[center] [color=2e3192][h2]East Docks, Velor Harbor: Sea Stalker[/h2][/color] [img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/b0/3b/b4/b03bb48486d63764870a923c94bc51c4.jpg[/img] [@Kalleth][@ManoftheNorth][@71452K][@Spriggs27][@InkIsDorian][@InkIsDorian][@Rekaigan][/center] [hr] [color=00a651]"Why..Y-you... You miscreant! If I ever see you again I'm gonna turn you into a bloody eunuch! Ya here?! A FUCKING EUNUCH!!"[/color] He shouted at the top of his lungs in pure rage as he threw a hatchet in Fiers direction. Fortunately, the axe head imbedded itself into the wood of the ship. Blowing an indignant little huff, the Tavernkeeper tossed to remaining letters upon the docks and stormed off back to the town proper. [hr] Captain Ironwave stood at attention at the helm of the ship waiting for the Virtuous company, a mercenary company sporting an impressive record of victories and rumored to be a powerful gang of professional cutthroats. Maybe three of the upper members to board his ship fit that description, the rest fell short by a wide margin. From the railings his voice boomed out louder than any bard, heavy enough to crush lesser men under the weight of his absolute authority. [color=6ecff6]"Enough chatter. We been paid to see you off and off you will go. Daylights wasting. Get yourselves aboard or be left behind." [/color] Not bothering to wait for a reply, Ironwave stuck two fingers in his mouth and blew a shrill series of whistles that set the alreasy hard at work crew into a frenzy of shouts as they finished loading supplies from the deck in a hustle. To those on deck he shouted down,[color=6ecff6] "Five minutes before we make for the lightless. Kiss home goodbye. Might be your last chance." [/color] From the side came his second with a salute. Preperations were done. [hr] [Center] [img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/df/61/fd/df61fd222ee7b1c5c591dda48395ec6f.jpg[/img] [color=0072bc][h1]Sea Stalker[/h1][/color][/center] To arrive at what the captain called the Lightless meant two weeks travel on a fast ship, aided by a magic caster adept at wind magic giving the sails full spees start to finish. The days at sea were not kind outside the empires waters. Upon three seperate occasions the [i]Sea Stalker[/i] had been sighted by vessels believed to be hosting pirates and brigands. Despite being a singular ship, none dared accost the vessel. It flew the colors of an exiles barge. None wished to interfere with a ship sailing to this forsaken hell. Sailors believed that to destroy a ship bound for the lightless was a deal with the gods that cursed their soul. The lightless places were promised these criminals and would get its due. None dared challenge the odds of such a fate befalling them. At last it came to view on the horizon, stretching across the skies for thousands of miles was a pitch black set of clouds so thick the sun could barely illuminate the lands below. From these abyss spawned clouds came the sporadic [i]boom[/i] of greenish-red thunderbolts striking the inland. [i]Sea Stalker[/i] was crewed by hardy sailors familiar with the threats so common to the sea: Pirates, Enemy fleets, Storms so powerful they could capsize a warship with impunity, and all the myriad sealife that fed on warm flesh. Every sailor but Captain ironwave stared at the horizon with fear. From his ceremonial place at the helm he barked orders to his crew, to ready themselves for the drop. It was late into the night when the betrayal saw its time. To a man, each and every member of the Virtuous Company had been drugged. Slipped into their food, their drink, anything. Some who chose not to supp with the crew were dealt with in a more traditional manner. Men wrapped in black cloth swept into the rooms and struck fast. By the time anyone was aware of what was happening, it was too late. From the helm he felt it happen. That buzz of excitement and guilt that accompanied such events as this. There was no personal grudge against the company from the crew and its captain, merely business as they had been instructed to do. Every soul aboard this ship to be dropped at the islands was to be done without stepping foot on that cursed ground. Exiles were living trash to be thrown overboard the moment they were within sight of the beaches. The Virtuous were no different now that they were exiled. Lined up on their knees, blades to their throat, every last member hired to kill a prince was bludgeoned across the head and thrown into the cold waters. Their personal effects were tossed in after them. If they washed up on the shore with what they came with it would be an act of mercy from the gods.. As the last of the exiles was kicked into the waters, Ironwave closed his eyes and bowed his head in prayer to the maidens of the deep. They were far closer than any other drop point before so odds were good each member of the virtuous would wake up on the beaches, but that was only the starting line. From the cliffs surrounding the beaches were many clans of exiled killers, hunters, and island locals eager to kill any that washed ashore. To claim what they had for their own. Ironwave had kicked them from the ship just past midnight when the scavengers were less observant, distracted by finding shelter and warmth from the beasts that made their way inland looking for prey. [color=6ecff6]"Gods watch over you souls. May you find your end honorably, like warriors."[/color] He said solemnly to the nights wind. Other sailors whispered similar prayers to the now forsaken. [color=6ecff6]"Turn us about, Mr.Juneprey. Home to the Empire. The council must be told."[/color] Their task done, [i]Sea Stalker[/i] took to friendlier waters. [hr] [center][img]http://miriadna.com/desctopwalls/images/max/Cold-cliffs.jpg[/img] [color=aba000][h1]The twisted Shoreline[/h1][/color][/center] From the depths washed the Virtuous company upon the beaches, their weapons had managed to stay sheathed but all of their personal effects were lost to the waves. Recovering them was unlikely. Scattered across the dark sands were piles of bleached white bones, rusted weapons littered the area. Battle had been done on this stretch of beach countless times, as it would for eternity. Without any sunlight it was difficult to tell how much time had passed. The beaches extended around the entirety of the island, rough 100 feet of sand stretching from the water to the sheer cliffs that blocked entry to the inland. To get further in would require scaling the rockface and braving combat with whatever locals that mighy have a dwelling atop them.. the alternative was a cave nearby. Like the beaches it had primitive altars decorated with skull and bone.