Suddenly, the world shook, and the blackness of the sea was deeply perturbed by inordinately gargantuan waves. The fishermen swore the earth's crust threatened to tear from such a violent magnitude of what at first seemed like an earthquake. For the crewmen on the boat, it looked to them that the world was ending right then and there. Ironically, these poor fishermen were not very far off from the truth. The sea ripped apart to make way for something, and in an explosion of saline ocean and spraying brine, a hulking monolithic creature exploded from the depths of the sea. The creature was sinuous and worm-like in shape, tough scales layering it's body, and no visible eyes. Teeth jutted from it's mouth, with what little moonlight that could be seen through the tumultuous storm clouds overhead, glinting sharply off of it. The creature was immense and colossal, being at least 250 feet in length. It stretched it's gaping mouth hole wide, teeth and all, and let out a ear-piercing cry which could be heard for miles on end. The worm beast burrowed into the sea once more, it's mammoth tail flailing behind it, kicking up waves in it's plunge. The waves resulting from the beast's dive sent the poor fishing boat thrashing into the volatile surf, the men on the boat desperately trying anything to steady it.

Amidst the ocean spray and battering rain, the worm-like creature surfaced once more with ferocity, flying into the air, with the poor wooden boat snatched in between it's jagged teeth. The flimsy wood did not stand a chance to the brute force and excruciatingly sharp teeth of the behemoth, and the now unsubstantial construct of lumber snapped like a tooth pick in the jaws of the leviathan. Screams of crew men could be heard as they fell one by one into the throat of the monster. The worm happily snatched them up, and gulped them as if they were small spoonfuls of peas. With one more bloodcurdling cry, the creature raised it's front end almost as if it was stretching to the sky, before promptly diving once more into the black depths of the ocean.




Pyre is a fractal world of scattered archipelago and small chains of islands. It is populated solely by humans and human species. Pyre rests in a Feudal age with Medieval nobles and royalty lording over their respective islands in what are small city states, with no true great powerful nation having emerged, perhaps this being a direct effect of the difficulty of invasions in such a scattered archipelago. The interesting thing about Pyre, is that amidst the twister of islands, each one has it's own independent climate, ecosystem, and biome. Certain islands may be lush with leafy tropic canopy which stretch as far as one can see until they eventually bleed into the horizon in a churn of verdant greens and azure blue, whilst other Islands are frozen tundras littered with glaciers and icy fjords. Between the medley of islands lies the ever expansive ocean, which has been coined the Black Sea, due to it's unsettling dark tone.

However, everything is not lush green tropics and sandy beaches, at least not any more. Colossal creatures have emerged from the depths of the Black Sea, termed Goliaths due to their enormity in size. These are gargantuan creatures that their only correlation seems to be their size and their deadliness; in other words, these beasts can be all manner of different forms and shapes. Some have been seen as worm-like, others dragon-like, and even some having been cited as "land-shark like." Aside from their insatiable appetite for humans, what makes them all the more dangerous, is their ability to traverse both land and sea.


In regards to magic, wizardry, and witchcraft, it is a known luxury, which is channeled through the use of a mystic energy known as manna. Certain children are born more receptive and more in tune with the flow of manna in this plane of existence, and are naturally more adept at magic than others. In other words, some people quite simply have it, and others just don't. Obviously, their aptitude with manna must be honed and trained, in most cases by an elder or a village mage. Manna is very powerful, and by effect is dangerous to be handled by those who are inexperienced. Some bite off more than they can chew, and by effect have too much manna in their systems and results in something known as "Manna overload." In manna overload, one has channeled more manna than their psyche can handle, and the uncontrolled energy normally causes the victim to be "electrocuted" by the power of the pure and unadulterated energy, which can, and most of the time will, result in death.

Pandora sat atop a colossal pine, her legs dangling beneath her. The sun sat high above her, poised in the sky on it's azure, blue throne. It was perfect weather; not a cloud in the sky, yet at the same time it wasn't sweltering hot. She reached into her satchel pack, which sat slung over the tree as well, and pulled out her jerky pouch, which she had just purchased this morning. She gingerly pulled out a piece of jerky, before tying the pouch shut and placing it back in her pack. She pulled the cloth that covered her face upwards from her neck, exposing her mouth and neck. She began to nibble and chew on the jerky as she watched nature unfold below her.

On the ground, about 200 feet below where Pandora laxly sat, was a one-room building. Pandora theorized it was an old forest park ranger's outpost, or perhaps some kind of makeshift dormitory. Pandora looked towards the sun, it's rays bleeding into the horizon. A pack of Piranha lizards would rove through any minute now, and she had made sure she was high atop, in the canopy of the forest. Piranha lizards were nasty little things, although it was the sheer amount of them that made them dangerous. They came in swarms, comparable to locusts, and hundreds of aggressive lizards would storm through an area, eating any living thing they could get their snappy little jaws on. She would also have to be wary of the clanners to the south, as she had just caught sight of a patrol of them making their way towards her general direction. However, if she timed everything right, she would be able to avoid both the bandits and those nasty little biters.

Suddenly she heard the sound of scurrying and and little teeth gnashing carry up to her. She looked up at the sun, then back down to the sea of swarming lizards below her, a throng of little green reptiles surging between the trees. Pandora quickly put the jerky back in the pouch, hastily packing up her backpack. She made sure the backpack was securely strung to the branch of the tree -- she would be back for it later. She turned to the hills in the south, scanning the environment for the clanners she had spotted earlier. She zoomed in on what seemed to be a blob in the distance, revealing a convoy of Clan raiders. If she had to guess she had about ten minutes before they were passing through the area, but if everything went according to plan, she would be long gone by then.

