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Still in on this too(as long as others are that is :P ). Sorry for my lack of activity though.
Southern Cormyral
Several days had long passed since the unfortunate arrival of the Craitan Corsairs, the modest and nameless coastal town was now in ruin and lifeless, buildings torn down or charred, smoke still towering over the ruins. encircling the town were hundreds of tents set up hastily since the arrival, encircling the camp was a makeshift fence, any unused planks now acquisitioned by the corsairs combined with any spare lumber aboard the Craitan Vessels. All of the town's people had been herded into a small corner of the camp, small groups packed into wooden cells.

In the town center, Jarlan Urgan and his personal guard circled a pile of spare wood, now blazing with flames, feasting upon the town's stores of meat. "How much you think the whelps and wenches will fetch us?" A particularly burly Grogar and Jarlan's righthand, Gargin Zahc spoke.

"The usual." Jarlan replied as he gorged on leg of lamb. "Not enough for the riches we seek...we need something more....exotic." He paused a moment as he tore off the last bits of meat from the bone, tossing it aside to a moderately sized pile of chewed up bones. "Get used to the weather boys, we'll be here for quite a while. It'll all be worth it, enough slaves to keep the market's afloat for months, even years! The coins will be endless!" Cheers followed from his men. "We're going to assemble the warbands, it's about time we started to collect our bounty."

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Eastern Tarkima


A day a passed since their faithful encounter with the Yeti, Firgus, Olaf and their guard companion continuing their journey back to the Clan stronghold of Heimyal. The mood in the air was a peaceful one as they traversed though the serene wilderness of Tarkima, a rather ironic thing to say considering the people of the land, yet despite this, there was beauty to be found in the "warmer" seasons in Tarkima. The two aged men sat in the back of the carriage with the fresh kill, the lone guard responsible for directing the yak pulling the cart to Heimyal. The two friends causally converse, as they near the stronghold, about another day's worth of travel. "The more I think." Firgus said. "The more I feel farald is worthy man for my little Elina."

"See my friend!" Oalf exclaimed joyously. "I knew you would come around to it eventually." Firgus gave a hearty laugh. "Yes yes, the boy has still much to prove, but for the time being, he'll make a good husband for my little ice fairy." Ice fairy, Elina used to love being called that in her younger years, over time, it's became a title of shame of which her father regular enjoys humorously spouting much to her dismay.

"I just love for the safety and comfort of my bed." Firgus said.

"Don't we all?" Olaf replied. The two made one more round of heart laughter until a loud beastly roar was heard. "Oh by the gods..not again.." the guard muttered as he noticed another yeti bursting from a small cluster of trees, ready to strike at its prey. "Whoa!" he ordered the two yaks. The guard was quick to hop down and unsheathe his sword as he came charging at beast, swinging his sword to intimidate the Yeti. "Back beast! Back!"

Firgus and Olaf were soon to join him, but he objected. "No my lord! I'll hold off the beast! Go now!"

Firgus nodded and complied with his request, hopping over to the seat "Go!" he ordered the yaks as they fled from the scene. Both Olaf and firgus giving one last glimpse of the brave guard as the Yeti grabbed a hold on him an fled with its new prey.
Next post is coming up soonish I hope. If not, possibly the next day.
Got another post up! Rather on the small-side though.
Several days ago, Somewhere in Cormyral....
A pair of siblings, a boy and a girl, were dashing across the southern beaches of Cormyral, racing each other while their town prepares for the local festival, a time of great celebration and of a great feast. Not too far of a distance, both children took brief glimpses of their home town as the sun set, the lights blaring up as the town as the torches have been lit, smoke slowly rising, the irresistible aroma of cooked meat reaching down to the coast, the festival was nearing. Both the boy and the girl had come to a screeching halt as the sun set, wide smiles forming from the sheer excitement of it all. "Race you back home!" The boy challenged his sister.

"You're on!" She exclaimed. "Last one has to-..." She had stopped speaking midway through as the girl had noticed something off, beyond the boundaries of the beach. "What's that...?" She asked both herself and her brother. The young boy turned to investigate what his sister had saw, he stepped close to the water, squinting his eyes. Black sails was all he could see, as black as the night sky or the deepest and darkest of caves, this had sent shivers down his spin. The parents of the two siblings had often warned them of black sails far off shore, they barred grim omens of things to come. Black sails were often the banner of pirates, Tarkiman Corsairs of the Craitan Clan to be exact. The boy was quick to react, running towards his sister. "Run!" he shouted, and so they both ran, ran as fast as they could to warn the town of the raiders.

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Aboard one of the approaching Craitan ships was Jarlan Urgan, the right-hand man and top enforcer of Chieftain Gamor Tuiri. Jarlan was an unpleasant sight to behold, a Drimuc of imposing stature, his horns and fangs were chipped to no end, his skin was scarred and aged. Despite his age, nearing on seventy, old Jarlan was still among the Craitan's most fearsome warriors.

From a high point of the ship, Jarlan focused his gaze upon a pillar of smoke just a little before the sun had set, he smirked with a sense of satisfaction. "Land ho!" he screamed, catching the attention of nearly all the fleet. His present crewmen all turned their attention towards the captain. "Alright you bastards, prepare to disembark!" he ordered, his warriors scrambling as they directed the ship towards the coast, the other ships following behind. "We're going to be rich tonight!"
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