Soon the Piranha lizard pack had passed through, save a few scalene stragglers. She was not worried however, as the viscous little reptiles were only dangerous in numbers; by themselves, they weren't very threatening (although getting bit by one would still hurt!). Pandora began her descent from the tall pine tree, dropping from branch to branch with consummate agility and ease until she was at the base of the tree. She stood in front of the doors of the old outpost, pausing for a brief moment before kneeling down in front of the doorknob of the entrance. She pulled out a two bobby pins from her back pocket, fiddling with the lock on the door. She heard a ker-chunk and then the door eased open. She pushed open the door and stepped inside, her hopes for loot high.

---

Later that day...

Pandora walked up to the center of Ambrosia, her backpack slung over her shoulders. She had founds some good first aid kits and materials in the outpost, and they would fetch a pretty penny. She had some other things left over from trips she had made earlier as well, and as a result she was looking to sell a good amount of her items. There was a large commotion in the area, and she knew it must have had to do with the Railroad project that the town was supposedly employing, but she so far had no interest in participating.

She made her first stop in the back alley of a weapons shop. She walked up to the door that led into the back of the shop, knocking deliberately three times fast, and then two times slow. She waited for what seemed a minute, and a burly man with balding hair greeted her at the door, looking at her quizzically.

"Err.. Can I help you...?" he began, looking her up and down, raising an eyebrow at her garb.

"I'm looking for Keenan," she said shortly and curtly, her voice coming out metallic from the voicechanger.

"Ah, yes, Keenan. I'll be right back," the man said, recognizing what Pandora was here for, and went back into his shop.

A much skinnier dark skinned man emerged from the door way; Keenan. "Ah, my friend, you are back again!" he greeted him, continuing, "I got a worried I wouldn't see you again -- after all, it has been over a month. What have you got for me today?"

"The usual," she said harshly, offering no more information, simply holding out a brown leather sack.

"That's all? You've been smuggling me crystals for over a year now, and you never try and spark anything with me. For christ's sake, I don't even know your name," he said, chuckling. He pulled out a slip of paper with his signature scribbled on it from his back pocket. "Here, you know the drill. Give it to the cashier next time you come in, it'll guarantee you the usual haul," he continued, taking the sack whilst simultaneously handing Pandora the scrap of paper, "So, since I've got you here, what is your name?"

"Somethings are better left unknown Keenan," she responded, before briskly turning her shoulder, and scampering down the alleyway and out of sight.

"Christ," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

---

Pandora had just finished up selling the last of her scavenged first aid kits at the markets, and the sun was begin to sink in the sky like a capsizing sailboat. She closed her backpack, it's contents much lighter from the day of selling, and slung it over her shoulder, ready to head back out into the wilderness to look for a place to stay for the night.

"Hold up there Pandora." A voice gruff, weathered and worn, came from the darkness of a alley. A man, of vaguely native american origin came limping towards her. Jerimiah Talbot, one of the finest hunters to ever live, gestured for her to stop. "Good thing I caught you before you headed out again."

She was stung by the mention of her own name. Very few, if any, knew her name, and she had grown accustomed to never being referenced to by name. She turned around slowly, looking him up and down. She recognized him, it would have been hard not to; despite her absence from civilization for a good portion of her life, she still recognized someone as historical and famous as Jermiah Talbot.

"Mr. Talbot," she said, unfazed by someone of his stature, her voice changer warping her voice, "How odd it is to see you. I couldn't imagine what someone like you would be interested in me for, now if you'll excuse me --"

"You've been drafted." He lifted his hands in a apologetic fashion. "Now. I know you don't go along to well with the rest of us folk. That is fine. We, rather, I have vouched for you to be in a fronteir group. They are all good, solid and reliable people. And you'll be out and away from the big masses. You'll be doing what you always been doing. Just with money and back up behind you."

Pandora had been hearing all about the draft for the past few days, and she had told herself she would have no part in it. Of course Talbot would have known about what she had been doing, she had gotten a little sloppy in recent months and had had some encounters with some hunters. She cursed herself for being so careless, and now the secret in her skills was out. Her mother's words rang in her head -- "People are not to be trusted Pandora" -- warning of the dangers and errs of going the way of the more beaten path. Despite Pandora's best attempts to weed it out, her mother's paranoia had become ingrained in her conscience. Pandora quickly scolded herself, telling herself that her mother was not here anymore, and she was free to do as she wished. She didn't need her mother telling her what to do, especially after how crazy she turned out to be.

"What would you have me be doing?" she said rather crudely.

"Helping the other scout out and mark the way for the new railroad." Talbot said, smiling slightly. He knew this was as much an admission of interest he'd ever get out of Pandora, and rolled with it.

Pandora's inner struggle and turmoil within her conscience made her pause for a second, but ultimately the more adoptive side of her won out. "This is the first and the last time I do something like this Mr. Talbot," she conceded begrudgingly.

"Duly noted. I don't mean to step on any toes. But you are the best of the best when it comes to tracking and avoiding unneccary risks. You'll have my word, that once this is over, you won't be bothered again."

"Good," she said unapologetically, "Where to, Mr. Talbot?"

"They are awaiting you over at the Silos. I trust you can find your way there?"

Pandora offered a simple, "Yes," and then she was off.

---

Pandora approached the hulking, red silos, which were deeply contrasted against the Prussian blue sky. She walked up the gravel path that led to it, her boots crunching on the dirt. She saw a group had already congregated, however, she kept her distance.